bad girls do it well.

cheque first, smiles later. don't look to me for answers. i play a role in your shitty fantasy, and anything not discussed prior to transaction will be charged double. i keep my private life private, and that means i do not talk to you outside of five figures. i'm also very, very bored with necklaces.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

Once again, Jim was shocked to find just how much he liked seeing Anni smile properly. It was an odd look on her, but not an unpleasant one. Certainly not an unpleasant one. No, if anything, it made her seem almost even more unattainably lovely. At least while she was scowling and mocking and flicking her gaze as though you were gum left on her front step you could pretend she was just some horrid person you’d want to spend your life avoiding. But when she smiled she became the most wonderful person in the room, the person whose stories you’d want to hear over and over again.

Dammit, Jim, he thought, you’re on a job. There ain’t no use mixin’ business and pleasure, and this is an important case. Certainly not the kind of thing he could afford to do a half-assed job on. No, he would need his full attention focused on this one.

"Which ones are those?" He teased, grinning at her. He finished off what was left of his meal (mostly scrapings) and stacked his plates into an orderly pile. "The ones where you threaten to kill me, or the ones where you ask for my help? I may be a detective and all, but I’m still a man, and I hate to say it of my gender, but we’re awful bad at interpreting mixed signals." He winked at her. “Though I guess you’d know pretty darn well just how dumb the whole lot of us can be.”

[prettypumfrett]

She was truly amazed to see Mister James clean his plates and pile them neatly on one another, but was more amazed at how delicately he did so. Sure, he was a hound -- which led her to assume the worst -- but Mister James seemed refined, or at least subconsciously so. He held himself poorly and seemed to fall into the clutches of laziness. 

His question about which hints he was supposed to be picking up on made Anni grin a bit too widely. It wasn't kind to judge a book by its cover, and it was almost pitiful she had ever disregarded the man as anything but helpful. "Hm, maybe a bit'a both," she joshed. Anni tried to clear her face of any humorous expression, then leaned in close. "Though, I really do want your help, Mister James. I won't be able to find Christa without'chya, and I'm dead worried about anyone she comes in contact with."

Her words were sincere; Christa was more powerful than Anni, even if it was only by brute force. She had that schoolgirl charm, however, which could act as a very expensive lure to any man she felt hungry enough to devour. Anni's brow creased at the thought. Her gaze fell to the edge of the table closest to Mr James.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

Jim watched her carefully, realizing that he had ended up touching her despite his worries about doing just that. But she hadn’t bitten him, or thrown him through the window – two things he was absolutely certain she could do without much trouble – and so he decided to imagine that she hadn’t minded all that much. Either way, he’d do his very best to keep his hands to himself. Not that he was a touchy-feely person, exactly. He wasn’t. He liked shaking hands and brushing elbows and touching, the kind usually only done with the lights out, but as for that needy constant touching of someone else, well, he’d never had much patience for that.

Jim scooped the last of his eggs into his mouth, and finished off with a huge bite of sausage – right as she said the phrase “dog crate”. He laughed hard, and had to let out a few loud coughs to dislodge a chunk of meat that had attempted to close off his airways. He downed the rest of his coffee and let out a sigh before he replied. "Well, I’m not exactly police so I don’t have to report anything to anybody." He said. "I can’t see why I wouldn’t. Unless you don’t want me pokin’ round your friend’s business. Then I can leave it well enough alone. I can take a hint––" he smiled at her and gave a quick nod. "––I just choose to ignore them, most’a the time."

He liked hearing her laugh, and laugh properly, not that harsh, biting laugh she’d given him as a form of derision. Even though she was still making fun of him. He held himself back from saying something like "you’re a real firecracker, aren’t’cha", which was on the tip of his tongue. And she was. But she was also incredibly intelligent, and even more frightening than that. Over the short time he’d known her, he already knew she could kill him six ways from Sunday, and there was something both respectable and alluring about that fact. 

[prettypumfrett]

Anni watched him curiously, holding her fork up close to her cheek so her knuckles rested upon the soft skin. She could sense something amuck, but didn't want to say anything. The laugh he gave (along with a bit of a choke) made Anni smile brighter. It was wholesome and kind, something she was definitely not used to at all.

Any business of Christa's was business of her's, and Anni would have preferred it if Mr James wasn't snooping around her past. It was something better left untouched and kept buried. Perhaps more so for her sake, but if Mr James wasn't careful...

The young woman cleared her throat. "So, um, are ya gonna choose to ignore my hints, Mister James?" she tried, adding just a drop of sickly sweet into her voice that she hoped he would definitely choose to ignore any hint. Anni poked around at her plate, still mostly taken up by untouched food. Up past her eyelashes, the redhead tried to act sly.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

Jim worked his way across his plates with wild abandon, and no set order or rhythm, with the exception of his eating the meat first. He took long sips of coffee in between rabid mouthfuls. He knew he was eating across from a lady, and that he should be holding his fork in a manner that wasn’t just clenching it in his fists, but he was hungry as the wolf. Despite having eaten a huge Roast Beef submarine sandwich earlier (dressed, as it were, onions and everything) he was still sure he was going to be able to finish his meal. Breakfast for dinner – what a novelty.

In any case, he knew he’d burned some energy shifting back at Anni’s house, and his metabolism worked so quickly that he had to eat huge meals quite regularly to keep himself from feeling hungry; that was one of the reasons he’d been so ready to devour those humans he’d once called Neighbours right after he was transformed.

Despite eating as quickly as any house dog, he ate far more quietly. That was a matter of pride and personal grooming. He may hold his fork like a feral creature but he could do his best not to sound like one. Jim knew just how disgusting it could be to listen to someone wolf down their meal.

When Anni wiped her face clean, and then some, Jim smiled, then reached across the table to grab hold of her hand. He swallowed the food in his mouth before he went on. "You got it on the first go-round," he said softly. "don’t want you to wipe those lips of yours off now." He let go of her hand and pulled it back to his side of the table. "How would you insult me without ‘em? We’d be positively lost." He grinned, then folded his pancake in half twice with his fork, speared it, and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

[prettypumfrett]

Anni froze the second she noticed the man's hand reaching out towards her. Her breath caught in her lungs, allowing just a tiny squeak to escape. The words he spoke were soft and gentle, something she didn't entirely figure he was capable of. But then, really, she had been obsessed with decorating eggs for a good portion of the early 2000s. Assuming what a person was capable of was never for anyone else to do. She tried to let the trapped breath dribble out of her quietly.

She watched him fork an entire pancake into his mouth, a whole pancake, and was left to stare with her lips slightly parted. Her tongue darted out to wet them both, and continued to peck at her own plate. It was difficult to have an appetite when the man across from Anni had enough appetite for the both of them. She forced little bites anyway.

"So, uh, when we find Christa, d'you think you'll...continue investigating? Y'know, into whoever she -- uh, hm. Uh, disposed of? Or will ya just crawl back into your dog crate 'n continue sniffing out criminals?" Anni was almost smug with herself when she realised the unintended pun at the very end of her question. A small laugh managed to escape, and her teeth peeked out from behind bright lips.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

He half-watched as Anni’s expression shifted from irritable to surprised, his attention diverted by his efforts to free every last drop of milk from the little plastic pots provided with his coffee. He’d spent so many years drinking Café au Lait that it was odd to him to drink coffee without it being half-milk. Once he’d poured a sufficient amount of milk into it, he took a long sip. The coffee here was really, really good. Some of the best he was sure he’d ever had, and he’d had coffee in a lot of places. It was just the right kind of dark and bitter, and when coupled with the slight-sweetness of the warming milk, it made for a perfect cup of coffee.

After Emma had left with their orders, Jim smiled over the table at Anni. "Pancakes, ay?" He said. "Solid choice." He looked around the diner before returning his gaze to her. "You were right, too, about this place. It’s wonderful." He brought his hands onto the table and folded his fingers together. 

&&

Jim’s mouth spread into a wide, earnest grin at the sight of the food approaching. He moved his hands and coffee out of the way so Emma could set the plates down on the table. “Well, I plan to give it an honest try.” He replied, unrolling his knife and fork. He dug right in, spearing a sausage and biting off a large chunk.

He looked over at Anni, and bit his lip to keep from laughing at her with a smear of ice cream across her upper lip, her perfect visage marred slightly. He debated for a moment about wiping it off himself, but he wasn’t quite sure he wanted his hand any closer to her face than was necessary at this point in their relationship, so he settled for taking another bite of the sausage before he said. "You’ve got somethin’ on your face, cher."

[prettypumfrett]

Anni gave a chuckle as the man informed he would try. Trying wouldn't cut it -- he would have to really give it his all if he wanted to clean his plates. The way he ate was a bit crude, but it was typical of a canine. They ate like they lived: messy and blissfully without a care.

The woman ate her food politely, perhaps even played up a bit. She tried not to fork too much food at once, and hoped none of it would cling to her mouth. Anni was oblivious to the ice cream adorning her upper lip.

Mr James ate forkful after forkful, and Anni regarded him cautiously. At least he was breathing quietly through his nose. She hated the noises people made whilst eating like he was currently, though Mr James was barely making a noise at all. He shoved a chunk of sausage in his mouth. While chewing, he informed Anni there was food on her face.

She choked down her bite of pancake, instantly rubbing the back of her hand across her mouth and lips. "Did I get it off? What was it? Goodness, this is so embarrassing," she mumbled. Anni kept wiping at her mouth, paranoid there was something still there.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

Jim’s attention flicked from his menu to his table-companion, who he was ardently refusing to mentally refer to as his “date”. Because that would take things to a whole new level of bad and weird. A level of bad and weird where Anni and he were on a date, and where she wasn’t Anni the client with the missing friend, but Anni the woman. He had trouble speaking to women. It made it easier to think of them as people, as personalities, but then they’d flash a bit of thigh or flick their long, scented hair and it would hit him like a brick; woman.

Invariably, they assumed they were smarter and better than him, and sometimes they were entirely right. It most certainly didn’t help that for the most part, their weapon of choice was flirtation, something that was worse to him than a silver bullet. He never would’ve recognized it directed towards him if he couldn’t smell attraction hanging in the air like a rotting wreath of flowers. Jim’s eyebrows rose slightly at Anni’s drink choice. He’d pegged her as an Herbal Tea or Champagne sort of person, but everyone had their surprises. In any case, the sweet drink suited her, somehow. At least on the surface.

Ma’am. Oh, god. Jim actually let out a loud bark of laughter. He looked over and up at Emma. Boo, he thought, you fucked up big time. "I’m ready to order, if that’s alright with you." He said, trying to defuse the tension he could smell seeping out of Anni. Emma turned her attention back to him and gave him a small smile and a quick nod. She pulled her notepad from her apron and her pen from behind her ear, and readied herself. "I’ll have two orders of the Signature Breakfast, eggs poached, toast whole wheat, and sausage instead of bacon. Oh, and blueberry pancakes instead of plain."

Emma looked him over, obviously confused. To be fair to her, the Signature Breakfast was a big meal. "Are you… ordering for both of you?" She asked, trying to clarify. Jim shook his head and smiled at her. "Naw, just for me." He replied. He looked back over at Anni. “Do you know what you want yet?” He folded his menu back together and set about ripping open the tiny containers of milk for his coffee. 

[prettypumfrett]

Mr James tried to soften the blow of ma'am, but Anni wasn't buying the courtesy. She huffed a sigh quietly, tossing her chin into her palm, elbow to table-top. Anni didn't like to be addressed by anything other than miss, and even then it made her feel uncomfortable. 

Mr James ordered two of the same thing, and she assumed he was ordering for her, as well. Initially, Anni was almost...offended? in a way, since she had plans to eat something else. She also didn't like when men made up their minds for her -- they only ever ended up getting eaten. With that resentment bubbling under her skin, she barely heard lil miss Emma inquire if it was for both of them. Mr James answered with a no. 

Anni looked up from her stare at her menu, not moving her head. She blinked, then felt her cheeks flush quietly as he shifted his attention to her to ask what she wanted. Anni sat up straight, adjusting herself. "Oh, uh," she started. Anni turned to the waitress. "I'll have buttermilk pancakes, three, maybe? I'll pay for the third if needed, and, uh, two scoops'a vanilla icecream with chopped up bananas and strawberry sauce." She didn't give her order too quick, as she noted that Emma was scribbling away in longhand. It made her feel a bit better about the girl calling her ma'am. 

"Did you want chocolate shavings, too? We've got dark chocolate, now!" Emma suggested excitedly. Anni's mood lightened. "Oooh!" she hummed. "Yes, yeah! Sure. Can ya give me a little extra?" She offered Emma a genuine smile, and the blushing waitress mirrored it.

&&

Emma came back with Mr James' orders, as each one came with two plates each. And both were huge. Emma seemed to struggle, but managed rather well. Anni's eyes just about popped out of her skull when the plates were set before Mr James. "You gonna eat all'a that, Mister?" she gawked, wondering where it would go. Well, then again, he was a hound of some sort, right? So, it would make sense for him to use it as fuel instead of stored fat. Emma came right back with Anni's meal, and remarked on how yummy it looked. Anni agreed and got her cutlery ready.

The waitress left the two alone, and Anni was digging into her pancakes. A bit of icecream managed to kiss at her upper lip, though she didn't notice. 

[jimjamesjr-blog]

The diner was far nicer than anything he’d have picked out as a diner. The seats weren’t even made of vinyl, and really, what was a diner without sticky furniture? He let her pick the table, and followed behind her, looking about with polite amusement. The whole thing, from her head to her toes and this place, was so far outside of his comfort zone it was ridiculous. He’d been tossed out of more nice restaurants than he’d eaten in. Even though this wasn’t exactly a five-star restaurant. He slid into the chair across from her, and looked around. In the background the warm crackling of music changed from some 1970s hit to a 1930s jazz hit (both of which he was sure he’d heard in their original era). He looked back to her, before turning his attention to their server.

"Hello, miss." Jim said with a small smile. He’d basically perfected his routine for Talking To Strangers (And Especially Strangers Who Are Women), which included (a) not being an asshole (the hardest step) (b) not being frightening (also rather difficult) and (c) not being an awkward old man. She smiled back at him, and set down their menus in front of them.

"I’m Emma, I’ll be your server today." She said. "Can I get you two drinks to start with?" Jim looked down at the beverage section on the back of the menu. "I’ll have coffee." He replied, then looked over at Anni. His hope was that by the end of this meal, they’d know each other a little better, and perhaps even like each other. He didn’t like many people, but he had a feeling he’d like her. She was difficult, and rough around the edges. Hell, they were more different than cats and dogs, but he could empathize with that part of her. He unfolded his menu and looked it over while he waited for Anni. 

[prettypumfrett]

Anni loved the atmosphere of her little diner. It wasn't actually hers, but she had worked there enough summers to have it feel like home. She knew almost everyone by name (except for the one position which was cycled out every other season). Anni picked her favourite spot in the entire place, excited for Mr James' response. Would he like it? Hell, did she care? Apparently so, the way her heart rattled against her ribcage. 

A woman younger than her waltzed up towards them, offering them her name. Emma. Anni didn't know her, so she assumed right away it was the job that was cycled. The strawberry blonde girl with freckles looked absolutely lovely, and Anni suddenly wished she could be friends with her. It was an odd thought, but common enough that Anni could suppress it without a care. 

She waited for Mr James to order his drink, then Emma (and Mr James) looked to Anni. She beamed up at the bright-eyed girl, happy to just be in the diner. "I'll have a strawberry lemonade," she asked. Emma slipped her pen behind her ear, notebook in her apron pocket, and gave a sweet nod. She hurried behind the counter to pour them their drinks. 

Anni wondered if Martha was still working in the kitchen, since she made the best grilled cheese in the whole world. She also wondered if Cleo was still the owner. Most likely, though she did have plans to give the ownership papers to her daughter. She was lost in her thoughts when Emma arrived back at the table with their drinks. 

She sprung Anni from her thoughts when she asked if there was enough lemon. "I just made a few jugs this morning, and I wasn't sure how much lemon to add, since there is also strawberries, right? So I hope that it's alright, ma'am."

Anni was surprised to say the least, especially since she had never been addressed as 'ma'am' in her entire life. She also knew that ma'am was usually only given to women who were married or old, and she was neither -- so what was miss Emma's deal? "I'm sure it'll be fine, thanks," she tried, the tiniest ghost of annoyance hinting in her voice.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

He nodded as she explained, glad they were just moving on past what could have gotten bad very quickly. He looked down at himself, and poked a finger into his lower abdomen. "Squishy, ay?" He murmured, thinking back to when he was human. Had he been noticeably ‘sguisher’ then? He’d been a bare-knuckle boxer before he’d been turned, so he’d always been in good shape. Not that that sort of thing probably mattered to her-from what he’d seen, she could probably go Kirby on just about anything.

He thought of correcting her from ‘dog’ to ‘wolf’, but he had the feeling that the distinction wouldn’t matter much. Even to him, his fully transformed self looked rather more like a thin husky than a terrifying monster of the night. Dog, indeed. "Well thanks, cher, for that kind little word." he said, but he was smiling slightly, and any objection was colored by amusement at this whole situation. "I thought about that whole thing, the vegetarian thing, but it turns out I’m a carnivore. Though I’ve always preferred cow." And on the topic of food: "A diner’d be great. I’m starving, and we can get to know one another a little more." He let out a little chuckle. "Well, I’ll do my best."

[prettypumfrett]

Anni seemed almost, what was the word, flattered? that Mr James wanted to 'get to know each other'. Usually, detectives didn't befriend a victim's next of kin, so Anni thought perhaps they would bond over the fact that they were both daemons. She felt very calm and almost floaty, since she always felt that way after morphing. The energy exerted was enough to knock out an elephant. 

The woman slowly turned to adjust her hair in the foyer mirror, re-pinning stray hairs. She told Mr James she'd only be a minute, then hurried into her bedroom. Anni pulled open her closet doors and changed out of her slightly damp clothes. Her body temperature was always raised too high after a morph, and so to react, her body sweat like mad. Anni changed into a Chanel blouse and pleated skirt, and adorned simple heels. Hopefully it wasn't too flashy for a diner, but then again -- anyone who knew her, knew that she didn't downgrade her closet for an outing as simple as a diner date.

Was it a date? Fuck. It wasn't, it couldn't be, right? It was just someone trying to find her friend, and a man that claimed he could help. They would just talk over fries and ketchup and conversation would only be about Christa and where she could be. Right? There would be no laughter or smirking or awkward glances or...anything of that nature.

Anni would just consider Mr James as a client, one who she would deal with for the next few days until Christa was found. Only thing different was that she would not be getting paid. Which was fine, since Christa's safety would be the end reward. 

Anni swallowed, spritzed herself with a very light, floral-scented perfume, and left her bedroom. "So, are ya ready, Mister James? I know a cute diner a way's from here, and they've got the best pancakes on earth. I hear the bacon's real good, too." She felt a little bit dreamy, sleep wanting to take over. But she stood tall and graceful as ever, unwavering. 

[jimjamesjr-blog]

Jim’s eyes narrowed minutely, his expression somewhere between ‘deadpan’ and ‘nearly pissed off’. "Hilarious." He remarked dryly, then sighed and stretched slightly. “Well, at the very least you’ve admitted in some round-about and entirely backhanded – perhaps even unintentional – manner that I’m not all bad, which is a start.” He fished back into his pocket for his pack of gum, only to find that he’d used the last piece in his mockery of her, and then wondered vaguely if she’d track down and murder him whenever she found the butt and gum wrapper in her vase. He was leaning towards a very strong maybe.

His eyes followed her as she stood, though he remained seated on her couch. No need to appear to follow her around wherever she went. He watched with a distant professionalism as she got defensive. So then she was an escort, or something of that nature. "I don’t need to imply anything," he said. And he didn’t. Though even a human detective with a basic understanding of microexpressions could have solved this one in a heartbeat, all Jim had to do was inhale. Moods gave off scents, and the air was thick with Anni’s.

He pulled his hand back from his pocket and raised both in front of him, palms forwards. "Now don’t get angry with me, Anni, the reason I’m here and not the officer is because unlike him, I’m good at my job. You lyin’ to me in no way means I’m not going to find out the truth – it only weakens my trust in you.” He crossed his legs, ankle to knee. "And I–” he said pointedly. "–do trust you." He gave a moment of pause. "At least a little." Jim finished, and then smiled.

He shrugged when she said he shouldn’t anger her. Whatever she was, there wasn’t much of a chance that she’d end up being a threat to him. So long as she wasn’t made entirely of metal or mistletoe, he’d probably be fine. He couldn’t know for sure, seeing as how he’d never encountered anything that smelled quite like her, but he’d lasted through enough fights and even a war or two to know that he was a lot harder to kill than the average bloke of his weight class. Though, what with the way her eyes kept narrowing at him, and the way her thin frame seemed even taller (she already had a few inches on him) and more intimidating, he might not escape from a fight with her unscathed.

His thoughts were drawn away from guessing her genus to repeating in his head "oh mother of god, holy fucking SHIT what IS that?!” in response to her genus – or at least, what he could see of it. His body instantly went into fight or flight mode, and for a moment he knew he considered killing her – but that wasn’t him anymore, and in any case, he wasn’t angry enough. Just shocked and a little bit scared. So he did his best to back off; he curled up onto the couch, bringing his feet in to his chest, tucking his chin to his knees, and making himself as small as was possible. Make a smaller target, get your (metaphorical, at this point) tale between your legs.

The moment she was out of the room, he uncurled himself and stood, at first to leave. Then he sighed and realised that she could’ve attacked, and she hadn’t. That was enough for him to remain in the house, and wait for her to calm down. He paced back and forth across the floor, and it was only on his third lap of the small space that he realised he had claws instead of nails. With a reluctant sigh, he inspected the rest of his body. His arms were covered in thicker, coarser hair than usual, and he was sure his face was in a similar state. He caught sight of himself in a mirror, eyes yellow and teeth deadly. He needed a cigarette, or a large glass of scotch.

He deliberated for a moment before deciding. "Fuck it," he said under his breath. "she got me worked up, I’m allowed to fix it." He move to the nearest window and flung it open, before he lit a cigarette and took a drag. The nicotine took effect almost instantly, leaving just enough of a calm in his body that his instincts quit reacting. It was like dealing with really aggressive allergies, if he thought about it. His body perceived most things to be enough of a threat that they deserved to be eaten, and cigarettes and alcohol kept his body confused enough that he never had to really think about working to control his biological desire to kill almost everyone.

&&

When he heard the door to the room she’d vanished to open, he was still leaned half out her window, cigarette in hand. He quickly dropped the butt into a vase (a different one than the first), and turned to face her as she entered the room. There was virtually no hope of getting rid of the smell that quickly, though the window certainly had helped to minimize it, so he decided he’d just do his utmost to be candid. He thought over what she’d said for a few seconds before he replied. "I do. I really do. And if she’s anything like you, then I worry about the poor shit who’s in my position right now.” He paused. "I get the feeling they might not be so durable as me."

[prettypumfrett]

Anni felt terrible about her semi-morph. Sometimes it just happened, and if she wasn't prepared for it, then anyone nearby was not, either. He seemed a bit jumpy, though more guilty than anything -- and when the musty scent of cigarette smoke was inhaled, Anni figured out why. Her shoulders dropped slightly, and she brought worried hands up to her forehead.

"We don't like the way other daemons taste. Not enough human hormones. Human males are especially weak, and goodness, are they ever squishy. Your buddies down at the station will be hearing reports of missing men soon enough, which is why I need ya to help me find her." She tugged down her hands, folding her arms. Anni stared at Mr James warily. Was he still freaked about her natural form? She could smell the anxiety in the air past all the cancer fumes...so she kept her distance. Just to be safe for both of them.

Along with the anxiety, there was a very subtle awkwardness. "Look, Mister James, I won't eat you. You smell gross as hell, and I prefer cow over dog, don't chya know. And anyway -- I'm a ve-ge-tarian." The last word was punctuated. She hoped this would placate him enough to calm down. Anni heaved a sigh, blowing loose strands of hair out of her face. "If ya want, we can go to a diner, or something. When taking our leave, I can bring you 'round Christa's place and let you sniff around." At that mention, Anni couldn't help but grin to herself. She disliked shifters, but she had never actually interacted with a dog shifter before. A cat person at heart, though, perhaps she could be persuaded. 

[jimjamesjr-blog]

Jim raised an eyebrow at her, then sat up slightly and crossed his arms across his chest. "Alright, Anni, you’ve made your opinion of me clear enough times for me to say this;" he paused, and gave her a look. "Why the hell did you let me in?" His tone wasn’t accusatory, rather, it was fed-up but curious. He honestly had no idea why she’d even bother letting him past the front step if she found him so repulsive. Then again, she might need his help.

He shrugged when she mentioned her cat, and looked over at the nasty beast. “If you say so,” he said doubtfully. "just don’t hold me responsible if we get into it." He gave the cat a toothy smile, meant to both charm and menace. Jim let out a little huff and scratched the scruff at his chin, listening as she declared herself, and called him out properly. The first time someone (it had been a vampire, if Jim recalls correctly) had noticed that he wasn’t human, he’d been offended.

The girl had claimed he stunk like wet dog, bourbon and Winstons, which to be honest, he had. It wasn’t that he smelled all the time, but since his transformation his sweat-smell had always been more of a dog smell than a human one. If he bathed more regularly, that problem would be lessened, for sure. Thing was, he was the type who just didn’t bother much with his appearance.

That was part of the reason he felt so goddamn uncomfortable sitting on a sofa he was sure was worth more than his rent. He wasn’t one for flash or showing-off. It was one of the many reasons that he lived in the single shittiest apartment in an otherwise-nice building. Not because he couldn’t afford a flat the floor up, but because so long as he had a bed (though he might not much longer if the springs kept falling apart at the rate they were currently) and a fridge, he was fine. This house, this woman, was so different from him it felt almost comical that they were sitting so close on this sofa.

As he listened to her story of her friend, his fingers went to his jacket pocket for his pack of cigarettes, then he remembered where he was. If she got pissy about him smoking on her front step, he imagined she wouldn’t take kindly to him doing it inside her house. That was the other great thing about having the shittiest apartment in the building – no one cared if he smoked two packs a day in there. He leaned back from her slightly as she finished up, resting his back against the side-arms of the couch.

He sighed. "I’m going to need a bit more to go on than just ‘clients’," he said, as he met her gaze. “‘cause that could be law clients or paid hook-ups, and the two things are rather different.” He looked her over, and noted than she had begun to look a bit uncomfortable. He wondered if she was in sex-work. That’d be tricky. Those girls were often more delicate than normal, with more to lose and more problems. He’d known a number of prostitutes, strippers, and call girls, and the factor most of them had in common was something terrible lurking in their past, or terrible working conditions. He’d helped a few get out of their situations. Of course, there were those who loved it and had lovely bosses… but for the most part, he’d seen them treated more cruelly than most. And that, he’d decided a long while ago, was just unacceptable.

In lieu of actually asking her the question, he moved the topic along. "Also, while this–" he tapped his nose. "–is very good, it’s not exactly a bestiary. I’ve got no clue what you, or your friend, are, so for the sake of this investigation it would do you well to just be honest with me. Entirely so." He gave her the most sympathetic and imploring look in his repertoire (the sad puppy-dog look, an old friend had called it), and a small smile. "I get that I’m a stranger – you don’t know me from Eve – but I can help you. You’ve just gotta trust me first.”

[prettypumfrett]

At his prompt of why she let him in, Anni erupted into disoriented giggles. It took a few seconds to calm herself down enough to respond. "Well, Mister James, just 'cause a mud bath is made'a mud, doesn't mean it's bad for your skin!" Anni snuffed her laughter, composing herself. She rose from the floor in a fluid movement (without even using her hands) and paced around the room.

Mr James inquired about the type of clients they had, and Anni suddenly grew very, very defensive. Her face seemed to vibrate and wrestle desperately with itself in order to remain human. She flicked her head to the side, facing the slightly open window. "The clients are wealthy men who hide secrets, though you better not be implying anything else," Anni huffed through gritted teeth. He must have known what sort of field she and Christa worked in, though Anni wondered if he knew how important she was in the business. If he did, Anni was sure he'd try to get something out of her other than a cheque. 

The redhead paced the room while playing with her necklace. She wasn't sure if she could trust him outright, but was not opposed to being warmed up to. Anni licked at her lips, purely coincidental, when Mr James asked what she and Christa 'were.' Her eyes flashed with -- something -- and she flicked her gaze upon the man. "Something you wouldn't like when angered, I assure ya," she hummed with a tiny grin. The anger from his previous question was still boiling her insides. 

And...with the mention of Eve, that's when Anni lost it. Her face was the first to ripple and change; her mouth and nose disappeared, replaced with smooth flesh. Her eyes and sclera were inked black, and grew wide and round. Only the lower half of her body remained completely human, as she soon realised what in Lilith's name she had done. The rock-like mass that had begun to consume her upper body seemed to slither back underneath her human skin. It looked like rock, but acted as if oil. While still very frightening, a voice emanated from within her, despite having no visible mouth.

"DO NOT SPEAK OF THE SECOND WIFE UNDER THIS ROOF, DOG," it rang. The voice left a foul scent in the air, which smelled differently to everyone. Anni's bare chest heaved with silent breaths. The skin of her natural form finally receded fully and she returned to her human self. 

The second Anni was fully human again, she tore away from the room, defiant and almost ashamed, and was heard pounding down the hall. A door slammed shut, and her cat mewled pathetically after her. Something was swiped off a surface and onto the floor as it crashed loudly. She swore and kicked something else.

&&

It was at least ten minutes before Anni had calmed the fuck down. She returned to the living room, looking far more guilty than Mr James deserved. "Sorry about that, Mister James. I just really don't like it when she's mentioned. To us, she doesn't hold a good place in our hearts." Anni was still guilty for perhaps scaring the man, and hoped he would forgive her and (hopefully) help her find Christa. "I think now ya know why I need to find Christa, eh?" She tried to chuckle, but it came out weak.

[prettypumfrett]

like a rat in a maze, other hands guide the that path you take. what you find in the end is determined by those hands — and whether it is death or naïve satisfaction, it is always a trap.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

He followed behind her, leaving a berth of a few feet for politeness… and out of concern for his own safety. Whatever she was, he was fairly sure that it wasn’t the harmless kind. As she rearranged the pillows, he took the opportunity to drop his wadded up cigarette butt in a vase of flowers, his own petty revenge. He stood still and stared at the couch for a moment. It was pristine, nothing like the comfortable but sagging mess of corduroy he called a loveseat.

His eyes ran over the corners and surfaces of the house. "Do you actually live here, or am I being given the tour of a staged house?" He asked, though he said it more to himself than to Anni. Jim was unused to such finery, but more than that, he didn’t see the point of it. As long as you were comfortable, what the hell was the point of a million knickknacks and pillows and the like?

With a sigh, he readjusted his trousers and took his seat on the couch. It was too firm for his liking, but then again, what he was used to was at least nine years old and far worse than second-hand. The whole place was like some grand illusion, some glitter. It didn’t feel like substance to him. "Frosting, no cupcake." he muttered under his breath, and then looked over at Anni.

When she mentioned the eating thing he sighed. Well, if he could smell her she’d sure as hell be able to smell him. “Not a carnivore, then?” He said, and gave her his very best wolfish grin. “Pity. This city’s got some great steak places. This one place on 5th makes ‘em so rare – but that’s not why I’m here.” He paused. “And if we were to talk food, I’m sure you’d come out on top for ‘rare’ meat.” He let his posture slide from bad to abominable and sprawled across his spot on the couch. Even now, something in his basic genetic makeup was telling him to seem big, appear larger than normal. He was sensing a threat.

Jim looked over to see a cat entering, his posture lazier than ever as he craned his neck. Of course she had a cat. "Ah," he began. "you might want to… um, move your cat. They’re not really fond of me.” Not fond. That was a gross understatement. The damn things hated him. Well, most animals hated or feared him (with the exception of dogs), but cats were the worst. They all seemed intent on destroying him with their horrid needle-claws, and he wasn’t in the mood to lose his shirt to an ill-tempered feline.

[prettypumfrett]

The question of whether she actually lived here made Anni squirm uncomfortably. "Just because my home is nicer than the kennel you sleep in, doesn't give you the right to insult it!" If she were a bird, her plumage would be expelled all around her in an attempt to hide the fact she was hurt. Anni touched her necklace, playing with it absentmindedly. 

He remarked about her appetite, and Anni tried not to roll her eyes. "I haven't hurt anyone since the 80s," she muttered, mostly to herself. Though, with senses like a shifter, Anni was sure he had heard. Her gaze oozed back onto Mr James. He complained about Cine, and she couldn't help but stifle a chuckle. 

"Scared'a felines, Mister James? She won't hurt ya, really. Well, I guess if you get too close..." Anni shook her head, dismissing the idea. "Nah, she won't do any harm. She's just old." The cat kept her distance, the growl still vibrating in her throat.

But they were side-tracked. Anni cleared her throat. Her posture straightened out, and she stared at Mr James intensely. "So, since we both know neither'f us are human, which, by the way, is more or less a good thing, lemme tell you about Christa."

Anni rose from the sofa, her hands wringing nervously. "Christa, she...she's like us, or -- like me, yah? I'm not worried for her safety, really, though I figure she's gotten herself inta some kinda trouble." Anni turned to look back at the man. "I'm worried 'bout the safety'a others. Humans. When she gets like this...it's bad news, Mister James. It's bad news."

Fettuccine inched closer to Anni, her tail slowly thinning out once more. She hesitated before rubbing her head against Anni's leg. The woman sat down, cross-legged, and began to pet the creature. Her gaze floated off into nothing. "'N there's something else you should know, Mister James -- " Her stare was icy and dead when she snapped it onto the man. "There've been some weird things happening lately. To me 'n her. I won't disclose what we do, but in our profession...there have been some strange clients in the past few months." She looked away, almost embarrassed.

Anni wasn't embarrassed, though. She was more grossed out by the fact she was near to telling this sly man she had sex and got paid for it. Who knows what he would try? Or assume. Men were always the quickest to assume that because she was a sex worker, that she would be open and willing to give them a free lap dance just because they asked. Anni visibly shuddered. 

[jimjamesjr-blog]

His eyes widened a bit in surprise at her harsh greeting, then narrowed. He crouched to pick up the cigarette butt and stood back up, deliberately holding her gaze the whole time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick of gum, unwrapped and popped it in his mouth, before wrapping the metallic paper around the cigarette butt and sticking the whole thing in his pocket.

He chewed the gum deliberately for a moment then swallowed it, still staring her down. "It cleans up alright, though." He said, flicking his gaze to the doorstep. "Like property, like owner." Jim thought about winking, but decided that would be pushing her a little too far – at least today.

He let out a sigh, and as he inhaled he caught scent of something under the smoke and perfume that was lingering in the air between them. It was an oddly acidic sort of smell, though not wholly unpleasant. Like brimstone and grapefruit. There was none of the soft human warmth about her smell (nor about her person, he thought to himself).

Her accent was adorable, though even that was marred by her tone and words. Not that he was hurt. Jim’d been called far worse, in far worse situations. "Look, Anni, I’m here on business." He replied. "And I’m looking at a woman in need of assistance." He raised an eyebrow and gave her a look. "The assistee isn’t really the one allowed to do the complaining.” Despite his new opinions of her, he followed her into her house, hoping that whatever she was, she wouldn’t try to devour him right off the bat. He wasn’t in the mood to get into a fight today – or at least, not a physical one.

[prettypumfrett]

Anni spun on her heel and padded towards her sofa. It was small and clean, with too many decorative pillows to really look inviting. Anni flung them off of the cushions and onto the floor to make room. She slunk into the sofa, arms still crossed. An involuntary pout tugged at her plump lips. She really didn't want to be talking to someone as unrefined as Mr James, but if he was able to find Christa, then...

When the scent of outside and cigarette smoke was replaced by the sickly sweet scent of her home (thanks to the numerous bowls of potpourri and freshly cut flowers), Anni was able to distinguish the difference between the familiar smell of her dwelling and Mr James'. He was definitely not human, and definitely a shifter of some sort. The way he looked and smelled, Anni could only assume he was a breed of werewolf. 

Seriously disgusting.

Anni bounced one knee against the other; what would she even tell him? She was not terribly concerned with Christa's well being, but more so the well being of others. If she was in a state, then who knows how many men would turn up dead around the country? She had already been gone six days now, and that was more than enough time to eat a few stag parties worth of men. Anni swallowed, her throat tight with the threat of tears. She blinked, shook her head as if to clear it of emotion, and stared down at Mr James.

A few uncomfortable, silent seconds trickled by, and Anni finally voiced what she only figured both were thinking. "I'm not gonna eat'chya, if that's what you're afraid of, Mister. I'm a vegetarian." The tone of her voice was sincere. She was not being completely honest, but she didn't want to outright assume he was...a dog. 

Right on cue, Fettuccine slunk out of the kitchen, tail straight up in the air. The tiny, short-haired feline crept closer, but kept her distance. A deep, guttural growl boiled in her belly. "Cine, please -- not now," Anni groaned, her shoulders slumping slightly.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

As it turned out, the artsy side of the downtown had a few cafes that allowed smoking on their patio, and as luck would have it, the one that Jim picked had really good food. He sat in his own private fog of smoke and thoughts, working his way through the rest of his pack of Winstons. He wondered if Anni was going to be one of the type to get overly fussy about a bit of a cigarette smell, then shrugged and decided he would’ve smelt anyways. He’d never had stellar hygiene.

&&

Jim felt entirely out of place, standing out front of a row of the most elegant townhouses he’d ever seen. "Well," he said, and let out a breath. "she’s certainly not lacking in panache." He lit a cigarette and knocked on her door, wondering just what she would turn out to be. He expected someone young-ish – twenties or thirties – with a sort of rumpled and torn look about them. Whenever he’d dealt with the family and friends of missing persons they always had the same sort of lost look to them, as if it were them and not their loved one who had gone missing.

The door remained closed, and he leaned forwards and knocked again. With a sigh (and a long exhale of breath and smoke that left him looking dragon-esque) he brought his cigarette to his mouth again and took a long pull at it, just as the door was pulled open. His eyes widened in shock; she was so perfectly put together it didn’t seem likely she’d ever been worried, but her eyes did betray her. He extended his free hand to her. "We spoke on the phone, earlier." he said. "Nice to properly meet you." He dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out under the toe of his shoe.

[prettypumfrett]

Anni yanked open the front door, instantly hit in the face with the strong scent of cigarette smoke. She waved a hand before her nose, trying to rid the air of its heavy, cancerous weight. With a quick look-over, Anni noted that this man -- this Mr James -- was certainly not the average journalist. He was not very average at all. And with the cigarette smoke slightly dissipating...he was not even average in species.

As he dropped the cigarette butt onto her porch and snuffed it with his shoe, Anni's eyes widened to an almost freakish circumference. The split second thought of him not being human had been snuffed out itself, replaced with the intense annoyance of him disposing of his damned cancer stick on her front porch.

The young woman watched, in astonishment, at the hand he offered. She lightly smacked it away from her person, taking a strong step back. "Nice, indeed!" was exclaimed sarcastically. "Must you dispose of your crap on my doorstep? Bit rude, don't chya know!" Anni huffed, her arms now folded sternly.

After a few seconds of staring the man down, Anni came to realise he was undoubtedly...a mutt. At least, of some kind. "Yeugh, ya couldn't've had a shower before showing up?" Anni glanced left and right down her street (very obviously disgusted and ashamed), then jerked her head in an indication to hurry inside.

[prettypumfrett]

      PRETTY IN PINK, PEARLS, AND LACE

Anni filed the man's name away in her person archive, ready to pull it out when he arrived at her door. Mr James told her, then, that he was a journalist. Great. He wasn't even an investigator! Just some chump with a pen and paper chasing after rumours and 'last seen with's. Anni was looking forward to having Christa found, not written about. She sighed, bidding him farewell. 

&&

As soon as the phone was placed back in its cradle, Anni shot up out of the armchair and rushed into her bedroom. She had to shower away the evening's stench, clean her face, brush her teeth, and style her hair. Makeup came after choosing a casual-yet-sultry outfit that would make the man want to help her find Christa. Anni knew what she'd wear, and how her makeup would be applied, but she had approximately less than an hour. She had to do the best she could, given her time frame.

Anni dried and tousled her hair into a messy bun atop her head. As for outfit, she decided on soft colours and softer fabrics. When she was finally done applying a strong stroke of charcoal eyeliner, Anni heard a knock at the door. Shit! she hissed through her teeth.

With an ease of grace only acquired after several years of practice, Anni made it to the front door of her flat. With a quick, faltering breath, the young woman unlocked and opened the door.

[jimjamesjr-blog]

Jim leaned in the chair to peer out at Palmer, who had settled for glaring in at him from the desk across the hallway. "Well, I’ll give it a try, Anni." He said, trying to think over what he’d say to the officer. "Gimme a sec…" He set the phone down and pulled the office door open. Palmer gave him an unimpressed glare, and Jim sighed. "Look, there’s a distraught woman on the phone with a problem, and as fun as this little safety Q and A has been, I’d rather be helping her.”

Palmer looked as though he might argue, but then the tension and fight went out of his shoulders and he exhaled. "If it’ll get her out of my hair, then go ahead." He said. Jim took down the address and returned to the phone, at which point Palmer rolled his eyes and wandered off, mutter about an ‘early lunch break’. “Righty, then.” He began when he’d picked the phone back up. "I’ve got your address off of Palmer, so I’ll be over within the half-hour." He picked a fingernail, and grabbed his jacked off the back of the chair he’d been sitting on. "Good with you, cher?"

He looked down at the address scrawled on the paper in his hand. It sounded like it’d be in the nice part of town – about as far away from my apartment as you can get, he thought – which really wasn’t all that far away from the police station. He was glad he’d agreed to come by, otherwise he might’ve missed out on something of actual interest. 

[prettypumfrett]

Anni thumped her heel into the plush carpet as she waited. Whoever this guy was, he seemed all too eager to help find Christa. Though it was unnerving to say the least, someone was finally going to try and find her friend. When the man came back on the phone and told her he had snagged her address, a sigh rushed out of her again.

He informed her he would arrive in under half an hour, which was not nearly enough time for her to get dressed and primped. She pulled an anxious face, her breathing becoming a bit erratic. "C -- could ya come by in maybe an hour or so?" Anni asked, her accent slipping through stronger than it should have. She bit her lip, not wanting to tell him the reason why if he should ask.

Anni felt silly to want to pretty herself up for this -- really, only a voice -- man. He sounded too posh and almost too Southern? for her to greet him in sweats and a mascara'd mess of a face. Anni was not bred in a cave, and she was definitely not some wibbling poverty case. She was going to dress up in order to be taken seriously. Well, as seriously as she could be taken seeing as how she was...Anni.

The young woman didn't really wait much longer to hear a response before telling him: "Well, you come 'round later, rather than sooner, 'n I'll be here. And, sorry, what was your name again?"

[jimjamesjr-blog]

Jim chuckled at her little squeak. It was a tiny noise, the kind he usually imagined only belonging to small children or teenage girls in the presence of boys they fancy. "Naw, he’s here." He leaned to peer through the glass in the door, to see the officer – Palmer was his name, he remembered – conversing tersely with someone else, most likely about him. Jim let out a little puff of breath as the girl went on, before he replied.

"Just makin’ a joke, Ma’am, my apologies. I’m going to be playin’ cop for longer than that." He looked back over at Palmer. "Well, I hope so." He bit his lip to hold back another laugh, but it slipped out anyways. "Sorry, I’m not laughing at your situation – while must be dire, for you to be phoning here so often – just the idea that your Mister Palmer has any more clue about your friend than you or I." He paused, sucking on the inside of his cheek for a moment while he watched Palmer bumble through a conversation that was – yes, he could tell now – definitely about him.

Jim had never really stayed still, so all sorts of bits and pieces from various accents clung to him like heated cellophane. There was the twang and humour of the south, the peculiar words and phrases of the north, and the generally flat tone and cadence of his homestate, California. As a result, he rarely managed to sound anything beyond impetuous, amused, or irritated.

He smiled when he heard another small squeak, but had gotten used to the sound by this point, and merely replied to her question: “Yes, that I did. If I can get your address and name, we can start this sooner rather than later. Which I assume you’d find quite preferable.” He leaned back in Palmer’s desk chair and exhaled; it had turned into a good day after all. 

[prettypumfrett]

His laugh was all too patronizing, and Anni didn't feel right about it. She imagined the owner of the voice to wear drab articles of expensive lines, nothing too flashy except to those who knew the designer. Anni really didn't like those types, man or woman. They were too sure of themselves, and it made her feel terribly uneasy. Being rather confident (or, overly confident, really—) herself, Anni always felt threatened somehow when in the same room as someone on her level of arrogance.

The man did ask for her name and address, which Anni was very hesitant to give. He had offered to help, yes, but at what cost? If he wasn't actually a police officer, or a proper investigator, then what would he charge? Miss Pumfrett would not pay a private eye to find Christa, no matter what the chances were. 

The redhead's eyes narrowed, which blurred her vision incredibly. Her thick eyelashes heavy with tears masked her surroundings. She rubbed at her eyes, not caring where the old makeup would end up. With a breath caught in her lungs, Anni sniffed. "A -- Anni. My name's Anni, Anni Pumfrett. You can ask Mark for my address, and if he won't give it to ya, then I'll just come 'round to the station." Her voice was still shaky, though considerably less than it had been when she picked up the phone.

Anni slumped into her favourite armchair and heaved out the sigh she'd been holding. In all honesty, Anni didn't even know what day it was -- hopefully it wasn't Thursday. If it was, she'd be fucked. And also out of seven grand. She pinched the bridge of her nose while waiting for a response.

[eccentricmusic]

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