Fear is a wolf who dreads himself.

Cyrus sighed softly. He tapped at the door and then tried the knob. It was still locked. “Come on, Remy,” he called through the wood. “Let me in?”

“Still locked in there?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Cyrus saw Tiana. He nodded. “He’s afraid what he might do,” he said, shrugging. He tapped at the door again. “Remy?”

As Tiana headed off down the corridor, the door opened a crack. It was just enough for Cyrus to see Logan’s face. He looked pale and sickly. His eyes were blood-shot and puffy. “Go’way,” he growled.

As he started to shut the door, Cyrus mumbled a spell. The door pushed inward, forcing Logan back. As it did, Cyrus stepped over the threshold. Then, he shut the door. The room looked a wreck, like a wild animal had all-but destroyed it. In a way, it had.

“Feeling any better?” Cyrus asked, as he began tidying.

Logan shook his head and sat down on the bed. “I’m tired,” he said. He drew his knees up to his chest and watched as Cyrus continued to clean the mess around him. “You don’t have to…” he trailed off when Cyrus looked at him.

“I’m a janitor,” Cyrus said.

“Caretaker,” Logan corrected.

Cyrus shrugged. Titles mattered little to him. “It’s my job to clean and I care about you. You’re too tired to clean, so let me. I don’t mind.”

Logan sighed and flopped back against the mattress. “Might change again tonight,” he said, his voice soft and filled with dread. “If you’re here, I might hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Cyrus said, his own voice filled with confidence. He smiled at Logan. “You know my scent, Remy. You might not remember how it is once you’ve changed, but I’ve seen you. You attack anyone who corners you, but you’ve yet to even raise your hackles at me.”

“R-really?” Logan said, tilting his head.

Nodding, Cyrus said, “You don’t even growl at me. You nuzzle up against me, like a great brown dog.” He smiled faintly and add, “Keenan says he’s never seen the like.”

Logan sighed. “I hate this affliction – I dread the full moon and there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t remember what I do once I’ve changed.”

Cyrus nodded slightly. He settled down on the bed beside Logan and rubbed his shoulder gently. “I won’t let you do anything you’ll regret, Remy. I promise.”

How I Hate That Word

Prompt: maybe is a vicious little word

Keenan shot a glare at Haruko. It burned him that the man had to be party to this discussion. It angered him that the man doubted members of the intelligence teams. The idea that any of them might be behind the murder of their own director was, to Keenan’s mind, inconceivable.

“Do we even have a motive?” he said, looking over at Tiana and the other members of her team. He arched an eyebrow. “Can we say definitively who was behind the murder?”

“Maybe,” Tiana said. She sighed and shook her head. “We’re still running down some leads.”

“Maybe,” Keenan said. His brows furrowed. “I hate that word. It’s nearly as bad to say maybe as it is to say ‘if only’.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “So… you can’t say anything for certain, is that it?”

“Not yet,” Tiana said, shaking her head again.

Kill the lead

Prompt: true as autopsies on tape

Ezra sat in the chair, staring at his reflection. Logan, on the other side of the one-way glass, stared back at him. When the door opened behind him, he didn’t look up. He knew who it was. “What did they determine?”

“Director Urban was killed at approximately ten o’clock last evening,” Tiana said, stepping up beside him. “You’ve got witnesses corroborating his alibi?”

“The butler saw Sweetin leave at nine o’clock and never saw him return,” Logan said. His brows furrowed. “A witness saw him in the park at just after ten.” He pulled his gaze away and added, “She was walking her dog, which barked at Sweetin’s cat. They had a brief conversation about the meteor shower, which he was painting.”

“That would seem to indicate he was telling the truth,” Tiana said, looking through the glass the man who had, until that moment, been their only suspect.

Nodding, Logan said, “No reason for the coroner to lie, so… yeah, he’s as good as his word.” He didn’t move, as Tiana headed into the interrogation room to tell Ezra the news. He was free to go and they were left without a single lead on the murder of one of the Agency’s directors.


Prompt: light to your lips like daffodils

Logan frowned slightly, as he looked at his reflection in the pool. He couldn’t help but wonder why Cyrus put up with him. It certainly wasn’t for his looks. He was gangly. His hair was perpetually messy and his nose was too large.

By comparison, Cyrus was handsome. His features were soft and even. His hair fell around his face in waves. His eyes were a warm dark gray, like storm clouds. He glanced over at Cyrus and a faint smile touched his lips. Whatever his reason, Logan was grateful.

“Remy?” Cyrus said, tilting his head to one side. He grinned. “Keep staring at yourself and you’ll turn into a flower, right? Like that story?”

“Narcissus?” Logan said, chuckling softly. “He was so taken with his own beauty that he fell in love with his own reflection. I don’t think there’s much danger of that with me.”

Cyrus frowned faintly. “Beauty… I think real beauty comes from the inside, Remy,” he said, his voice soft. “There, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

A Way To Forget

Prompt: skin has gotten thicker but it burns the same

Logan sighed softly as he eased into the warm water. The moon was very nearly full. Tomorrow night – tomorrow night the change would come over him. He hated it. Not that begin a wolf was so horrible.

Far from it, in fact. He was not the most handsome of men, but he was a beautiful wolf. His fur was soft and thick, sleek and black. He was large and muscular. He loved the feel of the wind in his fur and the sense of running free in the forest.

However, the change itself was painful. He also lost himself in the sensations of being a wild animal and forgot what it was like to be man for those three days. There was more though.

Logan looked at the scars that crossed his arms and chest. The long gashes and deep impressions had been left by the werewolf’s claws and teeth. They were partially healed, but he knew they’d never truly fade. They still burned and ached when the full moon drew near.

He heard a footstep in the hall and looked up. “That you, Cy?” he called.

Cyrus peered into the bath, a faint smile on his lips. “All right, Remy?” he said, sounding concerned.

Logan nodded. “They just… hurt. Schuyler says it’s some kind of muscle memory,” he said. He closed his eyes. “The bath helps cool them a bit.” He stopped short of saying that there was nothing to really make the pain go away.

He felt Cyrus slip into the water and opened his eyes. A faint smile touched his lips. His scars might still ache and burn, but Cyrus had a way of making him forget the pain and fear that came with his transformations.


Prompt: we outgrow love like other things

Logan tensed when Cyrus stepped across the room to where he was lying. “Merry Christmas, Remy,” he said, his voice soft.

Tears welled briefly in Logan’s eyes. “What’s merry about it, exactly?” he said. He shot Cyrus a glare. Why couldn’t the man just leave him alone? Couldn’t he tell when he wasn’t wanted?

Cyrus stared at him, not saying a word. He didn’t look away either and, for some reason, that angered Logan even more. “Remy…” he started, stopping when Logan looked away. “Are you angry at me?”

“Dammit, Cy,” Logan breathed. He shook his head. “Can’t you tell it’s over b’tween us? What do I have to do to make you leave?” He tensed when he felt a hand settle on his shoulder, but he didn’t pull away.

“It’s not over,” Cyrus whispered. “What’s merry about this Christmas? How about this: you’re alive, Remy! Yes, there will be difficulties ahead and we’ll have to make adjustments, but you are alive!”

Logan choked back a sob and then Cyrus was hugging him gently. “Not sure I can live like this,” Logan murmured.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Cyrus replied. “Yell and push all you want, Remy. I’m not going anywhere. We both know I’m far too stubborn to do as I’m told.”

You must remember this

Prompt: given the scalpel, they dissect a kiss

Logan wondered if they knew how it made him feel to know that they stared. Normally, the sort of relationship he had with Cyrus was accepted in their society. He was well traveled enough to know that wasn’t always the case. However, his condition made onlookers immediately suspicious of the otherwise innocent gesture.

As Logan broke the kiss and pushed Cyrus out to arms-length, he frowned. In that moment, Cyrus’s gaze switched from joy to concern. “What’s wrong?” they said at the same time.

“You were frowning,” Cyrus said, answering Logan.

Logan grimaced. “They were staring,” he murmured. “It just… what does it matter, that I have lycanthropy? It’s not a full moon – it’s not even night!”

Cyrus laughed and leaned in to kiss him again, a quick peck this time. “Let them stare,” he said. “They might learn something about love.” He winked and caught Logan by the hand. “Come on, Remy. We’re supposed to be meeting Tia.”


Prompt: I know enough of hate

Logan was grumbling as he came into the room, but stopped when Cyrus caught his eye. “The Underground,” he said. He let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “They are so infuriating!”

Cyrus nodded. “One wonders what could possibly motivate them,” he said, tilting his head slightly.

“Hate,” Logan said. There was no uncertainty in his tone. “It might not be so of all of them, but the ones in power are motivated by a hatred of the established authority. They think they could do better.”

Blinking, Cyrus said, “You seem pretty sure of yourself.” Then, he looked chagrined and added, “Then again, I suppose you’d know a lot about hate.”

It was tough to say whether Cyrus meant that people hated Logan or that Logan hated himself. Either way, Logan nodded. “I’m familiar with hate,” he said.

Waxing Moon

Prompt: and I am sick of time

Logan stared up at the night sky and sighed. The moon was nearly full. In just a few more nights, it would be bright and round among the scattered stars.

“All right, Remy?”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Cyrus bounce into the room. A faint smile touched his lips. He was lucky to have Cyrus in his life. Not many people would have stuck by him after what happened.

Sighing, Logan shrugged. “Moon’s near full,” he said, looking back up at the waxing gibbous that hung in the sky. “I wish… I could just freeze things the way they are now.”

“It’ll be all right, Remy,” Cyrus said, taking his hand and looping it around his waist. He rested his head on Logan’s chest. “We’ll be all right.”

There, in that moment, Logan let himself believe Cyrus. It might not be true, but it made him feel better and that was all he cared about.


Logan stared after the departing artist. He’d seen the young man before somewhere, but couldn’t figure out the particulars. Shaking the thought away, he turned around. Cyrus was probably looking for him.

Then, he stopped. “Keller?”

“The crime boss?” Keenan said, tilting his head to one side and staring at Logan. He shook his head. “What about him? You think he had something to do with what happened to Sarah?”

“No,” Logan said. “That young man… I think he works for Keller.”

Keenan’s brows furrowed. “We’ll keep an eye on him, then,” he said, his voice soft. “Who knows, but he might come in handy someday.”

“How would a thief ever be useful to the Agency?” Logan said, shaking his head.

Chuckling, Keenan shrugged. “Sometimes, Logan, it takes a fox to catch a fox.”