Negotiations With Teeth

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne hates this part of the act. He's pulled just about every con in the game at some time or another, some of them enough times to do them blind without a moment's warning, but this one? It never gets easier, even with the amount of trust involved.

Art items, money, contraband luxuries of all sorts, even drugs and weapons? Sure. Humans? That's one thing he can't stomach.

Next to him, Mira is just as calm as he is, probably calmer because she knows the lock on her silver collar has a quick-release that will let her get it off in half a second.

She's the quickest shifter he knows, maybe because she was turned so young. She's still too damn young... But that's what makes this work so well. The fact that she can do this without losing her shit. After all she's been through she can do the job, control her wolf, and still be rational, reliable, able to have a life outside the perversion and submission that defined her teen years? It's kind of amazing.

She can hold her own, both physically and emotionally, and he can control her if things go bad. Combined with his middle-aged, refined demeanor? They make a good team, and the pack has a lot of faith in them for taking down yet another slave dealer.

He still hates it. But he smiles anyway, genial, professional, and harmless in spite of the huge boxer's build filling out his tailored suit, copper-penny hair and beard trimmed close and neat and not showing even a hint of gray in spite of his forty-five years. A middle-aged businessman, not even a bit out of place in an upscale hotel where a little money buys a lot of discretion.

And the slender young brunette with him? Well, everyone has their indulgences, and all it takes is the right price.

Comments

[tinkermoose]

There's nothing about this Josh doesn't hate, though the fact he feels incredibly out of place in his tailored suit and polished shoes isn't even close to the top of the list given he's here to try and buy a sentient creature, human in all the ways that matter, purportedly as a sex slave. The whole idea makes him sick to his stomach, and he steels himself in determination as he studies the other buyer as intently as the seller and the... merchandise. It almost makes it worse to realize that he wouldn't give any of these men a second look on the street. Or, well, he'd definitely give the big redhead a second look--probably a third, too--but not because he thought he was the kind of man to sell a kid to some fat middle-aged businessman.

He focuses on appearing casual, comfortable surrounded by luxury and excess and used to having the kind of money needed to pick up a high priced 'toy' on a whim. But all the preparation and determination in the world doesn't change the fact that it's like one of those nightmares where you're naked in school, and he can't believe that everyone isn't looking at him, seeing just how much he doesn't belong here. He makes himself smile back at the redhead, easy and confident and, he hopes, with a slight predatory edge. Something in keeping with the kind of guy who'd be looking to buy the pretty little brunette he has on a collar.

"I'm prepared to pay five percent over the asking price, can we just get this over with?" he asks, trying to sound bored and absolutely convinced that no one would ever consider denying him what he wants, but he's not sure how well he's pulling it off.

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne had expected a private sale, but it...wasn't that unusual for bidding wars to break out. It just complicated things way the hell more than he really wanted to deal with when he was "selling" with a target in mind.

This particular buyer had a stable. Not just a casual dabbler who wanted something pretty to take home, but, as far as Dwayne's sources could provide, at least three or four purchases established on his record. Wolves that needed to be found and freed. Sending in a plant was the best way to get that information...

But he couldn't do that if some kid with too much money and too much faith in his own balls bought Mira out from under the buyer. Or worse, spooked him into backing out of the deal. And from the way the fat man was huffing, frowning, and narrowing his eyes at the new competition? That wasn't out of the realm of the possibility.

Right. Smooth this over.

"She's docile, but still not a pet for a first-timer, kid," Dwayne says smoothly. He feels like kind of an ass: the guy is cute, and sort of clueless. Maybe just doing it because daddy says he should, a birthday present he doesn't really want? Dwayne isn't sure that his heart is in it, and he can smell the reluctance and anxiety coming off him, hear his heart beating way faster than it should be for a simple deal like this.

"This wasn't meant to be an open negotiation, is our deal still on or not?" the original buyer interrupts, looking both irritated and nervous. Of course he is: even if the kid is just a entitled brat of a party-crasher, he could drive the price up in an impromptu bidding war.

Dwayne smiles, putting on his full charm. Pacifying, even though his stomach tightens up. Mira demurely raises her eyes, even though she gives no other sign of being alert, and he can tell that she doesn't like this, either. Dwayne raises a hand. "We don't have to be rude, we are civilized, after all." He shoots a sidelong glance at Mira, clearly indicating, well...some of them are civilized, anyway. He looks at Josh again.

"Downtown, there's a place called the Velvet Room. Ask for Paulina, and tell her that you're looking for the Executive treatment. Trust me, kid. It's a much better deal than adopting a new playmate you don't know how to handle." He gives Josh a tolerant smile, one that he only has to look up a couple of inches to manage.

[tinkermoose]

Josh tenses further at the big redhead's brushoff. His backers had been sure that a five percent boost to the asking price would result in an immediate sale, it wasn't supposed to get this complicated. He shoves his hands into his pockets to hide the way his palms are sweating and has to focus to keep from shifting restlessly in place. He has to project calm confidence, not nerves, and he's glad as hell he's not prone to blushing at mention of sex when the asshole mentions the escort service.

He has to resist the urge to smile reassuringly at the tiny, collared girl when she lifts her eyes, because that's not in character for the spoiled douchebag he's supposed to be right now, and he turns his attention back to her... owner again. At least he doesn't have to reach for the requisite outrage, because his blood's positively boiling at the casual way they're talking about selling her.

"I don't need training wheels," he snaps. "And I don't want the Executive treatment." He looks to the girl again, his demeanor completely at odds with his scent as he looks her over dismissively. "I want her." He pauses for a moment, considering, then adds, "Ten percent over the asking price." It'll be a scramble to come up with the extra, but he's not letting her go with the disgusting sleazebag fidgeting anxiously next to him.

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne raises his hands defensively, indicating no offense meant. Big kid. Young but not too young. He hopes like hell he's done growing, because goddamn, he's already done a lot of it. Dwayne would be worried if not for his wolvish edge, and...hell, no, he'd be a little worried anyway. He's used to being the biggest man in the room and it's a little off-putting to be outclassed by that much. The fact that he came here alone expecting his wallet to be his shield, though? Either the kid knows how to handle himself...or he's in way over his head.

"Lots of points for balls, kid. That'll come in handy," Dwayne says mildly, flicking his glance toward the buyer. Trying to project I've got this because the guy's bodyguards are getting restless and the flush of red annoyance creeping up under his shirt collar is not a good sign. "This is a private deal, though. Throwing money at a problem gets you the prize sometimes, but not every time. Still gotta follow the rules of business." The words taste sour in his mouth, the fact that he's buying and selling a twenty-year-old girl the same way he would a 17th century French antique end table, but if he flinches, he breaks the whole deal and very possibly gets them all killed. He can smell silver somewhere, and he knows damn well that this shithead knows that sometimes, a 'piece of merchandise' will suicide-rush rather than go quietly into the hands of another buyer. Somewhere, someone's got a silver knife or a clip of silver-core rounds, and it's not just Dwayne, because his are wax-sealed.

He's tired of this, but the end result will be worth it. He keeps telling himself that. More wolves to come home safe into the hands of a pack that will protect them, find them safe places, and one more broker taken permanently out of the game.

If they can pull this off. Mira glances at Josh, head still bowed so that it's a shrouded gaze, but Dwayne knows she's not faking her ire. Luckily, it's easy to pass off as a simple matter of not liking either potential new owner, and she simply shifts from foot to foot restlessly, eyes flicking between all the parties involved.

"This isn't the 'discrete' you promised me," the buyer snaps with a glare. He looks over Josh, clearly searching for signs of wire. Camera. Anything indicating a double-cross. Forward guard for an interception? Fuck. Dwayne hopes not. Feds wouldn't be this clumsy...neither would most competitors. And at least some of the others he knows of would have simply shot them all in the head and taken Mira by now. Now Dwayne is uneasy, too, and this is looking worse and worse. He's going to have to make a call soon- try to salvage, or bail. "I have other things to do today besides 'Baby's First Meet', so if you aren't going to get rid of him, I will."

[tinkermoose]

Josh has to work hard to suppress the urge to fidget. This isn't going at all the way his contacts and backers had insisted it would, and the longer it draws out the more chance that something will blow up in his face. Something that just might be the fat sleazeball and his restless bodyguards... which also hadn't been part of the plan. He'd been told to expect a solo buyer, solo seller and the... christ, the merchandise. Not two goons who are obviously armed and, from the looks of them, itching for a shot at busting his kneecaps. Not that he'd give them very good odds of succeeding, but the only way this ends well for his side is if it ends with him peacefully walking away with the girl, and that's not going to happen if things degenerate into violence.

He's not sure what the hell to do at this point, though, because Big Red doesn't seem to have any interest in budging, even for a significant boost to his profits, but there's no way in hell he's letting the girl go now that he's seen her. "I thought one of the first rules of business was to maximize your profits." He doesn't quite manage a sneer as he gives his supposed competition what's meant to be a dismissive look. He can see the guy checking him out, and has a pretty good idea why... and the only reason he's not wired is because he'd been expecting to be swept for bugs when he got there. He's been wishing like hell he had a wire for the last ten minutes, though. Wishing Ryan and Ethan or someone with a better potential read of the situation could feed him information or lines... or that he could at least warn them there's a damn good chance he'll be coming out hot sooner rather than later, because things are possibly going to start going south fast.

He tries to look casual about shifting both closer to the girl, and to put Sleazebag between himself and his bodyguards. And given he's damn well trained, even if this isn't anything he'd ever expected to be doing, he mostly succeeds. The same with the assessing look, at least partly camouflaged as irritation and disdain, that he gives to the bodyguards. Looking for any sign of weapons, gauging how they move, how fast and strong and effective they're likely to be, his odds of getting to and out the nearest exit with the girl if things go bad enough he has to cut and run. It... honestly doesn't look good, but that doesn't mean he won't try. And big as the seller is, at least he doesn't seem to be much of a threat.

"Best way to get rid of me is to sell me the girl, I'm sure he can go find himself another toy somewhere else." He's still managing to project confidence despite his building anxiety, and he takes a chance and partially turns his back to the fat man and his flunkies, hoping he can somehow manage to convince the big redhead that it's easier to just sell to him for an inflated price and move on. "Are you really going to turn down a ten percent bump? Wouldn't you rather be selling to someone with a better appreciation for the value of your merchandise?" He pauses, looks considering for a moment. "Especially if it led to repeat business. At a similar price."

[ticktockgrin]

"One of the first rules is also not to screw over your business partners when you already have an established agreement," Dwayne says sagely, looking at Josh again. He pauses pointedly. "Especially when crashing a private deal."

Both the bodyguards are carrying, he has no doubt about that. Dwayne's suit is cut generously enough to cover the .45 under his arm, set for a left-handed draw, but there's still telltale lines. It's a big gun, even though he's a big man. He wouldn't be stupid enough to show up to a meet alone without it. Almost conversationally, he adds, "It's a rough business, kid. Trust me, getting your suits fitted with one of your legs is two inches shorter than the other for the rest of your life is not a smart career decision."

Fuck. The problem here isn't that the fat man can find another girl, it's that Dwayne doesn't want him to.

Okay. He's got this. The deal will go through. He brushes his jacket back pointedly. He'll deal with the kid, because otherwise, he'll be crawling home from an abandoned construction site on two shot-out kneecaps. It's a genteel threat, but still a threat, and at least he has a hotel room here where he can shake some sense into the little asshole or, if he's law enforcement, make some kind of case to cover things over. He doubts that's the case, though: he doesn't hear the telltale whine of a transmitter and this kid is too green to be undercover. And too damn noticeable: cops and feds are usually too smart to send someone that conspicuous into a deal like this.

So Dwayne lets his jacket gap open just enough to show the straps of his holster, casual without being threatening. This is the big leagues, kid. To the fat man, he says, "Far as I'm concerned, the deal still stands, and I apologize for the...inconvenience." He indicates Josh with the tilt of his head. "If you've got the payment on hand, then I'll handle the outstanding problems." His glance goes to the younger man. "Maybe we can work something out for another time, but I stick with my deals." One last shot at diplomacy...at gunpoint if necessary, but going with Dwayne is still a much better choice for the kid, whether he realizes it or not.

[tinkermoose]

It wasn't supposed to go this way, but sometimes things just go to shit and there's nothing you can do about it. Right now is obviously one of those times, as Josh's attention is drawn from discreetly eyeing the bodyguards to the big ginger... and the equally big gun he's carrying. It's not even a surprise that he's carrying, Josh had assumed he'd be the only one there who wasn't, well, besides the... merchandise... it's that he's making it very clear he's willing to use it, and looking like he's potentially a hell of a lot more competent with it than the easy going businessman image had led Josh--or his contacts and backers--to expect. And Josh knows exactly what he should do now, what he's supposed to do now. Back the hell off, take the bone the seller's offering and walk away with a potential line on god knows how many rescues. More kids bought out of this hell and given lives and safety.

Josh knows what he's supposed to do... but that involves leaving this kid, this girl whose face he's seen, in the hands of the kind of sick, sadistic fuck who keeps a stable of people for his perverted amusement.

He's still sweating, but the acrid tang of stress and anxiety rolling off him has eased, almost completely superseded by a sharper note of fear as he frowns, gaze shifting from the big ginger to the girl to his 'competition' and the man's restless bodyguards. He knows what he's supposed to do... and he knows what he's going to do, his anxiety washed away along with the pretense of the spoiled rich boy, with the complexities of a con he's never really been trained to handle, and replaced with anticipation of the violence he's been trained to since he could walk.

There's only a fraction of a second between decision and action. He thumbs the '911' text already keyed into the phone he's been fidgeting with in his pocket, pulls out the small, completely innocuous looking Swiss Army knife in his other pocket, the only weapon he's carrying, and flips it open in one smooth move as he spins, moving with entirely more speed and grace than anyone ever expects from a man his size. Fear he can handle. Fear is normal. Fear is acceptable. He doesn't expect to come out of this, but he'll be damned if that girl doesn't, and he takes the one move that should (might) keep him alive long enough to get the girl out of here, and goes to slide around the big redhead and make for the buyer. He's fast and he's strong and there's no way in hell those bodyguards are going to be able to stop him... and the redhead, well, he's big and he's not exactly young, no matter how hot he might be, so Josh is willing to take the chance that he can get past him.

[ticktockgrin]

Goddammit. The kid thinks he's a hero. He's not a wolf himself, so...just a sympathetic human, probably, and in way over his head because this is about to go seriously south. It helps that Dwayne was already watching for a move, could see it coming, because if he doesn't step in now, then cleanup is going to be a serious bitch. It was just that moment of decision, of action that he was waiting for, and when it comes, all Dwayne really has to do is turn into it.

He's faster than a guy his size should be, moving in and even though Dwayne is big, the guy's still got four inches of height on him, translated to a big reach advantage. Dwayne wouldn't put a hundred percent bet on himself if not for having the secret advantage, and as soon as they're both moving, he knows that he made the right choice stepping in. The smart bodyguard would have simply shot him rather than risk a wrestling match, broken his knee or something equally crippling to end the fight quickly.

Dwayne has a little more confidence in his hand-to-hand edge, though. He can get away with letting the kid off light.

Ease off. Don't rush in, let the kid come to him. Years of boxing reflexes kick in on top of more strength than the nice suit would imply, a smooth swiftness that's just as much practice and experience as innate speed. Josh's momentum combined with Dwayne's swing turns into a brutal blow to the diaphragm, only a little bit of Dwayne's supernatural strength and speed carrying the punch and most of the impact simply Josh's own movement hitting a surprisingly solid fist and a man unusually close to his own size and weight.

[tinkermoose]

Shit. Even with his ease with a gun the big ginger wasn't supposed to have been that fast. Or that on the ball. Josh had made the same mistake most people make with him--counting on him to be as slow as his size would lead you to expect--and he doubles over the fist that feels almost like it just appears in his diaphragm with a choking noise. He's pretty sure he's dead if he lets that stop him, though, and the girl might as well be with the hell she's being sold into. He struggles to suck in a breath past the burn of the blow, fingers locking tight on his knife against the impulse to let it slip from an almost nerveless grip, and almost flails as he reaches to wrap an arm around the seller's waist.

At least he's got the bulk of Big Red's body between him and the buyer's flunkies, still, even as he can hear them moving--not see them, because christ the guy caught him right in the phrenic nerve and he's pretty sure there's no way he can straighten up yet. What he can do, though, is shove his free hand into his attacker's jacket, still weak grip going unerringly for the gun the big man had shown off. If he can get hold of that, then maybe there's still a chance of at least getting the girl out of here. Maybe.

loop

[tinkermoose]

Damn, that smile- The guy had always been objectively hot, but there's something about him now, despite his obvious weariness, and it's not just that Josh now knows he's not a sadistic racist bastard. Or, well, maybe it is at least a little. He doesn't feel dirty looking anymore, anyway, and he smiles back despite his still pounding head. And, hey, he suddenly realizes that he doesn't have to refuse the ginger ale on principle anymore and reaches across to pop it open and take a sip as Dwayne answers him.

"Yeah, well, most people are tough to deal with sometimes, and I grew up around mercenaries and, well-" He ducks his head and frowns, an shamed flush spreading up his neck. "Hunters," he admits, voice going low and pained. He's seen plenty of the wrong side of this trade, and plenty of wolves as well, most of them in pretty damn bad circumstances. "I'm not much bothered by dangerous... and I have some debts to settle." Even if they were mostly accrued by his father, he can't shrug off the weight of them, the knowledge of what the man had done, and where at least some of the money had come from when his 'normal' avenues of employment had begun to tail off as he became more and more erratic.

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne feels his shoulders drop, now that they've come to a truce, and seeing Josh reach for the ginger ale feels like a confirmation of that. Crisis averted, and it's a good feeling, to know he can walk out of here without any bloodshed, and very possibly more help than he came in with. He tucks his pistol carefully into his waistband.

"That's a pretty good comparison, yeah." He nods, frowning slightly. The mention of hunters would worry him more if Josh didn't sound so disapproving, and anyway Dwayne has held his own against more than a few of those, too. Being cocky isn't good, but being relatively secure in his position as a polite, upstanding member of society? That's just fine. Anyone who wants to check Dwayne out might find some...creatively interesting finances and a secret room full of equipment that law enforcement might frown on, but the only dead bodies in his basement are the venison roasts in his extra freezer. "It's a lot of the same work, the same personalities, just with more rules." He tips his head. "'Don't get caught' is still one, since we get a lot of our funds and equipment from, well..." He waves a hand. "You get the idea. But even trying to play nicely with the law and everything, there's still some 'unique' personalities to deal with."

The debts thing, he'll ask about, eventually, and keep a close eye on Josh in the meantime...but so far, he's not hearing anything that makes him worry too much.

He frowns for a minute, then glances at the phone on the table, looking back at Josh. "And, before I get too far ahead of myself, you might want to call your buddies and let them know that I haven't dismembered you in the bathtub. I think they'd appreciate the heads-up." A small quirk of a smile behind his gingery beard. "Then we can talk about getting out of here and settling into a secure safehouse to wait."

[tinkermoose]

Mostly Josh is ridiculously relieved that he hadn't actually let that girl go helplessly into a life of slavery and abuse... it's only a secondary consideration to be glad he's not going to end up crippled or dead in a ditch somewhere. Which is possibly not a particularly healthy outlook on the situation, but it is what it is.

"Yeah, there, uh, seem to be a lot of similarities." He huffs a quiet laugh, that's maybe a little uncharacteristically bitter. "And more rules can't really be a bad thing." Not with that crowd. "Don't get caught's always the best one."

He tips a cockeyed smile at Dwayne and rubs his free hand over the thigh of his jeans before taking another careful sip of ginger ale. He's... just a bit queasy, so taking it easy is best. "I'm pretty good at stepping soft around people who need it, and I don't rile easy. Don't expect you to take my word on it."

He follows Dwayne's gaze to his phone then looks back to meet his eyes, smile widening a bit. He hadn't really expected that level of trust. "Thanks, that'll be a load off." He pushes up to his feet and staggers slightly, catching himself on the bedside table and leaning there for a second as the world steadies around him and his head pounds. "Damn, man, you pack a pretty good punch." He doesn't sound particularly bothered by the observation, and he straightens carefully and looks at Dwayne again, smile stretching wider still even though he's clearly a little bit unsteady on his feet. "For an old guy," he adds, the smile turning into a teasing smirk.

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne can't help but grin a little bit at the compliment. Oh, if only the kid knew, but to be completely fair with himself. "Ex-Army. Gotta stay in shape if you're going to stay in this business and not get eaten. You pack a pretty good punch yourself." He winces, remembering just how close he got to getting his wedding tackle rearranged. "Sorry to have to put you down like that, but they would have shot you first and worried about cleaning up the mess later." He frowns. "Probably with a shower curtain and some hefty bags, depending on how much they thought you'd be missed." Dwayne was still betting on a savage beating as a lesson, since Josh hadn't seen too much and was flashing around enough money to make it seem like he was important enough that his disappearance would be noticed, but still...not a guarantee. "Just take it easy, you did take a knock to the head, and we have time. This is the waiting game, now, so we can take a bit, get ourselves in order."

He has no doubt that Josh, with that boyish face, can do charming and harmless in spite of his size just as easily as he can do rampaging bull. It's a good quality to have, especially when his size alone is intimidating as hell. Dwayne's used the same ploy himself, the genial redhead who just happens to be built like a linebacker.

He snorts, at that last comment. "And I'm not that old." He pauses, reconsidering. "Okay, maybe old enough that I'd like to start looking forward to my retirement, but I also plan to be young enough to enjoy it when I get there." Fifty-five is good, he thinks. Fifty-five is a good age to throw in the towel. Maybe fifty if things go well and he doesn't think he'll get bored. He looks around forty, but he's closer to fifty, probably because he was already in his mid-thirties when he was turned and the lycanthropy virus isn't quite as assertive when it gets hold that late in life. So he's heard, at least. It still does a pretty damn good job of keeping him alive and in good shape, so he can't complain.

[tinkermoose]

Josh grimaces and flushes a little. "Um, yeah, sorry about your junk," he offers sheepishly. "And thanks. For not letting them haul me out to the alley and kneecap me." Or worse. He's well aware it could have easily been much worse than that', which he'd been willing to accept at the time, but is more than pleased, in retrospect, to have not had to endure, and he gives Dwayne another grin. The kind that makes him look considerably younger than his twenty-seven years and a lot less intimidating than his size should dictate.

"Not a lotta guys can put me down like that." It doesn't sound nearly as arrogant as that kind of statement could, but then it's pretty clear there simply aren't a a lot of guys who fight in Josh's weight class, and almost none of them move the way he does. He's ridiculously light on his feet for the giant of a man he is, and if Dwayne had been any slower or weaker things probably would have gone a completely different direction. Possibly a direction involving guns and hefty bags, so all's well that ends well... ish.

"An' I'm good, just need a sec." He waves a hand and shifts his weight again, making sure his balance is good. It's not like he isn't well aware he's concussed, he's had enough of them in his life to be more than familiar with the experience, but he figures this one's not bad enough to slow him down much or for long. He manages the couple steps to his phone just fine, though he is careful about bending to retrieve it. "Don't worry." And there's that smirk back as he glances up at Dwayne before heading back to the bed. He'll just... make his call while sitting, thanks. "You're plenty hot even if you are well into 'don't trust anyone over thirty' territory."

[ticktockgrin]

"If you'd been a bit more of a bastard or I'd been a bit less of one, I'd have been worried," Dwayne says, perfectly seriously. He glances down at his crotch, wincing just a little bit. At Josh's size, he's allowed to be a bit confident in that regard, because if Dwayne had been any smaller, werewolf or not, he would have been hedging his bets. As it is, he's lucky he's heavier and stronger than even his solid build suggests. Secret ace in the hole saves his ass again, and yes, he will be keeping it secret for...well, as long as he fairly can.

The fact that Dwayne turns into a two-hundred-plus pound timber wolf on his days off is a need-to-know basis. Josh doesn't, yet.

He rolls his shoulders, working the kinks out. The fact that Josh is up and moving is a good sign. He seems to know his body's limits, has been roughed up enough times to know when he can keep going and when to just lay back down, so Dwayne figures he can trust him enough to say he's good to go. He'll still be keeping an eye on Josh for signs of more damage than just a little roughing up, and if anything alarming turns up, then he'll change the plans to involve a doctor (under the table, of course).

And at that last, Dwayne has to laugh. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he says, genuinely pleased with the compliment but doing his best to look at least a little coy, smoothing his neatly clipped beard smugly. "I like to think I've got the 'over forty' category nailed, too." He knows he's in good shape, but it's not every day that he gets to hear it from an attractive young (much younger) man, and damn right he's going to bask in it a little bit.

Then he smiles just a bit, the corner of his mouth tilting in wry amusement. "And since we aren't finishing up this trip with you shoved in the trunk of my car, I think you can probably call me Dwayne, by the way."

[tinkermoose]

"Yeah, well-" Josh huffs, head ducking slightly as he keeps grinning. Apparently he really doesn't hold a grudge... but then, between them he figures Dwayne would be the one entitled to given he got punched in the nuts. "Glad I didn't do any lasting damage." And damn glad that Dwayne hadn't either... and if Josh had any clue what Dwayne's hiding he'd be damn impressed with his restraint and control, too. He knows just how much stronger weres are than humans.

Josh echoes Dwayne's laugh, easy and warm despite the circumstances. He's nothing if not good at rolling with the punches, literal or figurative. "Yeah? I'll keep that in mind." And it won't exactly be a hardship, given how appealing that self-satisfied, smug look is on the big ginger... and the fact that Josh tends to flirt like breathing, even if he rarely means for it to go anywhere.

He huffs out another laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners and shoulders shaking... then winces slightly and presses a hand to his head. "Ouch." He scrubs the hand down his face then drops it again and fiddles with his phone, smile back in place already. "Well, I can think of plenty of places I wouldn't mind you shoving me, but the trunk of your car definitely isn't on the list." He winks teasingly, because why not? And it never hurts to make sure up front he's not saddling himself working with a homophobe, if he is hopefully they can find some way to end this, preferably still amicably, before things go any farther. "I'm Josh. Warner." Because he might get that out there up front as well, given his dad had an extensive and less than savory reputation.

[ticktockgrin]

"Hmph. Well, you and me both on that count. I'm not quite done with the set yet, thanks." Wild oats to sow and all that, right? He's old, not dead. Really. (Though wishing he were ten years younger right now, even if it's not particularly professional. It's not often that he runs into a guy that makes him feels small(ish), and it's an intriguing possibility, one he thinks under better circumstances, he might be interested in exploring...)

It's funny how things can settle down after the adrenaline dies. Once it's clear that it was a fight neither of them really wanted? That's good enough. Dwayne grins, shaking his head in amusement. Good to let off a little steam for both of them before they get down to business, especially since the waiting part of the game is always kind of tetchy. Relax a bit, get a feeling for each other, and just how far they can trust before it actually comes down to stress-testing.

The name doesn't ring any bells, being a pretty common surname anyway, but Dwayne has his own experiences with family he doesn't want to be associated with. Thankfully, he doesn't expect his brother to be showing his face anytime in the near or not-so-near future, but the mention of his younger sibling's name is enough to make him cringe, too. Josh might find him more forgiving than he expects. "If I get a choice in this business, I like a clean operation. Everyone gets paid, everyone walks away. There's a lot of backstabbing and bullshit, but that's not my preference. It's a business, just like anything else, and you can't work with people if there isn't some kind of trust, you know?" He smiles faintly, and shakes his head. "It's not exactly a clean business, but it doesn't have to be dirty, either. You can do this and still have some standards."

Because you can't swim in the same pool with these assholes and not come out a little dirty. Or already be dirty enough not to mind the water.

Loop!

[ticktockgrin]

Josh has a couple hours to sleep before Dwayne feels secure in packing up to go. If he's still got lookout outside, he hopes they brought coffee and a good spot to settle in (and while Dwayne might be smartass enough to send a Starbucks delivery out to them, it's better to avoid getting them involved right this moment.) It will take a bit for a runner to deliver what Dwayne's asked for to the safehouse, anyway.

Awake and alert, Dwayne passes the time reading on his phone until it's a good time to move. And if he glances over occasionally to watch Josh sleep, well, he's just keeping an eye on things. In spite of his size he looks even younger, asleep. Sprawled on the bed and thoroughly enjoying it, and Dwayne is reminded he does tend to take it for granted, these days. It's been a long time since his days of getting by on cramped barracks racks, and if he's going to spend his money on anything, it's comfort.

So it's nice to see someone appreciating the huge bed for a bit, and even if it's not for too long it's enough time for Josh to get rid of some of his headache and let his shirt air out. And Dwayne can be sure that the safehouse is ready and waiting by the time he gives a huge stretch, head to toe, and wanders over toward the bed area of the room.

His wolf wants to go over and give the shirts hanging on the shower rod a good and thorough sniff, but it's an impulse he firmly denies in favor of simply rapping on the doorframe. "Hey. You feeling good enough to move out?"

de doop

[tinkermoose]

Josh sleeps remarkably peacefully for someone who's putatively a prisoner, and it doesn't take him long to go from decorously curled up on his side to spread-eagled face down across pretty much the entire bed. He hardly moves after that, though when Dwayne finally gets up and starts moving around he actually shifts a little, and when he raps on the doorframe he rolls onto his side and blinks his eyes open, looking groggy and disoriented for all of five seconds or so before it evidently comes flooding back to him.

He scrubs his hands over his face then sprawls onto his back and stretches luxuriously before even trying to answer. "Ye-ah." It's broken up by a yawn, and he looks sheepish when he pushes himself to sit upright and try again. "Yeah, I, uh, I think so." He swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits there for a few seconds, then smiles up at Dwayne. "Yeah, I'm good. Don't feel like I'm in danger of face planting when I stand up anymore, and the gnomes have stopped playing drums in my head."

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne's made several calls while Josh showered and slept, a good parts of those text's to ensure that the safehouse he wants to use is properly stocked for both himself and a guest. At least some of the time he's waiting at the hotel is to give his runner time to make the deliveries, and if Josh can use the nap, well, that all works out.

The young man is pretty damn cute asleep, once he's relaxed enough to sprawl, and Dwayne lets him rest a little longer on seeing how comfortable he is. There's no scent of sickness or bleeding from him, so Dwayne is content to simply keep an offhand eye on him as the time passes. The extra time doesn't do any harm, particularly since the hotel room is paid for, and the longer after the fat man has left, the less chance of any sort of confrontation on the way out. It makes things easy, and Dwayne? He's patient. He hasn't made it in this game this long by rushing things.

***

It's a few minutes' drive out from the hotel and Dwayne takes a long, winding route through the city streets before taking the highway out to the suburbs. The safehouse is quiet, a nice little one-story house set back from the street, occupied and kept up just enough to keep too many questions from being asked. Rental turnovers these days are high in this economy: an absentee owner isn't notable as long as the property's well-maintained. He's got places to lay low in the city, but for this particular operation, he likes the space of the suburbs. Especially with a guest, and the potential for more people coming and going as they work on who else they'll need for this operation.

In spite of only using the house occasionally, as both a meeting place and occasional temporary housing, Dwayne's kept it clean, neat and secure, so when he and Josh arrive, it's a nice calm place to hide out for a few days. He scents the air surreptitiously as he unlocks the door, reassured that the only recent visitor has been the runner.

Further proved by the plastic shopping bags on the couch and the groceries on the counter. Dwayne gives the place a long, slow gaze around, then nods and steps aside to let Josh in. "Clothes so you aren't stuck in those, and groceries. Plenty of hot water and the utilities are on, so should be all set for a few days. However long this winds up taking."

The SUV is safely stashed in the garage and they're settled, so now they can wait. Not the easiest part of the job, but at least they're comfortable and can make a little use of the time.

"Won't be gourmet, but I think we'll get by," he says with a smile, rubbing at his beard and giving the rest of the groceries a glance. Plenty of supplies, including enough supplement shakes and general high-protein, high-carb food to fuel Dwayne's metabolism without attracting attention. It's only a few days. If Dwayne can't get by that long without giving himself away, it's time to hang up his hat.

[tinkermoose]

Josh is, as promised, easy and cooperative about getting out of the hotel and to Dwayne's safe house. He's made his decision, and he's pretty sure it's a good one; he's not going to try and change his mind. He's made sure his own contacts know he's safe and won't be looking for him, and they're probably attributing his disappearance to a bad reaction to losing the girl--reasonable, considering how much they know about what kind of hell she's gone to. There was good reason, after all, Josh had been willing to put his life on the line trying to get her out.

He waits patiently behind Dwayne as he surveys the interior, then follows him in and looks around as well. Dwayne's clearly working with more funds than the group he's been with, being able to keep a place like this on hand. As soon as the door's closed behind them Josh toes out of the uncomfortable dress shoes he's heartily sick and tired of wearing, then sucks off the suit jacket and tie he'd put back on for the trip rather than leave behind or carry. Suits that fit him aren't easy to come by, after all, especially nice suits that fit him well, and he lays them both neatly over the back of the couch then pads into the kitchen, tugging his dress shirt loose and rolling the sleeves up as he walks.

"I'm not much of a gourmet guy, anyway." Josh grins, easy and impish. "Never enough food. Want help putting this all away?"

Crap. I was sure I'd posted this...

[ticktockgrin]

It's a gamble on both sides, but if Dwayne wants enough trust to be able to work with Josh, to get a good read on the kid, he's got to give a little.

Luckily, the younger man makes it easy. He's already making himself at home and Dwayne is doubly glad he thought of getting extra clothes for him.

Resources make this job a lot easier. Granted those resources aren't exactly legally obtained, but if he's going to make money, at least it's from people who he doesn't regret scamming. There's a certain sense of satisfaction in using slaver money to rescue slaves. Combined with a little wise investing, it turns into a pretty good amount of money, nearly enough to keep them afloat without a day job. They're a small scale operation but the ones they save, they can support for long enough to get back on their feet, instead of just pulling them out and dropping them right back into the same desperate circumstances.

And that means something. Dwayne has never been one to do a half-assed job on anything.

"Fridge and freezer should be full already so this can go in the cabinets," he says with an airy wave, moving to put the boxes of cereal on top of the fridge. "We can eat in tonight, keep a low profile, but if things stay quiet, maybe get some pizza or Indian delivered to keep from getting too bored." He rolls his big shoulders, a half-smile on his face. It might not be the perfect situation, but they could do a lot worse. Stakeouts are never a party, but decent food and a good bed make a big difference. If they've got to stay put, it's better they use the time to make sure they're well-rested. "May not be paradise, but we won't suffer while we're waiting, and if something happens sooner rather than later, we're ready to move. And you can get showered up, get another icepack on that head, and work the kinks out before we actually have to do anything that involves getting around in a hurry."

They'll have some planning to do, but settling in comes first.

well, that makes two of us. Thought I'd done this a couple days after you tagged :/

[tinkermoose]

Josh follows Dwayne's lead and starts unloading the groceries and checking the cabinets to figure where they fit, moving easily around him in the small space as the older man talks, though his attention kind of loses focus for a moment as he catches that half-smile and the way Dwayne's shoulders shift under his shirt at the easy roll. Man, he doesn't run into many guys approaching his size, and even fewer of them who are fit and, well, built... and he needs to stop noticing that and keep his focus on business before he makes things awkward.

"I can cook some," he offers, smiling, as he finds space for a bag of rice in the cabinets and then checks the drawers for where to put a loaf of bread. "I can throw something together for dinner, if you want?" Because he might as well make himself useful in the one way he can, under the circumstances, and there's plenty of time for him to shower and change before getting dinner started. And besides, if he's cooking then he's not sitting around staring at Dwayne while he cooks. "And really?" He grins at the older man, hip propped against the counter. "Right now a shower and fresh clothes sound pretty darn close to paradise, and pizza's not far back on the list, so I'm sure not gonna complain."

[ticktockgrin]

"I think that's a fantastic plan." Dwayne grins as he finishes with the bag and tugs at his shirt cuffs, then his collar. He's got his own go bag, of course, and changing his clothes is a priority as soon as he can manage. Just because he wears a suit well, that doesn't mean it's his preference and he'll be happy to get into some jeans or sweats.

He tips his head at Josh. "I think I can let you get away with that much without an audience." Coppery eyebrows quirk. Would he sit there and watch the younger man shower to make sure he doesn't go out a window? He would. He would also enjoy the hell out of it.

But they have a job to do, and they've come to a pretty good agreement. He still grins, though, letting just a tiny bit of the wolf out. "And you're welcome to the cooking. I can grill a steak or a chicken with a beer can up its butt, but I'm lazy and I know it." Nothing like really good take-out to file the rough edges off an apex predator. "If you wanna go get cleaned up and changed, I'll take first shift lookout. I expect things will be pretty quiet for the night unless one of the other guys on watch rings us in, so you can rest off some more of that headache and I can get you caught up on...well, whatever I need to. Answer any more questions you've got."

[tinkermoose]

"Awesome! It'll be great to get out of the monkey... suit." Josh realizes he's staring again as Dwayne tugs at the collar and cuffs of his dress shirt, and he finds himself wishing the big ginger would maybe open a couple buttons. Or roll the sleeves up. And oh god he's just as glad he hasn't, because then he'd probably be doomed in the staring department, and he turns away to poke into another cabinet, licking his lips at his suddenly dry mouth.

He might be doomed in general, actually, sharing space with Dwayne for who knows how long... and the man's next comment doesn't help, or the look on his face when he makes it, because it just makes Josh think of taking that shower with an audience. And that Dwayne wouldn't be unjustified in expecting to keep an eye on him, all things considered. And, crap, that he's torn between being mortified and... jesus, he really doesn't need this, turned on at the thought. Thank god it's not actually going to happen.

There's not a darn thing he can do about the blush he feels heating his cheeks, but he keeps his back mostly turned to Dwayne, with poking around in the cabinets as an excuse, and just turns his head enough to meet his eyes. And catch that sharp, bright grin and the quirk of coppery eyebrows, and he has to bite back the urge to flirt. Because, yeah, he's always known he has a thing for big guys... and for gingers... and maybe a bit more interest in older guys than is strictly standard, but this is business, important and dangerous business and a potential in for being able to do a heck of a lot more good than he's been managing so far, and he needs to not let his libido screw it up.

"Yeah." Oh good, he doesn't sound strangled, though maybe a little hoarse. "Sounds like a plan, I'll just-" He nods at the cabinet he currently has open. "Poke around a bit more and figure out dinner first, then have that shower." And maybe after that he'll be able to keep his cool through cooking and eating, talking through the situation some more, and then escaping to crash out for a while.