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]

"Figure you're probably as big on the calories as I am." Josh smiles back over his shoulder again and finally finds his stride as he pulls out a jar of sauce and a package of dried spaghetti. "Think a pound'll do us both?" And the question is completely sincere, because he knows just how much he'll eat if given free rein and he's not above taking the opportunity if it's given. "Sub rolls'd be perfect for that." And he adds a jar, yes, of crushed garlic to his haul with a kid in a candy store grin and deposits everything on the counter.

He's definitely too big to smuggle, but the one thing Josh has never had any trouble with is getting on with people. He doesn't have a naturally aggressive bone in his body, despite a lifetime of his dad trying to train it into him, and what temper he has is hard to raise... so long as he's sober, which is one of the reasons he doesn't like to drink. He's not a mean drunk, but he's a lot easier to set off, and he's seen where that road leads.

"Looks like I've got everything I'll need," he announces, surveying his prizes. "Saw ground beef and sausage in the fridge, and if there's any parmesan in there that'll just be gravy." He looks down at himself, then at the bags of clothes before turning his attention back to Dwayne. "So I think I'll take that shower now, get cleaned up and changed before I manage to spill anything on my best-" Only, but he's not going to say that- "dress shirt, and then I'll get supper going while you do whatever you need to. Sound like a plan?"

[ticktockgrin]

Plus, Josh has some actual, good groceries to work with. Decent jarred spices, even if it's just a few of them. Butter instead of cheap, watery imitation spread. Good quality grated and shredded cheese. Nothing meant for a complicated menu, but definitely enough to throw together a couple of steaks and a salad, some french bread pizzas, or, well, yes. Spaghetti.

Dwayne smirks. Josh has no idea... "It definitely won't go to waste. I don't fight heavyweight anymore, but ring weight hasn't changed." He rolls his shoulders, amused. Big and solid without tipping into "too stacked to move", but there's no mistaking him for anything but a tank. Now that he has a plan, he does unbutton his cuffs, just as ready to get his stiff dress clothes off, and he rolls up his sleeves as he talks.

They both seem to be charmers, not just bricks, and Dwayne likes that. It makes him a lot more confident that, were Josh to stick around, he could actually work with him, and God knows that if the kid was really serious about this, he would be better off with someone who knew what they were doing. The exact, ugly details of just what kind of ending the story could have had are still a little too fresh in mind and the more Dwayne watches Josh, the more his wolf disapproves. He fights well, but he's still just a pup.

Well, the wolf doesn't get a full say in the matter. But Dwayne does agree that Josh isn't cut out to be muscle...not if he wants to keep that brightness.

"I ordered a few things for you in those bags there. It was short notice, but I already know my way around the Big And Tall store, so it should fit." He indicates the shopping bags on the couch. "I may make a trip by some contacts later, but that'll be strictly a casual occasion, so jeans will do the job. No black tie affairs on the planner at the moment." He gives a look around, searching for anything that needs immediate attention. There isn't much, but he'll be fidgety for a bit until they get settled in anyway. May as well burn off the energy with whatever is most productive. "Go ahead and get clean. Just make sure to take a break if you get dizzy, alright? No accidents. I'll finish up out here."

[tinkermoose]

Aw man, that smirk. Josh grins back at him with a quiet chuckle... that almost goes choked when Dwayne does unbutton his cuffs and roll his sleeves up. God, he's so doomed. It's not that he isn't good at keeping it to himself and keeping things normal when he's attracted to guys, he's not a jerk, after all. But it's a bit different in this kind of close quarters and he shifts his attention determinedly back to his ingredients, lining them up near the stove for something to do.

"Yeah, kinda figured finding storage for leftovers isn't likely to be much of an issue." He's still young enough that he can eat like it's going out of style, especially combined with his habitual exercise regimen. As much as he hated most of his father's obsessive training, he's never managed to walk away from it entirely. He might not fight or shoot much anymore, but there aren't many who can keep up with his morning workouts. Dwayne's assessment's pretty spot on, though--he's more than qualified to be the muscle training-wise, as Dwayne learned back at the hotel, but temperament is a completely different matter, and the ugliness and violence would eat away at him over time.

"Man, you're a life saver." He turns back around, figuring he's going to have to just get used to it sooner rather than later, and it was more the act of watching the big redhead roll his cuffs up over his forearms that had caught him off guard for a second there than anything. "Figure close counts, won't be the end of the world if I look a bit like I'm prepping for a flood, right?" And given Dwayne's own proportions the odds are good the t-shirts, at least, will fit fine. And he will not hope that they're a little tight for purposes of showing off, because this is professional and he's trying to make a good impression, dangit... and not that particular type of good impression, either.

He smiles again, none of his awkwardness showing in anything but his scent, which he isn't aware of being an issue, and goes to rifle through the bags just enough to make sure he has the right ones. "Yessir, promise not to brain myself in the bathroom." He glances over as he hefts the appropriate bags and grins, quick and bright, then turns for the bathroom before adding, "It's bad enough you had to haul me through the hotel like a sack of potatoes, having to deal with me naked and wet and out like a light would just be adding insult to injury."

[ticktockgrin]

"If it lasts long enough to go into the fridge, it won't be a problem," he says with a nod. "This place gets used as temporary housing sometimes, so it actually has necessary things like towels and Tupperware." He's giving away a bit more than he should, probably, but he doubts Josh is likely to run off with it to the highest bidder. Especially considering they rotate locations with pretty fair regularity.

Hopefully, Josh doesn't suffer too badly with the clothes, considering Dwayne made an educated guess for a guy even bigger than himself. Having errand runners to make a fast shipping trip while Josh was shopping is, admittedly, one of the better perks of being the boss and having resources. Considering the bad old days when he'd done this waiting game in a cramped van, or a cheap, foul-smelling apartment, living on Powerbars and whatever take-out was nearby...He's come a long way. Still not glamorous, exactly, but it allowed them the shelter and rest that let them function at their best. "I had to make some fast guesses at your sizes, but they should be wearable."

"Naked, wet, and unconscious is sort of the trifecta of awkward," Dwayne agrees solemnly. "Not that I'm not a gentleman." And he couldn't throw Josh over a shoulder far more easily than he'd admit. "It's one way to prove I'm still in shape, at least until I pull something, but it's also kind of a hard precious memory to forget." The smirk widens into something mischievous.

"If it helps you feel better, though, if it had been more than a few feet I would have just gotten a luggage cart."

[tinkermoose]

"Yeeeah, I'll take a pass, thanks." Besides, if there's ever any nakedness involved Josh would very much like to be wide awake for it, thanks. Which there will not be, dammit. And he's going to stop thinking about it. Immediately. Because he's too old for this kind of nonsense and there's no way he's going to screw up his chances for getting in with an organization that clearly knows what it's doing. He wants to make a real difference, and this is the best chance that's come his way in years.

"Pretty sure I made a bad enough first impression as it is, no need to double down," he adds, turning to walk backwards a step before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom, bags in hand. It's as well set up as Dwayne had indicated--and the window is, in fact, way too small for him to slip through even if he'd wanted to--and it only takes him a moment to find everything he needs. The shower head's even high enough that he only has to duck a little to get his hair, something he imagines he can thanks Dwayne's own height for. And if he spends a bit more time in there than is strictly necessary, well... the water pressure's good. And he's recently concussed. And, okay, his ostensible 'captor' is stupidly hot in all the right ways and if he takes the edge off in here then maybe the odds of embarrassing himself out there will go down a bit. At least he's quiet about it... and young enough still that it doesn't exactly take long.

All of which means he's at least a little more relaxed when he pads back out of the bathroom a little over half an hour later, barefoot and in surprisingly well-fitting jeans--a little baggy, thank god, rather than tight, and with shoes on it probably would be barely noticeable that they're fractionally short--and an only slightly too-tight t-shirt that, yes, shows all the hours of training Josh puts in to best advantage. Even the underwear aren't too bad combined with the room in the jeans and, all in all, Josh feels pretty comfortable as he scruffs a hand through his shaggy, still-damp hair and looks for Dwayne.

"Ready for me to start dinner?" He definitely is, but if Dwayne has anything else to handle he can hold it off for a while and just crack open one of those bags of chips or something.

[ticktockgrin]

"You could have done worse," Dwayne says, a small smile on his face. "I've got a few stories of jobs that didn't go exactly right, myself."

* * *

Josh taking an extra-long shower is also a good chance for Dwayne to change, then wolf down a couple of protein bars. By the time the younger man is done, Dwayne is feeling a bit more secure in his stomach's status.

That doesn't mean he wants to wait on dinner, though. "Busy day, if you want to get dinner on, I definitely won't complain." His wolf is tempted to go rushing into the bathroom and get every last scent of Josh's scent while it's still fresh and wet, but Dwayne has more restraint than that. He's comfortably out of his suit and in a pair of sweats and T-shirt, which is a vast improvement, even if it takes away some of that "respectable businessman" image.

And he's fairly pleased with his size guesses for Josh's wardrobe, including the slightly snug T-shirt. Dwayne is reminded that for a werewolf, he's a lazy bastard. He's in excellent shape, but not nearly as defined...aside from his supernatural advantage, he mostly just relies on a regular jog, some light weights work, and the occasional sparring to keep himself on the ball.

It's not just strength, after all. In the ring, he'd taken down plenty of guys who'd put too much confidence in just being bigger. Likewise, he'd dropped more than a few who'd assumed because Dwayne was big, he put all his focus on it in a fight.

Having decided to take the middle ground, Dwayne drops down on the couch, in conversing distance to the open kitchen without crowding Josh. Wolf instincts at work even when he doesn't plan for it.

[tinkermoose]

Oh man... Josh is ridiculously glad he took the edge off when he catches sight of Dwayne, because sharp as he'd looked in the suit, dressed down for the evening in t-shirt and sweats he's possibly even more distracting. If he actually thought there was a god he'd be really tempted to think he was a sadistic bastard and was screwing with him for fun, the way Dwayne nails a pretty solid cross-section of his competence kink, his thing for gingers of either sex, and his marked preference for big guys.

It's a welcome relief to be able to head straight for the kitchen and distract himself with the easy routine of getting dinner started, and he rummages around until he comes up with a pot for the pasta and a big skillet for the meat and sauce. He's not any kind of gourmet, but he's been functionally on his own for most of his life, and spaghetti's something he can throw together pretty much on auto-pilot. "So, what are the odds I'm gonna get a chance to make myself useful any time soon?" he asks once he's got the ground beef and sausage browning and water on to boil for the pasta. "Versus, y'know, just cooling my heels and staying out of the way?" Because, really, that's a lot more important than how distracting Dwayne's forearms are, and he's going to get, and stay, on track, dammit.

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne has a feeling he's going to have his hands full with this one. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing, and he knows his way around the kitchen (which he finds doubly charming, with how comfortable he is with it. Stereotypes? Pfeh, and Dwayne appreciates that.)

"Things tend to be very 'hurry up and wait'. On a job like this, though, things hit the fan fast when they do." He rubs at his arm. How far in does he want to drag Josh? That's a hard call. He knows the kid is willing, but he also is human. No matter how sincere and serious he is, some things in this operation, he's not going to be able to back out of once he's seen. "Extraction always tends to get messy, even with the edge of operators on the inside." He frowns. "You pretty much picked the deep end to jump into. Any other day, I'd take you on a stakeout, maybe lurk a bar to get you started."

He smiles, and rubs at his wrist idly. "If you're really that antsy, though, we can always go out back and try a little sparring. Blow off some steam, and see how you do when it's not a sucker-punch." He looks innocent.

[tinkermoose]

Josh had actually meant the question more as a matter of would he be allowed to be useful rather than would the opportunity arise, the fact that Dwayne's treating it as the latter is something he's going to take as a positive sign. "Yeah, well-" His smile's more than a little impish as he starts chopping onions to toss in with the browning meat. "I've pretty much always sucked at the whole slow and easy thing," he admits. "Once I'm in I'm all in." It's pretty much how he'd dealt with walking out on his father, coming out, and, once he'd realized exactly what had been going on right under his nose for so much of his life, and was still going on in too many places, with getting involved in the werewolf rescue movement.

"Sparring... man-" He hides a blush, or tries to, by focusing his attention back on the food as he scrapes onions into the pan and gives it a stir, and tries not to think about just how up close and personal that would involve getting with Dwayne. "Wouldn't mind a chance to prove I'm not completely incompetent." He glances back up from beneath his eyelashes and makes eye contact, not letting himself be distracted by Dwayne's forearms, or the tendons in his throat.

[ticktockgrin]

"Well, if I didn't think you'd be useful, I would have dropped you someplace out of the way until this was over," Dwayne points out. He watches Josh move around the kitchen without being creepy about it, but his wolf likes keeping an eye on the younger man. Prey? He hasn't sorted it out yet. Josh definitely isn't a dominant, not a threat (at least not in that way), but Dwayne...

Well, the pack thing hasn't worked our well for him. Just ask his ex-wife. Dominant enough not to fold when expected to, but with no interest in power plays...That hadn't made for the player Caroline had wanted but it had raised a lot of hackles in a very unstable pack.

Dwayne was pretty sure that wasn't why his wolf was watching Josh's every move but, just in case, he'll be wary.

"I'm still trying to decide how much is safe to let you see. For you, and for the other people I'm working with. But so far, you seem like a good kid, and you aren't coming in blind, and I'd be a liar if I said we couldn't use the help." He leans back and rubs his eyes. Okay, so he is a little tired, considering how complicated today had gotten, and his nerves weren't helping. This was a big operation and of course he was going to be worried. And his voice is a little lower when he says, "Sometimes, it gets bad. I'm not going to lie about that. We try and use the law to our advantage to keep things from getting ugly, but considering the kind of people that we're dealing with, and the fact that werewolves are involved...which a lot of the time, aren't even considered human..." He trails off, and shrugs again. He's pretty sure that Josh understands what he means. And if he doesn't, then he'll spell it out.

But things go bad, and sometimes there's violence. Sometimes people get hurt badly, and sometimes, people die. Dwayne's been lucky so far, but he's not going to pretend it's not a possibility, or that there isn't blood on his hands.

[tinkermoose]

Josh flashes him a quick, pleased smile at Dwayne's words, not even questioning the way the older man has cut right to the heart of his concerns without him having to voice them. He's definitely not dominant. At all. He'll stand up for himself, but he won't challenge a competent leader he respects, and he's more likely to walk away from an incompetent one he doesn't and go his own way than to push for power. So far, everything he's seen of Dwayne is telling him to stay.

"Hey man, you've gotta do what's right for your people, not gonna hear any arguments from me." He tosses in some garlic he's been peeling and chopping while talking, and then hits the whole pan with some salt and pepper and turning the heat down a little. It smells like browning beef with the sweet overtones of the sausage and onion and garlic and his stomach rumbles in anticipation as he shifts over to prepping the garlic spread and the bread it's going on.

"And, uh... yeah." He ducks his head, pleased again for the distraction of cooking. "Believe me, I know it can get ugly." He's only seen the aftermath, so far, and heard the stories... some of them from, or about, men and women, even children, his father had hunted down and sold into their slavery. And he's heard about what can happen when rescue operations go wrong, not that there are that many of them. Too many people just don't care at all, don't think of werewolves deserve any of the rights or consideration of humans. It makes his stomach twist and his voice drop. "I, uh... I wanna help, though. I know what I'm getting into, and I'll do whatever I can to help."

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne smiles, wiping his palms on his jeans. God, he gets kind of preachy at times. He gives Josh his best disarming smile, the one that says it isn't a lack of faith in Josh...just boilerplate.

Especially when he catches the brief drop of shoulders, the duck of head that means the younger man has his own thoughts about the matter. Dwayne says from the couch, "I spend a lot of time getting people out of this whole mess. There's ways to cut ties once you're in, but it's a hell of a lot harder than setting your boundaries before you're ever in that far. So I just wanted to know for sure." He shakes his head, and gets to his feet to wander the few yards to the kitchen. It's not a big house, and Josh has the stove going: distraction and space enough that Dwayne feels comfortable enough closing the distance a bit. He leans against the doorjamb, deciding that's close enough.

"So far? I'll say you look promising, though." He nods toward the stove with a small smile. "Cooking is a big bonus, too. But just in general. So I'm willing to give it a try if you are. Get you familiar with things, and...I don't know, if your friends have the same attitude, have a look at them later down the line." He rubs his short hair down, smoothing it. "But for now, getting through this job is the main goal."

He pauses, tilting his head, then frowns slightly. Okay, this part is probably a little crass, but, well...he'll bring it up anyway. "And that will mean, for what it's worth, a fair share of the profit, if there is any. Most of it goes back into operating and living expenses, but...fair is fair. You put your ass on the risk with the rest of us, you get a fair cut of whatever windfall." He rubs at his jeans leg again, blue eyes serious. He's admitting to felonies now, and if that's not a gesture of trust, well, it's a lost cause. "We scrub the money, and what gets handed back is clean. Where it goes after that? It's your call. Keep it, use it, or put it in the nearest church drop box and be done with it."

[tinkermoose]

Oh jesus, that smile. It drops years off Dwayne's face and Josh has absolutely no control over the way his own smile stretches in return. It takes the lingering shame at his own association, however unknowing, with the business, to wipe the last remnant of a smile from his face as he ducks his head and focuses more intently on getting dinner ready. He can't help but glance up again as Dwayne gets up and comes closer, though, and he gives up and allows himself a moment--just a few seconds, no more--to admire the view as the big redhead leans casually in the door frame. Yep, just as impressive in sweats and a t-shirt as in a business suit, just in a different way.

"I am sure," he assures Dwayne, quiet but firmly resolute. This might not be the kind of operation he'd been signed on with, but that was more for lack of opportunity than interest and he wants, more than anything, to be where he can do the most good. From what he's seen and heard, he's pretty sure signing on with Dwayne's operation will be a step in the right direction there. "Start me with whatever grunt work you have and gimme a chance to prove I'm useful is all I ask. And, yeah-" He pauses for a moment, thinking. "I might know a couple people who'd be interested in doing more than, uh, trying to buy people back." Because it's noble, and it's better than nothing, but... only barely. There's only so much you can do one sale at a time, especially when you have to scramble like hell for the funds to back it up... and are enriching the sick fucks who think it's okay to own people in the first place.

He pauses mid-stir of the meat when Dwayne mentions profit and casts a quick, confused glance the older man's way. Profit... is not something he'd actually considered as potentially factoring into the deal at all, and it takes him a moment to work out just where profit might even be coming from. And that it basically amounts to 'ill-gotten gains'. It takes him barely longer to decide that he's just fine with that, given the likely source. "Uh... wasn't honestly expecting profit to be on the table," he admits. And he's actually been half-worried in the back of his mind over the fact he'll likely be getting back to find he's been fired from his most recent job after this little unanticipated absence. Hopefully not evicted, though. He's only a little behind on rent and he's got some cash squirreled away, he'd been figuring he could make it work. "But if that's how it works I won't say no if you figure I've pulled my weight and earned something," he adds as he dumps the sauce over the meat and then slides the pasta into the boiling water.

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne nods. "Most of the people in the trade are elbow-deep in other things. Drugs, weapons, smuggling. Rivers of bad money. I don't know that any of us would feel right living high on what we take-" At least the people he works with the most, the ones who have an actual moral compass- "but when that money can buy better equipment, and gives us more time to focus on saving lives, I think we sleep okay with that."

He won't deny there's mercenaries out there that will take the check no matter where it comes from, but skimming from the bad guys means people get relocated safely, medical bills get paid, things they need like safehouses get bought without having to deal with a day job.

Less lies to juggle and fewer people at risk, for the handful of them at the core of the organization, and for the people just passing through, like Josh, it's a little bit of a hand up while they figure out just how serious they want to be about this.

Dwayne shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck, just a little wearily. It's amazing how big the whole thing has gotten, at times, and how he somehow managed to get in the middle of it. It still feels surreal to be the one in charge, especially on days like this when he lays it all out. It's not something he regrets, though...just has a hard time figuring out how it happened. He gives Josh a tired smile. "We don't count on it every time, but it happens often enough to be worth mentioning. But, the other side of it is, no freelancing, no helping yourself to the cookie jar, no side trips. You follow the rules, you get a share, but if you go cowboy, it puts everyone else at risk and we can't allow that."

He says it easily, though. Because he doesn't really expect Josh to be that type, not from what he's seen and said, but he has to say it anyway. All the rules up front.

[tinkermoose]

Josh watches Dwayne sidelong as he works on dinner, the weariness in his posture and the way he rubs at his neck. It makes him feel a little bad for having added to his burden, because no matter how much he wants to help, and how useful he hopes he can make himself, that doesn't change the fact that dealing with him has made Dwayne's life more difficult in the short run. Still, there's nothing to do about it now other than try to pull his... not inconsiderable weight.

"Yeah, well." Josh ducks his head a little, his own smile wry. "I'm not really the cowboy type, so we should be good there. "Now if you need a mechanic, that I can do." Which doesn't seem likely, all things considered, but it's one of the few things he can bring to the table other than his size and ability (and reluctant willingness) to bash heads as needed. "But, yeah-" He gives the pasta a last stir and then turns to lean against the counter with a shrug, the active part of the cooking mostly handled for now. "Just... tell me what you want me to do and I'll do my best." Including staying quiet and out of the way as needed. "Might not be the military type, but I can take orders just fine when it's needed."