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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
| There was no way that I was going to get away with my shenanigans from the previous adventure. So, when Crash said his boss wanted to see me, I was ready. As he was rousing himself for a full day at the office after a full night in the woods, I had time to shower, get dressed and brew coffee. My attire consisted of a simple set of slacks, a cotton buttoned up shirt and a tie. It was the same clothing I'd bought for that disastrous job that I had for less than two weeks. I noticed this over the second cup of coffee as Crash was filling a thermos with what was left of the pot. In a way, I'd expected things to turn out in a similar manner. I'd had fun as a temporary deputy for Crash's little department, but I suppose all good things must come crashing down sooner or later. Crash for his part seemed chipper. He teased me a bit here and there about getting mauled by the bear. I smiled and teased him back, but I took it for exactly what it was: an ass chewing. I had a good idea why I was going to get my ass chewed. After all, it hadn't even been a week since I'd blown up two cars, started a house fire, and killed several well known and least liked criminals as my status as a temporary deputy. In most other fields of law enforcement, I'd have been arrested for results like that. Some places on Earth I'd have been executed. Maybe I'd have been promoted in Russia for that, but who really knows? There's an artform to getting a proper ass chewing, one that you only learn threw time honored experience. Since my ass still had metaphorical teeth marks from some of my shenanigans in the army, and I still say I didn't know a HMMWV would get that much air time at only 45 miles an hour, I have a lot of experience. To survive a good chewing, you got to keep in mind your goal, and to not take everything personal or literal. My goal was to preserve the pack, protect everyone from the threat that the late Milton presented. Something, I felt I'd accomplished.Crash had a scar on his shoulder, but he was doing okay. Zack, Sean, and Kris had a few mental scars and more than a couple bruises, but otherwise, they were recovering nicely. Not only that, I'd killed a member of society who was threatening to murder Crash, a member of their own department, and was using a gang like a paramilitary outfit. Milton had eyes on poisoning half our state with his meth. If you asked me, I think I did a good job. But, instead of getting thanked for that, I was looking forward to a screaming/growling session. And Crash, I think he was enjoying watching someone else get their butt chewed instead of him for a change. "Actually, there'll be more growling than screaming if you've done it right," Crash said, his grin growing wider on his face. I must had given him a look, cause he started snickering after. The top was down and we were enjoying the last warmth of the year before it starts to get colder around here. It was doing nothing for my well combed hair, but I think that was the point. I went into the office, trying to smooth out my hair as best as I could, and stood in front of the desk of Crash's boss. I had saved everyone. I had stopped a threat. In my eyes, I did the right thing. I kept that firmly in mind when I saw the large man in front of me stand up, draw a deep breath, and began his tirade. The first thing to keep in mind is if you'd accomplished the good and righteous mission you set out to accomplish. I certainly had. The secong thing is never, and I mean ever, look smug about what you did. Of course, I wanted to. I wanted to smile at him, scream back "But the vampire's dead, isn't he? His whole gang?! Your not up to your neck in meth addicted assassins?! You're fucking welcome!" I didn't do or say any of that. I looked in his face, tried to look slightly apologetic, and nodded in the appropriate places. But, I think he could smell it on me that I wasn't sorry and not even afraid at that moment. Maybe that's what made the ass chewing go on for so long. Or maybe he's just a long winded and angry guy. Or perhaps he uses his little rants like some people utilize exercise. I don't know. The office was a corner office on the second floor of some ignorable glass structure that you'd seen a million times in a million different places on the planet. I swear they must sell them in the back of Ikea next to the furniture and past the meatballs or something. He had a fantastic office I think partly because no one wanted to try and take it from him. Around his office was mementos from his long career in alternate policing. There was one photograph of him in his human form standing with a wife and child. I didn't ask about his family. Not because I wasn't curious, I was. But because I figured if I did ask he might perceive the question as some sort of threat. You never threaten a were anything either on purpose or on accident. Ever. Especially one a werewolf is afraid of. During the forty five minute screaming/growling session, hair sprouted twice. Though he fought it back down, his finger wavered, and twitched as if it was going to grow a claw. I looked him in the eye and waited, absorbing the ass chewing but not really giving it much thought. Truth was, I was starting to feel a little upset. After all, didn't I do something good for the community? Didn't I help everyone out by removing this threat? That meth gang had literally attempted to murder four people, myself included. There wasn't a whole lot of care about humanity left in them. And then there's the vampire, who had glamoured how many people? The very thugs that the cartel had sent to kill him he turned into his personal body guards. He cut me and drank some of my damn blood. My shoulder is still bleeding, and probably should have been stitched up. It still burns like a son of a bitch when I'm dumping peroxide on it at night. Why am I being punished like some imputent stepchild? "Next time, you try anything that reckless, you inform me first! You're not allowed to fart in the damn wind without my approval!" He screamed this in my face, pounding my chest with his fingertip. His words brought me back to the present, and stunned me a little. I arched an eyebrow at him, trying to play off my shock. "Next time? There's going to be a next time?" He growled and ran a hand through his hair a moment, looking away as he did. "You're damn right there's going to be a next time! Look, you're reckless, sometimes downright suicidal. You have a complete disregard for procedure..." I gave him a small shrug and said "I don't know your procedures." He paused. "Yeah, well, perhaps you should." He sat back into his chair, then leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. He laced his fingers behind his head, as if he was deep into thought. "You're the craziest human I've ever met, you know that? Most humans run screaming from this. I've known military veterans who've told me that they'd rather just pretend they never saw anything and go on their entire lives pretending this weirdness doesn't exist. You on the other hand, you keep shoving your muzzle where we don't want, forcing your way into our cases in order to help solve them. Hell," he smiled, "I've sat here screaming at you for over forty minutes and you just look bored." He wasn't starting to make a whole lot of sense. "I'm completely lost here. What's going on?" Grabbing a thick book that was obvious a government regulation of some kind, he tossed it at me. It landed on the desk in front of me. I stared down at this thing. It was blue, with a large paw print of a werewolf, and a human hand print in the paw. "You won't stop disrupting our cases, despite repeated warnings from your alpha, and I can tell from your look, you won't stop with warnings from me. Look, I served. I understand where your heart and your head is." He pushed the manual closer to me. I can't give you the title, cause you're not allowed to read it, but it was a list of laws and regulations that anyone in Crash's position was supposed to follow. That I was supposed to follow. "Read that, cover to cover. That's your new bible. You better be able to quote chapter and verse from that in the next few days." My mouth was dry. I swallowed hard. "I...uh..." "You're only working with Crash when he needs you and invites you into the case. This won't be an every day, or even every week deal. But from now on, you're not interfering in investigations, you're working them in an official capacity. Do you understand?" My mind went blank for a moment. "A job?! I'm getting a job?!" I was numb. I had believed I was getting arrested. Everything was turning out strange. Did I want this sort of job? Could I handle this sort of job? He smiled as if he could read my mind. "Sport, in our profession you must respond with calm and professionalism to aggression. Otherwise people get hurt or killed. I've given you my worst, you've seen the worst our kind can give, and despite you breaking several laws, you accomplished the job. But from now on, ignorance will not be leeway." He stood up, snarling, he did sprout fur. A low growl that really was threatening formed in his throat as he grabbed my collar and pulled me close to stare in his shifting, snarling face. "Next time, though, you pull a stunt like that, you really will see what the inside of my digestive tract is like. You understand?" With a hard swallow, I nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll have this whole book memorized." "Good." He smiled as he released me, then said, "Oh, and Jason?" "Yes sir?" His grin turned into a threatening one. "No one is to read that besides you and Crash. If any one else, even in your pack, reads that manual, you and they are in a lot of trouble." I tucked the manual under my arm and gave him a firm nod. "Yes sir." Before I left the room, I borrowed a white binder to keep the manual in. After all, if no one is supposed to read it, then perhaps they shouldn't see the title. Crash waved me over from where his desk was. Unlike his boss, our boss now, Crash was in a cubicle sharing a desk with two others in his division. Apparently that's the first thing to know, they're divisions not departments. They don't work for the regular police but along side them. The entire thing is strange. "Here, ya go," he told me, and slid the keyboard in front of me. It was a form of some kind on their intranet, something to get my vitals and family information. Typical first day on boarding procedures. "Holy shit, this is really happening," I muttered to myself as I sat there typing in information. I was working with Crash. I looked over at him. "I just don't know what to say." "Say you'll study that manual hard until you can literally quote it," he smiled. "I'll help you when I can." Everything was going to be different. For one thing half the things I'd been regularly doing had been technically illegal or at least frowned upon. I don't mean just with the last thing with Milton, I mean the entire time. Crash was supposed to warn me off or kill me. And despite his repeated warnings, I kept going deeper into this. I guess there's no backing out now, not that I'd want to. Life can be funny. This might be the only job on the planet that is chaotic and dangerous enough for me to feel at home in. Maybe someone or something up there honestly has a plan for my life. I certainly would appreciate it if they'd let me in on it. But, I suppose so wouldn't anyone. I'll just keep rolling with the punches and doing my best. I guess that's all I really can do. |
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