by Llwyden ferch Gyfrinach

art by attempt_unique

The screams echoed in his ears. Gabriel whimpered and raised hands to block them out, but they continued inside his head. The voices of all those he had failed or would fail to save — Malia, Crash, others he couldn't name; victims past and future that the Schattenjäger was supposed to protect.

In the darkness, hands reached out for him and he ran, frantic to put as much distance between them and him as he could. Their grip, refused to loosen, but he wrenched himself free with a dizzying lurch and ran faster.

Looking down, he watched the ground fly by beneath his feet — paws — the sight inspiring both relief and horror and, overwhelming all else, unreasoning terror, a heart—pounding fear. But run fast as he could, he could not get away from himself…

"Gabriel."

The voice meant nothing to him, but a hand now clutched at him again. He had to get away! He —

"Gabriel!"

He moved to shake the grip, surging forward —

Looking into Grace's startled face as she leaned over him where he lay. A dream, he registered dimly. It was only a dream. Again.

Gabriel blinked blearily up at his assistant, who gazed back at him worriedly. Never knew you cared, Gracie. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they weren't really fair, and he was too tired to fence right now. He swallowed before speaking, but his voice still came out hoarse. "Sorry." Knowing it was probably futile, he crooked a grin at her. "Hey, I'm gettin' lots of great ideas for my next book — the fans'll love it." She still frowned in worry, but he didn't feel much like being mothered right now, and reached for something to divert her attention. "Is it time for the test yet?"

"Almost," she answered quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "They're still setting up the chandeliers; I'll let you know when we're ready. How are you doing?"

He'd have glared at her if he'd had the energy. How did she expect him to be doing? He was turning into a werewolf, for Christ's sake! He shivered in fear and chill. Nothing to do about the one, but, "It's cold. So cold in here, Gracie."

She hesitated a moment before removing the coat he only just registered she'd been wearing. "Here." She laid it over him, tucking it and the blanket around his sides. "I'll try and get them to turn up the furnace." She rested one hand on his chest, almost as if praying. "You rest now. I'll let you know when it's time for the test."

He felt like arguing, telling her that he'd done little but rest for the last two months, but what little of his strength the change wasn't eating up, the trip from Rittersberg to Munich had stolen. And he'd need to save what he could for tonight, if he were to be human again.

It wasn't the resting he objected to, anyway — it was the dreams. They faded with waking, but impressions were left to him — truths that he should have guessed, dark futures that beckoned him, past histories that haunted him. But despite his reluctance, he found himself drifting off again immediately; he was asleep before the door closed behind Grace.

He dreamed of doves, and snakes, and blood; of fire and of knives. The old dream, the one from childhood on, changed in a way he couldn't grasp. Somewhere within himself, he knew these were dreams, yet he was powerless to escape them. They harried him, teasing at the edges of his mind; somehow, they meant something, if only he could remember what… But it was like having a word on the tip of his tongue; the harder he reached for it, the further it retreated, until finally he woke once more, frustrated and no better rested than when he had gone to sleep.

He shifted beneath the blanket and Grace's coat, pulling them higher in a futile attempt to get warm once more. Lying partially on top of the overcoat, he grunted in discomfort as something unyielding and lumpy dug its way into his hip. Squirming about, he reached into Grace's pocket to remove whatever she had left there.

It turned out to be a large envelope, and Gabriel had moved to drop it on the floor when he noticed it was addressed to him. What's this? She forget to send this from Louisiana? Girl really needs to clean out her pockets more often. Reaching into the open flap at the same time he looked over the address, his hand froze as the words before him and the item he grasped coalesced into frantic knowledge. This is from Friedrich. He returned the talisman!

The talisman of the Ritters, of the Schattenjägers' power — Gabriel had driven back the wolf that was von Zell with it, and lost it in the woods after. He'd been in too much pain to think to collect it at the time — but Friedrich had. And he'd returned it! He'd known what it was, he had to. It had been created long ago to fight the creatures of the shadows, the werewolves and witches and whatever the hell else there was out there. Why would he send it back?

Drawing the talisman out reverently, he allowed himself some relief at the fact that it did not burn him or push him away — it seemed that whatever was happening to him, he was still not too far gone to be accepted. Friedrich touched it, when he came to my bedroom that night, he suddenly remembered. It never burned him, either; why? He raised his head just enough to put the chain back around his neck, where it belonged, feeling somehow stronger and better just for having the talisman back.

Searching for an explanation, sure that a man such as Friedrich von Glower would do nothing without a reason, he reached back into the envelope to find the letter that he knew must be there. It was several pages long, and as he read it he could all but hear the Baron's quiet, intense voice, as if reading it to him.

Gabriel,

I know you are very ill right now. The Change is always painful. I went through it myself when I was only twelve, and I did not even know what was happening to me. I'm sorry I am not there to help you, but I have a pretty clear sense that you would not welcome my presence. You are safe in Rittersberg. For now, that is enough. Let me speak then, of the future.

You hate me now. I know this. But I have some hope that by the pass of the second moon, when the sickness wanes and the blood has inflamed the greater part of you, you will see things differently. You will need me then and, I think, you will want me then.

It is for hope of this that I did not have you destroyed the night you were bitten by von Zell. I could have done. You were passed out for hours at the lodge. It would have been a simple thing to wake the men, show them von Zell's corpse, and make up a story that would enrage them enough to kill you. I did not. Let that be proof of my true desire for friendship with you.

I have desired companionship for more years than you have lived. I have even, very rarely, taken the risk and Changed others. But the Blood was always too much for the brain, and my Chosen One ended up dead. Or mad.

This is why I started the hunt club. It was my idea that if I could first indoctrinate men's minds to the religion of tooth and claw, that they might be prepared for the Change.

As you have seen, it did not work. Von Zell was the best of the lot. If he had turned out well, I would have taken the others, but there's no point in even trying with them now.

But you are different. You're a Ritter. Your blood is already supernatural. Yes, I know of your family. I have studied much over these long years. When we met, I felt somehow that you would not be destroyed by the Gift. You have an enormous streak of the beast in you and you are innately strong in the Occult. You will be powerful and beautiful in the Change, I am sure of it. I did not intend for it to happen so soon and in such a way, but perhaps fate has its own reason.

But how confused you must be. You may feel I used you to dispose of von Zell. I did. He had to be taken care of and you obligingly showed up. What was I to do? I am too old not to have learned at least this much about the light — you cannot shut it out. Better to let it in and let it simply dim to adjust to the relative brightness inside.

Think well on these things as your body adjusts. Think about meeting me in Munich in two months' time. We can leave Germany if you wish and go anywhere you like. I will teach you how to hunt, how to live safe and well. You can feel the night wind on your face, taste the heartbeat of the kill beneath your jaws. It is glorious — much more so than the priestly life the Schattenjäger offers.

Don't confuse yourself with ideas of good and evil. Nature shows us that there are no such distinctions. You and I both inherited something from our fathers. Is your legacy any less of a curse or blessing than mine?

Join me.

Yours —

Friedrich

Gabriel clutched the letter in a fist, crumpling the maddening seduction. Want him? Leave with him? How the hell could he? He brushed the crumpled paper from the couch wearily and settled back with a sigh to sleep, one hand folded around the strength that his talisman offered.

Baron Friedrich von Glower parked his roadster directly in front of the theatre, heedless of the opera crew rushing about in their orderly chaos. None of them interested him; they were not whom he had come here to see. Nevertheless, he smiled and nodded pleasantly at the doorman as he entered the lobby. Looking about, he saw no person that struck him as being in authority, and returned to speak to the expectant-looking usher.

"Excuse me," he began, "but I am looking for Mr. Gabriel Knight. I believe he is one of the producers?"

The young man frowned thoughtfully. "I am sorry, sir, I haven't seen him about. You could try the office — if he is not there, Miss Nakimura may be."

"Thank you." Friedrich inclined his head at the boy, heading off in the direction that he had gestured.

The hallway led to the first row of theatre boxes, but an unlabeled door at the end seemed promising. Feeling more nervous than he had in very many years, he slowly headed towards it, hoping that Gabriel would be in there — and that he would still be welcome.

The door was unlocked, and it opened on a small room that resembled a lounge more than an office. He noticed a small table and chair and a filing cabinet against one wall before his eyes fell on the couch next to the door and were riveted there. Gabriel.

The American was asleep, and he closed the door behind himself quietly. The golden-red hair he so admired was damp with sweat, flopping over one eye and the wrinkle of a frown on his forehead. The broad shoulders shivered slightly with chill, and Friedrich remembered sympathetically his own time spent in the Change, the illness and weakness that preceded the strength. One of Gabriel's hands lay on top of the coverings, folded around the Schattenjäger talisman. He did get my letter, then. And he has been safe. Good. Gabriel's jacket was draped over a nearby chair, and Friedrich added it to the pile on top of him, wrapping him carefully.

Kneeling at Gabriel's side, he studied the troubled face tenderly, stroking back the damp hair and tucking it behind one ear with a caress.

Gabriel stirred, and muttered without opening his eyes, "Told you, Gracie, not the hair."

Friedrich smiled at that, chuckling at both his friend's sleepy assumption and his useless vanity. Resting his hand along Gabriel's face, he massaged his scalp gently, easing the headache he knew would be there. "If Gracie is not allowed, may I presume the privilege?"

The light brown eyes shot open, and Gabriel stared at him with a mixed look of fury and confusion, but made no move out from under his hand, heartening Friedrich.

"You!"

"Yes, Gabriel, I. I had told you we would meet soon, had I not? Yet I found I could not wait until this evening, only to see you with so many others around. We are, and will be, too close for such posturing. And there is much to be said between us that needs no audience." He let his hand drift down to cover Gabriel's where it lay on his chest. "But I see you are weary — the Change takes much out of you, I know. I had hoped that this," he squeezed Gabriel's hand around the talisman, "might help somewhat to lend you strength and peace of mind. How have you been doing?"

Gabriel stared at the baron, speechless. What did you say to the person who'd saved your life, the person you might have to kill if you wanted to keep that life yours? What did you say to the best friend you'd ever had, when the extent of their betrayal was matched only by the extent of your own?

"What are you doing here?" Feeling at a disadvantage, he struggled to sit up, looking down now at Friedrich as he kneeled before him.

Friedrich smiled gently. "I am here to see you, of course." The smile faltered. "To — apologize, for the way in which this has happened, and to decide on our future together." His face was somber, but his eyes flashed with an excitement that kindled Gabriel's resentment of the man.

"Our future? You let this happen to me — you changed von Zell, you stood by while he attacked me, and now you expect me to just go off with you? You planned this all along, didn't you? You must be madder than King Ludwig!"

Friedrich shook his head sadly. "No, Gabriel. I am sorry about Garr; I honestly thought when I changed him that he would escape the madness of the others. When he began killing…" He shrugged. "What could I do?" His head bowed, shoulders slumped as though under a great weight, and against his better judgement Gabriel felt sorry for the man. "I could not harm him nor kill him. No more than I can now harm you." He looked up and stroked Gabriel's cheek, and Gabriel closed his eyes, feeling his skin sing in that hand's wake. Then it was gone, and Friedrich continued.

"I never intended for him to harm you. I was relieved when I discovered you were after him, and I helped you as far as I could. Would I have given you the rifle if I did not trust you implicitly? I as much as told you that I was a wolf as well; you knew this, did you not? You trusted me then; will you trust me now?"

Gabriel closed his eyes, remembering those moments in the woods. Had he really known even then what Friedrich was?

The wolf was caught between the Ritter talisman he bore and the edge of the ravine, with no way of escaping. They were at a stalemate, the great wolf at bay and the unarmed shadow-hunter. Then Friedrich reappeared from wherever he'd been since they'd flushed their prey, bearing the rifle Gabriel had refused. At last, they stood a chance to win.

"Shoot it!" he urged, but the baron hesitated. "Friedrich, kill him!"

His friend looked nervously from the wolf to him. "You will have to do it!" Then the rifle was being tossed his direction, and he caught it reflexively, swinging the talisman from one hand. What the hell was Friedrich up to? He was a hunter for god's sake, he couldn't be squeamish; and he was the one who could shoot this damn rifle!

One step short of panic, he raised the weapon (heard Friedrich's words, like a formal pronouncement), sighted it as best he could ("I created this, Gabriel."), aimed it at the large, brown wolf in front of him (like the language in the Schattenjäger book), and pulled the trigger.

Gabriel stared blankly at the wall. He had realized, in one corner of his mind, just what was going on. But once the gun had gone off, he was too busy dealing with blood and death, and then the pain had taken over, and there had been no time to think of anything else. He shut his eyes and rubbed at his temples, remembering.

Friedrich came to his aid, and he leaned gratefully on his friend's shoulder, gritting his teeth against the pain. "You made me kill him! Thank god you made me kill him…" There was something else he should be worried about, too — something…

By the time they left the clearing, Friedrich was half-carrying him; he remembered nothing more before waking up cold in the Rathaus dungeon in Rittersberg.

He opened his eyes again and was forced, reluctantly, to agree with Friedrich. The baron had done what he could, and if Gabriel had not been unconscious, Friedrich's actions would have left him at the mercy of the Schattenjäger, unarmed and exposed. He supposed that for his behavior with von Zell, he could maybe forgive him. But still —

"When were you planning on telling me, Friedrich? If I'd done away with von Zell on my own, left him in that cave with the bones of his victims, what were you going to do? Was I gonna have a little 'hunting accident' like Ludwig did, just get bitten by some unknown wolf out in the woods?" The anger boiled up inside him, gnawing at him like a thing alive. "Did you even bother to think of what I might want, or didn't that matter to you?"

Friedrich frowned and leaned forward, gripping Gabriel's shoulder, stroking the pulse-point at his throat with his thumb. Gabriel froze, breathing heavily, some of his anger bleeding away under that touch, though he struggled to hold onto it.

"You have every right to be angry with me, Gabriel." Friedrich spoke soothingly. "To answer your question, I do not know. Whether I asked you or not would have largely depended upon your reactions to von Zell. But now it has happened, and it cannot be turned back. Can you blame me for being pleased to have you with me?"

Gabriel leaned forward earnestly. "It can be turned back. King Ludwig found a way. Wagner's music — this opera…" He shook his head, trying to remember exactly how it went. "It…it was supposed to cure him. And you, I think," he conceded reluctantly. Friedrich had been involved then, too, hadn't he? Damn, if he hadn't been so out of it when they'd explained, if he'd paid more attention! "He just never had a chance to do the whole thing, like he planned. He — "

"Gabriel," Friedrich interrupted, shaking his head, "Ludwig was mad, and he spoke often in hyperbole. You cannot be certain that he meant precisely what he said. To lay all your hopes upon this…"

Gabriel's jaw set stubbornly. "He did. Wagner said the same thing, and he wasn't insane. He designed it all — the music, the story, the building of the whole damn opera house! It's all designed to work together, like some kind of…magic, or something." He shook his head, at a loss to explain it. Something about Friedrich. It has to work on him, not just me. "Grace checked it all out — it will work!" He clutched at Friedrich's hand, not about to give up. "Come to the opera tonight, and you'll see! It can cure us both, Friedrich!"

Friedrich shivered as a chill passed through him. He shook his head and spoke even more quietly than was his wont. "I don't wish to be 'cured', Gabriel. And if I did —" He turned his hand in Gabriel's, holding on tightly as he met his gaze straight on. "This magic was devised two hundred years ago, for another person, another time — another phase of the moon, for all you know! You are Schattenjäger, you should know the danger of meddling in magic you do not understand! If only one thing goes wrong, you don't know what might happen!" He stroked Gabriel's face wistfully. "Do you wish to be free of me so badly as to risk everything in this fashion?"

Gabriel tossed his head emphatically. "It's all planned; they wrote it all down. Grace has the letters. We know exactly how to do it all; they have all the measurements —"

Friedrich blinked, interrupting. "Wait a moment, Gabriel. You are saying he designed his opera specifically for the Wittelsbacher?"

As if sensing capitulation, Gabriel grew more animated. "Yes! Now do you see? He planned for everything!"

Friedrich grimaced, hissing in through his teeth. "Not quite everything, I'm afraid. Gabriel, the Wittelsbacher theatre that Wagner built was destroyed during the War — this Wittelsbacher is less than fifty years old!"

Gabriel gaped at him. "It can't be! It's —" He gestured at the aged walls of the room they were sitting in.

"I'm sure there were some rooms left standing by the bombs, and they reused as much of the material as they could, but the theatre itself was razed. I should know," he barked in laughter, "I helped to fund the restoration."

Gabriel looked floored for a moment, then rallied. "Well, they would've built it the same, right? Or close enough, anyway. It's worth a shot! We're gonna test it as soon as they're done; we can see if it works, anyway —"

"Gabriel!" He interrupted the manic words. "Listen to what I am saying! This theatre is not the same. The skeleton is different, it is smaller; God only knows what magic might have been used in the original, but it was not used this time. A large portion of what you need will not be there. You cannot mean to try such unleashed magic on yourself!" He clutched Gabriel's hands, needing with everything that he was to impress this upon his dear friend. "You could end up worse than Garr! It could drive you mad, or change you into a wolf for good — there is no predicting what might happen!" He calmed his voice, speaking gently but with no less intensity. "Please, do not do this thing. I would sooner rebuild the original theatre, have you cured and leave me for good than lose you to such madness."

Gabriel sat silently, gazing at him like a lost little boy. Then with the mercurial temperament that was a hallmark of the Change, his mouth twisted into an angry grimace. "So I'm supposed to let you decide for me again? Cave in and let you run my life for me, just like that? Christ, you can't quit!"

Friedrich searched his face, seeing the desperation that the anger hid. No animal liked to be cornered. He hesitated, wanting nothing more than to drag him out of there forcefully for his own and Gabriel's well-being. But we are men as well as wolves, and sometimes our nature demands that our prey — or our mates — come to us. Fate has led us this far. Will it serve a while longer?

With one last caress, he took Gabriel's face in his hands. "You trusted me once before, and I hope that your trust was not misplaced. I ask that you do so again, that you follow your instinct and your heart and come with me. But I will not force you, Gabriel. The choice, such as it is," he acknowledged, "is yours. I will wait for you outside in the car, should you choose to join me."

He twitched Gabriel's jacket around his shoulders and smoothed it down, then leaned forward and brushed one careful kiss across his full lips, rose, and keeping Gabriel in sight until the door was shut, left him.

The closing door sounded more loudly through his body than the gunshot that had killed von Zell, and he quickened his steps through the theatre before his resolve could falter.

Gabriel sat unmoving for many minutes after Friedrich left, the chaos of emotions within him pulling him in too many disparate directions for him to act on any one. That kiss — he'd noticed the mutual attraction between them, but thinking about it and doing anything about it were two entirely different things. And what kind of sex lives did werewolves have, anyway? Reckon I'll find out soon enough, if I…

And God, how could they have screwed up so badly? He'd thought for sure this would work! How could I be so stupid? We should've checked to make sure the building was still the same! Unbidden came another thought. Grace did the checking, handled the arrangements. The chandeliers're almost up, he remembered. And he was sure she'd said something about seating and — why didn't she notice? A chill ran down his spine. How could she not? Did she just not tell me about it? Or is Friedrich lying?

One of them was playing a game with his life, and he meant to find out which one. Gabriel leapt off the couch and lurched to the door, pausing to shove his arms into his jacket and get his dizziness under control. He yanked on the doorknob and strode out, barreling into Grace, who yelped in surprise and grabbed hold of him.

"Gabriel!"

He shrugged off her hands and stood back, straightening his hair with his fingers as best he could. "Gracie. I was just coming to find you."

She looked startled. "What's wrong? Are you okay? I mean," she backpedalled, "we're doing all this work, it'll be a waste if you keel over before it's finished." Her initial worry was quickly buried in her habitual mask of annoyance with him.

"Your concern is overwhelming, Gracie," he answered her coolly. "Tell me, in all of this work you've been doing, did you happen to notice that this theatre's not the same one Wagner built?"

She swallowed nervously, a quick stab of pity and fear in her eyes masked immediately by bravado as she searched for something to say.

"You did! You already knew!" The blood roared in his head as he advanced on her, menacing. "You knew this whole thing was fucked up, and you kept going!"

Her eyes grew wider as he approached, but any friendship that he felt for her was ruthlessly quashed with the knowledge of what she had done. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?" His eyes narrowed. "You even opened my mail, kept the talisman from me! Did you get a kick out of watching me squirm, or did you just like being the one in control?! You never have liked me much, have you? What was this all about for you, huh? A bit of fun, just more research? This is my life!"

His voice thundered through the hallway, but he couldn't be bothered to care what anyone else might hear. Footsteps heralded the concerned usher, and Gabriel glared at him, but the man's presence gave him enough pause to lower his fists, clenching and unclenching them but no longer contemplating violence on this woman who called herself friend.

"Gabriel, listen! I —"

He turned back to her, his voice lowered to a growl. "I thought that maybe I could trust you, Gracie. Thanks for nothing, darlin' — I'll take it from here myself." Whirling around, he marched stiff-backed past the nervous doorman and out the lobby to the street. Eyes passing over the Volkswagens and cheap Toyotas in the lot, he found Friedrich's car and headed for it, never slowing down despite Grace's yelled pleas from behind him.

He yanked open the door of the silver car, throwing himself into the passenger seat and slamming the door closed.

Friedrich appeared relieved, but restrained himself to a small quirk of the lips for his victory. "Please be careful with my car, Gabriel, it is a classic."

He scowled and leaned back in the seat. "Don't start with me, Friedrich. I've had a shitty day. Just get me out of here, now."

Friedrich smiled sympathetically. "Whatever you say, my friend." Turning his attention to the traffic, he pulled out from the curb, and Gabriel's eyes closed on the sight of the theatre disappearing behind the nearby buildings and the bustle of Munich.

What the fuck am I getting myself into?

Grace ran after Gabriel, only to find her way blocked by the theatre's manager, telling her they were finally — finally! — ready for the sound check. She all but screamed and pounded on the man's chest with her fists; he was a little late now! She ended up telling him just to do whatever he wanted, but by the time she extricated herself and made it to the entrance, Gabriel was gone.

She looked frantically both ways, even ran to the nearest street corners yelling for him, but he was nowhere to be seen, and she fought down a sense of screaming panic and anger. What now?

Friedrich controlled his emotions with the ease of long practice, focusing on the streets and the cars around him. In the back of his mind, though, he was soaring in joy and wonder and disbelief. After so long spent searching, to have a companion, someone by his side who could share this life with him. And he knew in his heart that Gabriel was that one. He would not be driven mad by the Change — the power of the Schattenjäger would protect him. Nor did the irony of that fact escape Friedrich.

Still, Gabriel would need instruction, to learn control of the Change and himself. And he would need direction and companionship, someone to care for him while he learned what he must. It was his duty as Alpha to give these things to Gabriel, but it would be his pleasure as well, to spend so much time with this fascinating and beautiful man, a match for him in so many ways.

Strange that someone he had known only a handful of days before they'd parted could come to mean so much so quickly. He had surrounded himself with people all his life, yet remained apart in the midst of the crowd. But he had felt a kinship with Gabriel from the moment they'd met. A different man might have been worried by this, he supposed, but Friedrich was well-used to following his instincts, and they rarely played him false. Still, there was a feeling of fate to all of this, like losing his feet on a rocky slope; nothing to do but trust to gravity, nature, and luck to land him on his feet, wherever he might end up.

"Gabriel?" He spoke softly, not wishing to wake the other man if he'd fallen asleep.

"Mm?"Almost asleep, then. Friedrich smiled fondly.

"Where would you like to go for now? Do you have a room here in Munich, or have you been staying in Rittersberg?"

"Back home," Gabriel muttered, waving one hand at the window without opening his eyes. "'s too far; let's just go to your place."

Friedrich nodded, already headed toward Perlacher Forst. So now, we trust in fate and gravity.

Gabriel woke with a start. The car had stopped, and Friedrich was shaking his shoulder. He looked around, rubbing his eyes, and recognized Friedrich's impressive house in Perlach.

"You're a sound sleeper," Friedrich noted. "I hated to wake you, but you are rather heavy to carry." The amusement was clear in his voice, and Gabriel grinned wryly in acknowledgement.

"You managed just fine last time."

"That's what you think," Friedrich chuckled. "You weren't awake for it. Come along." He slapped Gabriel's thigh and levered himself out of the car, waiting for Gabriel to follow.

The butler, Gunther, met them at the door, then made himself scarce at a word from the baron. Friedrich looked Gabriel over searchingly, and he cocked his head in question.

"You still look tired. Come, you can use the same room as last time." He began steering them to the stairs, but Gabriel pulled away with a sigh.

"I just woke up, Friedrich — I've been sleeping off and on for weeks now; I've had enough!" He had the feeling he sounded like a kid trying to stay up past bed-time, but he couldn't help it; this really got on his nerves. "When does it get better?"

Friedrich shrugged. "Soon, I think. Tomorrow, most likely, at the rate you are going. You are already more awake than you have been, yes?"

"Yes." Gabriel nodded in reluctant agreement, then set his jaw stubbornly, crossing his arms. "And I still don't want to go back to sleep just yet."

Friedrich laughed, shaking his head. "You will be impossible to live with, I can see. Come along, then; we will sit in the study. We do have much to discuss, if you feel up to it. Would you care for a drink?"

They settled on the leather couch, the same place they'd gotten drunk together just two months before. Gabriel could only vaguely remember the things they'd discussed — his writing, Friedrich's travels, the men at the hunt club, Grace — but he still held close to the memory of the warmth and comradeship they'd shared.

He'd never had many friends in his life. There was his grandmother, who'd raised him after his parents' death, and Mosely, who he'd been friends with since school (and since Mosely'd had hair, as Gabriel still liked to remind the detective). As far as other people he hung out with — there was Bruno, who owned the flower shop next to his bookstore and who'd kept after him for years to sell him his dad's painting (which he'd finally got, and almost immediately returned because it gave him nightmares) or to sleep with him (Gabriel shuddered at the very idea). There was his editor, Dan, another guy he tried to avoid as much as possible, since having a best-seller apparently made the man even more of a vulture for the next manuscript. There were the numerous women he hopped into bed with — some of 'em weren't bad if you just wanted to waste time.

And there had been Grace, an absolute gem at working the bookshop (she knew what most of them were about and wasn't too picky on when she got paid), and she'd been a big help on researching stuff for him as the Schattenjäger, even flying out to Germany to help on this case (not that he'd actually asked her to). But she'd always been a little too snooty to get to know him any better, though that didn't stop her trying to run his life. The girl meant well, but still… No. He scowled and crossed her off his mental list, determined not to forgive her this time.

"Hey." Friedrich's voice brought him out of his musings, and he shook his head to clear it.

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

"That's quite all right; I don't mind. I thought that perhaps you were falling asleep after all." His voice softened even further. "Or were having second thoughts about coming with me."

Ready to snap at him, Gabriel noticed the nervous movement of Friedrich's hands where they lay on the couch. He's worried about this, too. Well, why not? Without that opera, all I have to do to be human again is kill him. And my great-something-granddad did burn his dad at the stake. "No. I'm fine, and I told you, I'm not tired. Just — thinking."

Friedrich's look asked for more, and Gabriel shrugged. "About people, mostly. I've never been close to all that many folks, you know. Didn't bother, mostly — I was sure I was gonna die young, like my dad and my granddad. There didn't seem to be much point. Then once I found out about the family curse and broke it — I knew so many things I couldn't tell anyone," he sighed, "it made it kinda hard. But with you —" He studied the chiseled face of this man he ought to hate. "Hell, one day and I'm telling you my life's history! We really clicked, you know? The second we shook hands, there was something there. That day at the hunting lodge," he blanched, remembering the vision of von Zell eating the bodies of his victims, "I knew I could go to you about von Zell, and trust you to help me. And you're right," he admitted reluctantly, "even after I'd figured out what you were, I still trusted you. I don't think I've ever been as close to anyone as I am to you. And I don't know why."

Friedrich leaned closer and took his hand. "I know exactly what you mean, Gabriel. I have felt the same way, seen the same closeness that you have. I told you once that men have become too distanced from their instincts, that we need to learn to listen to them more often. This, I think, is instinct on a basic level. Something whispers deep inside of me, 'Stay close to him; it is your fate to be together.' I believe it; I think that we were meant to be together, though I, too, do not know why this is."

His words tugged at a memory, and Gabriel followed them, tracking it down. An odd chill burned through his heart. "Zingsti," he whispered.

"What?"

He swallowed, more frightened of this than he'd been of von Zell. "An ancestor of mine, Gunter Ritter, he came to America and fell in love with a slave woman named Tetelo. They knew it was trouble, but as soon as they met… She said their tribe had a word for when two people feel like that. They called it Zingsti. It means fate's brought them together for a reason, and they can't fight it, no matter what they want."

Friedrich nodded calmly. "Is that what you believe has happened with us?"

Gabriel jumped up and began pacing, too agitated to sit still. "I don't know! Doesn't it bother you at all, that fate could just play games with us like that, make us do anything? I feel like a fucking puppet!"

Friedrich shook his head. "Why should it bother me? We are all the pawns of fate, whether we know it or not. People, situations, are thrown into our lives, and we act as we must. If it is because of some larger plan, well," he shrugged, "what difference does that make to us?"

"What difference? It —" He whirled at the end of the room and continued pacing, clenching his hands in his hair, trying to find a word for this — trapped — feeling he had. How could Friedrich not feel it? "It's just —" Gabriel gave up and snarled in frustration.

He turned again at the opposite wall and strode a few more feet before Friedrich rose and stepped in front of him.

"Gabriel." His voice was soothing, as always, but Gabriel didn't want to be soothed. He wanted — he didn't know what he wanted. He scowled and started to step around him, but long-fingered hands came up and cradled his head, forcing to look into Friedrich's face.

"Answer me this," the soothing voice continued. "If your choice were completely up to you, would you choose to leave me now?"

He wanted to ignore the question as irrelevant, but those dark, compelling eyes would not let him. He tried to focus on an answer through the renewed burning in his head, but couldn't come up with one. Would I leave Friedrich, if given the choice? Hell, I don't want to be a werewolf! But that wasn't what he'd asked, was it?

Friedrich smiled wistfully when he could not answer. "Many of a man's cages are of his own making. You are not trapped if you stay by your own choice. Think on it."

That made sense in a weird way, but it didn't work like that. The cage was there, he could feel it in his gut, lying in wait. Mixing my metaphors, he laughed slightly hysterically to himself.

Friedrich frowned, searching his face. "There is more involved here than you are saying, isn't there?"

Gabriel sighed explosively and tried once more to step around and return to his pacing. He just had to move!

Friedrich grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. Gabriel snarled at him, but Friedrich didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped forward, those hands going once more to Gabriel's shoulders and neck, their gentle massage contrasted by the sharp bark of his voice.

"Answer me, Gabriel!" He searched Gabriel's face intently. "You are not tired any more, are you?"

Gabriel focussed on those talented fingers, shoving aside his discomfort and restlessness, expecting to find the exhaustion that had dogged him these past two months. But it was gone now; he felt as if he could stay up for days if he had to. Friedrich stared at him, waiting for an answer. "No, I don't. I'm wide awake," he admitted with some relief.

Friedrich nodded and brushed Gabriel's hair out of his face, stopping his massage; the pain returned more quickly this time.

"And how do you feel?"

That one was easy. "Like someone's wrapped my brain in broken glass."

A sympathetic smile flitted across Friedrich's face, then he nodded and moved away.

"Come." He gestured to Gabriel as he retrieved the car keys. "We are leaving here now."

Gabriel was torn between confusion and annoyance at the man's imperious decree. "Why the hell should we leave? We just got here!"

Friedrich looked back at him soberly. "The change is progressing more rapidly than I had thought. You were so weak earlier, I'd thought it would take at least another day. But at this rate, I believe that you will change tonight."

Gabriel froze, the somewhat abstract idea of becoming a wolf abruptly made more real. "Tonight?" He swallowed nervously.

"Yes," Friedrich confirmed, "very likely. Come on!"

But perversely, as badly as he'd needed to move only moments ago, he now wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and wait for all this to pass. "Why do we have to go anywhere? I'll just — maybe I'll go to sleep now after all —"

He hadn't finished speaking before Friedrich had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and was propelling him out the door.

"Friedrich!"

"Listen carefully, Gabriel." He spoke intensely, never pausing as he ushered them out to his Land Rover. "The Change is almost impossible to control at first." He guided Gabriel into the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel. "When the wolf becomes paramount in your mind, you will hunt. Do you not think it would be wiser if your prey were chosen from among the forest animals rather than from among the people of the city?"

Gabriel paled under the Friedrich's earnest gaze, seeing once again the bodies that von Zell had piled up. He swallowed convulsively and forced down the antsiness still plaguing him, smiling weakly at Friedrich. "I think it would be wiser to head for the forest."

Friedrich smiled back and squeezed his thigh reassuringly. "You will do fine, Gabriel. And I will be by your side to guide you." Then, turning back to the controls, he pulled onto the street and turned the car towards Eppenberg.

He watched Gabriel closely during their trip, and it was a mark of the younger man's distress that he never complained about it. Indeed, Friedrich doubted that he even noticed the scrutiny. His attention was wandering, flitting over the city and then the woods as they flew by. He seemed equally scattered physically, constantly in motion, crossing and uncrossing his legs, shifting in his seat, working his shoulders and neck in an attempt to ease the ache Friedrich knew permeated his bones by now. Gabriel fidgeted with his seatbelt, then pulled on it to give himself more and more room, and finally wrenched it free with a snarl.

"Damn it, aren't we there yet? It didn't take this long last time!"

Friedrich eyed the restless man next to him, and spoke soothingly. "Soon, Gabriel. Not much longer now." Already he was driving as fast as he dared.

Gabriel scowled darkly. "I could walk there faster than this, damn it! We should've just stayed in Munich, at this rate! Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing here!" His voice grew more frantic with each word, and he scrabbled for the door-handle as he spoke. Alarmed, Friedrich threw an arm across his chest and grabbed his hand before Gabriel could open the door.

"Gabriel! Stay where you are!"

The hand left the door, and Gabriel's scowl refocused on him. "Who the hell do you think you are, giving me orders?"

"I'm the one who is trying to help you," he reminded him sternly. "Think, Gabriel — why are we going out to the lodge?

The surly expression didn't lighten. "What the hell does that matter?"

"Answer me, Gabriel," he growled insistently.

Gabriel looked as though he would argue further, but Friedrich pinned him to his seat with a quelling glance, waiting for an answer.

Gabriel sighed and put a hand to his head, visibly trying to focus his thoughts. "We're getting out of Munich, okay?"

"Because?" Friedrich prompted.

"Because it seemed like a good idea at the time, all right?" Friedrich shot him a look, and he threw his head against the head-rest, tapping his foot nervously. "Because wolves in the city are a bad idea, right? Because —" He stiffened, then all the fight seemed to leave him at once. "Because I don't want to kill anyone." He drew in breath in an hysterical chuckle. "Jesus, and I'm complaining about being cooped up in a car?"

Friedrich threaded his hand through Gabriel's hair, petting him reassuringly. "It's all right, Gabriel. That won't be a problem; we will be there soon, I promise."

Gabriel leaned into the caress and rubbed his eyes wearily. "Aw, fuck, Friedrich, when is this shit gonna stop? I don't understand any of this. I'm behaving like —" He stopped and shook his head.

"Like a caged wolf?" Friedrich finished for him. "It is always like that at first; it will get better, easier to deal with. For now, we will get you someplace it won't matter, yes? But you must hang on until we're there. I know that you can do it."

He moved his hand to Gabriel's knee, wanting to help settle this bout of claustrophobia, but unsure of what he could do. Eventually, Gabriel shuddered, ran a hand shakily through his hair, and turned to him with a nervous smile Friedrich thought was meant to be reassuring.

"I'm okay, Friedrich, really. I'm fine now."

To Friedrich's surprise, Gabriel grabbed the hand that lay on his knee and twined their fingers together in a secure grip. Though he could feel the strong hand twitching in his, Gabriel did not pull free, but held on more tightly.

Friedrich shook his head. "Not yet, perhaps, but you will be." Even now, at this difficult moment of change, he is able to balance the human with the beast. And he accepts me. Yes, Gabriel, I believe that you will be just fine.

Gabriel maintained his self-control for the rest of their drive, clinging stubbornly to Friedrich's hand though the rest of his body remained in motion. Nor did he bolt from the vehicle when they stopped, but managed to hold himself with stiff control as he climbed out quickly. He ignored the lodge itself and stalked rapidly to the edge of the woods, stumbling into their shadow to fall on the ground at the base of a tree. Gabriel's legs twitched, and he moaned and huddled in on himself as if cold once more, but stayed where he lay.

Friedrich left his jacket in the car and climbed rapidly out of the rest of his clothes, folding them neatly on the seat before following Gabriel.

Gabriel jerked when Friedrich touched him, and gazed at him through pain-lidded eyes. Friedrich crooned soothingly to him and sat on the ground, pulling Gabriel into his arms.

Gabriel fought the sudden confinement, flailing about in an attempt to get free. Friedrich caught one hand before it connected with his face, and winced as a booted foot impacted with his knee. Grabbing him about the waist, he surrounded the sweating body with his own, doing his best to comfort without restraining. Gradually Gabriel stilled, whimpering his pain and confusion, but pressing back into him now rather than trying to get away.

Friedrich lay there briefly before carefully reaching around to remove Gabriel's boots. It was a difficult operation without sitting up, but he was reluctant to deprive the shivering man of the heat and comfort he so desperately needed. He could feel Gabriel shivering.

The shoes removed, he pulled Gabriel's socks off as well, and moved on to his jeans, pulling the Schattenjäger dagger free and setting it aside before reaching for the buttons. At that, Gabriel protested, and to Friedrich's surprise managed to speak.

"D— don't! C-cold."

"I know." He rubbed Gabriel's sweating arms and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'm here; I'll keep you as warm as I can. But you should be out of these before the change comes upon you. Do you want to spend your first night as a wolf tangled in your own clothes?"

He finished as he spoke, quickly lying back down, chafing Gabriel's legs with his own, knowing the freezing cold that gripped him despite the sweat. Gabriel made no answer to him, though, and Friedrich suspected he had once more moved beyond speech.

He warmed Gabriel as best he could and pushed his own anxieties for the man aside with difficulty; he would need his wits about him if he were to see his friend through his first change.

I ought to be experienced at this by now, he thought, but somehow, the necessary dispassion had not been so difficult with the others he'd Changed. Most certainly not with Garr von Zell. Some of them had been mere companions, some good friends, yet he didn't recall feeling as connected to their pain as he was to that of the man now in his arms. Why that might be was an issue he did not have time to dwell on just yet, and he pushed it firmly to the back of his mind for later.

It was growing dark already, and he hastened to get Gabriel free of the last of his clothes. Despite his prodding, however, Gabriel would not unfold his arms, and with an apologetic shrug, Friedrich grabbed his knife and ripped his T-shirt up the back and along the sleeves, tossing the rags aside.

He paused with the dagger in his hand, eyeing it and the Schattenjäger talisman around Gabriel's neck. There was no way he could carry the knife as a wolf, and the talisman…the golden chain it was on might be large enough to accommodate the wolf's neck, but if it were not, Gabriel could find himself strangled, or break the chain and lose it altogether. Or if it were too big, it might slip off in the woods, with the same result.

With a sigh, he gingerly removed the talisman. Gabriel merely sighed in protest as he did so — further evidence of his depth into the change.

Friedrich looked about, wishing there were a safe place to leave the precious objects, and eventually settled for wrapping them tightly in Gabriel's clothes, hoping that the human scent would keep any animals away, and that poachers knew better than to intrude so far into his lands.

The fiery sunset settled to dusk, and the moon rose into an indigo sky. Friedrich felt the pull, waking the wolf in him, whispering of the glory of hunting on such a night, but he resisted the call, wishing first to make certain that Gabriel would be well.

Pain! Shards in his brain, ever deeper, noiseless scream of agony, no escape — Heat behind, familiar smell…

He latched onto that smell and warmth, wanting to crawl into it as pain lanced through his spine, setting his body aflame. The fire raged through his body, searing his cold limbs to ash, and he howled in pain as his entire being disintegrated, every bone torn apart, every muscle ripped free of its moorings.

A wave cracked through him as his body snapped back into place, and the fire vanished all at once, leaving him panting for breath in an aching heap, fading sparks of hurt the only remnants of the previous agony. He lay still on the cool earth, enjoying the lack of pain, thinking no further than that.

A wet nose nudged his shoulder, growing more insistent as he failed to respond, until he reluctantly pried his eyes open a little and craned his neck to look back at the one who was prodding him.

The wolf was large and black, and stared back at him with its golden eyes glowing in the moonlight. It leaned forward and nuzzled his face, then bounded one step away and stood looking back, waiting. The last of the pain was fading from his limbs, and the invitation was electrifying. He leapt up eagerly to follow.

He staggered a bit at first, disoriented for some reason, but recovered his balance rapidly, and soon he and the other were racing through woods damp from a recent rain, smelling green and alive.

And teeming with prey. He snapped his head up as he scented food on the wind, halting abruptly to twist about and determine where that scent was coming from. The black wolf stopped as well, watching him for a moment before sniffing the wind himself. They caught the direction at the same time, and with a savage grin, the black wolf set off on the chase, and he followed once more, keeping at the other's shoulder.

The wind flew in his face and ruffled the fur along both his sides. The blood-scent of this prey promised a good hunt and large meal. A thought flitted through, almost a memory — It was glorious — but he let it fall behind him with the wind.

They ran through the woods together, the full moon illuminating the forest floor brightly. They closed in until he could hear their prey's startled flight through the trees, and for a moment he wished that the hunt could continue, but the delicious scent of the prey called, and he ran ever faster, anxious to take this one down, feel the life as it drained from his prey's throat.

Then it was before them, hot and alive and reeking of fear, and they dashed to either side of it, harrying from both directions. He leapt at it, darting back as it spun to face him.

Its scream rang through the forest as the other wolf tore into its side. Its head reared back in pain, and he lunged for its throat, tearing the soft flesh with his sharp teeth, drinking briefly from its lifeblood before dancing out of reach of its flailing limbs. The black wolf took his place, opening the wound further and knocking their prey to the ground before leaving the kill to him. He used his weight to hold the struggling prey down as he sunk strong jaws into the savaged throat, reveling in the taste of blood and sinew as he crushed the life from it, hearing its neck snap from the force of his bite.

He sat back on his haunches, pleased with the hunt and the size of the quarry, and cleaned the blood from his muzzle. The other wolf nuzzled him briefly in approval before settling down to turn to their meal. They ate well, and still there was plenty of meat left when they were done. It seemed a waste that their pack should be so small. There should be more to share this victory and meal with.

He was bowled over from behind suddenly, and tumbled on the damp ground, having missed the other wolf's jubilant attack. Before he could move, he found himself pinned to the ground, his face and ears being washed thoroughly, as if he were a cub.

He growled and wriggled fruitlessly until a black-furred leg came too near his snout, and he snapped out, grasping it firmly in his jaw and yanking the other wolf to his back with a surprised yelp. Then they were wrestling and snarling at each other, playing like cubs, and this was every bit as much fun as the hunt.

Eventually, though, they both flopped to the ground exhausted, and he grinned at the wolf who had ended up on top of him when they'd collapsed.

The other grinned back for a moment, then nuzzled him once more and threw back his head to howl in celebration of their life. The sound stirred his blood, and he dislodged his pack-brother to roll upright and add his own voice to the chorus.

They sang their duet of the hunt, and the glory of being alive, and the beauty of the song itself, and he gave himself up to the music until it was finished. When it was done, the black wolf headed off, silently waiting once more for him to follow, and he did, not knowing or caring where they were headed, trusting him to lead them to a good den to spend the day in.

Gabriel drifted awake slowly, stretching sensuously against the cool sheets. Nice. Not the couch or the cot he'd been sleeping on recently, but an actual bed. He rolled over and winced at the bright sunlight streaming through the window, then buried his head in the soft pillow with a grunt, determined to get a few hours' more sleep.

A rich, deep chuckle startled him, and he peered blearily over his shoulder.

Friedrich.

But the room wasn't the one he'd used at Friedrich's home, and it took his sleep-fogged brain a moment to snap the memory into its proper place.

The hunting lodge. Then, more specifically as he sat up and peered around, Friedrich's bedroom at the hunting lodge.

He ordered his brain sternly to start functioning properly, and gratefully accepted the assistance of the coffee Friedrich held out to him. God, please don't tell me we slept together and I was too drunk to remember it!

But, he realized as Friedrich sat on the edge of the bed, his own lack of clothing and Friedrich's robe (and nothing else, apparently) didn't bode well for that hope. Not that he remembered drinking at all, either.

"I seem to remember you do like your morning coffee. How are you feeling this morning?"

Gabriel buried himself in the cup, stalling for time, but Friedrich patiently waited him out, and the cup was only so big. Say something, Gabriel! Think! "Umm —" He winced. Bright.

Friedrich chuckled, and Gabriel shot him a half-hearted glare. "It's not polite to make fun of the dead. Where's the coffee-pot?"

"Downstairs." Friedrich shook his head and exchanged his own barely-touched mug for Gabriel's empty one. "Here." Those observant eyes scanned him as he started in on the new cup gratefully. "How much do you remember?"

It took a moment for the question to penetrate, and the mild tone gave little away, forcing him to make conclusions on his own. He tried searching his memory once more, certain something significant must have occurred. Other than sleeping naked in his bed? a little voice chortled before he ruthlessly squashed it.

He started with his last really clear memories. He could recall a lot of shit at the theatre that he didn't really care to think of just now; then, "We went back to your place." Friedrich nodded. "But we're at the lodge now —" The ride to the lodge came clear. A second later, so did the reason for their trip. "We came out here to get away from the city, because —" Because I turned into a wolf last night.

He gasped as the knowledge hit him and squeezed his eyes tight, frantically dragging up every fragment of memory he could find. Only maddening flashes surfaced, and he growled in frustration, burying his head in his knees. "Why can't I remember?!"

Friedrich sank one hand into his hair and rubbed soothingly. "I told you, the first change is hard to control. The wolf is very dominant then; before you learn to merge both parts of your consciousness, it can be as hard to match your thoughts to the wolf's as it is to change your body."

A sudden memory did return then, and he shuddered.

"What is it?"

"Just another recollection," he muttered. "Can I forget this one again, please?" He stretched his limbs gingerly, muscles aching in tension and remembered pain.

Friedrich pushed him down gently onto his stomach, removed the mug from his hands, and began massaging his shoulders and back. Gabriel groaned in thanks as those long, talented fingers sought out each ache and his muscles loosened once more.

"The first time is always the worst, the most painful." Friedrich's voice was as soothing as his hands. "Your body is undergoing something that it never has before. As you become more used to it, the pain will become bearable, and then it will go away."

His brain led down a different path by the attention of Friedrich's hands, Gabriel snickered at the man's choice of words, trying not to think too hard on what else it applied to.

"What?" Friedrich sounded amused but clueless.

"Oh — nothing —" If you don't know what you just said, friend, I am not gonna tell you.

Friedrich was silent for a moment, then spoke dryly. "The same could be said, of course, for many physical processes. There is no need to be vulgar about it."

Gabriel laughed. "I've been vulgar all my life, I don't see that changing now."

"Well, far be it from me to change the habits of a lifetime."

Gabriel smiled and sank back into the massage, idly flipping through the vague impressions of last night, working on making them clearer. The woods at night, wind, the moon, wet leaves, running, blood — Oh, hell!

He sat bolt upright, startling Friedrich and undoing all the good of the massage.

"We — last night —"

"Yes?" Friedrich placed one hand on his shoulder and waited for him to speak.

He swallowed and tried to force the words out. Friedrich wouldn't be so calm if there was a problem, would he? "I remember — I killed some—" someone? "something —" Felt it dying in my teeth, felt its blood running over me —

"Gabriel!" Friedrich's voice snapped him back to the present, his heart still pounding from fear and remembered excitement, his eyes wide.

Friedrich's hand moved to stroke his hair. "A deer, Gabriel. You need not worry."

He found he could breathe again, and closed his eyes in relief.

A gentle kiss brushed his mouth, though Friedrich's voice was a little sad. "Do you think that I would have let anything else happen?"

Gabriel shook his head. "You might not have stopped me in time; something could've gone wrong —"

"It did not." A slight chuckle, and Gabriel opened his eyes suspiciously, to see Friedrich's face overly somber, a hint of…something…lurking behind his eyes. "Although, it was not the only thing to die."

"Huh?" Gabriel's heart jumped into his throat.

Friedrich grinned wickedly, nodding. "I am afraid your shirt is quite beyond repair."

Who knew Friedrich could be so funny? If you could call it that. By the time Gabriel finished calling him a lot of choice things, Friedrich finally declared that he had had enough abuse for the morning, and headed downstairs, leaving Gabriel alone to shower.

The hot water sluiced over him, soothing, and Gabriel washed slowly, enjoying the simple pleasure. It didn't take long, though, for thoughts and memories to intrude. Damn. I almost wish things could be simple again. Which stopped him short for a moment. Almost? He stretched his neck and sighed, but forced himself to answer honestly. Yeah. Can't say I'm sold on all this Schattenjäger crap, but I am helping folks, I guess. And it sure beats knowing you'll die before thirty-five. It was weird to think about that, to think he'd passed that milestone up and was still here. Which in turn led to thinking on his other problem now. Hell, I don't guess I'll die at a hundred and thirty-five, unless something gets me. Do I really wanna live that long? It sent a shiver down his spine, despite the heat of the water. Forever was a damned long time. Not to mention the whole hairy-at-the-full-moon thing. Still, wasn't like he had a choice. Not unless…

Damn it! He slammed a fist into the wall, welcoming the sting of pain, suddenly furious. Why the hell does this shit always happen to me? Haven't I got enough to deal with already? He shook his head, flinging the water from his face, looking for something, anything, to break. Every muscle in his body tensed as he snarled, his nails digging into his fists as he tightened them further. He wrenched the curtain open, cursing as it stuck to his wet skin, tangling around him. It tripped him up and he fell hard, knocking the wind from his lungs. He gasped in air, the anger leaving him as suddenly as it had come, leaving confusion in its wake.

"Gabriel?" Friedrich took the stairs two at a time, pulled open the door, and rushed to kneel at his friend's side, the sudden thud explained. He reached over and quickly turned off the water, helping Gabriel up, and dragged a towel down over him. "Are you all right?"

Gabriel sighed in answer, leaning against him, every line in his body showing exhaustion. "I just fell. I was angry, and… What the hell's happening to me?"

Friedrich rubbed him soothingly. "The change is a difficult time," he answered quietly. "Your baser, animal instincts are much stronger now, closer to the surface; you will have to learn to deal with them, accept them, control them when it is necessary." He brushed the faintest of kisses over Gabriel's hair. "And you will. Come." He rubbed Gabriel's shoulder. "You should finish drying yourself and get dressed. We will speak more after, if you wish." He smiled and ran a hand down the side of Gabriel's face, hesitating for a moment before leaning in to press a real kiss to his lips. Soft and warm, but he kept it brief, reluctantly pulling back, keeping things light for the moment. "The bathroom, half-dressed, is not the best place for a serious conversation."

It took a good bit of his willpower to ignore the bewildered look on Gabriel's face; took all of it to ignore the way he unconsciously licked his lips, that flicker of tongue just begging to be captured. He wrapped an arm around Gabriel and led him into the bedroom. "Take deep breaths, Gabriel. Be conscious of your emotions, accept them, and it will be easier. I will meet you downstairs when you are ready." He smiled. "And I will have more coffee, I promise!"

Smiling wanly at the teasing, Gabriel sat on the bed, drying himself, trying to get a bit calmer. And succeeding for the most part, to his relief. He hung his towel in the bathroom and wandered back out, ruffling his damp hair to dry it further. Which was when he realized he had no idea where his clothes were. Well, he couldn't just walk through the whole building like this!

Not that Friedrich would probably mind. Gabriel's thumb rubbed over his lips as he remembered. The second kiss in as many days, and he couldn't deny the attraction. Neither, it seemed, could Friedrich — so why did he keep stopping just when things looked to maybe get good? Gabriel sat back down, rubbing at his temples. Do I want things to get good? He tried to picture how it might go, and certain parts of him definitely showed their interest. Yeah, but werewolves live how long? That'd be a hell of a commitment. I don't do commitments! He grimaced at himself. Who the hell am I kidding? Kind of already got one, don't I? We're stuck with each other, sex or not, unless…

Unless he found some kind of cure. Or… He couldn't stop the guilty thought that flitted through his mind. Or I kill Friedrich. He stomped on it, hard. He'd had too few friends in his life, maybe, but he was reasonably sure trying to kill them wasn't part of the deal.

Didn't stop you considering it at first, he reproved himself.

I wasn't in my right mind, then, he scowled back. I was hurting, and I'd just found out, and I was half delirious. I'll keep looking for a cure; there's gotta be something. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get him to try it with me. But he's my friend, and I'm damned if I'm gonna hurt him!

With a stubborn set of his jaw, he gave up on the whole train of thought, and stood up again and looked around for his clothes. Which brought him right back to the whole "naked" thing. And those interested parts of him just got more interested. Damn; definitely not going out there like this! Down, boy. Hard enough to think straight without you helping. He blinked and laughed at his unintentional pun. Think straight? Who'm I kidding? Still, there was always the Oscar Wilde school of thought on that, which did have its points. Give in, get the wondering over, think after. He chuckled, the sound almost a growl. Yeah, that definitely had its points. Why over-think it? He wanted it, Friedrich wanted it; the rest could wait.

Not finding his clothes, he rifled Friedrich's wardrobe, eventually finding a clean pair of jeans. They'd be too long and a bit tight in the waist, but probably better than putting his own back on anyway, wherever they were. He tossed them on the bed, looking further, rolling his eyes at the choices. Maybe naked was out of the question, but he could and would get away without borrowing another one of Friedrich's fancy shirts. And since his only shirt was apparently unsalvageable — he grinned. Well, half-naked wasn't out of the question, was it? With a mock-fatalistic shrug, he realized he had no clean underwear, either. Oh, well. He pulled on the jeans and smoothed them down, running a hand through his hair.

As he turned to leave, a glint of gold caught his eye, and he stopped at the sight of the Schattenjäger talisman hanging on one post of the bed. Guiltily, he realized that he'd completely forgotten about it, and hadn't even noticed it this morning. Some Schattenjäger I'm turning out to be. Bet my dagger's around here somewhere, too.

Stubbornly, though, he left the talisman where it was. Nothing's gonna come at me in the lodge, and the damn thing's heavy. And besides, he snorted to himself, it really ain't sexy. Make me look like some disco reject if I wear it bare-chested.

He closed the bedroom door firmly behind him and headed off to stalk his first prey of the day.

Friedrich turned from building up the fire at the sound of Gabriel descending the stairs. He drank in the sight of the man's half-clothed body, and reminded himself forcefully of his very good reasons for not just giving into his instinct to throw the man down and have his way with him.

He ran his eyes over that magnificent body once again, noting both the overly casual stance and the slight smirk. Which would be decidedly easier, he thought wryly, if Gabriel weren't so determined to be thrown down.

Still, he had learned the hard way that interest did not always equal intent, particularly at a time like this. Simply because the man was a tease, it did not mean that he actually wanted to be ravished on the lodge floor, or anywhere else for that matter. Nodding and smiling politely back, he turned back to the fire before it went out, speaking over his shoulder.

"There is sausage and eggs in the kitchen, if you'd like, although it is past noon."

Gabriel flopped heavily into the armchair behind him. "I'm not hungry."

Friedrich startled at something in the corner of his vision, then the weight of a large, bare foot settled on his shoulder.

"Gabriel."

"Yes?" He sounded far too smug and mischievous.

"Do you mind?" He stared at the foot pointedly.

"Not at all." The laughter was plainly there now, and the foot did not move.

Friedrich turned without rising, to find Gabriel sprawled across the armchair, one leg hooked over the side. The other, ejected from his shoulder, came to rest in his lap. The already snug denim of what he recognized as his own jeans pulled tightly across Gabriel's ample assets, leaving little to the imagination.

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before opening them again, being sure to focus on Gabriel's face this time. Too soon. He is still learning to deal with the physical demands of the Gift; it is too soon for this.

Unfortunately, as he restated his good intentions, the foot in his lap ghosted across his burgeoning erection, firming it and causing his stern gaze to be a touch more interested than was effective.

Gabriel chuckled. "There somethin' you want, Friedrich?" The foot brushed him again, and it belatedly occurred to him to place it firmly on the floor where it belonged.

"Gabriel," he cautioned, his voice husky, "Do you really feel that now is the best time to begin this?"

Gabriel's eyes twinkled. "Begin it? Am I beginning something, Friedrich?" He leaned forward, his face inches from Friedrich's. "I thought you did that, a couple months ago. It's not every guy gives a friend his girl, then comes to check out the aftermath."

Friedrich blinked. "You were awake!" he accused. He shook his head, laughing at the pair of them. "You, Gabriel, are a devious man."

"I'm not the only one." The scowl Gabriel gave him was decidedly unsexy, and he leaned back in his chair again. It gave Friedrich a lovely view, even as it broke the mood a bit. Gabriel sighed, slumped, and waved between them. "What're we doing here, Friedrich?"

Standing and brushing his pants off, Friedrich sat on the couch, reaching out to put a hand on Gabriel's arm. "Many things. Perhaps too many all at once, I think." He smiled ruefully. "Anger is not the only feeling made more intense by the change, you know. Perhaps some decisions are best left for a time."

Gabriel blinked. "I hadn't thought about that," he admitted. Damn. How much of this is me, and how much is…all this shit? And how much does it matter, anyway? He sucked in a breath. Hell, sex shouldn't be this complicated! Parts of his body still insisted it wasn't, but he took another deep breath, ignoring them as best he could. Think with the right head, Gabriel. "So, what does that mean, anyway?" And the anger was there again, and his lack of control made him angrier, and his breath came fast as he tried to fight it down.

Then Friedrich was leaning forward, and his hand curved around Gabriel's shoulders, gripping firmly, and the anger faltered. He focussed on that hand like an anchor, closing his eyes, his breath shuddering in and out until he had his emotions controlled again.

He glanced over at Friedrich and nodded. "Thanks." He frowned. "How do you do that, anyway?"

"Do?" Friedrich looked at him enquiringly.

"That." Gabriel waved vaguely. "Just…make it go away."

"The anger, you mean?" Friedrich shook his head. "I'm not. You are doing it, Gabriel." He sounded proud, and his smile was warm.

Gabriel frowned in thought. "Yeah…maybe…okay. But still. You grab me, and.." He waved a hand vaguely, at a loss for words to describe how totally that hand commanded his attention, made his out-of-control emotions easier to deal with.

Friedrich simply shrugged. "It is the wolf in you, Gabriel. And the wolf in me," he clarified. "The alpha wolf is leader of the pack. It is…a kind of reminder, or reproof, to hold another wolf like that." He took Gabriel's hand, his voice soft but intense. "There is no shame or wrong here, Gabriel. But it speaks to the wolf on the same level as these emotions, these instincts. It demands your attention, yes? And once you have another thought, another feeling, the rest is easier."

Gabriel nodded, but couldn't help a suspicious scowl. And that's all there is to it? "And when I do do something you don't approve of, are you still gonna use that against me?" I'm my own person, I won't just be…dominated like that!

To his surprise, Friedrich laughed. "I may," he acknowledged, "for what good it would do me! You are a remarkably stubborn man, Gabriel."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Gabriel drawled. He still wasn't entirely sure about the whole thing, but Friedrich's reaction eased his worries a little.

"As it was intended. For the most part." Friedrich smiled at Gabriel, squeezing his hand, then grew serious. "Make no mistake; I will do what I can and I must to keep you from danger, or from doing things I truly believe you will regret. But as you may recall," he grimaced, "my will over another wolf is far from absolute."

Gabriel shifted uneasily at the reminder of von Zell, not at all sure what to say. He turned his hand tentatively in Friedrich's, offering what comfort he could.

Friedrich smiled at him, and those "other emotions" started up again, damn it. Crap. Quick, think of something else! "Hey!" Gabriel grinned, relieved to find something else to focus on. "You said something about sausage and eggs? And I know you promised more coffee!"

Friedrich laughed out loud and patted Gabriel's arm, standing. "I did indeed. Come, then. Breakfast." He waved Gabriel after him, and smiling, Gabriel followed.

"I never knew barons could cook," Gabriel teased, grinning.

Friedrich just gave him an amused look. "I haven't always lived like a baron, you know. Anyway, it costs a fortune to have someone else cook what you hunt." His shrug clearly showed what he thought of that.

Gabriel looked up from his eggs, not sure if he should be suspicious. "If you're telling me these ain't chicken…"

Friedrich laughed, a sound that warmed Gabriel more than he really cared to admit. "No, Gabriel, your eggs are quite safe." Relieved, Gabriel nodded and went back to eating. "Although," Friedrich's grin was…well, wolfish, "the sausages are mostly venison."

Gabriel gave him a dirty look and defiantly ate a bite, then pointed his fork at Friedrich. "Don't think I'm that easy. Just you wait — I'll feed you crocodile and crawfish. And okra," he added smugly.

"Do I want to know what an okra is?" Friedrich asked, his smile not slipping.

Gabriel shrugged. "It's a vegetable. Kinda."

"Well, if you want me to try it, I will." Friedrich stole a piece of his sausage, despite having sworn that he'd already eaten. He looked at Gabriel thoughtfully, for long enough that Gabriel eventually stopped eating and just looked back at him.

"What?"

"Is that what you would like to do?" Friedrich asked him seriously. "Return to New Orleans?"

Gabriel blinked at him, startled. "What, you mean now?"

Friedrich shrugged. "Once you have learned a bit of control."

It sounded like something you'd tell a kid, and Gabriel scowled in anger, his temper rising. Which proves his point, damn it. Gabriel fought it down and sighed.

Friedrich nodded, looking perversely proud, and prodded him toward his plate. "Eat. You can use the strength. So. I have told you, we can go anywhere you wish, when you are ready. Is that where you want to go?"

Gabriel hesitated, poking at his food, and thought about it. "I dunno. I think… I would like to see my gran again." He'd missed her before all this, and now… There was this irrational little corner of his brain that wanted nothing more than to crawl into her arms again for comfort. And she wasn't a young lady, either, and maybe she missed him, too. Likely, now he thought about it. But then, to go back there like this… "I really don't know."

Friedrich squeezed his hand. "You need not decide right now, Gabriel. We have time. Eat."

"I'm eating, I'm eating!" Thoughts of his gran brought other things to mind, though. Like the fact he hadn't managed more than a quick note to her in the last two months. And come to think of it… "Damn." He sighed, explaining at Friedrich's look, "Nobody even knows where I am. Folks must be worrying themselves sick."

Friedrich nodded. "Would you like to phone someone?"

"I —" Gabriel started to say yes, then stopped. Who would worry? His gran hadn't known more than "Germany" in ages; unless someone thought to tell her he'd disappeared, she'd never even know. There was Grace…

"Gabriel?" Friedrich was frowning at him, and Gabriel realized he was fairly vibrating in anger. Get it together, he chided himself. "Sorry." He took a deep breath. "I probably should let Gracie know," he managed to concede, "but I don't even want to hear her voice right now. She —" hadn't really done anything more than he'd wanted to, but even thinking about talking to her made his anger boil again. "I just can't." Another deep breath, pull it in. Don't think of her. Who else needed to know? Maybe someone who'd get word to… He stopped, nearly laughing in relief as the answer occurred to him. "Gerde. I need to call Gerde."

After a brief discussion during which Friedrich was amused to find out just how provincial Gabriel thought this place — certainly they had a telephone! They even had a computer, if he needed it — Friedrich led Gabriel to the den and hesitated. "Are you all right, Gabriel?"

Gabriel gave him a shaky smile. "I'm not sure what I should say to her."

Friedrich shrugged and reached out to rub Gabriel's arm. "Tell her you're doing well," he advised. "Let her ask the questions." He met Gabriel's eyes, his own gaze intense and serious. "Tell her what you think she needs to know. Listen to your instincts and trust them, and so will I."

Gabriel drew in a deep breath. "Thanks." He shook his head. "Damn, when you say things like that…" He pulled his arm away from Friedrich with a look of apology. "Better keep a bit of distance, or I'll never make this phone call." Friedrich chuckled, and Gabriel gave him a dirty look. "Now you're just doing that on purpose."

"Laughing?" Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him.

"Using that voice…Ah, hell, never mind. I'm calling. Just…go, will you?" He made a shooing motion. "Stop distracting me." Gabriel waved at him and picked up the phone, dialing quickly, as if he'd lose his nerve otherwise.

There was time for it to ring — enough time that Friedrich started to wonder if the girl would pick up — and then Gabriel tensed and licked his lips. "Hey, Gerde. It's me, Gabriel."

Nodding, Friedrich turned to leave, hearing a little as he left the room. The girl's voice was too distant for him to pick up the words without trying, but the tone was clearly agitated, and Gabriel winced. "Ho— hold on, hold on! Gerde!" Friedrich paused by the door, waiting to see if something was really wrong.

Gabriel took another breath and gave him a tight smile as the torrent of words finally stopped. "I can't understand when you talk so fast," Gabriel said soothingly. "Just go slow, okay?" He rubbed his temples with one hand and concentrated on the phone as the voice continued, more slowly but no less worried. Friedrich gave Gabriel what he hoped was an encouraging smile and left.

He was checking the edge of the roof on the south side — the squirrels seemed determined to find a way in, but he couldn't find a hole this time — when Gabriel found him. Friedrich watched surreptitiously as he approached; he was fidgeting, but seemed oddly subdued, and the look on his face…

Friedrich climbed down the ladder quickly, pulling Gabriel to sit with him on a rock at the edge of the steep slope. "What's wrong?"

"I —" Gabriel sighed and ran his hands through his hair, meeting his eyes for a moment, then looking away. "You were right."

"Yes?" Friedrich rubbed his back, waiting for Gabriel to explain.

"It… They did it anyway, you know. Even without me; I mean, they had a show to put on, sold-out tickets and everything. Full house."

"And?" Friedrich kept his voice soft, a feeling of dread beginning in the pit of his stomach.

"The magic, I think. It must've gone wrong." Gabriel swallowed and looked back at him, his eyes lost and frightened. "People started going crazy. I guess — that is, Gerde thinks, and me — it must've brought out whatever beast they had in them, and some folks… There was a riot."

Friedrich hissed and cursed under his breath. "Was there anybody hurt?" Or killed?

Gabriel sighed and nodded. "Lots of minor injuries, a couple major — someone fell or was pushed or something… Nobody dead, and it's a miracle. They…" His jaw set, and Friedrich pulled him closer, holding him tight, reassurance and demand to continue.

Gabriel sat up straighter, taking a few more breaths before continuing. "The police are saying it must've been drugs or something; they arrested Grace and the theater's manager. Gerde said they wanted me, too, 'cause my name's on the show, until they found out I was basically a silent partner." He shrugged. "They still want to talk, but she told 'em I was too sick for visitors right now. I'll have to…sooner or later…"

Friedrich carded a hand through the bright strands of Gabriel's hair. Practicalities first. "I will speak with them; I have a bit of influence. Will we need to have a lawyer for your friend? Preiss is very good, despite his reputation."

"I don't know." Gabriel's eyes sank shut and he leaned his head into Friedrich's hand. "They let her go again already, and they won't actually find anything to charge her with…I mean, she just put on a show, right?"

Friedrich nodded. "Very likely. But if you think it would help, I will —"

Gabriel shook his head, interrupting. "She wouldn't…she might not even want help from me, Friedrich; I doubt she'd take it from you." He grimaced. "Anyway, I've got my lawyers, too; I told Gerde to call übergrau in case they need him."

"Good." Friedrich sighed, smiling a little at the way Gabriel invited his attention. "I am truly sorry I was right," he said seriously. "And very glad that you came with me instead."

"Yeah," Gabriel agreed, but he didn't look happy. "If I'd said something, though, tried to stop them…"

"Do you think they would have believed you, Gabriel? Enough to stop a show with a sold-out house?" He shook his head. "No, there is nothing that you could have done."

"I could've stolen the score." Gabriel laughed shakily. "Or one of the chandeliers, maybe."

"I very much doubt it would fit in my car," Friedrich answered wryly, getting a brief laugh. "What did you tell her about yourself?"

"Hm?" Gabriel took a moment to pull himself out of his funk and focus on the change in subject. "Just that I'm okay. That I'm safe, and I'll come home when I can, and she's got enough to worry about right now."

"Which, naturally, will completely stop her from worrying." Friedrich shook his head.

"Huh?" Gabriel looked over at him, confusion written on his face.

Friedrich laughed. "You, my friend, have a lot to learn about women, I think."

Gabriel scowled and stood up, brushing off his jeans. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Gabriel." Friedrich tried to explain. "In telling her she has 'enough to worry about', you've told her this is something which will worry her."

"You don't even know Gerde!" Gabriel's scowl deepened further. "Maybe she's got more sense than you do."

Friedrich could fairly feel the anger and tension pouring off of Gabriel, and he stood, too, and put a steadying hand on the back of his neck, only to have it brushed off angrily as Gabriel turned to him, eyes flashing. "And you can stop that shit! I have a right to be angry if I want, and I don't need you or anyone else telling me different!"

"Gabriel." Friedrich met his eyes, his own expression fierce and cold, and after a moment, Gabriel backed down sullenly. "You must learn to control this anger. You are doing well; you must do better. If you are to return home, you will need to better learn to merge your human self and the wolf, to get control over both of you, before you do something that you will regret."

Gabriel paled. "What do you…I couldn't…"

"You could." Friedrich softened his voice. "You will, if you don't learn control. Gabriel," he cradled Gabriel's face in his hand and put all his sorrow in his voice, hoping to soften the blow, "do you think Garr wanted to become a murderer?"

Gabriel winced visibly and looked as if he would be ill. "No, I…oh, god." He took a step away and crumpled, shaking.

Friedrich followed him down and held him. "That will not be you, Gabriel," he vowed, and hesitated. "No matter what I need to do, it will not be you."

Gabriel shook his head, his voice muffled against Friedrich's shoulder. "You can't hurt me. Not without…" he waved in lieu of finishing his sentence.

"I have no intention of needing to, Gabriel." Friedrich tightened his grip, shaken by the sudden thought, I wouldn't care. He shook it off and firmed his voice. "You will learn. Come; we will begin. I will show you some of the things I have learned, and teach you to control the change."

Gabriel shook his head again, and looked up at Friedrich with an expression more tired than anything. "I can't…if I…" He sighed.

"What, Gabriel?"

"If…" Gabriel closed his eyes, not looking at Friedrich. "I feel like if I start learning to be a wolf, it's like I'm giving up on being human again. I still…I know there's gotta be ways, and —"

"And," Friedrich interrupted, his own fear and disapproval making his voice harsh, "if you want to have any hope of changing back, you had better not taste human blood, isn't that the way it works?"

"I…yeah." Gabriel sighed and slumped against him, and he took a deep breath, speaking more softly, though no less sternly.

"So, we're agreed, then. You will learn control."

Gabriel wasn't sure what he'd been expecting — Friedrich pissing him off and smacking him down for it? — but it sure hadn't been this. He'd been meditating — or something like it — for hours, just sitting in one place as Friedrich murmured instructions, tried to get him to focus on what he was feeling, or on being aware of the wolf inside him, or on nothing at all but calming himself. None of which was really helped by the fact that all he kept thinking was Damn, Friedrich's got a sexy voice. What he was feeling was horny, the wolf inside him was growling at him to just jump the man already, and calming down…yeah, not happening. Finally, he sighed. "I give up."

"Gabriel," came Friedrich's patient and amused voice, "you have given up five times already."

Gabriel opened his eyes and glared across at him. "I mean it this time. It's just not working any more."

"Are you feeling less angry?" Friedrich was smiling at him, clearly already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Gabriel acknowledged. Truth be told, he felt a lot better than he had in…well, months.

"Then it is working." Friedrich was infuriatingly unruffled.

"Yeah, okay, I get your point." Gabriel folded his arms. "But it's not the anger that's the problem right now, and anyway, my ass is going numb from sitting."

Friedrich laughed and held up his hands. "Very well, I yield." He unfolded himself gracefully and held out a hand to help Gabriel up. "I should in any event phone Munich and check on business. Meet me in the main room shortly, and we will take a walk; I'll show you the rest of the lodge's lands."

Gabriel shrugged. A few minutes to himself…yeah, might be a good idea. Pity it probably wouldn't leave him time enough for a shower. "Sure. I'll go get a Coke or a beer or something."

Friedrich nodded. "I will see you in a few minutes, then." He squeezed the hand Gabriel only just realized he'd never let go of. "You are doing very well, Gabriel." And with another hand-squeeze, he was gone, striding toward the den.

Yeah, so you keep saying. Gabriel huffed, feeling a twinge of annoyance. So when do I get my prize? Shaking himself, he gave up staring at Friedrich's ass and turned on his heel, making for the kitchen. Beer was sounding better and better right now.

The walk itself was rather boring, the lodge's "lands" consisting mostly of trees and dirt and a couple of large rocks. Gabriel supposed the scenery wasn't half bad, but he really was a city kind of guy himself. Suppose I'll have to get used to this kind of thing, though; don't suppose there's much hunting in cities. At least, not any kind I wanna do. He couldn't help a shudder. Heck, he bolstered himself up, I got used to Rittersberg, didn't I? If that's not about as far from a city as you can get…

Friedrich steered them around, pointing out various places, distances to the nearest roads or distant neighbors, and Gabriel only hoped there wouldn't be a quiz, focussing more on Friedrich's presence than his words, letting it soothe him. How any guy could be so calm and confident, especially with what he knew now was inside him… His respect for Friedrich jumped several notches. "How do you do it?" he blurted out, breaking a momentary silence between them.

"Do what?" Friedrich cocked his head at him.

Gabriel shrugged. "Be so nice." Friedrich laughed, and Gabriel realized how that sounded. "You know what I mean. I don't think I've ever seen you mad, or upset… Well, maybe a little flustered," he amended, remembering the first time he'd asked Friedrich about the Black Wolf, "but nothing major."

Friedrich shook his head. "I've had many years, Gabriel, to learn this control." He frowned in thought. "And I think perhaps it was easier, because I was born as I am. I have never known a time when the wolf was not a part of me, even before I was truly aware of it." He grimaced. "Which is not to say I didn't have some very hard times when I first went through the Change." He put a hand on Gabriel's shoulder briefly, reassuringly. "You will learn."

"You keep saying that." Gabriel laughed. "You know what they say about old dogs and new tricks?" he asked wryly.

"There are few dogs out there older than I, Gabriel," Friedrich answered in the same tone. "And I am learning all the time."

They walked mostly in silence after that; Friedrich steered them around to head back towards the lodge, and as Gabriel recognized the area, he started to ask why they didn't head back more directly — then he snapped his mouth shut, realizing why. That way's that cave, the one von Zell used. He felt sick just remembering it; avoiding that place was something he definitely wouldn't argue about.

He did his best to let the tension bleed out of him, to find the devil-may-care attitude he'd always been so good at, or the calm acceptance Friedrich had him working at. He wasn't sure he quite managed it, but he was feeling a bit better by the time they got back to the lodge. He washed up while Friedrich started on dinner, and watched as he finished; steaks, thank god, and not Wei\'dfwurst, or something disgusting like that. They made small talk as they ate, sharing stories and histories as Gabriel sought to learn a bit more about this man fate seemed determined to throw him in with, and Friedrich asked about Gabriel's family and the city he'd grown up in. And if it made Gabriel a bit more homesick, well, he'd just have to learn to live with it until he could make it back.

Gabriel helped clean up, and turned around from wiping his hands on a towel to find Friedrich eyeing him. "What?" he asked, a little uneasy at the speculative look.

"Come." Friedrich held out a hand to him. "We should undress."

Gabriel laughed, startled. "Thought you didn't want to do that yet?"

Friedrich just smiled and shook his head. "Not for that. It is almost sundown."

It hit him like a punch to the gut. "Oh, god."

Friedrich frowned and put a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe, Gabriel," he ordered. "Don't forget everything you have learned!"

Gabriel scowled back at him, trying to fight down the nausea. "That's easy for you to say!"

"Yes, it is. And it will be easy for you, too, eventually." Friedrich steered him out of the room and toward the stairs, and Gabriel let himself be led. "For now, concentrate."

Concentrate. Right. Gabriel fought to take deep breaths. Nothing you can do about the wolf part right now; might as well deal with it. That got him upstairs and undressed, then wrapped in a robe, before his skin started to itch and he sank to the bed, head in his hands.

"Gabriel?" Friedrich's hands were on him, holding him, and he leaned in close, needing the comfort and not really caring how it might look. Friedrich murmured to him in German he barely understood, his hands massaging the base of Gabriel's skull as the headache started up again. "Outside," Friedrich coaxed him, pulling him gently up, and Gabriel nodded, following his lead again.

He felt like a bit of an idiot, sitting on the ground outside a hunting lodge in nothing but a loosely belted robe, being hugged by a guy, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that when faced with the night ahead. The air was getting cooler, the light through the trees red with approaching sunset, and soon… He shivered.

"Gabriel." Friedrich shook him, and Gabriel turned his face into his shoulder, not ready to talk about things right now. "Gabriel," Friedrich insisted, his voice firm.

Gabriel sighed and mumbled, "Yeah?"

"Listen to the wolf. Do you begin to feel the pull of the moon?"

Gabriel balked, but Friedrich gripped him hard, and his voice held less request than order. He breathed in deeply, and tentatively looked inside himself for those feelings he was only just coming to label as "wolf". There was a kind of tug, like an ache in his chest. "I…yeah, I think so."

He could feel Friedrich's nod, and his hand moved from Gabriel's shoulder to slide his robe down. "Follow it, Gabriel. Give in to that call."

Gabriel jerked away, his eyes wide. Give in? He shook his head violently.

"Gabriel." Friedrich's voice brooked no argument. "If you want to learn control, you will have to accept it. And the change will hurt less if you do not fight it." Gabriel winced at the reminder of that pain, and Friedrich nodded. "The more you acknowledge that the wolf is a part of you, the more of you there will be in the wolf. That is the beginning of control."

"I — oh, god." Gabriel shook his head. "I can't do that, Friedrich! I can't just give in and —"

"You can, Gabriel. You must, and now is the time to learn." Friedrich pulled his own robe free, letting it fall to the ground, and for once, Gabriel wasn't even tempted by his body, too much of his thoughts focussed elsewhere. "Remember your calm, Gabriel."

Friedrich put a hand on his chest, and Gabriel could feel his heartbeat thumping against his palm. Calm. Right. That much, he could do. He hoped. He shuddered and concentrated on his breathing, the thump of his blood, and releasing the tension in his body. A touch brushed over his lips, and he opened his eyes to find Friedrich smiling at him.

"You need to stop kissing me unless you mean it," he joked weakly.

Friedrich chuckled. "Feeling better?" He stroked Gabriel's hair.

Gabriel nodded. His head and skin were getting that rolled-in-glass feeling again, but he did his best not to panic, and mostly managed it. "I don't know if I can give in like that, Friedrich."

"Try." Friedrich massaged his temples, and Gabriel leaned into the touch. "Remember, the wolf is you as well. Know that, and it will not be so frightening." Friedrich closed his eyes and took a deep breath; when he opened them again, there was something less human about them. It should have been terrifying, but Gabriel was riveted, watching as Friedrich moved back, his skin shivering with the beginnings of fur.

He'd never seen the change this way; the only other time had been when von Zell reverted to human form at his death, and Gabriel himself had been in such pain at the time…was this what it looked like? Friedrich growled, the sound hinting at both human and wolf, and Gabriel could feel that wild part of himself begin to answer. He gasped and hunched up as the prickling of the change began; he fought it automatically, afraid to feel himself slipping away, then whimpered and did his best to let go. Trust Friedrich, he told himself desperately. He's always told you the truth before, at least when he could.

It was like falling asleep, or giving in to the sensation of sex or a potent drug — he could feel himself drifting, his body taking over as the change began. He couldn't help but struggle with it, whimpering even as he did his best to let go. His headache spiked, and the pain shrieked through his body, his gasp becoming a strangled growl as his throat changed, and then all thought was mercifully torn away as the agony shot through him, muscles and bones realigning themselves as he writhed on the ground.

Sunlight pierced Gabriel's eyelids, and he groaned, bringing one arm up to cover his eyes. Right side cold, his brain registered, and he groped blindly with the other hand for the covers. After a fruitless moment, he grunted in frustration, gave up, and curled up around the warmth on his left side. Not alone finally reached his grey matter. Good, he decided.

With that first independent thought of the morning came the inevitable second. Coffee. The thought itself was enough to bring awareness a tiny bit closer as he considered the motor co-ordination necessary to actually get up and brew a pot, weighing it against the experience of the heavenly brew itself.

Hot coffee — warm bed…cold bed. Cold, hard…floor? He shifted a bit and grunted again as something poked into his hip. Huh?

Quiet laughter in his hair was matched by movement in the warmth he was curled around. Skin, he recognized. Person, he reasoned. Dead person if they laugh at me before my coffee. Never let 'em in my bed again. Or my floor. Or — He stretched a bit, feeling the rough surface he lay on crunch and give underneath him. Where the hell am I?

A cautiously opened eye showed the body he was wrapped around, and he registered by sight and feel at once the thick, silky hair on chest and legs. Male. He flicked his glance up enough to glimpse the face without being blinded by the sun. Friedrich. A synapse fired. Just like yesterday. He dropped his head back onto Friedrich's chest resignedly. Almost. "'Least you had coffee yesterday," he slurred.

"Well," Friedrich patted him on the shoulder, "we were in the lodge yesterday. If you can find a pot here, I will be glad to make you some." He sounded earnest and amused, as if humoring a madman.

Gabriel reluctantly opened his eyes again, the various sensory input so far coalescing into a suspicion he swiftly confirmed as he looked around the forest clearing.

He groaned and threw an arm over his head again. "Where the hell are we?"

The tilt to Friedrich's shoulders said he was looking around. "Not far from the lodge, I think. Perhaps half a kilometer to the west."

Gabriel sighed. "It's too early, Friedrich. What's that come to in real distance?"

Friedrich shook his head, his hair brushing Gabriel's, and his voice was amused again. "Amerikaner. Perhaps a quarter mile." Gabriel sighed at that, and Friedrich chuckled. "Don't blame me, my friend; you were the one last night who did not want to go back."

Gabriel wasn't even gonna ask about that one. Or think about it. Not without coffee. Which was a quarter mile away. With a groan, he rolled over and pushed himself up. Might as well get started.

A quarter mile felt like ten when you were naked, barefoot, and decidedly uncaffeinated, but after suggesting once that they change, Friedrich gave in to Gabriel's bleary-eyed glare and stayed human. After a few minutes of noncommittal grunts as reply, he even shut up about it, though Gabriel wasn't under any illusions he'd actually dropped the subject.

Gabriel made a beeline for the kitchen when they got back, not even caring he was still naked. He had the fancy coffeepot started and the beginnings of that heavenly smell by the time Friedrich showed up, wearing one robe and holding a second. Gabriel took it gratefully, bundling up, and Friedrich set about cooking while he hovered over the coffee. Only after he'd downed half a mug and groaned in blissful thanks did Friedrich dare to speak to him again.

"Feeling better, Gabriel?" He sounded amused and disbelieving, and Gabriel gave him the evil eye even as he answered.

"Almost." He inhaled deeply and finished his cup, pouring another.

"I should probably tell you it isn't healthy to have such an addiction, but I have the feeling you would refuse to speak to me ever again."

"That's 'cause you're a smart man, Friedrich." Gabriel started in on his second cup.

"In that case," Friedrich chuckled, "may I ask if you are sharing?"

"Maybe." Gabriel smirked.

Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him. "May I point out that you are using my machine and my coffee?"

"If you like." Gabriel couldn't fight the grin.

Friedrich laughed. "You are incorrigible." He pulled out a second mug and set it by the pot. "In that case, allow me to point out that I have made breakfast, and I will share if you do."

"Sausage and eggs?" Gabriel asked hopefully.

Friedrich cocked his head at him and shook it, looking at him in that weird, intense way. "Try again, Gabriel."

Gabriel blinked at him. Okay, so his brain was a bit more awake now, but still… "Huh?"

"You tell me what I have cooked." Friedrich nodded towards the stove a few feet away, blocked from sight by his body. "Smell, and tell me."

Gabriel groaned. "It's too early for guessing games, Friedrich!"

"Not a game." Friedrich crossed his arms. "Do you know how keen a wolf's smell is?" He shook his head again. "You could smell that if it were sitting where we woke up. What is for breakfast, Gabriel?"

Gabriel scowled, but he was already learning when Friedrich would give in and when he wouldn't budge an inch. Sighing, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then sniffed more tentatively, trying to figure out…

"Sausage and eggs." He'd expected those, so that much was easy. "And potatoes and onions." Those were the obvious scents, but… He frowned, and sniffed again. "Salt and butter and a bunch of spices…" Not important, but they were there. And… "Something green." He shrugged and opened his eyes.

"Parsley," Friedrich answered with a smile.

"Yeah?" Gabriel frowned; what, were they garnishing things now? "Not for me, thanks. How'd I do?"

"Very well." Friedrich squeezed his shoulder and nodded at the coffee pot. "I will take mine black, with just a little sugar." He turned to dish out breakfast, and Gabriel grinned and poured coffee for both of them.

He was eating already before he realized… He frowned at his plate, then Friedrich's. "Where's the parsley?"

"Hm?" Friedrich swallowed a bite, then smiled at him. "It is in the sausage."

"Huh?" Gabriel poked at the sausage, which he now saw had barely visible green flecks. "That's it?"

"That's it," Friedrich confirmed. "I would have asked you which spices and meats were there, but as you're clearly not a cook, that would hardly have been fair."

"But I — I mean…" I could smell that? He sniffed again, experimentally, and found the green scent from earlier. That was these specks?

"A wolf lives by its sense of smell, Gabriel."

"But I'm not a wolf! I mean, not now, and —" He shrugged, trying to figure it out.

"You are always the wolf, Gabriel," Friedrich answered, his voice low. "Just as you are always yourself, no matter which form you wear."

Gabriel frowned at his plate, trying to figure out if that made it more worrying or less. He wasn't even gonna try figuring out the biology of it, however much his brain insisted it couldn't work like that. It did, that was that, just another Schattenjäger thing, like people turning into wolves in the first place.

"Come." Friedrich smiled and nudged him. "Eat now, think later. Your thoughts will not grow cold."

Gabriel huffed in rueful laughter, but gave Friedrich a grateful smile. Yeah, thoughts would wait, he guessed. Too much of this at once just made his brain hurt.

Friedrich brought the empty wheelbarrow back and clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. "That should be enough for now." He'd been chopping wood for nearly an hour, and the intensity of his expression said there were faces and problems in the wood; Friedrich only hoped he wasn't one of them.

Gabriel wiped his face, letting the axe drop with a groan. "I dunno why you can't just invest in decent heating for this place."

"Wood is traditional." His lips twitched as he tried not to laugh. "How are you feeling?"

"Huh?" Gabriel blinked at him and shrugged. "Sore; what do you think?"

"And?" He got a blank look, and rubbed Gabriel's shoulder. "You haven't lost your temper with it yet," he pointed out proudly, smiling.

"No." Gabriel paused, then smiled back at him, clearly relieved. He waved at the chopping block. "I've been taking it out on the wood, I guess." He cocked his head at Friedrich. "That's what you meant me to do!" he accused, admiring.

Friedrich chuckled. "I did think you might enjoy this a bit more than yesterday's work sitting. Not that we will be stopping that," he cautioned.

"Well, I dunno about enjoyed." Gabriel rolled his eyes and pushed his sweaty hair from his face. "But at least my ass ain't numb!" He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. "Christ, I need a bath, though. Or a swim?" he asked hopefully.

Friedrich shook his head. "It will have to be a bath, I am afraid." Not that he had any objections to a bare-chested, sweaty Gabriel. He shook himself. Speaking of which — "I am going to phone Gunther and have him bring us some supplies; food, clothing for you. If there is anything else you would like?"

Gabriel frowned in thought. "Paper. And I don't suppose you can get an old typewriter, but plenty of pens would be nice."

Friedrich smiled at him, a little confused. "I have paper and pens in my study, Gabriel. And a computer."

"Well, yeah, but…" Gabriel shifted and shrugged, clearly embarrassed. "I want my own, okay? And definitely no computer. Call it writer's superstition."

Friedrich shook his head. "Very well. Are there specific requirements for the paper and pens?" Whatever this writer's superstition was about, far be it from him to go against it.

"Paper with lines, and black pens." Gabriel looked at him hopefully. "A fountain pen would be great. But nothing so old it's got feathers!" He laughed, teasing. "A new one. Doesn't have to be fancy, just work."

Friedrich made a mental note of it all, nodding. "Very well, I will tell him." He waved at Gabriel as he turned to go. "We can have our lunch after your bath, if you like."

"Hey, hold on!" Friedrich turned back to a suspicious look. "What kinds of clothes are you gettin' me?"

Friedrich laughed, then looked thoughtful, deadpan. "I thought perhaps some nice shirts, in pink. And pleated pants. Or perhaps lederhosen?" Gabriel opened his mouth, looking horrified, and Friedrich laughed again, waving him off. "Give me some credit, Gabriel; I have been watching you for some time now. Blue jeans and T-shirts, yes?"

Gabriel gave him a dirty look. "I never know when you're serious," he grumbled. "Yeah, thanks."

"You are very welcome," Friedrich told him, still smiling. "Now. Go on, get to your bath, and I will make that telephone call." He turned and started back to the lodge.

Gabriel watched him go and restrained the urge to toss wood-chips at his back. Pink shirts and lederhosen. He hung the axe on the stable wall properly and mopped his face with the rag draped over the rack, then loaded the last few pieces of wood into the 'barrow and headed back. He left it in the lobby and all but dragged himself up the stairs and to the bathroom. Friedrich's bathroom, he realized belatedly, once he was already naked with the water running.

Not like there's any reason not to go back to my own room. Of course, no real reason not to stay, either, was there? He climbed into the tub, his brain flashing on things it had been too asleep to properly register this morning — waking up wrapped around Friedrich, both of them naked. Friedrich's legs tangled with his, one arm draped over him. The smell and feel of his chest beneath his hand, his breath in his hair…

Damn. Still, if the bath wasn't the perfect place for this… And if Friedrich didn't stop being such a cock-tease, he was gonna burst, anyway. Reaching down, Gabriel ghosted his palm up his cock, keeping his touch almost as light as the lapping of the rising water, watching as the tub filled, waiting until he could turn it off.

Finally it was full enough, and he stopped the faucet and lay back down, groaning gratefully as the hot water loosened his muscles. He sluiced it over his shoulders and ducked his head, rinsing the worst of the sweat from his skin and hair, scrubbed a bit of soap over himself, then got back to the important things.

He stared at the tile of the wall, not really seeing it, his mind on other visions as he called up every memory he could of that morning. Friedrich beneath him, skin warm, chest and legs hard with muscle. Stomach soft under the back of his hand, legs coarse with hair and rougher skin against his own.

He tightened his grip on himself, stroking, those memories fueling fantasies — moving with Friedrich, pressing hard against him, kissing him properly, none of these half-chaste touches he'd been getting. He groaned, cupping his balls with his other hand, rubbing as he stroked faster.

"Gabriel?" The bedroom door opened, and Gabriel froze, then snatched his hands away guiltily. Crap! He looked down frantically, breathing a sigh of relief at the soap and sweat clouding the water. Breathe normally. Breathe.

"Hi." He grinned up at Friedrich as he came in the room, sure his pounding heart would be a dead give-away. And seeing the man in person wasn't helping his hard-on go down any, either. "What's up?" Please make it quick.

Friedrich sat on the edge of the tub, and Gabriel tried his best to ignore his closeness, moving as casually as he could to face him, not incidentally pulling a little further away and bringing up a knee to hide himself.

Friedrich smiled at him. "You will be pleased to know, you will have clean clothes tomorrow. And paper and pens."

"Thanks." Gabriel smiled back. Now please leave. "That'll help."

Friedrich cocked his head at him. "Will you be working on your next book?"

"Probably." He mentally threw up his hands and resigned himself to an actual conversation, trying to ignore his aching cock. "I was pretty well stuck before I came to Munich; maybe I'll be able to make a bit of progress now."

"What is it about?"

Gabriel shook his head firmly. "No telling till it's ready. Or nearly, anyway. I'll never get it written otherwise."

"More writer's superstition?" Friedrich chuckled, and Gabriel gave him the evil eye.

"Sort of. I'm not tying myself down to things, not making any promises till it's done. And once the story's out, it's different." He waved his hand, trying to explain it.

Friedrich just shook his head. "I'm not certain I understand, but I won't press you." He brushed a damp strand of hair from Gabriel's face, and the touch went through him like a shock, straight to those parts he was trying to ignore. "Perhaps it will be another outlet for your feelings, like chopping the wood."

"Maybe." Please leave. What was it with Germans and baths? First von Aigner insisting on his interview there, now Friedrich… Baths are not for conversations!

Nodding, Friedrich shifted as if to stand, and Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I will set about lunch and let you finish your bath." And he leaned over, his hand cradling Gabriel's head as he brushed his lips in a quick kiss.

Gabriel grabbed him, growling, his wet hand twisting in Friedrich's shirt as he kept him there, seizing him in a real kiss, pushing his tongue into Friedrich's mouth as it opened slowly but willingly. It tasted better even than he'd anticipated, and Gabriel wrapped his arm around Friedrich's shoulders, not caring that he was soaking him, hungry for more.

There was a hand on his chest and another in his hair, and Friedrich pushed him back, both of them gasping. He leaned his brow against Gabriel's, shaking his head. "Gabriel…"

His voice was hoarse, and Gabriel could feel the thump of his pulse. "Don't tell me you don't want this, Friedrich," he snarled. "I told you, no more kisses unless you meant it."

"It's too soon," Friedrich insisted. "You have too little control. If you decide later —"

"Screw later!" Gabriel opened his eyes and glared at him. "I want you now. It doesn't have to mean more than that. You think I won't like it later? Wouldn't be the first time I've done something stupid. So what?"

Friedrich's jaw set and his hand came to rest on Gabriel's neck, but his eyes were sad and his voice low. "I do not want to be something you regret, Gabriel."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, grabbing Friedrich's hand. "You won't be. This is my decision, and I'm making it. And if you don't get those fucking clothes off and get in here, I'm pulling you in as you are!"

Friedrich searched his eyes, frowning, then shrugged ruefully. "My shirt is already soaked," he pointed out. Gabriel pulled at him threateningly, and he put up his hands, then stroked his palms down Gabriel's face, making him shudder in reaction. "If you are certain."

Gabriel pulled him in.

Bathtubs weren't meant for two grown men. It was awkward and crowded, and the water sloshed over the side, soaking the bathroom floor. Gabriel didn't care. He was tired of waiting, tired of the teasing and frustration. Friedrich was on top of him, soaked cotton and silk sliding over hard, lean muscle, and he pulled him closer still, frantic for the taste of his mouth and the feel of skin against his.

Friedrich growled, a low rumble in his throat, and kissed him back, tongue plundering Gabriel's mouth as he struggled out of his shirt and tossed it to one side with a wet plop. Then that delicious mouth was gone, leaving him breathless, and Friedrich was sitting back, eyes intent on him. Gabriel returned the favor — Friedrich's hair hung damply in ringlets, water beading and trailing down his chest, and his dark pants clung enticingly to the curve and bulge of a fairly impressive erection. Smiling ferally, Gabriel molded his hand to that shape, rubbing over the wet fabric.

Friedrich gasped, eyes narrowing, and leaned back over Gabriel, pushing his shoulders hard against the tub and taking his mouth in a vicious kiss, as much teeth as lips and tongue. Gabriel fumbled for Friedrich's waistband, their hands meeting as they stripped him, and then his hands were in Friedrich's hair, tangling with the wet strands as he returned the kiss with interest, sinking his teeth into Friedrich's lip, shoving his tongue deep into his mouth as he tasted blood.

Friedrich's knee rose up, his leg pressing against Gabriel's balls and cock, and Gabriel let out a sharp cry, riding his thigh, the wiry hairs of Friedrich's leg scrubbing over his sensitized skin. He grabbed Friedrich's ass, gripping tight, feeling the hard cock pressing into his hip as they thrust against each other.

Friedrich's mouth left his, teeth trailing over his jaw to fasten on his earlobe, tongue flicking over and into the sensitive shell of his ear. Gabriel moaned in answer, leaning forward, nipping at Friedrich's neck, teeth pulling at the skin, fastening on to leave a mark.

He saw stars as Friedrich shoved him back, his head hitting the wall. Then Friedrich's hands were in his hair, fingertips soothing the hurt even as he tugged the wet strands at the nape of his neck, pulling his head back to get at his neck. Gabriel's pulse quickened in excitement and primal fear, and he scrabbled at the wet skin of Friedrich's back, short nails digging in as he fought for purchase, demanded more pressure and speed, riding his leg hard as Friedrich left bite marks and welts on his neck, each one a spark of pain and pleasure.

Then Friedrich wrapped his arms around Gabriel's back and hauled him closer, lifting him, and one hand was clutching his ass while the other still pulled at his hair, and Friedrich's teeth were in his neck, and he thrust frantically against him, feeling the smooth glide of wet skin and the rough scrape of hair, and he was coming, his brain whiting out, his last thought, Just like that.

He was aware of Friedrich still moving, of the growling voice in his ear, and he tried to focus, still floating in the aftermath. He tightened his limp arms around Friedrich and gasped as his still too-sensitive cock pressed against Friedrich's stomach. Then Friedrich was pushing at him, and he let himself be arranged, his legs pushed down and together, his thighs clamping around Friedrich's cock as he continued thrusting. Gabriel opened his eyes, to be caught, breathless, by the look on Friedrich's face. Fierce and wild and determined, with a hint of yearning behind it all, and Gabriel just held him, letting him move, tightening his legs as best he could, grunting his encouragement.

It wasn't long before Friedrich's eyes glazed over, going unfocussed, and his rhythm faltered, then sped up, then stopped as his climax overcame him. The water around Gabriel's thighs became warmer, slick with Friedrich's seed, and the look on his face softened. His expression was…peaceful. Joyous. Possessive, somehow. It touched Gabriel in ways he wasn't quite sure he could put into words yet, let alone deal with, and his heart seemed to stop for a moment. What now? Damn. That put a whole new spin on things, and Gabriel just lay there, holding loosely to Friedrich while he waited, hoping one of them would manage to say something that would make this whole damn thing just a little less awkward.

Friedrich took a deep breath and slid to one side in the tub to drape himself loosely over Gabriel without crushing him. He could hear Gabriel's breathing, fast and ragged, and smell the scent of sex all around them. After long moments of silence, he dared to open his eyes, seeking out Gabriel's. He had a faint frown on his face, and Friedrich did his best to rein in his disappointment. Still… He drew in another careful breath. He didn't smell angry, or even very upset. "Gabriel?" he asked softly.

Gabriel blinked and focussed on him, then gave him a weak grin. "Yeah?" His smile faded under Friedrich's scrutiny. "Hey, you're okay, right?"

Friedrich stared at him. It was so far from anything he could have expected… "What?"

Gabriel's throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he struggled to sit. Friedrich leaned back to help him, the two of them sitting face to face in the tub. Except that Gabriel kept glancing away, his hands running through his hair, and he refused to meet Friedrich's eyes.

"I — oh, geez, Friedrich, I know I kinda — you did want this, didn't you?"

"What?" Somehow, there was something he was missing. "Gabriel, are you well?"

"Huh?" Gabriel met his eyes at last, startled. "Me?"

Friedrich softened his expression, doing his best not to seem as frustrated as he felt. "Why would you think I did not want this?"

Gabriel frowned at him. "Maybe 'cause you kept saying we shouldn't? And then just now, you seemed so…" He looked around as if searching for the word on the walls of the bathroom. "Serious."

It startled a laugh from him. "Should I be dancing and singing now, Gabriel?"

Gabriel looked at him askance, but seemed to relax somewhat, his grin this time a bit more genuine. "After sex with me? Definitely." His smug look was only a little spoiled by the uncertainty Friedrich could see underlying it. His smile faltered, and he busied himself with straightening his wet hair.

Friedrich reached out and stroked his face, breathing more easily when Gabriel leaned slightly into it rather than shrugging him off. "If you insist; perhaps later." He moved, and his feet tangled in something he realized was his trousers. With a moue of distaste, he pulled them from the tub and wrung them out, tossing them onto the sopping-wet floor. "Come." He rubbed Gabriel's shoulder and reached for the drain. "We should clean up." He pushed himself up to the lip of the tub and swung his legs around, but was stopped by a hand grabbing his.

"I don't regret it, Friedrich." Gabriel's face was determined, but he could sense no guile.

"No?"

Gabriel smiled and clambered up next to him. "No. I — no. Look —" He waved around at the bathroom. "Throw some towels down, and we can get it later." Friedrich opened his mouth to protest, and Gabriel's expression turned fierce. "It'll wait. Come to bed."

Friedrich grimaced, but there was something in Gabriel's expression — he needed this, for whatever reason, and after a moment, Friedrich nodded. "Later, then." He pulled out a towel for each of them and spread the rest from the cupboard over the floor to mop up the worst. At least it was stone and not wood.

Gabriel was already waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the bed and drying his hair, when Friedrich walked out into the bedroom. He sat next to him, looking him over, still uncertain quite what this was about. It was odd, after so long, so many people, to feel so at sea with this one. Perhaps that's why you like him, a corner of his mind suggested. He keeps you guessing. He couldn't deny that it was part of the attraction.

"What're you staring at?" Gabriel sounded amused, and Friedrich realized with a start that he was staring. He smiled and tucked a strand of Gabriel's hair behind his ear.

"You. I should say that you are definitely worth a look or two, but you already know that, don't you, Gabriel?"

Gabriel grinned and tossed his head. "Damn straight." He dropped his towel to the floor and turned to Friedrich, a flirtatious look on his face, and then stopped and sighed. "Damn. I need to stop that, don't I?"

"Stop what?" Friedrich shook his head, confused. "Cursing? I hardly mind."

"Not that!" Gabriel exclaimed, clearly exasperated. "I mean the —" He waved his hand. "The joking, the…macho shit."

"You mean the 'how wonderful I am'?" Friedrich grinned, teasing. Gabriel nodded, and he shook his head. "It is clearly a part of you, Gabriel; why should you stop now?"

Gabriel blinked at him and shrugged. "Every time I — you don't mind?"

"Why should I? Every time you —?" he prompted.

"Never mind. It's cool." Gabriel shrugged and tried to move off, but Friedrich held onto him, and after a moment he grimaced and sighed, but gave in. "Every time anyone wanted to get serious, they always told me to stop that shit. Which —" He glanced at Friedrich guiltily. "It was usually the cue to dump 'em, fast. Not because of that!" he added hastily. "Just…because."

"Are you certain it was not because of that?" Friedrich asked cannily. "I am not everyone else, Gabriel. Say whatever you like of yourself." He grinned. "So long as you don't start to believe it too much."

Gabriel snorted. "Thanks. I can count on you to cut me down, I'm sure."

"Very likely," Friedrich agreed with a smile. "After all, you are not the only devastatingly handsome man here."

It made Gabriel laugh, as he intended. "Yeah, and you know that without me telling you, too."

"Yes," he agreed. He reached out a hand and stroked Gabriel's face, then his neck and shoulder. "What I do not know, is why we are sitting here, instead of cleaning up the water. Or having more sex, which is what I had thought you meant. What are you thinking, Gabriel?"

Gabriel shook his head. "For a man who talks the way you do, Friedrich, you're the most unromantic guy I've ever met. Just after sex, and you're looking all serious and wanting to clean up?"

Friedrich smiled. "And are you telling me that you reach for flowers after, Gabriel?"

"No." Gabriel scowled at him. "I don't mean that. I just…" He waved and grimaced. Then sighed and collapsed to the bed, staring at the ceiling. Friedrich waited.

After a moment, Gabriel stirred. "What we just did — usually after, I zip up and go back to the club. It never means anything. And I don't regret any — well, most of it, anyway." He glanced at Friedrich. "But…I know you don't want that. It can't be like that, can it, between us?" His gaze was knowing.

Friedrich looked back, doing his best to give away nothing of the hope or the dread he was feeling. It was one thing he'd learned over the years to be very good at. "I thought you wanted it to be. It's only sex; it doesn't need to mean anything."

It earned him a dirty look. "And you think that'll work."

"No," Friedrich answered quietly. "But you did, yes?"

Gabriel shrugged, clearly embarrassed. "Maybe I was wrong. It happens."

Friedrich chuckled. "May I ask what brought on this momentous confession?"

Another dirty look; Gabriel was quite good at them. "You can ask."

He said no more, and after a moment, Friedrich shook his head. Let him have what secrets he could. "So then; it does not mean nothing, so you want to be more romantic?"

"I don't know!" Gabriel threw up his hands. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. "I've never had sex that meant anything. Except for this once…" He trailed off, lost in thought for a moment, then shook himself. "I'm the wrong person to ask about what to do."

"What do you want to do?" Friedrich smiled to take any sting from his exasperated words. "Gabriel, this means whatever it means to you, here," he tapped Gabriel's chest, "and here." He rapped his forehead with a knuckle. "It is what it is." He smiled. "Trust your instincts in this; do what you feel is right. That is all I ask. The 'macho shit' will not change what this means, nor will cleaning the floor, nor will leaving it for later." He gave Gabriel a moment to think it over, then patted his stomach. "Nor will lunch. Come. And perhaps a bit of work on connecting with the wolf after will help you to think on things." He stood briskly, and with only a token moan of protest, Gabriel followed.

Lunch went smoothly, and Friedrich kept the conversation light; he had many questions that didn't involve fraught territory. He had learned as much about Gabriel as he could through his sources, but they didn't stretch to New Orleans, and there was only so much they could tell him about the man himself — his family, his desires, his hopes and fears. He was learning that the more time he spent with Gabriel, the more layers of complexity the man revealed, each one a welcome discovery.

Gabriel, too, had questions — about him, his childhood, his upbringing. Sometimes, Friedrich could almost see him filing away the information with a Schattenjäger's calculation; other times, it seemed the genuine curiosity of a friend. He did his best to be as open as he could, sensing the importance Gabriel put on each reply, and steered the conversation away from touchy subjects when he felt he should not answer. Or, he did his best; Gabriel was incredibly tenacious when he wanted to know something badly enough!

Friedrich frowned at the direction of his latest questioning. "Why do you need to know, Gabriel?"

Gabriel waved his glass at him. "I've only seen what's in the books. And I maybe wasn't paying the best of attention." He frowned and fidgeted. "I need to know how much is real, how much I can trust what's in those books." He leaned forward, his eyes intense. "I need to know if it's true."

Reluctantly, Friedrich conceded that he could understand that desire. Still… He shook his head. "It makes no difference now, Gabriel." He stacked their dishes and stood to go.

Gabriel grabbed his arm, snarling. "It matters, damn it!"

Friedrich turned back, meeting Gabriel's eyes evenly, but Gabriel didn't back down. His jaw was set, his eyes flashing. "I need to know if I can trust what they wrote! What if I'd met your dad and killed him, based on what's in there? What if I'd killed you? I'm not doing this shit 'cause some backwater relative two hundred years ago says I should, then finding out they're wrong!"

After a moment, it was Friedrich who broke their gaze. He sighed, and put a hand on Gabriel's, sitting back down next to him. Damn. He grimaced. "Gabriel…" He shook his head, then spoke quietly. "I cannot say if you should trust them all the time. I should say, trust your instincts. I suspect you will tire of hearing that," he acknowledged with a quirk of his lips.

Gabriel snorted. "Sure thing, Obi-Wan." Friedrich glanced up at him, confused, and Gabriel shook his head, seeming calmer. "Never mind. So what —"

Friedrich held up a hand for time. He felt curiously reluctant, felt a loyalty to a man he could barely remember. Still, if anyone should know, it was Gabriel. "My father was a bastard." He sighed. "At the time, a certain…arrogance and callousness…was expected of noblemen. He went far beyond that." He stared into the distance, seeing again, blurred by time, the angry face of the man who had fathered him, and another, no less stern but infinitely kinder. "I have no doubt that had he been no more wicked than any other, he would not have been captured and burned as he was." His lips curved in something less than a smile. "He asked forgiveness from me and my mother, in his final confession, you know; I only found out much later. A pity he could never say as much to me in life."

The flames rose again in his memory, and he shook his head to clear the sight from his mind; some things, you never forgot. "You may safely trust Victor von Ritter on this." He squeezed Gabriel's shoulder. "From what I have known of your family, they have never killed wantonly. They are hunters, not murderers. As are you."

It seemed to be the right answer, and he could feel Gabriel calm beneath his hand. He stirred and relaxed his hold on Friedrich, rubbing the spot where his fingers had dug in. "Thanks. Sorry."

Friedrich smiled as best he could, pushing the memories away again. "It is no more than the truth, Gabriel. Besides, I suppose you may consider it repayment of a favor."

"A favor?" Gabriel cocked his head at him. "For what?"

"Not for you," Friedrich clarified. "For Victor. For your family." He met Gabriel's eyes calmly. "Consider this, Gabriel — he knew that the Change would be passed on to me. And yet, when he destroyed my father, he let me go. Helped my mother and me to leave Rittersberg, and to find passage from Bavaria, so that we would be safe."

Gabriel stilled and blinked at him. "I'd never thought of that." He tried to remember if the diaries said anything, but nothing he'd seen mentioned anything about this. Was Victor hiding it? Or is this something else Gracie thought I didn't need to know? He shook his head. "So, I guess even my ancestors never went by the book all the time."

"Maybe not." Friedrich shrugged. "I have never seen the books, after all; they are guarded jealously."

"Yeah, I've noticed." Gabriel laughed. "Couldn't even see 'em myself, till I'd proven my 'worthiness'."

Friedrich smiled. "Well, they have their reasons, I am sure."

Gabriel shook his head. "Whatever." He looked at Friedrich, curiosity piqued anew. "You mean you tried?"

Friedrich shrugged. "I spoke with several of the previous Schattenjägers, or their servants and assistants. I thought it best to know if any later generations would change their mind about me."

"Makes sense, I suppose." Gabriel eyed him keenly. "I remember, you said something before, about knowing who I was when I showed up."

"Well, you did hand me your family tree, Gabriel," Friedrich reminded him with a smile.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, remembering Xavier and the idiotic Hunt Club rules that had brought that on. "Man, if y'all weren't so picky about family lineages…"

"It is tradition, Gabriel." Friedrich frowned at him. "Family is important here."

"Yeah, I know." Gabriel waved it off as yet another thing he'd never get. Maybe it was a German/American thing. Maybe it comes of barely knowing your own family most of your life. His gran had been it, until a couple years ago. He hadn't even known his granddad's real name. And his mom's folks had disowned her when she married his dad. Some days, he had a crazy urge to pop up on their doorstep, waving his best-selling book, older-than-their-money pedigree, and goddamned castle under their collective snooty noses, then tell them to shove it. He usually got over it pretty fast. "I don't get it, but I know."

He let it drop till the dishes were done and the table cleared off, but his brain never stopped working at it. He watched Friedrich as the baron put the bread away and dusted the crumbs from his hands. "You probably know more about my family than I do."

Friedrich turned to him, looking surprised. "Well, I have met more of them, certainly. But you have their histories, the legacy they've left behind for you."

Gabriel shook his head, feeling suddenly very sober and just a bit lost. "You probably know more about that, too. About the Schattenjäger stuff, I mean." He blew out a breath. "I'm still feeling my way through it, most of the time." He snorted. "Still learning German, for one thing. And I still don't know half of what I should. Christ, maybe not even a tenth." Dropped in the deep end by fucking Fate and Destiny, and not a bit of help in learning to swim.

Friedrich put a hand on his shoulder, startling him from thoughts he hadn't even known he'd been lost in. "You're learning, Gabriel; that is what's important. And you will have much more time now to learn what you need to."

And that wasn't something he was sure he wanted to even think about.

After lunch, they cleaned up the bathroom, at Friedrich's insistence. Then made out a bit, at Gabriel's. He wasn't really in the mood for more sex just yet, but now that barrier was broken, he didn't see any reason to just let Friedrich drive him crazy without returning the favor a bit.

Of course, then Friedrich insisted on working on the whole "connecting to the wolf" thing. Gabriel shied away from the suggestion of changing on purpose, but stopping his whirling thoughts for a while and focusing on his senses sounded damn good. He even managed to relax a little. Which'd probably be easier if Friedrich would let me put some clothes back on. But when he suggested it, Friedrich only smiled that smile and told him if he could manage to concentrate with that kind of distraction, he was making good progress. Gabriel gave him a dirty look.

I hope he's horny all day! He scowled, then smoothed his face out again and took a few more deep breaths, trying for that focus Friedrich kept talking about.

It wasn't exactly easy, but he managed it more often than not today. It helped that Friedrich let him take breaks when he started going crazy. It helped more that it really did seem to be helping — he knew he wasn't nearly as edgy now as he'd been the last two months. It still made him uncomfortable, opening up to that raw nature inside him, but with every little stride he made — like paying attention to smells, or his hearing, or just sinking into all those wild emotions — it got easier, and bugged him just a little less.

Which, really, ought to be bugging him more than it was. He reminded himself, though, Do this, so you can hang on and not kill anyone. Don't wanna end up crazy like von Zell, murdering kids and all… Even thinking about that brought up images that had him verging on panic, and he took a deep breath and toned it down for the sake of his sanity. No killing, no human blood, or you'll never be human again, remember?

It made him feel disloyal to be thinking like that, his subconscious still whispering that he knew what he had to do. But he clung to what Friedrich had told him — a hunter, not a murderer. And he wasn't about to change that now. If he did, what was the point in the end?

"Gabriel." They'd been sitting in silence for…well, a while now. No clock in the room, and the semi-meditation killed any time-sense he had. He was getting restless, itchy again, and he stubbornly ignored it. He could beat this, he could. Deep breath. Relax.

"You feel that, Gabriel." It was less than a question. Friedrich moved closer, putting his hands on Gabriel's knees. "Don't fight it, accept it."

Damn. Gabriel sighed; another test. Reluctantly, he did his best to let that feeling out, to understand the antsy, itchy… Oh, crap. His eyes flew open and he looked at the window, already nearly mirror-dark from the overhanging trees and the dimness of twilight. When had it gotten so late?

Friedrich's hands tightened. "Don't stop."

Gabriel looked at him. You've lost it, right? But he seemed perfectly serious.

"Focus, Gabriel." His voice and eyes were intense, and Gabriel found himself listening, his fear receding a little. "Accept that feeling and move past it."

Move past it? The words gave Gabriel a ray of hope — maybe he could stop this thing. Heck, if he hadn't even noticed it until now… Nodding, he closed his eyes again. He could get past this. Feel it — like rolling in ants or running through sawgrass — and let it go.

Easier said than done. Be calm. Accept that crawling prickling pain. Damn it, how do you do both at once? He could feel the hysteria at the edge of his mind, and fought it down, even as he could feel the change begin. He whimpered, but the pain wasn't as bad as before; maybe there was still a chance…? He held onto that hope — accept, be calm, get past it — until he was shaking with the strain, body and brain screaming at him, then gave in with a cry, clinging to one last hope. It's still me. I'm there, it's still me. Friedrich, help me!

And he was there, a large, black wolf that his mind tagged as Friedrich. Gabriel wobbled and stood, only then realizing — the change was over. He was… Myself. He wanted to howl for joy, even as he shook off annoyance at himself for not stopping this. But the moon was calling, and there was prey to be had — only animals! he growled — and there wasn't much he could do but accept this, and there were more important things this night than standing on two legs.

Friedrich nudged the door open, and they ran into the night.

The woods were noisy and bright, redolent with a thousand different scents. He walked slowly, overcome with wonder. Was this truly the same place he'd walked through blindly as a human? He took a deep breath, sifted through the scents of grasses, trees, rocks — there was a bird, and there, a rabbit. There was water in the distance, Down the gorge, human memory supplied. He shook, as if that would physically settle that other part of him into this body. It was odd, unsettling, the memory of another body, another way of thinking. This was as it should be; why question?

Friedrich stopped and looked over his shoulder, then loped back to meet him, nudging his side. He returned the gesture without thinking, then shook his head again. Time enough for wonder later. Right now, that rabbit… He found its trail again and glanced inquiringly at Friedrich. Friedrich grinned his approval, and the chase was on.

As he licked his chops clean after and taunted Friedrich in play, he spared a moment to think — why had he been so afraid of this? And why should he ever want anything else?

Friedrich smoothed down his robe and belted it more tightly, then looked over the tray again — mugs for the coffee, cream and sugar, and an entire carafe; that certainly ought to do. He chuckled and shook his head as he picked it up and headed for the stairs. From Baron to manservant. Well, there was no denying things had changed over the years, but it wasn't as if he'd never fended for himself before. And after last night, Gabriel perhaps deserved a little spoiling.

Friedrich padded into the bedroom, almost as silent as his four-footed form, and slid the tray onto the end table. Gabriel was still asleep, naturally, and in his absence had sprawled over the bed, taking up the entire thing. The hair he was so vain about was similarly spread over the entire pillow, tangled and twined around itself in a stunning display of disarray.

How any man so clearly devoted to sensual pleasure should end up as a Schattenjäger… Well, Friedrich supposed he could only count himself lucky. As good to him as Victor had been, he could hardly see himself spending eternity with him, or any other of the Schattenjägers he had met. Only Gabriel. He reached out and delicately disentangled a few locks of hair, smoothing them down. Gabriel shifted and muttered, but gave no sign he was ready to wake yet.

Chuckling, Friedrich leaned down to kiss a patch of skin on Gabriel's shoulder where the sheet had slipped down. Mine, the animal part of him insisted, and the civilized part could only hope that it was true. It might be more accurate to say I am his, he acknowledged ruefully. As often as he reminded himself to wait, to allow Gabriel to come to him, it was at times difficult to hold to that resolve.

And speaking of times… He put one hand on Gabriel's shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Gabriel."

Gabriel muttered, hmphed, and curled more tightly around his pillow.

"Gabriel." Friedrich tugged the sheet down and pushed the hair from Gabriel's face, letting the sun strike him.

Gabriel growled and turned from it, slitting his eyes open just enough to give him an evil look before he flipped over and tried to go back to sleep.

"I do have coffee, Gabriel." He played his trump card.

Gabriel's look this time was suspicious, and Friedrich could see him sniffing the air. "'s still too early," he mumbled.

"It is almost ten o'clock." Friedrich poured a mug of coffee, added an obscene amount of sugar, and waved it in front of him.

"Ten —" Gabriel glared at him blearily and rubbed his face. He took the coffee and slurped it down, letting out a groan suspiciously like the ones he made during sex.

"Yes. So." Friedrich patted his leg. "Up, and get dressed." He poured his own coffee, added just a bit of milk, and sipped it as he waited to make sure Gabriel wouldn't fall back to sleep.

Gabriel groaned and thunked his head against the headboard. "Oh, god. This is the real fucking curse — I'm stuck forever with a morning person!"

Friedrich twisted his mouth and hid behind his coffee in an effort not to laugh. Trust Gabriel. And if he is joking about it, that's a good sign, isn't it? "Well, in this case, I think you will agree with me — unless you wish to face Gunther naked, you should probably get dressed."

Gabriel blinked at him for a moment, clearly trying to remember. "Aw, crap." He sighed and drained his mug, then refilled it. "How long've we got?"

Friedrich checked his watch. "About an hour now; I didn't want to rush you."

"Yeah, okay." Gabriel started in on his second cup, and Friedrich finished his and sat at his desk; he still had some papers to put in order for Munich. He kept half an eye on Gabriel, though, waiting for the moment he would be awake enough for thinking.

Gabriel finished his coffee and stretched, reluctantly standing up. He wandered to the bathroom to take care of business and splash his face a bit, his mind automatically putting things in place for the coming day and running over the previous night in his memory. He was almost done, the towel in his hand mopping his face, when he realized. Last night. I remember last night! He went over it all, just to make sure, and okay, yeah, there were fuzzy bits, but…

He practically ran out into the main room. Friedrich turned to look at him, and he was sure he looked like an idiot, standing there naked gaping like a fish. He finger-combed his hair a bit, trying to look more nonchalant. "I remember. Last night, I mean."

Friedrich smiled at him. "I suspected you might. You did seem much more connected to yourself, if you understand."

"I — it's still a bit fuzzy. Is that —?" He sat on the corner of the bed nearest Friedrich.

Friedrich looked thoughtful. "Well, it always seems a little…different, a little distant, to me. But not fuzzy, no. I'm sure you still have a way to go, Gabriel. Don't frown!" He smoothed the lines on Gabriel's forehead he hadn't even been aware he was making. "You are making amazing progress, my friend." His hand moved to caress Gabriel's jaw. "Better and faster than many; you are truly gifted, in many ways."

Gabriel shifted uneasily at the praise and grinned. "Yeah, I'll show you a few later. Not exactly enough time right now."

Friedrich snorted, but let him get away with the change of subject. "Yes, perhaps after Gunther is gone. Anyway, if you want breakfast, you can make it yourself this morning; I ate hours ago, and I must finish this paperwork."

"And here I thought I'd never have to cook again." Gabriel gave him a cheeky grin. He was a bit hungry, really, and he could still use some time to process things. "Mind if I raid your closet again?"

Gabriel kept mulling through the previous night as he rustled up some eggs and another cup of coffee. It was…odd. And stranger still that he could remember thinking the same thing as a wolf. Like… He fumbled a while and finally gave up. It wasn't like anything else he'd ever known or heard of, this being the same person in two different…what, bodies? Minds? Frames of reference? Will I ever get used to it? And from that disloyal corner of his brain, Will I even have to? Do I want to? He sighed, picking at the last of his food.

He could remember a lot of last night, and he didn't remember any insane rages, not even a hint of one — these were good things. But he also remembered — I didn't want to change back. For a while there, I couldn't see the point. And then his memory got fuzzier, a vague recollection of Friedrich all but bullying him back to the lodge. Is that what happened the night before, too? He couldn't get me to come back in, because the wolf didn't want to let go?

It had, in the end. He had. Whatever. He held onto that. He could remember watching Friedrich change back, their connection strong enough to help him do the same. Could remember it hurt just as badly as the other way 'round, was just as disorienting. Remembered — well of course, it was me then, wasn't it? Human me — trying to find his legs on the way up the stairs, as if he'd been on a boat too long.

But not the night before. That mean I'm making progress? That first night, though…we made it back here then, too. And he had almost no memory of that night at all. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. What did it all mean? Was he getting more control over the wolf, or was it getting control of him once he changed? The fact they were both him just made it even more confusing. And damn it, I bet Friedrich'll want to think about it and work on it more. Fortunately, once Gunther brought their stuff, Gabriel would have another option for working through things, one that had served him for most of his life. Maybe I'll even get another book out of it. One that'll sell.

He shook his head. Hard to remember why that was important, these days, but focussing his worry someplace else could only be a good thing. All this stuff that really matters gets to be a bit much. Karmic payback, it had to be, for thirty-three years of slacking off and not giving a shit. Yeah, now news-flash, universe — you don't have to get it all back in five!

Or fifty. Or five hundred, if he didn't beat this and he was careful and… Hell, I still could get hit by a bus, right? You never know. Somehow, that was a comfort.

He'd fed himself and dressed — even cleaned up his mess — by the time car tires crunched over the gravel in the driveway, and since Friedrich was still holed up with his paperwork, Gabriel headed for the door. And hesitated, hand on the knob, feeling stupid. Do you open the door for a butler, or does he just come on in? Do you offer to help him carry things, or… Gabriel shook his head. Screw it. Err on the side of polite, Gran'd say. And smack me upside the head if I didn't. They can chalk it all up to stupid American if they want.

Decided, he swung the door open and strode out, catching a surprised Gunther by the trunk of the car. The man did try to insist he could carry everything himself, but Gabriel cheerfully overrode him by just reaching in, grabbing a few bags, and heading for the lodge. After the third trip, when Friedrich took a couple bags from him, too, Gunther gave in and stopped protesting.

Gabriel let the two of them put the food away, sure he'd never remember where most of it went; he sat on the counter and shoved things into the cupboard behind him when they handed them to him. He amused himself by being as polite and friendly as he could, smiling nicely at Gunther every time he got near; for some reason, it seemed to unnerve the man even more.

It was interesting watching them; Friedrich seemed to be just directing everything, but once Gabriel started keeping track, he saw Friedrich was doing just as much actual work as Gunther. It's working, too — even though he's the Baron, Gunther's letting him help. I bet he doesn't even realize it. At least, Gunther didn't seem nearly as ill-at-ease with Friedrich helping as with Gabriel.

Gabriel smiled sweetly and tried not to laugh as Gunther handed him something, almost skittish until he was further away. He let his foot bang against the wooden door beneath him, and Gunther practically jumped out of his skin.

Friedrich gave him a reproving look, and Gabriel smiled back sheepishly; he really hadn't meant to scare him that much. What was up with the guy? "Sorry." Gabriel gave Gunther his best ingratiating smile, but it just seemed to make the man even more nervous. Exasperated now, Gabriel felt like shaking him. What the hell's your deal? He wanted to think it was just that Gunther didn't know him that well, but… He wasn't like this before, when I was over at Friedrich's. Distant, sure, but not nearly so high-strung.

An uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach now, Gabriel wondered how much of the last few days was written on his face. Does he know about the wolf thing? He remembered reading somewhere once that animals could sense a predator. Could Gunther feel something "off" about him? Did he come across as some kind of deranged killer now? He flashed on meeting von Zell, how the other man had rubbed him wrong from the start, put every warning he had on full alert. Then again, he was a deranged killer. Not to mention an asshole.

He looked at Friedrich, trying to figure out how to ask, but he couldn't think of any way to put it that wouldn't freak Gunther out even more. Does he know? Can he tell? Maybe it's not just him; maybe everyone will just sense it. All this about getting control, fitting back into my life — is it even possible?

Abruptly, playing with Gunther's mind was a lot less fun. Gabriel hopped down off the counter and gave Friedrich a tight smile. "I'm gonna go…do…something. Get outta your hair."

Friedrich frowned at him, but his gaze flicked to Gunther, and he let it go. "All right. Don't go too far."

Gabriel scowled. "I'm not a kid," he snapped. "I'll be fine. Besides, it's not like I'm gonna steal the car or anything." Friedrich started toward him, looking worried, and Gabriel sighed and waved him away, still irritated. "You finish. I'll be back." He left as quickly as he could without running.

He left the lodge, needing to get out of that suave, wood-paneled atmosphere. It was bright and sunny out, the brisk wind lending a bit of chill to the air. Gabriel stalked off through the woods, sticking to the open paths. Maybe a wolf could find his way back through the brush no problem, but sure as shit he'd get himself lost if he tried.

He grimaced. Lost was a pretty apt metaphor, too. Lost, out of his depth, and not sure of a damn thing. What the hell am I doing here? Stupid, fucking fate! Me, Gabriel Knight — the writer who took five years for an English degree. The bookseller who was happier when we weren't selling any. Why the hell pick me for Schattenjäger? He snarled his frustration in something short of a primal scream — didn't need Friedrich rushing out to save him from the trees. Then he laughed, and once he got started, he couldn't seem to stop. The Schattenjäger who's a werewolf. Yeah, Gabe, m'boy, the pattern holds true.

It was long minutes till he could collect himself enough to get up. He wiped his eyes and sighed, brushing the leaves off his pants. Sitting laughing in the middle of the forest, that's what he was coming to. The laughter bubbled beneath the surface still, threatening to come back up, and there was more than a tinge of hysteria about it.

Screw it. Nothing you can do about it right now, is there? No. You're the Schattenjäger, deal with it. You're a werewolf — he paused to shake his head at the surreality of even thinking that — deal with it, at least as long as you have to. Taking a deep breath, he nodded to himself and started walking again.

By the time he'd exhausted the well-marked paths and headed back for the lodge, he was feeling a bit calmer, but Gunther's car was still in the drive, so he wandered around to the stables to grab the axe. They could always use more wood. He eyed the horses as he stood in there, looking them over suspiciously, sure they were returning the favor. They don't seem to like me much. Then again, I don't think they much did before, either. He edged his way closer, trying to figure it out, calling up the memories of that first night here as best he could. They'd only been in the stables long enough to meet, make their plans where the others couldn't hear. He'd been doing his best to stay out of the animals' way while Friedrich loaded the rifle, and… Friedrich.

Suddenly, he felt like an idiot. Yeah, von Zell always gave me the creeps. Friedrich never really did, though. And the horses like him, too. And Gunther. It was a little reassuring, knowing it was just him. Or maybe even just Gunther. Maybe I'm not giving off serial-killer vibes, after all. Hell, maybe he just thinks I'm the Baron's newest boytoy and I'm gonna jump him if he ain't careful.

He rolled his eyes at himself and the hypothetical Gunther in his mind, swung the axe down off the wall, and headed for the woodpile.

Friedrich found him out there after Gunther left, and to his relief said nothing, just helping him stack the wood and bring a bit more in. "We should be well-stocked for winter," he proclaimed as they arranged it.

Dismayed, Gabriel looked at him. "We're staying here all winter?" Rittersberg was bad enough; the schloss at least had nice, thick walls and its own generator. He shuddered. This place, who knew what the power was like?

But Friedrich shook his head. "I hope not." He looked at Gabriel, considering. "I shouldn't think so. But it's good to be prepared."

"Yeah, I guess." Gabriel sent up a silent, panicked prayer. If we can't get back to New Orleans by then, please let him have a lodge in the south of France somewhere! Bavarian winters…well, he might be glad he'd have a fur coat.

Friedrich clapped him on the shoulder, chuckling, and Gabriel wondered how much of that was written on his face. "Cheer up, Gabriel. The fireplace keeps things quite warm. And you can almost even read by the light."

Gabriel looked utterly panicked, and Friedrich couldn't help but laugh, though he did his best to temper his amusement.

Gabriel gave him a dirty look. "And you got me pink shirts, right? I can't believe I keep falling for your shit."

Friedrich draped an arm over Gabriel's shoulders, steering him back to the lodge. "We have quite a good generator here, Gabriel. Should we need to spend the winter, we will be perfectly well off. As to the shirts, perhaps you'd better go and see." He patted Gabriel's shoulder and nodded at the stairs.

Gabriel nodded back. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you can pull these off," he plucked at the shirt he was wearing, "but I just feel like I wandered into a Brontë book or something." He headed for the stairs. "They in your room?"

"Probably," Friedrich agreed. Gabriel gave him a look he couldn't quite interpret, but turned and started up. "I'll meet you in the study," he called after Gabriel's retreating back, getting an affirmative grunt and a wave in response.

He was reading through the last few days' papers when Gabriel stepped into the room. He looked up and smiled. "There. You look more yourself."

"Feels a lot better, too. Thanks." He was back in his usual jeans and T-shirt. Boring, perhaps, but very much Gabriel. Friedrich had slipped a few long-sleeved shirts into the mix against the coming of winter, and was curious to see how long Gabriel would try to ignore them.

Gabriel dropped into the chair across from him. "They were in your room, by the way."

Friedrich nodded, waiting for something else, but Gabriel just looked at him. After a moment, Friedrich frowned at him, puzzled. "What is it?"

Gabriel sighed. "You said they probably were. Meaning you didn't know for sure."

"No," Friedrich agreed, "Gunther put them away."

Gabriel just stared at him.

Friedrich shook his head, bemused. "Is there something wrong, Gabriel?"

Gabriel flopped back in his chair, throwing his hands up. "You told Gunther. To put my clothes away. In your room?"

Friedrich looked back at him, a little concerned. "Well, no, I simply told him to put them away." He folded his paper and watched Gabriel, trying to figure him out. "You are welcome to your own room, Gabriel. I make no assumptions." If the man needed a little more privacy, it was hardly too much to ask.

"Aw, Christ." Gabriel hid his face in his hands for a minute, then pushed his hair back, pulling the ends, clearly frustrated. "That's not what I mean. Well, maybe it is. I dunno. I just — does everybody have to know?" He groaned. "You didn't even tell him where my clothes went — is it written on my face or something, 'I'm sleeping with him'?"

"Gabriel." Friedrich interrupted the torrent of words and stared at Gabriel until he met his eyes, then continued. "He very likely checked the rooms to see which was yours. He put your clothes in mine when he could see no other beds turned down, and a jacket in my room that is most definitely not mine," he added, a hint of laughter leaking through at that last.

Gabriel stared back at him, then grimaced and sighed. "Man, I feel like a moron."

Friedrich laughed outright at that. "You're going through a lot of new things now; it's only to be expected that they're overwhelming sometimes." He squeezed Gabriel's knee. "Is that why you left earlier?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Nah, I figured that one out. Well, mostly." He met Friedrich's eyes, his expression serious. "Does he know? About the werewolf thing?"

"No." Friedrich shook his head emphatically. "He has been with me for only a few years, and it's safer for us both if he does not."

Gabriel nodded. "So why's he so nervous around me now? He wasn't before."

Friedrich grimaced. "Before, you were only one of many acquaintances. Once we began spending more time together…Let's say, he doesn't have the best experience of my close friends, recently?"

"But I'm nothing like von Zell!" Gabriel protested. "What, he thinks just 'cause you like me, I'm going psycho?" He gave Friedrich a look. "What's that say about you?"

Friedrich winced; perhaps it said more than he liked. But still… "Garr was not always so unstable. He changed suddenly, and Gunther did occasionally face the brunt of his anger, when I would not tolerate it any more and showed him the door." He smiled sadly. "I am indebted to Gunther for staying with me." He put his hand back on Gabriel's knee. "Remember, he saw you the evening of your first Change. It may take some time to convince him you are not about to fly apart with little provocation."

Gabriel huffed in laughter. "Yeah; let me just convince myself first, right?"

Friedrich smiled. "It's only been a few days since the Change was complete; you're doing wonderfully well."

"Yeah, there's still times…" Gabriel shrugged.

But Friedrich shook his head, interrupting before he could start. "I don't think you realize how well you are doing. You'll see. And anyway," he patted Gabriel's leg, "we have a month now for you to learn more without worrying about the moon."

Gabriel huffed out a relieved breath. He hadn't thought of it like that, but it'd be damn good to have that much out of the way. Hey, you could do a lot in a month, right?

Friedrich smiled at him and held up a finger to ask him to wait, then walked over to the desk. Gabriel watched him, curious. Not to mention, he's got a nice ass. He tore his eyes back to Friedrich's face as he turned around, doing his best not to leer. The smile Friedrich gave him in return told him he might not have been completely successful, and Gabriel shrugged unapologetically.

Friedrich brought a box back with him and sat down again, but instead of opening it, he handed it to Gabriel.

He took it, curious, and turned it over in his hands. It was thick, grey cardboard, and heavy for its size, and he looked at Friedrich, wondering.

"For you." Friedrich just nodded at him, giving no indication of the contents.

Checking the sides, Gabriel found the tabs that held the box closed and slipped them out, then set it on his lap, pulled the lid off, and set it aside. He smiled, puzzled. Inside were a pack of black pens and several pads of paper — good stuff, and he was glad to see it, but… He looked more closely and realized there was another cardboard insert behind it. He took the paper and pens out and put them on the table, then tucked his fingers around the insert and pulled it out. Behind it were two more boxes, and he rolled his eyes at Friedrich, beginning to feel like it was a set of those Russian dolls.

Friedrich chuckled. "I didn't pack it; it comes this way. Go on."

The smaller box first, then. Inside the cardboard was a wooden box, and he realized what it was as he opened it — an expensive fountain pen, the kind he'd envied in stores since he was a kid, but never bought for himself. The barrel was black, with a delicate tracery of dark green lines, and the nib looked like — and he'd bet it was — gold. He ran his fingers over it, almost in awe, before he carefully closed it and set it aside, already trying to decide if he'd use it for everything or save it for special things.

One last box, and he lifted it out and turned it over, almost reluctant to open it. After that pen, how could it be anything but an anticlimax? He could feel a strange kind of tension from Friedrich, though, and that decided him. He lifted the lid to find a leather-bound book, and he grinned at the unexpected treat. It looked new, or at least well-kept, but what the heck had Friedrich found him? He hefted it and checked the spine, then blinked and went still as he realized. Gabriel Knight, 1994. He held it in one hand and flipped it open — heavy paper, the kind meant to last. All the pages blank.

"The Schattenjäger should have a proper diary, don't you think?" Friedrich's voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

He's worried, Gabriel realized, and he nodded, hoping it would be enough to reassure him. His mind was abuzz with a million different thoughts, and he couldn't quite manage to focus on any one. It hit him with sudden, terrifying clarity that he'd be Schattenjäger all his life, and that might be a very long time. And my kids, if I have any…I'll have to, won't I? Or there won't be another…except there's me, and if I don't beat this…And if I don't, my kids will…And I need to write everything down so they'll know, whoever comes after, or me, if I forget after too long… It was staring forever in the face, this crushing weight of knowledge and duty, and he was finding it hard to breathe.

A hand on his arm startled him, and he jumped from his chair. Once up, he couldn't seem to stop, and began pacing the room with a quick, jerky stride. He hugged his chest, staring unseeing in front of him, lost in his whirling thoughts.

He turned again, and Friedrich was there like that first night, stopping him, gripping his shoulders. "Gabriel."

But Gabriel whirled, batting his hand away, his teeth bared in a snarl. He pushed the hair from his face and turned again, finding the door and heading for it.

Friedrich beat him there, blocking his way. "Where are you going, Gabriel?" There was tension in his words and in the way he held himself, and his voice was hard, implacable.

Still snarling, Gabriel tried to get past him. Friedrich grabbed his wrist and held him with a grip like iron. "Gabriel!" He shook him, and Gabriel scowled and grabbed him in turn, his hand twisting in Friedrich's shirt as he struggled to move him.

With a sound not far from a growl, Friedrich dragged him closer, off-balance, and kissed him. It was hard, almost vicious, and his arms pinned Gabriel to him as he insinuated one leg between his.

Groaning, Gabriel pushed even closer, pulling Friedrich hard against him, and his hands tugged hard at the dark hair as he devoured his mouth. He fumbled at Friedrich's clothes, nearly ripping them in his haste, and Friedrich returned the favor, cloth tangling around them as it came off. Then their cocks were pressed against each other, and Friedrich's hands were clawing at his back, bruising, and his were digging into Friedrich's hips, and they fell to the floor, wrapped together, thrusting hard against sweat-damp skin.

When Gabriel came to himself again, they were sprawled on the floor of the study, and his first thought, irrationally, was, Damn, this rug is soft. He stretched, yawning and blinking, and made a deep noise of contentment that got a huffed laugh from Friedrich. Gabriel turned his head lazily to look at him, and Friedrich returned the scrutiny with a smile.

"Feeling better now, Gabriel?"

Gabriel rolled closer, leaning his head on his hand to look down at him. And yawned. "Feeling great." He grinned and stretched again, then lay back down. The rug really was soft. He could go to sleep right here.

Friedrich ran his fingers through the curtain of hair hanging over Gabriel's face, and Gabriel sighed.

"Gabriel?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?" He mumbled the words and made a show of settling deeper into the rug.

Friedrich tugged sharply on his hair, his voice firm, though it stayed quiet. "Tell me what had you so upset. Was it my gift? Was it a memory?"

"No," Gabriel admitted reluctantly. Friedrich waited — he could practically feel him waiting. He grimaced. "I was just thinking. About…Schattenjäger stuff." It doesn't stop, and I'm the last, I have my duty… "And…about the werewolf thing." What if it never goes away and it's always like this and… "I have…I have to, always…" He could feel the traps closing in again, even now, and he cast around for anything to distract himself with.

"Gabriel!" Friedrich grabbed his head in both hands, holding him there. His grip was firm, but his fingers moved in soothing circles through Gabriel's hair. He nodded when Gabriel focussed on him, and kissed him, softly this time, a slow reassurance. Gabriel could feel his heart beating fast as they parted, but he felt a little steadier.

Friedrich stroked his face and stared him in the eyes, that blue gaze every bit as intense as his wolf's golden one. "You are not alone."

Grace scowled at her suitcase as if blaming it for everything, and barely restrained the urge to hurl it across the room. Or smash the window. Or something.

Well, it beat crying in frustration. She glanced at her watch; she had maybe half an hour till Herr Huber picked her up for the drive to the airport. She picked up her bag, checked her tickets and passport, and left the bedroom. Every step seemed to drag, as if, if she just waited long enough, the phone would ring, and Gabriel would be coming home with her.

She scowled at herself and firmed her step, closing the door decisively behind her. She hurried down the steps to the great hall before she could change her mind.

Not that she really had much choice. She'd fought it with everything she could, even appealed with the embassy, but after that debacle at the opera house…

Gerde looked up from her work and gave Grace a strained smile, which she returned in kind, slumping onto the nearest bench. Her mother's voice in the back of her head berated her posture, and she savagely told it to shut up.

"Are you ready, then?" Gerde asked quietly.

Grace laughed humorlessly. "I'm packed. I'd only be ready if Gabriel were here and safe, and since that's not likely…"

"I'm sorry." Gerde spread her hands wide. "I asked everywhere that I could think of. They can be very strict about working without the proper visa."

"Wish I'd known that before we put on that stupid, useless play!" Gerde winced, and Grace sighed. "Sorry. I am. I'm just…worried." She forced the word out through tightened lips.

"I understand." Gerde's smile was sympathetic, and Grace simultaneously wanted to punch her and felt horribly guilty for the temper she'd been bearing the brunt of for two weeks now. "I worry for Gabriel, too," Gerde continued. "But we must trust him. He has said he is working things out."

"He said!" Grace's tone showed her scorn of that. She wasn't sure which pissed her off more — his running out after all they'd done for him, or the fact he'd called Gerde and not her. "He'll never do it on his own! He needs my help, damn it! He could be dying somewhere, or killing people, or —"

"There have been no killings since he …fell ill," Gerde broke in. She came around her desk to sit by Grace, taking her hands. "You know this; you have been watching the papers, as have I. Whatever he is doing, he has not given in."

"Yet." Grace grimaced.

"Yet," Gerde reluctantly agreed. "But you said yourself, the baron you fear is the Alpha werewolf, he didn't come to the opera, either. I think perhaps Gabriel is hunting him."

"I think you're overly optimistic," Grace replied bitterly. But then, she'd never told Gerde about the baron's letter. The letter that Gabriel had accused her of keeping from him, and that had been missing from her coat, along with the Ritter talisman, after he had left. Maybe Gabriel would confront the man, but she wasn't at all sure what would come of it after.

She checked her watch again and squeezed Gerde's hands. "You'll call me if anything happens? Or if you hear from him again?"

"I will," Gerde promised. "Someone will always be here, in case he should call, and I will let you know as soon as I do."

Grace nodded. She'd have to be happy with that, wouldn't she?

A knock sounded on the door, and Grace looked at it with dismay. "He's early." She still had ten minutes; Gabriel might call. Don't be stupid. She frowned at herself. It's not like he knows you're leaving. Or cares.

She grabbed her bag and walked to the door, smiling grimly back at Gerde once before she stepped outside. Herr Huber was his usual pleasant self, and for once Grace was glad of his distracting chatter. She followed him to the car and belted herself in, then watched the schloss until it disappeared behind the bulk of the mountain.

You are not alone. Friedrich had said it as a reassurance and a promise, and he did his very best over the next weeks to make them true. He stayed close, continued to help and train Gabriel and calm his fears; this paradoxically also meant leaving Gabriel the space he seemed to need, space he mostly spent locked away in one of the other bedrooms, writing. Friedrich carefully didn't ask if it were a new book or a Schattenjäger diary, and Gabriel didn't volunteer that information.

There would be time enough, Friedrich decided, to revisit that question once Gabriel had mastered control of the Change. And that, he seemed well on the way to doing. He was reluctant at first to actually try triggering the Change, until Friedrich put it to him in coldly logical terms.

"Once you know what it feels like when you're in control, it will be easier to keep it from happening when you don't wish it. You will need that control, to keep your sanity."

"Yeah, but…" Gabriel grimaced. They were sitting in the main hall, nude, and Gabriel had already tried distracting him into sex three times, once successfully. "Yeah, okay." He didn't look happy about it, but if he were willing to try, that was the important thing. "So, what do I do first?"

It took less than a week for Gabriel to learn to trigger the full Change. The afternoon he did, he locked himself away soon after, his dinner grew cold untouched, and he woke Friedrich by coming to bed in the hours before dawn. But he did come to bed, and Friedrich held to that even as he soothed and distracted him the best way he'd learned how.

Despite his early success with smells, it was harder for Gabriel to master connection to the wolf while in his human form. Friedrich couldn't help but feel the blame was at least partly his; it was something he did so instinctively that it was difficult to describe. They snapped at each other for a week, and at the end of it Friedrich was the one to stalk off, running through the woods on four legs for hours before returning to Gabriel with an apologetic kiss. Gabriel took it with ill grace, but stopped his writing after dinner to suggest they try again.

Gunther came to the lodge twice more, and Gabriel made himself scarce each time. The newspapers he delivered were already relegating the near-riot at the opera house to an episode of mass hysteria, though a letter from Gabriel's solicitor informed them of Grace's return to the States.

"I told you there would be no charges." Friedrich shrugged, fatalistic. "They can hardly accuse her of poorly thought-out magic."

"I guess." Gabriel tossed the letter aside, his face stony.

"You still have not forgiven her, have you?" Friedrich rubbed Gabriel's shoulders.

Gabriel sighed and leaned against him, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Not really."

Friedrich shook him gently. "It was no more than you were willing to chance yourself."

"Yeah, but that was me!" Gabriel frowned, and Friedrich could feel his tension as he sought to calm himself. "It was me, playing with my own life. I had the right; she didn't."

"And those other people?" He waved at the newspaper on the table. And me? he added wryly to himself. But now was not the time for recriminations, and he had already forgiven Gabriel on his own behalf.

Gabriel winced, looking guilty. "I never thought it'd hurt anyone else." He sighed. "Point, I guess. Maybe. But I didn't do it on purpose." He scowled. "And not just that, either. She kept your letter, Friedrich! Kept the talisman! I never even knew you'd written; I thought the talisman was lost again, and I never knew what to think about what was going on, and —"

"But you have it." Friedrich shook his head, confused. It was upstairs in their room, where it had been since they'd arrived.

"By accident." Gabriel's scowl didn't lighten. "She put her coat over me, that day in the theatre. She still had the fucking letter in her pocket! And it was open, too. She knew damn well what was in it, and she kept it from me!" He grinned now, fierce. "She's real damn lucky I was too pissed off about those chandeliers to remember, when I talked to her."

Friedrich grimaced. "I wish that I had known that. I had hoped the talisman would lend you strength, make your adjustment easier. As well as being a gesture of my good faith," he acknowledged with a shrug. He put his arm around Gabriel, speaking softly. "I wanted you to know that I cared for you, that I was not only using you."

"Probably why she didn't want me to have it." Gabriel snorted.

"What do you mean?"

"Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "She's never approved of any of my lady friends, why should you be different?"

Friedrich pierced Gabriel with his eyes, frowning slightly as a thought occurred to him. She put her coat over me. And who had cared for Gabriel while they were apart? "None of them?"

"Well, the ones who weren't too good for me were —" He rolled his eyes. "Actually, they all were. Even when she made snide comments about them behind their backs, or to their faces even, she'd tell them they could do better than me."

"And yet she has helped you, with the Schattenjäger work." He combed through his memory for everything Gabriel had said about the woman. "And before, with your shop."

"Yeah." It sounded like it was pulling teeth to get the admission. "She was a big help, I guess. Even though I only hired her as a cashier." He grimaced. "And I couldn't pay her for that, half the time."

"And yet, she stayed with you?" Friedrich probed; that suspicion was becoming more certain.

Gabriel scowled. "Yeah, okay, she stuck with me. I owe her; she's been a friend before. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Friedrich shook his head. "No, Gabriel." He rubbed his shoulder, waiting for him to relax again. "I don't think she has been behaving as a friend at all. Or at least, not only as a friend. I think perhaps she is behaving as a woman in love."

Gabriel stared at him, caught between hilarity and horror. "You're shitting me." He shook his head violently. "You have got to be fucking kidding me. Grace? And me?"

Friedrich looked back, seeming amused. "Why not, Gabriel?"

"You — Grace — she —" He threw up his hands. "She hates me! Personally, I mean. She's always getting nasty about my habits, my girls…she loves picking on me before I've had my coffee…"

"She followed you to Germany," Friedrich pointed out.

Gabriel shrugged that off uneasily. "Only when she thought there was a Schattenjäger case; girl's like a bulldog about that stuff." He rolled his eyes. "Last time, she ended up getting captured by a voodoo cult. And she gets on me about being careful!"

A chuckle from Friedrich interrupted him, and Gabriel frowned, then thought about what he'd just said. "She always getting on me to be careful," he repeated more slowly, horror dawning, "and trying to get rid of my girls, and she always makes the coffee in the mornings, and she's only really nasty when I've been with someone else or shut her out…"

He stared at Friedrich. "Oh, god." He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head again. "She's just being a busybody. And…and a friend; it's got to be. You've got to be wrong!"

Friedrich rubbed his back, holding him close. "I may be, Gabriel. You know the woman; I have never met her. But sometimes, it is easier to see things from the outside. Perhaps it is a possibility you should consider."

"Consider and do what?" Gabriel blurted. "It's not like I can ask her, or she'd say it if she were, and even if…I don't love her, Friedrich! I mean, she's a friend, I do care —" He grimaced, the words pulled from him. "Yeah, okay, I don't know if I forgive her yet, but I do still care, I guess. But…" He sighed and collapsed back on the couch, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. "Crap."

Friedrich laughed. Gabriel gave him a dirty look, and Friedrich smiled back. "You don't need to do anything, Gabriel, except for maybe keep that in mind."

"I suppose." Gabriel grimaced. "Can we go back to working on things, or something?" Anything to get his mind off this. Besides, he was pretty sure he almost had the hang of it. He was feeling better about the situation all the time, more at peace with the wolf.

Which was the one thing that really worried him.

The truth was, compared to the thing with Grace — and god, he hoped Friedrich was wrong — even the wolf stuff seemed less complicated. Almost easy. Well, easier. His biggest problem actually doing it was that his brain kept insisting biology didn't work that way. You couldn't see like a wolf with human eyes, hear like a wolf through human ears.

Except he could. Not quite with the clarity of when he was a wolf, but far beyond what he normally could. Normal? Nothing about this is normal! He remembered Friedrich talking about his philosophy, how humans were so far removed from their nature. How they could do so much more if they reconnected with it. It was something like that, learning to feel the wolf inside him and use its abilities. Or change into it all the way.

It was still a bit terrifying, feeling the change take over, feeling skin and bones move in ways they were never meant to. And actually being a wolf… It was becoming, feeling, more and more right, the more he did it. The good part was, he could remember almost everything he did at those times, and he was learning to control his emotions a lot better all the time; he'd almost found his old equilibrium again. The problem was…well…

He sighed and tossed his pen down, focussing blearily on the pages before him. It had been a while since he'd written a book longhand, and he longed for his typewriter. It was coming along, though; he'd gone through all the paper Gunther had brought twice over, and was halfway through another batch. He rubbed his face and checked his watch. Almost six-thirty; he'd arbitrarily decided that was dinnertime, and if he knew Friedrich, he'd have stew or steaks or something nearly ready. He chuckled as he straightened his pages. Friedrich might be willing to play chef, but he didn't exactly have much of a range. Not that I've got room to talk, but man, I'd kill for a pizza, or some fried catfish!

Stretching, he stood up and made his way downstairs. He could hear Friedrich in the kitchen and smell sausage cooking. His senses were a little sharper than usual tonight, the wolf a little closer to the surface. Must be getting tired. He took a deep breath and clamped down on the feeling before heading into the kitchen.

Friedrich was standing at the stove, his sleeves rolled up as he stirred the food. He nodded to Gabriel. "Get the beers; this is almost done. You're a little early."

Gabriel shrugged as he obeyed. "Couldn't seem to concentrate." He set a bottle by Friedrich's plate and popped his own open, taking a long swig.

"We have glasses," Friedrich said pointedly.

Gabriel grinned at him and took another drink. "Good to know."

Friedrich shook his head. "American."

"And proud of it," Gabriel shot back, unfazed.

Friedrich snorted. He picked up the skillet and came to the table, dishing it out and sitting down. "Well, there is always tomorrow for writing. Or have you set a deadline for yourself?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Well, if I don't have something in the next month or so, you'll have worse than me to deal with — we'll be running from a rabid editor."

"And this is bad?" Friedrich laughed.

"That is the worst." Gabriel nodded emphatically.

"It is your book you're working on, then?" Friedrich's voice was mild and curious.

"Yeah, of course!" Gabriel blinked at him. "What else — oh. Yeah." He shrugged, uncomfortable. It translated itself into a crawling feeling under his skin, and he rubbed his arm, grimacing as he calmed himself again. "I — I dunno. I tried putting some stuff down in the diary, too, I just…" The truth was, he felt awkward writing in it. Partly it felt presumptuous — who was he to add his meager experience to the shelves with all the real Schattenjägers? Partly he couldn't decide how to put it all down without a ton of personal things that no-one else should be reading. Be nice to have a case without being a part of it one day.

"It will come," Friedrich said with a smile, and Gabriel searched back for the thread of the conversation.

"I suppose." He shrugged. "So, what've you been up to since this morning?"

Friedrich shrugged in turn. "I have been very boring, I'm afraid. Keeping track of my investments, checking the boundaries of the lodge…which is not very different, I suppose," he acknowledged with a chuckle. "I also read a little."

"Yeah? What're you reading?" There wasn't a huge selection in the lodge; not surprising, really, but if Gunther had brought something new…

"A history of New Orleans." He laughed at Gabriel's astonishment. "I know much of your family here, Gabriel, but very little of where you are from. I thought I might learn."

It was strangely touching. "You could ask, you know." They'd talked a lot about their histories over the nights, and it wasn't like he'd been reticent for the most part.

"I know that." Friedrich smiled. "But this way, I can get a larger picture. Something to put your own experience into a context."

Gabriel stared at him, frankly astonished and a little embarrassed. "Damn." He smiled ruefully. "And I barely even speak German."

Friedrich smiled back at him. "Well, you haven't had to, for the most part. You should probably learn, though. I will be happy to teach you."

Gabriel grimaced. "You can try. I'm not really very good at languages."

"Nevertheless." Friedrich looked at him pointedly. "If you are to live here, it will make things much easier. Besides, I can't imagine many of your forebears wrote in English."

"Actually…" It was one thing he's always wondered about, those old Schattenjäger diaries. "Seems quite a few of them did. Not all of them, or even all the time when they did, but so far… It's almost like they knew." He shrugged, still a little weirded out by that. "Maybe there's some things that run in the family," he muttered.

Friedrich looked at him keenly. "I trust you don't mean the knowledge of English. Gabriel, do you have the Sight?"

Despite his discomfort, Gabriel laughed. "God, you make it sound so dramatic, like something out of a bad horror film!"

Friedrich frowned at him. "What would you call it, then?"

"I don't know." Gabriel blew out a breath and sank back in his seat, his dinner finished. "Creepy-ass dreams and nightmares? I try not to think about it too much." He picked at his napkin.

Friedrich squeezed his hand. "I understand."

Gabriel opened his mouth to refute that, then huffed in laughter. "Yeah, I guess if anyone would…" His own gaze pierced Friedrich, in search of the truth. "You haven't always enjoyed being…like this, a wolf, have you?"

It was Friedrich's turn to grimace. "Not always, no." Plainly reluctant, he spoke slowly. "When I was a child, I did not truly understand what was happening to me. I remember it being quite frightening. And the more I learned, the more frightened I became. But also the more determined that I would not end as my father." That determination, grim and hard, showed on his face now.

Gabriel shook his head in admiration. "Damn. And you were how old, twelve? I'd've gone crazy."

"There were times I think perhaps I did," Friedrich answered quietly, then shook it off, speaking briskly. "And that is quite enough of that." He waved it off, and Gabriel nodded, not pressing. Friedrich patted his hand and tossed his napkin on the table, checking his watch. "Come outside; I have something to show you."

Curious, Gabriel stood and followed him out, laughing as a thought occurred to him. "Must be important, if you're leaving the dishes."

Friedrich chuckled, heading for the front door and steering Gabriel out into the night. "The dishes will wait until morning this time."

"All the way until morning?" Whatever it was must be good, and Gabriel could feel himself getting antsy with anticipation as the door shut behind them and the night closed in again.

"That is up to you." Friedrich walked a little distance from the lodge, pulling Gabriel along, until they stood on the gravel drive running east through a gap in the trees. "Look."

The moon shone down on the forest, illuminating it brightly enough he could see clearly, but the trees seemed quiet. He looked over it once more, stretching out his senses with frightening ease, not sure what he was looking for, but getting restless with waiting. He almost snapped at Friedrich, scowled to himself as he stomped on the impulse, then gasped.

The moon. The full moon.

At the sight, the wolf surged up within him, and Gabriel sucked in a breath, shutting his eyes and fighting it down. Friedrich's hand tightened on his shoulder, and he focused on that, on his body, as it was. If he can do it, so can I, damn it!

It seemed to take ages, but after a time, he felt steadier, and opened his eyes. He was kneeling on the gravel, and stood, brushing himself off, deliberately keeping his eyes toward the lodge.

He took another deep breath. The wolf was there, he could feel it below the surface, wanting out. But he didn't have to give in. He shot a glance at Friedrich, to find him smiling, and scowled in turn. "That was a fucking dirty trick to pull!" A part of him wanted to smash that smug look from his face, and his fists clenched, but he fought it down.

Friedrich ran a hand through Gabriel's hair. "Probably," he agreed. "But I wanted to see if you could handle it yet. I needed to know," he added more seriously. "It's something you will have to be able to do." He smiled again. "You didn't even notice it until I showed you, did you?"

Gabriel shook his head mutely, still a bit pissed. At himself as well as Friedrich. How the hell did I lose track of time? "I thought I was tired and edgy. I didn't know why."

Friedrich nodded, understanding, and leaned forward to kiss him, tugging the hem of his shirt up. "Come. That will get better with time. And since we can change safely here, let us. You will feel better for it."

Gabriel blinked, but didn't stop Friedrich stripping him. "I thought you just said it was good that I didn't change!" As if feeling Friedrich's encouragement, the wolf ran closer under the surface, his skin crawling, and he shivered.

Friedrich smiled and kissed him again. "No; I said that it was good you had learned not to let it control you. But since you can choose to change or not tonight," he nuzzled Gabriel's cheek, his voice a seductive growl, "and you very much want to," Gabriel shivered and closed his eyes, his mouth going dry, "why not choose to change?"

He kissed Gabriel more deeply, and Gabriel moaned into it, pulling Friedrich close, devouring his mouth. Right now, he couldn't say which pull was stronger — the call of the moonlit forest and the freedom of four legs, or the heat of Friedrich's body through his clothes, and the wet pressure of his mouth. And you shouldn't want either, a hold-out corner of his brain whispered. He shut it up firmly and lifted his hands to Friedrich's buttons, making short work of them and sliding his shirt off his shoulders.

"Shoes," Friedrich murmured, and Gabriel lifted each foot in turn to tug off his boots as Friedrich toed off his loafers.

Friedrich's hand brushed the hard bulge of Gabriel's cock through his jeans as he slid the zipper down carefully, and Gabriel hissed, stumbling. "God! I want —" And there it was again, that being caught between the two desires. He whined indecisively, the fine hairs on his arms rippling.

Friedrich pushed Gabriel's jeans down and pulled his own pants off, his eyes boring into Gabriel's and his smile fierce. "Why not both?"

The thought tore through Gabriel with a thrilling shock, and in its wake the wolf began to take hold, skin crawling and bones aching as they loosened their hold on his human form. Friedrich stepped free from his clothing, his eyes already glowing golden and his face shadowed and lengthening as he followed suit. Gabriel had a moment to think that they were each leaving two sets of clothing behind, and then the pain of the change took over.

It hurt less these days, or he was getting used to it. His muscles cramped and stretched, his bones popped, and it still wasn't pleasant, but there was a feeling behind it of almost…almost…there! And everything snapped into place as if it had always been meant to be, and there he was, and there was the black wolf that was Friedrich, and Gabriel shook himself, and stretched, and Friedrich nuzzled him and bit his ruff, and then they were off, running through the bright forest.

Friedrich set both cups of coffee quietly on the nightstand and slid back into bed. Gabriel was still sleeping, of course, and barely shifted as he settled next to him. Friedrich smiled and ran a hand lightly over Gabriel's hair. He rather liked that Gabriel was such a late sleeper. As fun as it was to wake him, it was also nice to have a bit of time to himself first. And these quiet moments watching him sleep were truly to be treasured. Gabriel showed no masks, no hiding, none of the worries that so frequently creased his brow. He did his best to hide them during the days, but they never seemed to completely go away. Nor did he seem to be hiding them only from Friedrich.

It was both a help and a hindrance, the mask of uncaring Gabriel wore so habitually. With such practice, suppressing and ignoring the wolf had come easily to him, almost astonishingly so. And in the years to come, if he chose to stay — Friedrich's mind shied from any alternative — it would stand him in good stead, learning to live among humans for so long. But getting in touch with that deeper part of himself, when he so frequently denied it…

Friedrich sighed and brushed Gabriel's hair again, running his fingers through the red-gold strands. Ah, my love. Your own self frightens you so. I cannot help but think that perhaps Garr has done us both a favor — had I known you better, I might never have had the courage to change you myself. Then again, Gabriel's strength of will was amazing, and more than up to the challenge so far. Had he known that, maybe…

Friedrich smiled and shook his head. They would never know what might have been, and it was not in his nature to worry overmuch about it. Perhaps fate did have a hand in all things, but he could only see that as a blessing. Whatever the reasons, the outcome was more than satisfactory.

Still smiling, he leaned close over that beautiful face and brushed his lips across Gabriel's, slowly deepening the kiss. After a few moments, Gabriel kissed back reflexively, sucking in a slow breath and murmuring as he came awake. Friedrich pulled back to see Gabriel eyeing him blearily, and chuckled. He kissed him once more before handing him his coffee. Gabriel struggled to sit leaning against the headboard and wrapped both hands around the cup like a lifeline.

"Good morning." Friedrich smiled at his grumpy-looking companion.

"No morning's good," Gabriel shot back blearily. "The whole concept oughta be shot." He slurped his coffee with a grateful groan. "Definitely unnatural. I'm the damned Schattenjäger, why can't I get rid of 'em all?" he mumbled.

Friedrich chuckled, but Gabriel drank his cup down, ignoring him. "You wake me up for sex, or what?"

"If you like," Friedrich agreed equitably. Only one part of Gabriel woke easily this early. He set his half-finished mug aside without a second glance and leaned forward to kiss him again. Gabriel grabbed Friedrich's hair and held him tight, giving back at least as good as he got. He groaned into Friedrich's mouth, one hand moving to slide under Friedrich's robe. Friedrich growled his approval.

Gabriel stiffened and pulled back. "Oh, god."

"Gabriel?" Friedrich watched him, alarmed. He looked as if he were having trouble breathing, his face pale. "Gabriel, what's wrong?" He turned Gabriel's face up to look at him, but Gabriel shook his head, seeming at a loss for words. Friedrich frowned, but sat back, willing to wait for him.

Gabriel shook his head again. "I need…I need to get out." He held up a hand, forestalling his objection. "Not…I'm not running. I'm not. I won't." Friedrich frowned, wondering which of them he was trying to convince. "I just need to go out, be alone for a while." Adrenaline accomplished what usually took coffee a lot longer — he got up and threw clothes on, wincing as he zipped his jeans over his still half-erect cock. "I'll be back." He met Friedrich's eyes squarely. "Soon. I promise." And he hurried downstairs and out the door before Friedrich could stop him.

Despite his words, Gabriel ran — not far or fast, but needing to move. A part of him whispered he could run much faster as a wolf, free himself from all this silly human complication, but he shoved it down almost angrily — that way was too easy; it wasn't dealing with anything. And it'll all still be there when I change back.

He threw himself down at last, panting, in a sunny clearing, lying on the grass looking up at the sky. He'd always found it easier to think — or avoid thinking — like this. Lying on the lawn behind Gran's house, or the campus quad, or in the park at Jackson Square. It was like being a kid again, carefree and selfish and not thinking past the next meal or game. How did I end up here?

He sighed. The grass wasn't the same here, the sky looked a different shade (less humidity and pollution, his mind cynically supplied), it even smelled different — and he could smell the difference. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Life had been a lot easier when he was sure he'd die young, and how screwed up was that? Now if he wanted it and didn't screw up, he could live forever. Yeah, nothing complicated about that, he sneered derisively at himself. Nothing complicated at all about trying to live with this wolf inside him, the things it could do, the things it — he — wanted to do…

He took a deep breath and tried to shove the memories of last night back out of his head. He snarled in frustration — telling himself not to think about something worked about as well as you'd expect. Damn it! Caught between panic and furious arousal, he banged his head on the ground, yelling out his frustration.

The wolf rose with his emotions, and he struggled to calm himself, shoving it firmly back down. And sighing as his further heightened senses told him something he probably should've worked out for himself. "You can come out, Friedrich," he called, not looking. "I know you're there."

The black wolf padded out from the trees, watching him, and nuzzled his face before changing back. Gabriel averted his eyes, still unnerved by the sight of the change, until Friedrich lay beside him. "Checking up on me?"

"I was concerned." Friedrich brushed Gabriel's hair from his face, and Gabriel shook his head, giving him an annoyed glare. Friedrich smiled back. "You are getting better; I had thought I was giving you enough room not to sense me."

Gabriel shrugged. "You're hard to miss."

Friedrich smiled broadly, as if that were the best compliment ever, and kissed him lightly. "So, shall I leave you to your thinking once more, or would you prefer company?"

"Not getting much thinking done," Gabriel admitted. Damn, and now Friedrich was pressing closer, and he was warm and naked and there was really no thinking happening any time soon…

Gabriel groaned and threw himself to one side, sitting up and looking down at a very startled Friedrich. And — Gabriel held up his hands for time before that worried look could take root. "I…look. I…about last night, Friedrich…"

Friedrich sat up and moved cautiously closer, frowning. "Yes?"

"I…" Gabriel sighed and rubbed his face, not even sure himself where he was going with this. "I don't want —" and damn, he couldn't really say that, could he? "I can't…If you want, again, I don't think I…" He gestured helplessly.

Friedrich shook his head, looking bemused. "Yes, all right." He looked expectant, as if waiting for the real problem.

Gabriel blinked. "Huh?" He shook his head. "I mean, you don't mind?"

Friedrich cocked his head at him. "Why should I mind?" He kissed Gabriel's neck, making him shiver. "Although I would hope to be able to change your mind some day, if you do not want it, I will not push you."

His voice, low and sexy, went straight through Gabriel, and he groaned, and didn't Friedrich get it? That wasn't the problem. And this man sitting naked in the fucking forest, for God's sake, who'd suggested last night to begin with, he wasn't likely to understand it feels good and I shouldn't want it. And damn it, when had he ever cared about "should" and what other folks thought? But there it was, and he couldn't seem to shake it. Hell of a time to discover your puritan hang-ups, Gabe!

Friedrich licked his neck, and he caught his breath. "What if…" He nuzzled Friedrich in turn, his hand wandering up his side. "What if I don't ever…"

Friedrich shrugged, and Gabriel could feel the smile against his collarbone. "There are many other things that we can do, Gabriel. Shall I show you a few more?"

"Not just…" Their mouths met in a hot, wet kiss. "Maybe…"

It was after noon before they headed back; Gabriel was grateful he'd chosen loose clothing that morning, and grateful too for Friedrich, who changed once more and paced him as a wolf, leaving him to the thoughts he'd abandoned earlier. Not that they were pleasant thoughts, but damn it, he had to figure out his own head sooner or later. Between the pull of the wolf and the call of his duty… What do I want for myself? How much of any of this is me? He sighed. And who says it even matters what I want, if it's all just some big joke by fate jerkin' me around?

He glanced at Friedrich, and there it was again — that voice saying he should just change, just ignore it all, live in the moment, and — He stopped, mentally and literally, dimly aware of Friedrich looking back at him.

Live in the moment, ignore the important shit, let it pass on by. Wasn't that what he'd done most of his life? Sure, the wolf part was new, but… He guiltily remembered the test when he'd become Schattenjäger, the things the dragon had accused him of. Never committed to anyone or anything. With a sigh, he started walking again. Face it, Gabriel. The wolf isn't calling up anything not in you already. And wasn't that what Friedrich had been trying to tell him? Maybe it wasn't always the nicest or best part of him, but it wasn't some strange demon possessing him. Get rid of the wolf, the rest'll still be there; just better hidden.

And wasn't that a kick in the pants?

It was another lonely afternoon, Gabriel locking himself in with his writing as soon as they returned to the lodge. Friedrich brought his paperwork into the bedroom, the door open for any sound from down the hall. As the sun set, he kept special attention, breathing in every scent for a hint of change. He ignored the rumblings of hunger, not wanting to leave his post. Just before daybreak, he changed and padded to the door; he smelled no distress, and his ears caught the furious scratch of pen on paper. He curled up in the hallway and half-dozed, waiting.

He picked up his head at the sound of the door opening, and stretched, yawning, as Gabriel blinked blearily in the brighter light of the hallway. "What time's it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes as he caught the yawn.

Amused, Friedrich changed back to answer. "Unfortunately, I've not yet found a watch that will fit me in both forms. Midmorning some time. I suppose you will be wanting coffee?"

"There's coffee?" Gabriel looked relieved and hopeful, and Friedrich shook his head, regretfully dashing his hopes.

"Not yet. Come on." He grabbed his robe from the bedroom and slipped it on as they headed downstairs.

They shared the silence as Gabriel made the coffee (and a mess of the counter) and Friedrich fried up eggs and sausage. The quiet was expectant but not awkward, and Gabriel leaned a little closer when Friedrich squeezed his shoulder on the way to his seat.

Gabriel waited for the questions to start, but the first one when it came was relievingly mild.

"Did you get much writing done?"

Gabriel smiled gratefully at Friedrich. "Yeah, quite a bit. I think I'm almost done."

"Are you?" Friedrich smiled at him. "I suppose your editor will be happy. I look forward to reading it."

Gabriel froze. Such a fucking idiot! He's read your other books, of course he'll want to read this one! And why did it seem so much worse than total strangers reading it? Well, okay, that was easy, but why so much worse than, say, Grace, or Mosely, or… He realized with a start that he didn't think any of his friends actually had read his books before. Not that they didn't know what was in them, but, You've done your best to keep them from wanting to read them, haven't you? Done his best to talk up the caricatures and unflattering portrayals he'd based on them, so they'd be less likely to pick them up, more likely to focus on those things if they did. And now he…

"Gabriel!" Friedrich waved a hand at him, sounding as if it weren't the first time he'd tried to get his attention.

"Huh?"

Friedrich shook his head. "You haven't heard a thing I've said, have you?"

"Um…no?" Gabriel gave him his best "I'm too adorable to get mad at" grin, and Friedrich snorted.

"I was saying, were you planning on sending it to your editor, or would you normally give it to him in person?"

"Oh, it's not ready!" Gabriel shook his head. "No way I can give him all the hand-written pages. I'll have to type it up first. Maybe get someone to put it on a computer or something, so the man can stop bitching me out about hardcopy."

Friedrich looked aghast. "Good lord, I could have simply bought you your own computer, if I had known!"

Gabriel grimaced. "No, thanks! I told you, I can't write on those damn things. Anyway, I think they hate me. I leave that to Grace." He said it without thinking, then sighed. "Or whoever."

"I had thought you were ready to forgive her," Friedrich prodded gently.

"Maybe. I dunno." Gabriel shrugged and finished his breakfast, pouring himself some more coffee. "Nothing to say she'll forgive me, though," he admitted. He'd been wondering — what did she think of him running off? Did she blame him for what had happened at the theatre?

Friedrich nodded. "From what you have said, I doubt that will be an easy meeting." He looked over the rim of his mug at Gabriel. "Perhaps a bit of practice first?"

"Practice?" Gabriel frowned, confused.

"Mm." Friedrich nodded. "Perhaps if you faced another before her. The other woman, Gerde — she is sure to be worried still. And Rittersberg is a good place to start."

"Start?" Gabriel could feel his heart beating faster. "Start what?"

"Gabriel." Friedrich gave him his "you're being an idiot" look. "You cannot live forever at this lodge, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but —" Gabriel stared at him. "When?"

Friedrich shrugged. "As they say, there is no time like the present. Though we will have a bit of packing to do, and we should have an early start for the day. Tomorrow, I was thinking."

Tomorrow had never seemed to want to come faster. Gabriel hemmed and hawed, tried every protest he could think of, but all that accomplished was that Friedrich's refusals got more clipped and his glare harder. Gabriel even tried sex, but while it mollified Friedrich a bit, he still shook his head.

"Gabriel. If you think you are not ready now, when do you think you will be? Do you think it will get any easier later?"

Gabriel sighed and rubbed his face. "I dunno. I just…" The truth was, Friedrich was right. The whole idea terrified him. What if he lost control? What might happen then? Even just having to face folks he knew like this, having to see how badly he'd let them down… I never used to care about shit like that. It never used to matter. It was almost a wistful thought. "I don't know."

"I do." Friedrich slid a hand into his hair and tightened his grip, shaking him lightly. "If you cannot trust yourself, Gabriel, trust me."

And really, when you put it like that…

They had agreed on one thing — best not to announce their presence to the entire village without having Gerde behind them first. After some discussion, Gabriel remembered the secret passage from the schloss to the ravine behind it. It would be a hike and a bit of a climb to get there from the road, but it would mean they could leave the Rover on a dirt side-street and sneak into his room, instead of driving through the town and up to the front door. And probably getting met with real torches this time, he thought with a wince.

It took longer to get there than Gabriel would've liked — it gave him too much time to think in the car. He tried to distract himself by thinking of the things he could do to Friedrich if they were back at the lodge, but it didn't take long for him to figure out the flaw in that pastime. He shifted in his seat and scowled.

Trouble was, there wasn't much else he could think of that didn't lead somewhere he didn't want to go. He ended up thinking about Dan, of all people, wondering what his editor would think of his new book. Or what he'd say if I told him how much of it's based in truth. He smiled at his reflection in the window. Now there's a revelation that might actually be kind of fun. Yeah, I'm really a werewolf. No, you don't need to call the guys in white coats. Yes, you'll still have the next manuscript on time. Well, as on-time as they ever are.

Friedrich's hand on his knee startled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see him smiling.

"Pleasant thoughts, Gabriel?"

Gabriel snorted. "Sort of. Just thinking." He belatedly realized how quiet Friedrich was being, and looked at him more closely. "What about you? What're you thinking about?"

Friedrich shrugged. "The future. The past. New hopes and old fears."

Gabriel grinned at him. "Nothing important, then?"

Friedrich laughed. "Apparently not." The look he turned on Gabriel was deeply happy, tinged just a little with wonder, and even more faintly behind that, a bit of…something not quite sadness, but close. He squeezed Gabriel's knee and lifted his hand to run it through Gabriel's hair, stroking the nape of his neck and making him shiver. "I am so very lucky to have found you, Gabriel. Or for you to have found me." He patted his shoulder and turned his attention back to the road. "I know you are not fond of thinking in terms of fate, but I cannot help but wonder if there is something more at work here." He glanced back at Gabriel, serious. "And I thank it with all that I am if there is."

Gabriel grimaced. "If you say so." It was hard to deny there might be something more than luck pushing them at each other, but that didn't mean he had to like it. What's it mean, if that's what it is? Is any of this real? What I feel, what I've gone through — all just some kind of cosmic joke? And Malia before this, too. Don't I get anything to myself? he thought bitterly. Anything that isn't preordained? He scowled at the countryside, trying to blank his mind and calm himself the way Friedrich had been showing him. With luck, maybe he could fall asleep.

In the end, he didn't quite manage sleep, but he did zone out a bit, shaking himself to awareness as the Rover turned off the paved road with a bump. Friedrich set the map down and looked at him. "Half a mile, maybe, is the closest place to the schloss."

Gabriel nodded. He took a deep breath and blew it out in a sigh. "Yeah."

They were silent after that until Friedrich pulled onto a bare patch at the side of the dirt track and cut the engine. Gabriel stared at the trees as if he could see the walls beyond them. "I guess we should go, huh?"

"Mm." Friedrich nodded, looking the same direction but making no move for the door.

Gabriel's lips quirked. "Thought you weren't nervous."

Friedrich looked at him. "I said it was the right thing to do, and I was confident you would do well. I never claimed I wasn't nervous." He smiled, little humor in it. "They are your friends, Gabriel. And have little reason, I fear, to love me."

"Crap." Abruptly, Gabriel felt like a heel. All their talking, their planning, had been focussed on Gabriel — how he'd do, how folks would react to him — they'd barely touched on how folks would feel about Friedrich. The Alpha werewolf responsible for him. Responsible for von Zell. And he doesn't really have a squeaky-clean history, either. Gabriel winced. "Damn."

Friedrich nodded. He thumped Gabriel's leg decisively and swung open his door. "Come. It won't get better for the waiting."

"It might for the leaving," Gabriel muttered. But he opened his door, too, reluctantly joining Friedrich by the side of the road.

The short hike wasn't really hard, but it left them too breathless to talk. And then there was the half-march, half-climb up the rocky slope that left them standing on a ledge of grass by the unused wing of the schloss. Gabriel put a hand on the weather-worn stone, looking up at the building as he caught his breath. It was imposing and strong, but there was that persistent feeling of coming home, too.

He remembered the first time he'd seen her — the family curse hanging heavy, she'd seemed like one of those old Southern ladies that kept painting her face, stubborn to keep up appearances long after any beauty or reason was gone. Now, after the curse's lifting (and some restoration), she wasn't any younger, but was much more like… More like my gran, he thought with a smile. Age ain't dimmed her none, and she'll stare you into the ground if you suggest it. He patted the stone affectionately.

He felt Friedrich's eyes on him, and turned, readying a defense against the mockery he expected — but all he saw was amusement and approval. "She is still quite impressive."

Gabriel nodded back, then realized, "You've been here before."

Friedrich nodded. "Not in some time, of course."

Not in a couple hundred years, he meant. Jesus, it was weird to think about. "Were you ever actually in the schloss?" He turned to walk toward the lived-in wing where the passage was.

"Yes, though only for an evening," Friedrich answered, joining him. They spoke quietly as they walked; it was unlikely they'd be heard, but the situation or the schloss itself seemed to demand it. "After my father's sentence was carried out, Victor brought me and my mother here — it was the next morning he smuggled us out."

"It should have been before that." Gabriel looked at him, suppressing a shudder. "You never should've had to see that!" His own father, burned at the stake. It was a brutal way to die, and for a kid to watch it…

Friedrich put a hand on his back. "While I cannot deny it was a gruesome sight, the memory was certainly enough to make me pause and think, when I was young and foolish, or angry. Which is no doubt what Victor intended."

Gabriel shook his head, appalled. "You're a lot more forgiving than I would be."

"It was a different time, Gabriel. I don't blame him for wanting to make certain of me." Friedrich smiled grimly. "Besides, I've had years of practice getting used to it."

The passageway was invisible until they were practically on top of it, the rosebush at its entrance the only visible marker. Even up close, if you didn't know it was there, you could easily pass right by. Gabriel moved the rose branches aside, wincing as the thorns scraped his arm, and tugged at the lever to open the camouflaged door. There was a slight scrape of stone on stone — the door had no doubt been designed to be silent, but there hadn't been much call to keep up maintenance on it. Maybe I should change that. He paused, looking into the dark, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well?" He looked at Friedrich and shrugged, waving him in.

Friedrich shook his head, smiling. "It is your home, Gabriel."

Gabriel sighed and nodded. "Right. Okay." He took a big step in, as if expecting it to spit him back out. Heck, for all I know, it could. After a moment, Friedrich joined him, and the only thing that happened as they waited was their eyes getting used to the dark.

"Right." Gabriel yanked the lever on this side that would close the door, and stepped closer to Friedrich as the dark closed in and their eyes re-accustomed themselves. "Now or never, right?"

"Now or later," Friedrich corrected with a chuckle that gave away a bit of his nervousness. "So we might as well get it over with, yes?"

"Yeah." As the stairs became visible, Gabriel grabbed Friedrich's arm and started for them, pulling him along. They marched up the well-worn stone together, to the third level and the passageway that led to the bedrooms. Carven slits in the wall, invisible from outside, provided just enough light to see by, and Gabriel strode to the first pair of heavy wooden doors that formed the backs of the wardrobes.

A corner of his mind half-hysterically contemplated going through Gerde's instead, but really, if the girl was in there, giving her a heart attack wouldn't be the best start to all this. He found the latch on his own door, instead, and pulled it open. He heaved a sigh that was part laugh. "Well, she hasn't thrown my clothes out yet. That's a good sign, right?"

Friedrich snorted. "If you can call that good." He nodded at Gabriel's jeans and T-shirts, incongruous in the antique wardrobe where Gerde insisted on putting them. "Good God, Gabriel, don't you own anything else?"

"I have a suit!" He shrugged. "Somewhere." He grinned at Friedrich's look. "In New Orleans," he confessed. "What's wrong with jeans and T-shirts?"

"In moderation, nothing." Friedrich rolled his eyes, then ran them over Gabriel, with the look more of a tailor than a lover.

Gabriel groaned, seeing all too many gifts of clothing in his future. "I like what I wear," he declared stubbornly.

"How do you not freeze in winter?" Friedrich shook his head.

"That's what the jacket's for. And I have a coat. And heating."

"And we're stalling, aren't we?" Friedrich gave him a rueful look.

"Yeah, pretty much." Gabriel looked through the hanging clothes to his bedroom.

"Come." Friedrich took Gabriel's hand and pushed the clothes to one side, and with a nod, they stepped through together.

Gabriel's room was pretty much as he'd left it, and seemed to be waiting for him, the bed made up, wood stacked in the fireplace, and the door to the library securely locked. He took heart from it all, only feeling slightly terrified as he opened the hallway door.

Gerde wasn't upstairs, and they made their way cautiously down the main staircase. She wasn't in her usual daytime post at her desk, either, but Gabriel could hear movement in the chapel off the main hall, and steeled himself, gripping Friedrich's hand tight for a moment before stepping inside.

Gerde had her back to them, watering some of the numerous flowers that rivaled the stained-glass windows for brightness. Gabriel took a deep breath, and spoke as she moved on to the next arrangement. "Gerde."

She spun around, and gasped at the sight of him, barely managing to set her watering can down without dropping it. "Gabriel!" She rushed over, her eyes flickering towards Friedrich in obvious question before scrutinizing Gabriel closely.

"Never knew you were interested, darlin'," he teased automatically, earning a scowl in turn. He held up his hands, placating. "Sorry. Yeah, it's me. And I'm okay, I promise. Well, mostly."

"Of course it's you." Gerde pursed her lips. "Only you could be so flippant, Herr Knight. Where have you been? What's happened?" She looked over at Friedrich again.

Gabriel took a deep breath. "Gerde, this is Friedrich. We should probably talk, and you might wanna sit down."

He said nothing more till they were sitting comfortably in front of the fire, a bottle of schnapps and three glasses between them despite the early hour. To her credit, Gerde waited, though he could see the questions behind her eyes. Friedrich was on his best behavior, holding her chair for her and smiling politely, and it seemed to help a little, though she never quite smiled back.

Gabriel poured for all three of them and nudged her toward a glass. "You'll probably want that. I know I need it."

Sighing, she sipped at the drink, watching him.

Gabriel grimaced. "You want to ask questions, or should I just start talking?"

"Talk," she all but ordered.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. Why do I always find the bossy ones? "Okay." He stared into his own glass, thinking how to start. What would she want to know? He hadn't said much before; how much did she already know or guess? Grace's demanding presence might almost be easier. "I heard about Grace," he blurted. "From Harry. Übergrau? He said she was okay, though."

"She is," Gerde answered shortly. "Although she would have preferred waiting here for you."

Gabriel winced. "Yeah, well, if she hadn't gone through with that stupid plan — she knew the theatre wasn't right!"

"She hoped to help you, Gabriel!" Gerde scowled back. "She decided it was worth the chance."

"I wasn't even there!" He set his glass down with a thunk. "What good did she think it would do?"

"It was too late to stop it!" Gerde's glass joined his, and she gestured angrily. "What did you hope to accomplish by leaving?"

"Maybe I was just tired of having my life played with!" He started out of his seat, only to be pushed back by Friedrich.

"Gabriel!"

Friedrich's glare made him remember himself, and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting it out as he sank back. "Sorry," he told Gerde, not opening his eyes. "But she should've told me the truth and let me decide. She had no call to lie to me. She kept things from me, Gerde. Kept the talisman from me, for God's sake! After all Wolfgang…" He shook his head. "Not to mention Friedrich's letter. I took off because I don't like being lied to and manipulated."

He opened his eyes and met hers squarely. She was pale, emotions chasing over her face too fast for him to read. She shook her head, glancing between the two of them. "It isn't over. And you…" She shrank into her chair, looking around as if for an exit, or a weapon. "Gabriel, have you gone mad?"

"Gerde!" He grabbed her arm as gently as he could. "Listen, okay? Everything'll be all right. Friedrich's helping me learn to control it. I'll be okay."

"How can you say that?" Her arm tensed under his hand, and her eyes flew to Friedrich, widening as she realized. "And this is him? You are sitting here with a killer! You —"

"No!" he interrupted, frowning. "Von Zell was the killer, and he's dead. Friedrich's not."

"She is right, Gabriel." Friedrich's quiet voice broke between them, and Gabriel stared at him, incredulous. "Not in some time," Friedrich reassured him, "but I have killed, many years ago." He leaned toward Gerde, looking at her soberly. "There was a time I did not think it so wrong. I have been a killer. I have no desire to be one again, nor do I wish Gabriel to become one. I know I have not earned your trust, but will you allow me the chance to do so?"

Gerde looked troubled, but, Gabriel dared to hope, a little less scared. She looked back at him, then at Friedrich again, and firmed her lips in resolve. "I want to speak with you alone, Gabriel."

Gabriel sighed and glanced at Friedrich apologetically. Friedrich nodded and stood, brushing a hand over Gabriel's hair. "I will reacquaint myself with your lovely schloss, if you don't mind." Gabriel nodded and watched him go.

The questions started as soon as he left the hall. "What did he mean? Gabriel, what is going on? How can you —?"

He held up a hand to stop her, then rubbed his face, sighing. "One at a time, okay? I'll tell you what you need to know. Just…let's keep it calm, okay?" He could feel a bit of a headache, and was uneasily aware of the day's stress eating away at his self-control.

Gerde looked even more troubled, but nodded. "Gabriel, you —?" She twisted her hands in her lap, her question unfinished, though he could guess the gist of it.

"Yeah. I'm still a werewolf. Like I said, he's teaching me how to control it, though." He took her hand. "I haven't killed anyone yet, and I'm not going to. You understand?"

She nodded, clearly dubious. "It is an evil thing, Gabriel — you cannot think to let this continue!"

"It's not evil!" He scowled, then sat back, fishing the talisman from under his shirt. "You see this? I still have it, I'm fine. It drove off von Zell — the werewolf who killed all those people — but it's never hurt Friedrich or me." He wrapped the chain around his hand and held the amulet out to her, letting her see it was real. "What von Zell did, that was evil — not what he was."

She brushed her fingertips over the golden lion, looking sad, and he knew she was probably remembering the same thing he did whenever he looked at it. "After what Wolfgang did to get this back," he said quietly, "do you think I wouldn't trust it, if it told me otherwise?" He sighed. "And after all that… I lost it in the attack, when von Zell bit me. Friedrich sent it back to me; Grace kept it from me. You tell me who did the right thing."

"You should not have lost it!" she protested, but Gabriel could see her wavering.

"Yeah, I know." He smiled at her a little sadly, with none of his usual flirtatiousness. "I know I'm still working my way through this Schattenjäger thing. It's probably not the last mistake I'll make, either. But I'm doing what I can; just trust me, okay?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Gabriel. How can you accept this, this curse, as if it is just another…" She made a frustrated gesture, clearly at a loss for a word. "You say it isn't evil, but that does not make it right! You are the Schattenjäger!"

"I know. And I haven't given up yet, Gerde. I do want to be human again." He set his jaw. "But I'm not killing Friedrich to do it. He hasn't done anything — if I murder him, how does that make me any better than von Zell?"

"I don't understand." She shook her head. "Gabriel, you had accepted before that you would have to do this; what has changed now?"

He frowned at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

She made an exasperated noise. "Last month, you would have killed him; has he now convinced you otherwise? What has he said? How can you trust him?"

He shook his head emphatically. "I never wanted to kill him! Well, okay," he allowed, "maybe for a minute or two when I was really pissed off, but that's pretty much true for everyone, not just him. I got over it." He smiled at her in an attempt at humor.

"But…I don't understand." She looked confused now. "You agreed to the plan. The opera…you had to want it, to help, or it would never have worked, yes?"

He met her eyes, a sinking feeling beginning in the pit of his stomach and the pain in his head spiking. "What are you talking about? The opera…that was just to cure me, to cure us both, without killing him — that was the point. I —"

She was shaking her head again, looking as stunned as he felt. "It was…the music was meant to force him to change, and the police would see and kill him. That was the cure, Gabriel — your agreement, your help in setting things up, it should have been enough to count and to break the curse…"

All at once, he couldn't breathe. His head was pounding, and he tore himself from his seat, pacing in front of the fire. Lost in the back of his mind was the knowledge he should keep calm, not let this overwhelm him, but most of his thoughts were occupied with the rising red tide of anger. After the uncertainty of the day, it felt almost cleansing, this rage. He paced, his movements tight and jerky, and he could feel the growl building in his throat. He would protect his pack, he would make them pay…

"Gabriel!" Friedrich rushed back to the hall to find Gerde backed into a corner, Gabriel's eyes golden with the beginnings of the change. He cursed, running to grab Gabriel. Did I misjudge him? Is it still too soon?

Gabriel snarled and fought him, but Friedrich held tight. He could smell Gerde's fear, and had no doubt Gabriel could as well. He threw himself to one side, bringing Gabriel crashing to the floor with him and pinning him down. "Go!" he yelled to Gerde, jerking his head toward the entrance.

Gabriel snarled again, and, wide-eyed, Gerde ran.

"Gabriel!" he called again, desperate. He could feel the man changing underneath him, his form shifting, and he growled and started his own change, determined not to let Gabriel get away from him. They ended still twined together on the floor, and Friedrich set himself squarely atop Gabriel, fully prepared to fight.

Paradoxically, though, Gabriel seemed less inclined to struggle now, his growls rapidly turning from aggression to warning — there was a threat here. Friedrich sniffed the air, finding nothing, and soothed Gabriel, grooming and pressing against him. All is well here. We are safe.

Slowly, slowly, Gabriel yielded, calming to only token growls. Friedrich nuzzled him once more and let him struggle to his feet, shaking off the torn and twisted clothes that still wrapped him.

Keeping pressed against him, Friedrich closed his eyes and changed back, crooning encouragement to Gabriel to do the same. "Come, Love," he breathed as he regained human form, "I am sorry to press you, but I must have answers."

Gabriel shuddered through the change and whimpered as he came back to himself. Friedrich pulled him closer, kissing him and rubbing his shoulders.

"Friedrich?" Gabriel sounded lost, and Friedrich growled his reassurance as best his human throat could manage.

"I am here, Gabriel. We are well. Relax, my friend." Gabriel shuddered again and slumped against him. "There, you see?" He held him close. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Gabriel drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There was…oh, god, Gerde?" He jerked up, wide-eyed, and Friedrich caught him in a hard grip.

"Frightened, but unharmed. Calm yourself, Gabriel!"

Gabriel tensed and scowled, then abruptly let go of the fight and leaned against him again, with a sound suspiciously like a sob. "Christ, I try telling her it'll be okay; who am I kidding?"

"It will be." His tone brooked no argument. "It was, until something happened. And whatever it was, we shall try to avoid it in future. What happened, Gabriel?"

"She…she was telling me…" Gabriel tensed again and growled; his eyes met Friedrich's fiercely, but though Friedrich kept hold of him, wary, he seemed to have himself under control this time. "They were trying to kill you; to make me an accomplice, without me even knowing what was going on!"

Friedrich stilled, his own instincts for protection and survival screaming at him, Leave. Leave now. "Perhaps you had better explain yourself, Gabriel."

Friedrich found Gerde once more in the chapel, seated and praying this time. He genuflected and joined her, looking her over. Her eyes were red and her face still pale, but she was on her way back to composed.

"Gerde…" He paused. "I apologize for my familiarity; Gabriel has not told me your surname."

"Hull," she answered, clearly reluctant. "And…thank you."

"There are no thanks needed," he replied seriously. "Gabriel would never forgive himself for harming you, nor would I like for you to come to harm." He eyed her a little coolly. "The same could not be said in reverse, though, could it?"

She blanched, but didn't apologize or back down, and he couldn't help but respect her for that. "It was the only way to save Gabriel, and to stop the killings! I have served the Schattenjäger for most of my life; how could I shrink from that duty when he needed my help?" She put a hand to her head, an unhappy noise escaping her throat. "He agreed to it. I thought that I was doing as he wished. I didn't know…is he all right?"

Friedrich nodded. "He has gone to sleep. And I think he will not want to meet Miss Nakimura very soon. Nor would I want him to." He eyed the chapel's stained glass darkly, his eyes following the green loops of the dragon's body where it wrapped Saint George's feet. "He blames her for this. It could well set him off again, and I do not know if I could hold him back this time." Or, to be honest, if I would want to.

"I don't…" She sighed again. "She thought that she was helping Gabriel, I'm sure of that. We both did." She looked at him furtively, troubled, and he waited. "You returned the Schattenjäger talisman?"

"Yes." He nodded. "It was not mine to keep."

"Thank you." She spoke hesitantly, almost reluctantly. "Wolfgang, the Schattenjäger before Gabriel, he died to retrieve that talisman."

Friedrich could hear the emotion underlying her words, and he nodded to himself, seizing his chance. "I am especially glad to have returned it, in that case; I remember Wolfgang as a good man."

He could feel Gerde staring at him, and waited a moment before looking back. "Yes?"

"You knew Wolfgang?"

He shook his head, smiling slightly. "Not well. I met him with his brother a few times, before Heinz moved to America. And once again, after. I remember that he missed his brother very much. I thought at the time that it was irresponsible of Heinz to leave him, although… Well, perhaps there were other forces at work." He shrugged, seeing with satisfaction that she met his eyes now and sat more easily in her seat. "How did you come to meet him, to work for him?"

Gabriel woke from his nap and stumbled to the bathroom, splashing his face and running his fingers through his hair. Damn, he'd needed the sleep. Just a couple hours, and already he felt…he snorted as his brain finished the thought — almost human.

He took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror, and headed downstairs before he could talk himself out of it. He'd need to face Gerde sooner or later. Provided she and Friedrich hadn't killed each other already.

It took him a few minutes to find them, and a minute longer for his brain to acknowledge what he was seeing — Gerde cooking dinner, Friedrich lounging against the counter with a glass of wine, both of them smiling and chatting easily.

Friedrich waved him over, switching to English. "Gabriel. How are you feeling?"

"Better." Gabriel let himself be pulled into a brief hug, then nodded soberly at Gerde. "Gerde, I —" He shook his head. "God, I'm sorry. I know that's not nearly enough…"

She smiled at him, the expression genuine, if a little strained. "Not at all. The great Gabriel Knight, apologizing? I should be honored."

"Ouch." He winced. "I am sorry, though. I never should've…"

"No, you shouldn't," she interrupted firmly, and pointed a spoon at him. "Friedrich tells me you wish to have my help, to let everyone know you are still to be trusted, still to be Schattenjäger. First you will have to convince me of this, Gabriel."

Well, at least we're not stuck on "Herr Knight" any more. "I will, Gerde." He nodded. "I just…it's been a long day, a long month, and that was a bit of a shock." He frowned. "And I'm still pissed off about it."

"We should still work on your control, Gabriel." Friedrich rubbed his shoulder.

Gabriel threw up his hands, sighing. "Yeah, fine, okay. Can we have dinner first?"

Dinner was interesting. Gerde was a much better cook than Friedrich, and she knew what Gabriel liked — the food was the best he'd had in over a month. And it was good to be back at home, not off in the lodge or stuck in the Rathaus dungeon. But there was a surreal feel to it, sitting there with Friedrich next to him and Gerde across from him, chatting away, the perfect domestic scene. With werewolves.

Whatever had happened while Gabriel was asleep, they seemed to have declared a truce, and were polite, even friendly. There were a few times Gabriel was left feeling like an outsider at his own table, and he fought down the urge to snap at them both. He'd never much been the introspective type, but with Friedrich's insistence on "getting in touch" with himself, he took a moment to examine his anger, and realized with a start that he was jealous. Jesus, Knight, you've lost it. Smacking himself down mentally, he made an effort to join the conversation. And if he maybe leaned a little closer to Friedrich, so what?

There was an awkward moment when Friedrich headed back to the car for their bags, and Gerde announced she would open a room for him.

"Um. Gerde." He set the last of the dishes in the sink and caught her before she made it out the kitchen door. "That's okay, thanks."

She frowned at him, confused. "If I don't do it now, Gabriel, it will never be warm. These walls —"

"No, really," he interrupted. "You don't have to. We won't need another room."

She looked in the direction Friedrich had gone. "He is staying?"

There was an edge of nervousness in her voice, and Gabriel couldn't blame her, after this afternoon. He took a step back, letting go of her arm, giving her space. "He's staying, yeah. With me." She looked at him, and he could see her starting to work through it. "In my room," he clarified.

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "Gabriel, you…" She shook her head. "He's guarding you? Or me?"

He couldn't tell which she was hoping for, and he had to admit she had a point; it could as easily be either. It'd be easier just to let her think one or the other, but… If she's gonna trust us, we've gotta do the same. "He's sleeping with me." He had the satisfaction, at least, of seeing her blush, and grinned cheekily. "You asked."

"I did. I'm sorry." She glanced around, then walked briskly to the sink. "In that case, I'll finish up here. You will need to unpack. And your mail is on the desk in your study." She turned on the water and attacked the dishes with single-minded determination.

Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Gabriel went for his mail.

His keys were in his jacket, and he fished the old-fashioned iron key to the library out. There was a comfort to hearing the heavy snick as the lock opened on the oaken door, and he stepped into the room with a feeling of satisfaction.

His study was a kind of loft in one corner of the huge Schattenjäger library, a cozy niche with a window in one side of the thick wall, the glass so old that the bottom was thicker than the top. The other walls held books — volumes he or his predecessors had moved up here from the main library for research, some of the older and more precious — or more dangerous — tomes, and a few dictionaries and references. And the Schattenjäger diaries. Shelves full of them, labeled with names and dates, kept in meticulously good condition. He ghosted a hand over them reverently and a little nervously, wondering what all these men — and a few women — would have made of their latest descendant. It brought up images once more of the immense responsibility he had, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, taking deep breaths, focusing on the here and now. Mail. On the desk.

He sat in the heavy chair and patted his old typewriter, smiling at it. "Don't worry, baby; the pen and paper'll never replace you." He rested a hand on its comforting weight as he thumbed through the small pile of letters next to it.

One letter of accounting, totaling up the amounts spent on restoration of the schloss in the last few months; a letter from Komissar Leber in Munich, demanding explanations for the opera, and a letter from übergrau, telling him to direct all police inquiries to him — both several weeks old; a stern letter from Dan demanding to know how the manuscript was coming; and a mildly reproachful letter from his gran, asking when he was visiting her again.

He was still reading over that last when a knock on the door frame claimed his attention. He blinked up at Friedrich. "Hey. You got everything?"

"Yes." Friedrich nodded, lounging in the doorway. "Shall I put my things in your wardrobe?"

"I hope so." Gabriel snorted. "I already told Gerde not to open another room." He waved at Friedrich. "Come in! What are you, a vampire, you need an invitation?"

Friedrich looked startled, and glanced around. "This is the Schattenjäger library, yes?"

"Yeah, a part of it. So what?" Gabriel made a disgusted noise. "I get the whole needing security thing, but the 'no-one comes in' part is stupid. D'you have any idea how dusty this place was? The first thing I did was ask Gerde to clean and catalogue the place." He laughed. "You should've seen her face. Took her weeks to get used to coming in here."

Almost reluctantly, Friedrich stepped in, though Gabriel could see curiosity burning in his eyes. "Are you sure your ancestors would approve?" He pulled the other chair out of the corner by the stairs and sat facing Gabriel.

"Probably not." Gabriel shrugged. "But they had fewer books to take care of, and more need to hide them away. Besides," he drawled, "I have a feeling there's a lot about me they wouldn't approve of." Friedrich acknowledged that with a nod and a wry grin. "Not just you, either." Gabriel shrugged. "I know I'm not exactly the typical Schattenjäger."

"No," Friedrich agreed. "But perhaps that is a good thing." He cocked his head, looking Gabriel over. "A new kind of Schattenjäger, for a new era. Perhaps that is why —"

Gabriel pointed at Friedrich, interrupting him. "If you say it's fate again, I'll kick you right back out of the room," he threatened.

Friedrich shook his head. "Then I won't." He smiled. "Does that mean I get to stay?"

Gabriel laughed. "Trust this to be the one thing you're greedy about. Go on." He waved toward the stairs to the main library.

Friedrich stood, but headed around the desk and held his hand out. Gabriel waved it off and stayed sitting, his gran's letter still in his other hand. "You go on."

Friedrich stepped closer, combing a hand through the hair at the nape of Gabriel's neck. "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah." Gabriel smiled and shrugged. "My gran misses me." He stared at her letter and sighed, his jaw set stubbornly. "And there's no way in hell I'm visiting before I've got this thing beat. Not after today."

Friedrich's hand paused. Then he pulled it away and stuffed it in his pocket. "Today won't happen again," he said, his voice brusque. "We will see to that."

"Yeah." Gabriel looked up at him seriously. "Thank you. Again. For sticking with me. For being there."

"I could hardly leave you, Gabriel." He gave a curt little nod. "You are my responsibility."

Gabriel frowned and stood, stepping close to him. "I hope I'm a little more than that."

Friedrich sighed, his arms going around Gabriel, and he softened a little. "I care for you, Gabriel, you know that."

Gabriel smiled, pressing up against him. "Yeah?" He backed Friedrich toward the bedroom door. "Show me how much?"

The moon was still bright enough through the window to throw a patch of light across the tangled, sweat-soaked sheets. Another thing, Gabriel reflected, that his ancestors might've frowned upon. And certainly more action than this bed had seen recently. Or even in a long time, unless maybe Wolfgang and Gerde…Okay, not going there.

He stretched and rolled closer to Friedrich, only to see he was being watched. He grinned. "See something you like?"

Friedrich smoothed a hand over his shoulder and down his side, resting it at his hip. "Very much."

Gabriel stretched again, shifting one leg between Friedrich's. "Nice to know." He chuckled. "I even trumped the library, didn't I? Tour later, I promise."

"Mm." Friedrich seemed distracted, though, and Gabriel nudged him.

"You with me?"

"Of course." Friedrich smiled at him, but even he could see it was strained. "But are you with me, Gabriel?"

Gabriel frowned. "What do you mean?"

Friedrich shrugged it off. "It's nothing." He kissed Gabriel's temple. "Never mind."

"Friedrich." Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him. "What?"

Friedrich sighed. "You are with me — only until you 'beat this'? And after, what then? Or if you discover you cannot, not any other way — will you choose to kill me then, to regain your humanity?"

"Damn it, Friedrich, that won't happen!"

"The latter, you mean?" Friedrich shook his head. "You believe so now, I'm sure." He brushed his hand down Gabriel's face. "But you still hope to leave me, no matter the cost, don't you?"

"No." Gabriel scowled. "Not no matter the cost." Friedrich laughed sadly, and Gabriel realized what he'd said. "Damn it, Friedrich, it's not you!" He sighed. "Look, I…" He struggled to put his feelings into words. "I like you. I do. I like being together. Hell, I've already been with you longer than pretty much anyone! I just…" He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't…I don't know if I can do this, Friedrich. I don't know…" If I'm strong enough. If I want it enough. If it's right.

"You can do it, Gabriel. If you want to."

Gabriel shifted uneasily at the echo of his own thoughts. "Maybe. Look…" He picked at a thread on the old blanket beneath them. He couldn't help but think he owed Friedrich something, some answer. "I can tell you this. I don't want to hurt you, and I never will if I have any choice. And I don't mean any other chance to be human, just if it's ever in my control. And…" He hesitated, not daring to look at Friedrich. "I told Gerde, this afternoon, that I still want to be human. But…I don't know if I meant it entirely." He couldn't deny, the wolf was seductive, but… He shook his head and met Friedrich's eyes. "That's all I can give you."

Friedrich brushed a lock of hair from Gabriel's face and kissed him lightly. "Then I will content myself with that as best I can."

He seemed so sad, Gabriel couldn't just leave it there. He pulled him back for another kiss, putting all his frustrated emotion and caring into it, until he could feel passion once again behind Friedrich's lips. When they broke for breath, Gabriel pressed close. It was chilly on top of the covers, but he didn't care. Hell, he'd slept in the forest last month, right? This was nothing. "G'night, Friedrich."

"Pleasant dreams, Gabriel," came the murmur in response. But Gabriel didn't relax until Friedrich's arms wound around him again, and they fell asleep like that.

Gabriel wrote back to his gran the next morning. It was almost as bad as trying for a book when it wasn't coming; had him near tearing his hair out in frustration. This was his gran; he couldn't just foist her off with "later, I'm busy". For one thing, he couldn't treat her like she didn't matter. For another, she could smell a lie — especially his lies — a mile away. Unfortunately, "I'd rather not drop on by until I'm sure I won't kill you" would probably go over even less well, so that left the truth out. It was nearly noon before he settled on a variation of "I'll come home as soon as I can" and left it at that.

At which point he realized, Someone's gotta take this to the post office. Crap. Not that he couldn't have Gerde do it when she picked the mail up, but Frau Holstedder would have to look at it to mail it, and that would kind of give him away anyway. And once she knew, Herr Huber would know, and once he knew…

With a grimace, Gabriel pushed away from his desk, straightened the piles of handwritten manuscript on the corner, and headed downstairs.

Whatever weird truce Friedrich and Gerde had come to, it seemed to be holding. He found her seated at her desk going over some papers, and Friedrich sitting a few yards away in front of the fireplace, reading the paper. They both looked up as he came down, and he nodded. "Hey."

"All finished, Gabriel?" Friedrich set the paper aside, no doubt ready for more work on his control. Gabriel grimaced.

"Yeah. Only…" He waved the letter in the air. "We still have to mail it, don't we?" He sprawled in the chair opposite Gerde. "Somehow, I doubt I'm ready for folks to know I'm back just yet."

Gerde eyed him and slowly shook her head. "I need to be more certain, Gabriel, before I will speak for you." She looked beyond apologetic, torn between duty and fear, her eyes suspiciously moist.

Crap. Can't stand a crying woman! "Hey, it's okay," he rushed to reassure her. "I get it, I do. You're gonna give me a chance, though, right?"

She looked at him as if he were being an idiot. "If I were not, Gabriel, I could easily have announced you last night, and told the men of the village enough to kill you in your sleep. You're still here, aren't you?"

Gabriel laughed, and her expression turned incredulous. Probably not the reaction she was going for. "Sorry, it's…" he glanced over at Friedrich, finding him watching them with a bemused smile. "He kinda said the same thing to me once."

"Perhaps you inspire people," Friedrich said dryly, and Gabriel shot him a look.

"To kill me? Thanks a lot."

"Not at all."

Gerde made a strangled noise, and Gabriel looked back at her. She schooled her face, and he realized she'd been laughing. And him, and at Friedrich. Well, I suppose that's a good sign, anyway. "If y'all are finished?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

Gerde shook her head. "Give me the letter, Gabriel. I must go into Munich tomorrow; I will post it from there."

He smiled at her, relieved. "Thanks very much; I appreciate that." He handed her the letter. She took it, and he kept a close eye out for any signs of fear, but she didn't flinch or back down from him, and his smile turned a little sunnier.

Friedrich walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come, Gabriel. We have work to do."

They went back out the secret passage to the forest, and Gabriel stretched, bones creaking as he worked out the kinks of sitting still for too long. He was actually looking forward to a run, which was just wrong even leaving out the whole four-legged part. But there it was — it would be good to get out, exercise a bit. And city boy though he was, he had to admit the woods were gorgeous right about now. Something about them called to him; he tried to remember when he'd first gotten here, if it had been the same — was it the place, or the wolf in him? — but all he could recall from back then was the urgency and fear — for himself, for Malia, for Grace, for Wolfgang…he'd thought they'd killed Mosely, thought he was going insane. Who'd noticed the trees?

"Come, Gabriel." Friedrich squeezed his shoulder and walked off down the slope.

"Where are we going?" Gabriel headed after him, carefully watching his feet.

Friedrich shrugged. "Further away from here. I want to try something, but I think it would be best away from Gerde. Or anyone else."

Yeah, there was that. After yesterday… "What the hell did you say to her, anyway? Y'all are cozy as anything!"

Friedrich smiled back at him slyly. "Apparently, my liking Wolfgang was a mark of approval."

Gabriel nearly missed his step, then hurried to catch up with him. "Wait a minute — you knew Wolfgang?" He caught Friedrich's arm, looking at him accusingly. "You never said anything!"

"You never asked." Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him. "I did say I had met other Schattenjägers. I had no idea Wolfgang was important to you."

And okay, there was that, and Gabriel hadn't ever really told him about the talisman and how they'd gotten it back, but still. "But he was to Gerde, so you had to mention him?" He narrowed his eyes. "Or did you really ever meet him at all?"

Friedrich pulled his arm free, scowling. "I may lie to save my own skin, Gabriel, but I don't play with people. And it would in any case be pointless to lie to you. Wolfgang was a passionate and committed young man, and I respected him."

"Did he know who you were?"

"No." Friedrich shook his head. "None of the others I met did, apart from Victor."

Gabriel nodded, curiously mollified. "When did you meet him?"

"It was shortly after…well, between the wars." Friedrich grimaced. "It was not a good time, although we were making the best of it." He shrugged. "I doubt that escaping your curse was the only reason your grandfather left, although at the time I thought he should have stayed."

"You met him, too?" Gabriel couldn't help but feel a bit wistful. He'd only ever met his granddad in visions and old photographs. "What was he like?"

Friedrich chuckled. "You would do better to follow Wolfgang's example. Heinz was a bit of a tearaway." He winked. "I rather liked him."

Gabriel gaped at him. "You —" Pink shirts. "Uh-huh, right. That's just wrong, and I'm not believing you!"

Friedrich laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, dragging him along further into the woods. "You are learning, Gabriel."

By the time they headed back for the schloss, Gabriel was dead on his feet. Never thought talking could be so damn exhausting! That was all they'd really done, on the face of it — sit or walk in the middle of nowhere and talk. While Friedrich brought up every damn topic guaranteed to get a rise out of him. And it was a whole 'nother level of disturbing to find out how many of those he knew.

He'd lost it a couple times, too, damn it. Not a lot, but still, sometimes. Which undoubtedly meant they'd be doing more of this, too. He bared his teeth in a grimace.

He was almost tempted to close the wardrobe door in Friedrich's face, but his sense of fair play insisted none of Gabriel's anger was really his fault. Be easier if it was, he acknowledged ruefully. And sat on the bed, frowning in thought.

"Gabriel?" Friedrich watched him a little warily, hoping Gabriel had indeed calmed down from their afternoon. He squatted in front of him, daring a hand on his knee.

Gabriel looked at his hand and twitched, then blew out a breath and patted it. "I'm okay."

Friedrich smiled. "I'm glad. You looked very…pensive."

Gabriel gave him an arch look. "So when I start thinking, you start worrying?"

"Occasionally." Friedrich chuckled. "It depends what you are thinking of."

Gabriel looked down, frowning, but it seemed more thoughtful than upset, so Friedrich waited.

"I was thinking. About how easy it'd be to blame you for all this. Not just being changed, I mean." He met Friedrich's eyes and waved back toward the forest. "All that anger, all the problems. They're…" He grimaced and shoved a hand in his hair. "They're me," he bit out. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. "Just…more, and harder to handle, but me. But I know that. It ain't pretty, but I've had to have a hard look at myself before."

Friedrich wondered at that, but Gabriel held up a hand to forestall any interruption. He looked away, then back, his expression plainly reluctant. "I'm thinking maybe von Zell never did."

The breath went out of Friedrich, but Gabriel continued. "I think it's easier to turn that anger outward than to think all that's been in you all the time." He spoke slowly, as if feeling his way as he went. "I think maybe that's how the madness starts. Blaming you, blaming everyone else, the world…"

Friedrich shook his head, and Gabriel broke off. "You don't think so?"

Friedrich smiled, though it was strained with the memory of Garr, of all those others. "Whenever I start to underestimate you, Gabriel, you say something like this. I…" He thought about it and shook his head again, though not in denial. "I doubt that it is quite so simple, but I confess it is a factor I had not thought of." Another of those things, maybe, that he lost by never having truly been anything but a wolf. Could it really be simple human nature he had missed? Could he have saved Garr and the others by making them face themselves first? I was thinking they needed to connect with their animal nature, when maybe all that they needed was to understand themselves.

"Hey." Gabriel nudged him, giving him a slightly strained smile. "That's enough of that for now. How about that library tour I promised?"

Friedrich huffed in laughter. If there was one thing Gabriel had no problem in grasping, it was living in the moment. "Why not? Lead on."

The library, Friedrich soon learned,was deceptive. Nor was Gabriel's offer of a tour simply a polite way of saying he was allowed in. Down a spiral staircase from the study was a huge, airy room lined and furnished with bookshelves enough to make any public library jealous, and the books there showed similar breadth to any well-stocked library — the Ritters, apparently, were readers. Biographies, fiction, references…a cross-section of literature going back hundreds of years. German, but also French, Italian, Russian, Spanish, English, Latin, and Greek. And those were just the ones he spotted at first glance.

Gabriel seemed in awe of the place, and Friedrich couldn't blame him. "Incredible." He shook his head.

"Yeah," Gabriel answered in a hushed voice. "And I thought I had a collection back home."

Home, which is not here, Friedrich noted, but merely nodded. "I have quite an accumulation myself, but not to match this." He skimmed the titles on some of them, wandering through the sections as Gabriel pointed them out. He frowned, puzzled. There was a decided bent towards the occult of all types in the books represented, but none of these — save for the age of some — would have been difficult for a dedicated bibliophile to find; he had some of them himself. Certainly not what he'd been expecting from the so-well-guarded Schattenjäger library.

Gabriel laughed, and Friedrich turned to him, questioning.

"Wondering what the big deal is?"

Friedrich opened his mouth to demur, but Gabriel waved it off with a grin. "It's okay; I think you're supposed to."

"Oh?" Friedrich's interest piqued again, he peered around, wondering where the hidden secret was. He took a closer look at the deep rugs covering the floor and the huge tapestries on the walls and recalled how they'd arrived at the schloss in the first place. "There is another secret room."

Gabriel nodded, still grinning. "So where is it?"

Friedrich smiled. "Is this a hunt, then?" He called up memories of the schloss, and of how similar places had been built. He paced the room, feeling the rugs beneath his feet, the imperfections in the stone, watching the way the tapestries moved slightly in the air currents.

"There." He pointed at the outside wall, with its thick stone and deep-set windows.

Gabriel made a startled noise. "Damn."

Friedrich chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "Well, if it is any consolation, I have no idea where the door is."

Gabriel laughed. "It is, a bit, I guess. You're better than the church's witch-hunters, though, apparently. Or the Nazis."

Friedrich winced, remembering their hunger for anything supernatural. "Thank God."

"Yeah." Gabriel knelt in one corner and pried up a stone, then reached under it and did something, and a section of the wall swung towards them. He dusted his hands as he stood. Unlike the passage to the outside, this one had been well-maintained, opening soundlessly. "I hate to think what could've happened."

"There were many reasons I returned to Brazil in those years." He stepped reverently to the door, looking in. Slivers of glass in the mortar of the window casements let in enough light for them to see by, though the sconces on the walls stood empty. The space was as long as the library and just large enough to walk through, with shelves to either side — stone here, rather than wood.

"This is the real stuff," Gabriel explained unnecessarily. "Whatever's not in the study. If anyone came looking, they could bring that stuff down here, too, and lock it all up out of sight." He touched one fraying volume carefully. "I thought of moving it all out there to make it easier." He waved at the main library. "I mean, it's not like there's danger now, right?" He looked down the long aisle of books, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Then I thought, that's probably what they thought years ago, too. So they're staying right here."

Friedrich nodded and clasped Gabriel around the waist. "A wise decision, I think."

Gabriel looked at him wryly. "Might as well do something the ancestors would like, right?"

Friedrich chuckled and kissed him.

Tired as he was, Gabriel couldn't quite sleep, so he took some time before dinner to type up what he'd written of his novel. It didn't seem too bad, if he said so himself, though he knew Dan would be brutal. He'd better be; it's what he gets paid for. Friedrich stayed down in the library, checking out some of the books that were older than he was. Probably doesn't get to do that all that often, Gabriel thought, rolling his eyes. By the time Gerde came to get them for dinner, Gabriel was on a pretty even keel, and the meal went smoothly. He even managed to write a bit more afterward.

That pattern kept on for about a week. It was a challenge — Gabriel thought he was probably learning more self-control, but at the same time, the constant testing of it was making him more and more annoyed. And Friedrich pointing out that he had to learn self-control even in such situations really didn't help any. Even if it is true.

Nine days after they'd first arrived, they were settling down to dinner. Gerde eyed Gabriel with what he thought was probably disapproval. In fact — god, that was still weird — he could smell her anger and wariness. Not strong, but there.

She'd been getting a lot better around him — around them both — but…well, the bruise coming up on Friedrich's jaw didn't help much.

He tried his best "I'm too cute to be mad at" look on her as he set the plates on the table and sat down. "Just a dust-up, nothing major." She set the roast on the table with a thunk. "I didn't even start to go crazy or wolfy or anything," he pointed out.

Friedrich actually chuckled, fingering his jaw. "There is that, I suppose. You're right; I believe we can count today as a definite — if bare — success."

Gabriel grinned at him, then turned it on Gerde. "There, you see?"

"I see you're both insane," she declared. "If you —" A knock at the door interrupted her. "Scheisse!" She threw down her napkin and stood. "Wait here!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes as she hurried out. Like we don't know we're not supposed to be seen? He inched carefully into the hallway and listened, staying out of sight.

"Uncle Werner!" Gabriel cursed softly as he heard her greet Herr Huber, and strained to make out their words. He'd been working on his German, but it still didn't come easy. "I'm surprised to see you at this time of night. What can I do for you?"

He could hear Herr Huber sigh. "I have come to see Herr Knight."

Gabriel thumped his head back against the wall. Damn it, how'd he found out?

"But he isn't here, Uncle, you know that." Give the girl credit, she could act.

"Yes, he is. I know this and so do you. I want to know what is going on, and I want to see him." He sounded his usual self — calm, paternal, slightly stern — but Gabriel could smell it: he was worried. Not quite panicked, but… He looked over at Friedrich, who grimaced in acknowledgment — he could smell it, too.

Gabriel breathed in deliberately, testing the air for any whiff of gunpowder or other villagers or anything dangerous, but there was nothing he could spot. He's come alone, unarmed. If we let him go, worried as he is, and he comes back more prepared… Stomach sinking, Gabriel met Friedrich's eyes. Reading his decision, Friedrich nodded. Gabriel echoed it, took a deep breath, and stepped into the main hall.

Whatever protests he'd interrupted died down as they saw him. "Thanks, Gerde." He shrugged. "I appreciate the thought, but it looks like this cat's out of the bag."

"A cat?" Herr Huber eyed him. "Or a wolf?"

"Wow, you don't beat around the bush." Gabriel grinned, then held up his hands in a calming gesture. "It's a bit of a story. You want to hear it, or are you just here to kill me if you get the wrong answer?" He tried his best to look composed and uncompromising instead of angry or nervous.

He must've managed something right; Herr Huber stood up straighter, facing him, and nodded. "I want the truth."

"Okay." What now? Gabriel cast around for a way to handle this, and his grumbling stomach supplied the answer. "You wanna join us for dinner? I'm sure there's enough for one more."

Despite protesting he'd already eaten, Herr Huber let himself be led back to the kitchens. He eyed Friedrich as he joined them, but seemed more curious and confused than hostile, and Gabriel realized he probably knew less about him than Gerde had.

Gabriel pulled another plate down and Friedrich another beer, and they sat back down.

"So…" Gabriel watched the movement of Gerde's hands as she dished out the roast, then turned back to Herr Huber. "What gave us away?"

Herr Huber looked at him as if he were a child. "Gerde could hardly be eating so much on her own!" He waved at the food. "Besides, the light in your study has been on each night."

Gabriel groaned. "Damn, I forgot all about that! And I thought we were being so careful. Guess I need to get some blinds or something."

Herr Huber eyed him sternly. "That is beside the point. What I want to know is, who and what has come back to us? Why are you hiding, hm?"

Gabriel met his gaze squarely, though his stomach was turning over. "We're hiding 'cause I'm not ready for company yet. But I will be."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Herr Huber frowned. "'Ready for company'? This is not about setting the table!" He flicked his hand against his plate dismissively. "Have you ended the curse, or are you still werewolf?"

"Why?" Gabriel shot back, equally put out. Friedrich put a hand on his knee surreptitiously, and Gabriel shifted in a nod only he would pick up. I'm okay.

"Why?" Herr Huber blinked as if Gabriel had lost his mind. "What do you mean 'why'?"

Gabriel looked at him. "Toni's killer — the one who killed all those people — is dead. It's over. Anything else is my problem."

"Your problem?" Herr Huber was clearly aghast. "You are Schattenjäger!"

"Yes!" Gabriel blinked as Gerde set her fork and knife down and faced Herr Huber dead-on. "He is Schattenjäger. That is what is important. He is still Schattenjäger, and I will vouch for that."

Gabriel could feel himself smiling. She shook her head at him. "I don't pretend to understand all of this, but I know enough. I believe you are not evil, that you are still Schattenjäger, and that you can learn to control this…thing." She sighed. "It would seem the fate of the Schattenjägers to be cursed in one way or another." She shook her head sadly, then turned back to Herr Huber. "He still holds the talisman, and it accepts him. That is enough for me."

Gabriel couldn't help the incredulous look he gave her. Since when?

Gerde's lips thinned as she looked back at him. "I do not yet say I think you have conquered this curse. I think you are better off left alone for a while. But if the talisman accepts you, you are still the Schattenjäger. And," she took a deep breath, "we know it is possible to be a werewolf and not a killer," she conceded, sounding reluctant. "So, I will wait and be careful and see." She pointed her fork at Herr Huber. "And so will you."

"We know?" Herr Huber didn't seem reassured. "How do we know this? When have you known —"

"I believe that she means me, Herr Huber." Friedrich nodded at Gerde. "And I thank you for the endorsement." He continued eating as if unconcerned, but Gabriel could feel him practically vibrating, and it was his turn to put a hand on Friedrich's knee.

Herr Huber looked like he was ready to bolt, and he stared at them, horrified. Damn. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"You are mad!" He directed that at Gerde, along with a stream of rapid German out of which Gabriel caught "me", "you", and "the". And "werewolf", a word it'd be hard to miss. He waited for a break in the tirade, then interrupted.

"Breathe!" He picked up Herr Huber's beer and set it more squarely in front of him. "Have a drink; I think you need it." Herr Huber looked ready to start up again. "I thought you wanted to hear the truth," Gabriel shot at him.

Finally, that seemed to derail him, at least for a moment. "What?"

"You wanted the truth," he repeated. "So are you gonna sit and listen to it?"

"What do —"

But Gabriel interrupted him again. "You want to jump to your own conclusions, you can do that without me, so why did you come here?"

Herr Huber still glowered, but at least he did take a breath. "I had hoped I was wrong."

"You are wrong." Gabriel grinned at him. "Just about different things."

He looked annoyed at that, but this time it was his standard "what kind of crazy American has God saddled us with", so Gabriel ignored it. "Can I ask you a question, Herr Huber?" He watched him carefully. "What do you know about the whole opera thing?"

Herr Huber looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"What was the plan? What were we trying to do? How much did you know?" He shrugged. "I'm a bit hazy about back then."

Herr Huber nodded. "Toni's killer was not the first in his bloodline. So, you were to kill the wolf who was, so that you would be human again. Only you left when you found out it might not work," he accused.

"Good job I did, too, wasn't it?" Gabriel fought down the anger that still brought. "Seems like everyone knew what we were doing except me," he told Herr Huber, and the man actually blinked in surprise. "I thought the opera was a cure. I never wanted to kill anyone."

Herr Huber frowned. "But you agreed. If you had not…"

"I wasn't exactly in my right mind! And it wasn't an informed decision." And there was the anger again, and Gabriel sunk his hand in his hair, taking deep breaths. "Sorry," he muttered without looking up, "that still pisses me off." He looked at Herr Huber, who was looking alarmed and confused, but at least not homicidal. "Did you know I lost the talisman, killing von— Toni's murderer?"

Herr Huber's eyes went wide. "You —"

"I dropped it, when he bit me." Gabriel winced, remembering his carelessness and the pain of that moment. "I was hurting so much after, I forgot all about it." He sighed. "I know I suck as a Schattenjäger, okay?"

Herr Huber snorted, and Gabriel figured he was better off not knowing if it was denial or agreement. "My point is, would an evil man have sent it back to me?"

"Sent it back?" Herr Huber seemed lost again, and Gabriel sighed. For a writer, Gabe, you tell a shit story. "I dropped it in the forest. It could've been gone for a long time, and anything evil probably would've loved that, right? But the alpha wolf, the one everyone thought that I wanted to kill — hell, the one who knew I'd have a good reason to kill him myself — he sent it back to me. He knew what it was, and he made sure I had it. Does that sound evil to you?"

Herr Huber's frown was more confused now than angry, and Gabriel let him think it over, turning back to his neglected food. It took a few moments for Herr Huber to speak again.

"Why would the werewolf choose —" He shook his head. "How would he…"

Friedrich stared into his beer glass, answering quietly. "Because the Schattenjäger should have his talisman. Because his ancestor helped me, knowing what I was, and I could do no less for him." He turned to Gabriel, ignoring Herr Huber's pale face. "Because I care for him."

"You?" Herr Huber leaned away from Friedrich, his eyes wide.

Friedrich eyed him sardonically, his lips quirking. "How many werewolves did you think there were in Bavaria?"

Herr Huber frowned at him, but again, it was more normal annoyance, and Gabriel just rolled his eyes.

Herr Huber picked at his food and shook his head, and Gabriel let him think things through.

"So." He looked between the two of them. "You will not kill him, and so you are still werewolf." He looked at Gerde. "And you believe that he can still be Schattenjäger like this?"

"Pretty much," Gabriel agreed.

"Yes." Gerde nodded at Herr Huber, squeezing his hand. "I think at least that we must let him try."

He shook his head, his troubled eyes lingering on Friedrich. "I do not know what to think."

"Just think." Gabriel shrugged. "Look, I know it's a lot." He sighed. "I'm still working through it myself; that's why we were hiding, remember? Just…don't jump to any conclusions, okay?"

"Why don't you sit with us tonight, Uncle?" Gerde offered. "Come again in the morning, if you like. Watch and see."

Gabriel winced internally, cursing having the man around to play on his already frayed nerves. You really think that's the best way to convince him, Gerde? But Herr Huber was nodding, and looked considerably more satisfied. "I believe I will do that," he said almost accusingly.

"Great." Gabriel did his best to sound enthusiastic. "Look, just don't tell anyone else yet, okay?" He stared hard at him. "Or have you already?"

"I would never repeat my own speculations," Herr Huber said a little pompously, as if he wasn't the worst gossip in the village. He huffed. "And I will tell no-one else. For now."

"For now," Gabriel agreed, relaxing a bit. Earlier mornings and less privacy were a small price to pay if they could get him on their side, he guessed. He finished his last bite. "So, what's for dessert?"

Friedrich looked at Gabriel's scowling face and chuckled, earning himself a dirty look.

"I suck at this." Gabriel thunked his pawn down on the board, stopped, and took a deep breath.

"There, but you see? You can do it," Friedrich murmured as soothingly as he could. "Like the calm, it only takes practice."

Gabriel grimaced. "Practice being myself. If I was being myself, I'd be upstairs typing."

"Mm." Friedrich moved his bishop and surreptitiously eyed the man across the room — he was supposedly talking to Gerde, but most of his attention was unsurprisingly on them. "But we don't want Herr Huber seeing you naturally," he continued in a low voice, grinning. "We want him to like you."

Eyes not leaving the board, Gabriel picked a pillow up off the couch and threw it at him.

Friedrich caught it, laughing. "I didn't think that's what you meant when you called them throw pillows."

Gabriel snorted and moved another pawn. "Shut up and move."

Friedrich eyed the board and moved a pawn of his own. "Checkmate," he said almost apologetically. "You should pay more attention, Gabriel."

"It's too much like work." Gabriel knocked his own king over dismissively and stretched.

Friedrich shook his head. "You have no appreciation of the finer things. Herr Huber," he called, gesturing at the board, "do you play?"

Herr Huber looked like a trapped rabbit. "Yes…"

"Good." Friedrich smiled as pleasantly as possible. "Come, please. Do me the pleasure of a game?"

He hesitated, and Gabriel groaned. "Please! He'll only keep beating me into the ground." He pushed himself off the couch and flapped his arms as he wandered. "Besides, my butt's going numb."

Friedrich looked to heaven for patience at this common complaint. He caught the almost pained look on Herr Huber's face, and laughed. "Amerikaner." He tossed the pillow back at Gabriel. "Why don't you get drinks for your guests?"

Gabriel caught the pillow and rolled his eyes. "Scotch for you?" Friedrich nodded. "Herr Huber?" Gabriel pointed the pillow at him in question.

Herr Huber stood indecisive for a moment, then nodded as if to himself and slowly joined them. "Schnapps, bitte."

"Schnapps," Gabriel repeated as Herr Huber sat gingerly in the place he'd left. "Gerde?"

"Brandy, please." She looked up from her needlepoint and smiled at them. She was nervous still, Friedrich could see the signs, but she was doing her best.

"Brandy. Scotch and schnapps." Gabriel nodded, set the pillow back on the couch, and headed to the drinks cabinet.

Giving Herr Huber what he hoped was an encouraging smile, Friedrich began straightening the pieces. "So, will you play black or white?"

Gabriel poured their drinks and another scotch for himself and headed back with them. He smiled at Gerde as she took her glass. "How am I doing?" he whispered.

"Not badly, I think," she answered just as low.

"I hope." Gabriel sighed and crossed the room. "Here you go, Herr Huber."

"Danke, Herr Knight." He did his best not to touch Gabriel, but he did take the glass, and Gabriel chose to count that as a win.

"Gabriel, please." He gave Herr Huber his most disarming smile. "I really never got used to the 'Herr Knight' thing."

Herr Huber eyed him in that "God save me from Americans" way, and sighed. "Gabriel, then."

Satisfied, Gabriel handed Friedrich his scotch and took a drink of his own, looking at the board. They'd only made a couple moves so far. He drew on the knowledge of years of watching Sam and Marcus back home, but the truth was, he couldn't tell chess strategy from a hole in the wall. He perched on the arm of Friedrich's chair, watching.

Herr Huber seemed pretty good — better than Gabriel, anyway — but he was obviously a bit rattled; Gabriel tried and could smell his nervousness. He tried to strike up a conversation a couple times to put him at his ease, but that only seemed to make it worse, somehow.

"Gabriel," Friedrich murmured after his third attempt, "I think it's better if you don't distract us."

Gabriel squinted at him, but he was serious. He rolled his eyes and caved, just watching. For about a minute, before he got bored stiff. Sighing, he slid from the chair and sat on the floor, staring into the fire as he sipped his scotch. Friedrich shifted, and Gabriel found himself leaning against his leg, but it was pleasant and warm and actually kind of nice, so he didn't bother moving. His thoughts wandered, and he found himself startled out of a half-doze when Herr Huber stood, announcing that he should leave.

Gabriel blinked and rubbed his face, scrambling to his feet. "What time is it?"

"Nearly eleven." Friedrich chuckled. "You've been asleep for three hours."

"I wasn't asleep," Gabriel protested. "Well, not mostly." He smiled at Herr Huber. "Sorry. Some host I am, huh?"

"It is fine." Herr Huber nodded and gave him a pointed look. "I will be back tomorrow."

"Sure thing." Gabriel fixed the smile on his face. "We're looking forward to it."

Saying it, of course, didn't make it so. Gabriel couldn't seem to make himself happy for the extra company, though he did his best to endure it. That day, and the next, and the next… What's he waiting for, Gabriel wondered in frustration, me to snap?

The answer to that came fifteen — stressful but largely uneventful — days after Herr Huber had started coming.

"You say you have such control." Herr Huber's beard thrust out belligerently. "I wish to see this."

Tomorrow night was the full moon, and Gabriel's nerves were feeling rawer than usual anyway, and the last thing he needed was to argue about it. "No." He crossed his arms, perfectly capable of out-stubborning the old man. "You can't follow us into the forest, and I'm not staying here. I need to get out before I go crazy." He waved his hand in a cutting gesture. "And that's not the wolf talking." Mostly. "I've put up with this, 'cause I know you need to know I'm okay. I haven't got any writing done, I haven't been out of this damn castle except when I'm working my ass off on other things," he glared at Friedrich, "And I need some free time. It'll be worse tomorrow, and if you think I'm pacing around inside, you can forget it."

Herr Huber wasn't happy, but eventually he folded to the inevitable, only insisting he be there when they got back, which Gabriel reluctantly agreed to. Friedrich was strangely silent through the argument, his expression giving nothing away. His scent wasn't upset, but beyond that, Gabriel was at a loss. He waited till they were alone in the bedroom to confront him.

"Well?"

Friedrich dusted his hands as he stood from stoking the fire. "Well, what?" He lounged on the bed next to Gabriel.

Gabriel threw up his hands. "What do you think? You're pissed off, aren't you; you think I should've handled that better."

Friedrich shook his head, smiling just a little. "Not at all. I think you did a wonderful job, Gabriel."

"Huh?" Gabriel frowned. "You're the one always telling me to put up with it, let him see I'm okay, learn to deal with people better, control myself even during the full —"

Friedrich stopped his litany with a kiss, and after a confused moment, Gabriel grabbed him, returning it with interest. Friedrich chuckled, the sound almost a growl, as he pulled back. "And all of that is true, Gabriel." He put a hand to Gabriel's lips, forestalling his argument. "But I am very pleased that you are learning your limits and are not ashamed to admit them. That is important, too." He caressed Gabriel's face. "And you didn't lose your temper while arguing, either. You are truly doing very well, you know."

"Yeah, well…" Gabriel grimaced. "We'll see, I suppose."

"We will." Friedrich's tone brooked no disagreement, and he leaned forward for another kiss.

It was hard to stay focused that day. Gabriel tried typing up a bit more of his book, but he couldn't sit still for long. He had an epiphany and channeled a bit of it into some new stuff, almost finishing another chapter, and that blew away a few hours, but by mid-afternoon, he was sure everybody was ready to kill him. If he didn't do it himself.

He thumped down the stairs once more to see what was going on. Friedrich looked up from his book, shared a look with Gerde that Gabriel couldn't quite interpret, and set the book aside, walking up to grab Gabriel's arm, steering him back around.

"Huh? Friedr—"

"Gabriel," Friedrich cut him off, "we are going out."

"Out?" Gabriel echoed, uncomprehending. "Out where?"

"Going outside," Friedrich corrected himself. "Into the forest."

"But it's not…Friedrich, there's hours till sundown," he protested as they got back into their room.

"So, we will work on control." Friedrich's voice was a bit more clipped than usual, in that way that meant his patience was being tried. "Or we will walk. But I have promised Gerde, she will not see you again before dinner, at the earliest." He grabbed their coats and opened the passage, giving Gabriel a pointed look.

Sheepishly, Gabriel took his coat and climbed through the wardrobe. "Should've known if I left you two alone you'd wind up plotting against me."

"You are complaining?" Friedrich eyed him almost threateningly, and Gabriel laughed.

"Nah, I suppose not. Hell, at least you're getting along."

"More or less," Friedrich agreed. "She is a very bright girl."

"Easy on the eyes, too." Gabriel grinned.

"Yes, that as well." Friedrich shook his head. "Although that has hardly been my primary concern. Good god, Gabriel, I sometimes think you are as bad as Preiss!"

Gabriel shuddered and shot him an evil look. "No one's as bad as Preiss."

They came out of the passage, and Gabriel squinted in the cloud-filtered sunlight and groaned in relief, hurrying down the path. Whatever Friedrich had in mind to do, damn it was good to get out of there!

Friedrich followed along, but made no effort to steer their course, and Gabriel just wandered whichever direction seemed good at the time, happy to move. He jumped up and caught a sturdy branch, hanging from it a moment to stretch out his spine before dropping again and laughing.

Friedrich watched him, a smile tugging at his lips. "Happier, Gabriel?"

"God, yes!" Gabriel grinned at him and stalked over. "'Course, I probably could use a bit more exercise." He narrowed his eyes at Friedrich. It was weird; outdoor sex had never much done it for him before. Then again, there's a lot less mosquitos and mud around here. "Though after that crack about Preiss…"

Friedrich looked back at him, amused. "I apologize, Gabriel; you are clearly more discerning."

Gabriel laughed, pressing Friedrich up against a tree. "What, he never hit on you?"

Friedrich raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say that."

He looked ready to continue, but Gabriel held up a hand. "Never mind! I do not wanna know. All that 'lord and master' stuff? Never mind … I just don't." Friedrich chuckled and opened his mouth to say something, and Gabriel stopped him with a kiss.

It started with his typical hunger, but the touch of Friedrich's hands, Friedrich's mouth, had him ravenous in no time, struggling out of his clothes, heedless of the chill, needing more skin on skin, more of that glorious fire.

He'd had a vague notion of making Friedrich wait, of driving him crazy for once, in retaliation for his joke about Preiss. But once they started, he couldn't stop, couldn't care, couldn't make himself want to slow down. But Friedrich met Gabriel's passion with his own, kissing him just as hungrily, tossing his fancy clothes onto the carpet of leaves without a shred of regard.

They lay on the crude pile of their clothes, and Gabriel shivered as one shoulder pressed against the cold ground, but it was a momentary discomfort, only spice to the heat and the movement and the pressure above him. His cock pressed between their stomachs, Friedrich's next to it, hard and long and hot, and he groaned, clutching him, thrusting against him, his hips lifting as Friedrich's pushed down to meet them.

It was different, the small, still-working corner of his mind couldn't help but notice. The men he'd met in clubs and alleys, he hadn't known their names; he'd barely known their bodies. Just enough clothes open to get the job done, just enough words exchanged not to piss the other guy off before you got off yourself.

Not that he'd been much more caring about the women in his life. "Gabriel's a lout," Grace had once told one of his lady friends who probably didn't even know what the word meant, and he had to admit it was mostly true.

But this…He knew Friedrich, his name and his history, what he did with his time, what he liked and he hated. And he was learning his body, too — what made him growl or groan or hiss in annoyance, what got him off or turned him off; what made him move just the way he wanted. And he was — god! — learning the same things about Gabriel.

Different, unsettling, and bone-shattering sex. He'd been wondering, lately, after the rubbing and the blowjobs, and that one time last full moon…

And — god! — As if Friedrich knew what he was thinking, his hands were roaming over Gabriel, and one had moved down, his fingers brushing the backs of Gabriel's balls, and that spot right behind, and further back… A thrill went through Gabriel, that touch like a shot of electricity right up his spine, and his hips were lifting, and what if—?

"No!" he gasped, his fingers digging into Friedrich's ass. Couldn't do that, couldn't…and the hand was moving away, and he gasped in relief and dismay and thrust harder against him in apology and desperation.

Friedrich reached down once more, wrapping one hand around both their cocks, and Gabriel groaned, his head slamming back against the ground as he thrust up into that pressure, and every corner of his mind focused on it, and it didn't take long until he shouted and dug his fingers into Friedrich's ass and came, Friedrich's seed joining his on their bellies soon after.

They lay there, panting on the ground, for long moments, and as his skin cooled and thoughts settled back in his brain, Gabriel sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Friedrich wasn't some girl who'd want to talk about it all, because…no. Then again, if he was a girl… Gabriel sighed and stretched, scratching at the drying mess on his stomach.

"Gabriel." And Friedrich's voice was low and warm, but damn it, it looked like he wanted to talk anyway, and "so, did you want to work on pissing me off by talking" wasn't exactly a distraction, and they were stuck out here for hours, and —

And there was one good way he knew of to stop any questions and stop thinking about it all, and for once Gabriel grabbed onto the suggestion with both hands, and changed.

By the time the moon set and its pull was gone, Gabriel had almost forgotten the problem. Coming back to their discarded clothes brought it back to his mind, but like the moon's influence, he shrugged it off, and Friedrich seemed inclined to let him.

The change was still painful, still left him shaking after, and his memory was…odd. There, but foreign, like the dreams he had sometimes. But he could remember it, and he didn't worry any more that the blood they'd washed off romping in the creek was anything more than rabbits. Still, it felt strange, like his bones weren't all settled.

They pulled on their damp, wrinkled clothes and brushed themselves clean as best they could before they hurried back, shivering. It gave him time to get used to his body again, to remember he was a man turning into a wolf sometimes, and not the other way around.

Friedrich stayed nearby, knowing Gabriel's favorite method of grounding himself in his body, but it was nearly dawn, and as much as a vicious part of him wanted to make Herr Huber wait, then show up smelling of sex, they were trying to win the man over.

They kept close as they trudged back to the schloss, though, Friedrich's hand on Gabriel's shoulder or back, always touching him, and Gabriel gripping Friedrich's hand or waist, reminding himself his hands worked, his arms worked, and he wasn't alone in this. And he tried not to think how much that meant to him.

Herr Huber and Gerde were waiting for them in the hall as they padded down the staircase. What exactly Herr Huber hoped to tell by this, Friedrich wasn't sure — maybe simply that Gabriel was capable of keeping a promise, or of even remembering one on these nights — but he had promised, and so they made their appearance.

"We're here." Gabriel held out his arms as if to prove it. "No-one's hurt. Okay?" He rubbed his face and yawned. "I'm going to bed."

Herr Huber looked them both over, and if there was one thing Friedrich had learned of the man these two weeks, it was that those eyes didn't miss much. He nodded and stood. "I will see you tomorrow," he declared, implacable.

"Yeah, whatever." Gabriel sighed, turned, and headed back up the steps, blinking tiredly.

"Gerde. Herr Huber." Friedrich nodded to them and followed Gabriel up, wrapping an arm around him again.

Even as tired as they both were, Gabriel groaned and stepped into his arms as soon as the bedroom door shut behind them.

"Mm." Friedrich kissed him, running his hands over Gabriel's arms and down his sides, reminding himself of his lover's human shape and what it felt like.

Gabriel stepped back after a moment, yawning again. "Christ, I'm tired."

"So, we sleep." Friedrich tugged at Gabriel's jacket, and Gabriel roused enough to toss it over the chair. Friedrich watched him for a moment to make sure the momentum would keep him undressing, then stripped himself. The water in the basin was long cold, but he rinsed his hands clean anyway, leaving a shower till later. Gabriel poked at the fire and added a couple more logs, and they met in bed, sliding under the cool sheets.

"Damn, it's cold." Gabriel shivered. "Be nice if one of the ancestors'd foreseen central heating!"

Friedrich chuckled and wrapped himself around Gabriel. "I suppose we'll simply have to warm ourselves. You survived last winter here, didn't you?"

"I wasn't running around naked last winter," Gabriel pointed out.

"A wolf's fur is warmer," Friedrich answered in turn.

"Yeah, well, I can't spend all winter as a wolf. Maybe a space heater."

"You'll spend all winter as a space heater?" Friedrich laughed at the look that got him and kissed Gabriel's nose. "Go to sleep."

"Trying to." Gabriel snuggled lower under the covers. "Someone keeps talking."

Friedrich snorted his opinion of that. "Good night, Gabriel."

They slept until well after noon, then Gabriel headed down for coffee while Friedrich showered. He thought as he washed himself, taking advantage of the time alone. Gabriel's progress in control had been startling, and whether it was the supernatural in his blood or the knowledge of himself, he had shown no signs of the insanity that had gripped so many others. For that, Friedrich sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god might be listening.

Nor had Gabriel spoken of a cure in more than vague terms in some time. Friedrich didn't dare yet to hope that he might be willing to stay with him for good, but perhaps for a while, at least. What he himself would do after that he didn't let himself think about, either. We are quite a pair, he acknowledged wryly. So in touch with our animal natures, so very good at ignoring our human.

He still wasn't quite sure what he would do — if he should do anything — about Gabriel's indecision last night. He clearly didn't want to speak of it, though Friedrich couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and hope at the fact that Gabriel had changed without need or prompting or excess emotion — a conscious decision, whatever the reason. And maybe I should take that as the gift it is, and let him come to more in time.

Gabriel was on edge that day. Not quite as antsy and frustrated after spending the night before out, but he couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation. Like the time between sending a manuscript off and waiting to hear back. Speaking of which, he finally put his foot down and closed himself in the study to get some work done. He still needed to take breaks sometimes, and he came down to talk or grab a snack and satisfy Herr Huber that he wasn't going psycho, but he was almost done, and damned if he was going to let his writing slide any more just so he could sit staring at the fire or losing at chess or playing poker with pretzels.

They had an early dinner, the sky already growing dark as they finished, and Gabriel set his dishes in the sink with maybe a bit more force than was called for. He shivered and rubbed his arms, forcing down that crawling feeling.

"Come on." Friedrich clapped him on the shoulder. "We should get going, Gabriel."

"Why do you not change here?" Herr Huber asked, half in challenge and half in fear.

Gabriel gave him a look. "'Cause I don't fancy wrecking my clothes, and I ain't undressing for you." He scowled, then took a deep breath and did his best to calm himself. Just a little longer, he promised the awakening wolf. "We'll come back later, okay?"

Herr Huber acknowledged that with a nod, and Gabriel waved to him and Gerde before they headed out the back way again.

On this side of the mountain, the setting sun still glinted through the trees, casting long shadows behind them as they headed down. Gabriel fidgeted and stretched, craning his neck and back every which way, trying to ease the tension. He snarled in frustration and threw himself back against a tree, the bark digging through his clothes with a welcome sharpness.

Friedrich stopped a little way in front of him, and Gabriel eyed his calm resentfully. Then Friedrich's eyes closed, and he grew expectant, poised almost as if listening, and when he opened his eyes once more there was something fierce and wild in them. He looked at Gabriel with a feral smile tugging at his lips, and Gabriel returned a grin that was more teeth than anything.

Friedrich stepped close, a challenge in his gaze, and grabbed Gabriel's shirt, pinning him against the tree. Gabriel snarled and grabbed Friedrich in turn, yanking at the buttons of his shirt. They undressed each other almost viciously, necessity turning to lust as they bit each other's lips, dug hard nails into tender skin, pushed hard against each other as if trying to crawl inside the same flesh.

The tree bark scraped over Gabriel's bare back, and he threw himself forward, pushing them to the ground, landing on top of Friedrich.

Friedrich grabbed him and spun, and the ground was freezing against Gabriel's back, and he didn't care, because Friedrich was above him, pushing against him, devouring his mouth, and he groaned and grabbed Friedrich's hair, kissing him back.

He could still feel the pull of the moon, growing stronger as the light dimmed, but this need blended with it like the lengthening shadows, merging until he couldn't tell them apart, and he couldn't tell which skin either of them wore, and what did it matter if the hairs scraping over his cock were the thin line that snaked down Friedrich's belly or the soft pelt of his wolf hide, and they moved together as one, the pleasure building, and his fingers/claws dug into Friedrich's back, and he surged forward, demanding, and then Friedrich was inside him, where he belonged — my Alpha, my lover, my brother, my mate — and he howled as he came.

They caught rabbits again that night, and cleaned the blood from each other's muzzles and paws. Gabriel crunched through the last bones, licking the marrow out as best he could. He spared a moment of pity for his human body that couldn't appreciate this meal, but what was the use of thinking of things that couldn't be helped? That was as it was, and no thoughts would change it.

It was early when Friedrich nudged him to return. He huffed in protest and lounged in a pool of moonlight, but the black wolf nipped his shoulder. He yelped and glared at him, but Friedrich stared him down. Shaking his head in annoyance, Gabriel rolled over, doing his best to look cute and enticing, but Friedrich looked pointedly at him, then back toward the schloss.

And Gabriel remembered. They had promised the old human to show themselves and not kill him. With one last huff of annoyance, Gabriel stood, and they made their way back to the building.

They snuck in through the back way and the door they'd left ajar. Gabriel made one last attempt to divert Friedrich and put things off a little, but Friedrich pinned his shoulders and licked him comfortingly, and Gabriel butted against him and led the way downstairs.

The humans' eyes flew wide as they caught sight of them, and Gabriel could hear their quickened heartbeats, smell their fear. He hung his mouth open in laughter and contemplated jumping down, making them scatter, maybe chasing them a little… He tensed, and Friedrich growled low next to him, warning. Gabriel huffed, but gave in.

They padded down the stairs sedately, but Gabriel kept a wary eye on the humans, and they returned the favor. If either of them moved for a weapon…

The female — Gerde, his human memory supplied — approached him carefully. "Gabriel?" He sat and watched her approach. She held a hand out, and he could see the tremors in it. He cast a glance at Friedrich, who stepped closer; satisfied he was protected, he let Gerde's hand come near, until it brushed his face.

The old man made a noise, and Gabriel's eyes flew to him. He stepped back, then drew himself up and came closer to them. Gabriel narrowed his eyes — if he thought he could pet him like some dog…but the old man stopped, and Gabriel contented himself with watching him.

Gerde's hand ghosted down the side of his face. He could hear her heartbeat quicken again, and she knelt in front of him, meeting his eyes.

"Gabriel? Are you in there?"

He huffed in annoyance and looked back at her. What kind of stupid question was that? Where else would he be?

She laughed nervously, but seemed to relax a little. She glanced at Friedrich and looked him over, but made no effort to touch him. "Thank you both."

Friedrich nodded back, and Gabriel stood and shook himself, then bounded for the stairs. If they were finished here… Friedrich joined him, and they went back to the bedroom. Stupid to go to sleep in a building, but the human him would only be cold in the morning otherwise. He jumped onto the bed and curled up in the middle. Friedrich nudged the door closed and joined him, curled around him. Satisfied, Gabriel settled himself to sleep.

Friedrich woke and stretched, taking a moment to settle and orient himself. Sunlight against the door said it was still morning, and unsurprisingly Gabriel was still asleep. Friedrich looked at him fondly; he was human now, but still curled around the sheets in a pose not far from the wolf's. Friedrich chuckled and brushed the hair from his face, kissing his forehead. Gabriel mumbled and turned further into the sheets.

Shaking his head, Friedrich stood and stretched again. He'd thought to leave the water pitcher on the hearth last night, and Gerde must have stoked the fire while they were gone; the water wasn't warm, but at least it wasn't freezing. He washed his face and hands, then pulled on a robe, chose his clothing, and headed for the bathroom.

Gabriel still hadn't stirred by the time he was dressed. He spared a few moments to watch him, indulging himself. There were few painters nowadays that would take up such a commission, and it was a shame. The colors and lines of him deserved to be captured. Perhaps I should take up photography. He smiled and did his best to ignore the continued thought, to remember him when he leaves, if I'm still alive. There was no sense in borrowing trouble.

Shaking off his melancholy, he headed downstairs. Gerde was at her usual post, caring for the business of the Ritter household.

"I wonder if Gabriel knows what a treasure he has in you," he said, watching her.

He spoke softly, but she jumped anyway. "You startled me." She nodded at him, a little nervous.

"My apologies." He inclined his head to her and descended the last few stairs, taking a seat across the desk from her. "I shudder to think of Gabriel managing his own finances, not to mention the care of this lovely place." He nodded at the walls around them.

"I am certain he would manage," she replied a little stiffly, and Friedrich smiled at her protectiveness.

"He would," Friedrich acknowledged, "eventually. But the care of castles is hardly the sort of thing they teach in American schools. He is very lucky to have you."

"Thank you." She picked up her pen again and nodded back toward the kitchen. "There is coffee ready, of course."

It was clearly a dismissal, and Friedrich chuckled to himself but took pity on her. "I shall leave you to your figures, then." He smiled at her and headed for the coffee.

There were sausages in the refrigerator, and eggs, and Friedrich managed a bit of a meal, setting an extra portion in the oven to keep warm before filling the largest mug he could find with coffee and heading back upstairs.

He sat on the bed and waved the mug under Gabriel's nose. "Coffee, Gabriel," he crooned, enticing, laughter under the words.

After a few moments, Gabriel stirred, mumbling questioning sounds that weren't quite words yet. "Coffee," Friedrich repeated. Gabriel cracked an eye open blearily and eyed the mug, then yawned. He fumbled a hand for it, and Friedrich made sure he had it before letting go.

"Time's it?" Gabriel muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Another quarter hour and I couldn't say 'good morning'," Friedrich answered with a smile.

Gabriel downed half the mug before surfacing with a groan.

"There is breakfast downstairs when you've dressed," Friedrich told him.

"Mm." Gabriel nodded and buried himself in his coffee once more.

Friedrich chuckled, earning himself a dirty look, and kissed him, tasting his mouth bitter with coffee. He stroked the hair back from Gabriel's face and smiled. "Go on, then, Gabriel; I will meet you downstairs."

Gabriel finished his coffee and set the mug on the night-stand, then levered himself out of bed with a groan and stumbled to the door, detouring to the wardrobe at the last minute to grab a robe. Friedrich laughed, and Gabriel gestured rudely at him on his way out the door.

Picking up the mug — when would Gabriel learn to clean up after himself? — Friedrich went back downstairs.

Friedrich was reading when Gabriel made his way downstairs — dressed, as well-coiffed as ever, and more or less awake. And frowning.

Friedrich raised his eyebrows at him, questioning. "There is breakfast in the kitchen."

"Yeah, in a sec." Gabriel grabbed Friedrich's arm and tugged. "Come on." He nodded good morning to Gerde, who nodded back, then politely ignored them.

Friedrich smiled, bemused, but put down the book. "Where are we going?" Not that Gabriel didn't often want something when he first woke, but he'd never yet been so blatant as to drag him out of the room for it in front of Gerde.

"To talk," Gabriel answered shortly.

Curious and just a little worried, Friedrich let himself be dragged upstairs and into their room. Then, after a moment's hesitation, into Gabriel's study above the library. He shut the door behind them and waited.

Gabriel paced, his hands in his hair, and Friedrich stepped forward, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"Don't!" Gabriel spun away violently, leaving Friedrich blinking in alarm and confusion.

"Gabriel?" Friedrich followed him, not touching but staying close. "Are you all right?"

"No, I'm not!" Gabriel laughed bitterly. "That…last night… I told you before, I didn't want to do it again!"

Friedrich stared at him. "Some time ago you said so, yes. But last night you wanted to." He shook his head. "You did want it, yes? Not the night before, but last night…I could not have misunderstood that!" He had smelled him, felt him. He glared at Gabriel. "Tell me — did you want it or not?"

Gabriel snarled and went back to pacing, but Friedrich stood in front of him. "I cannot accept silence on this, Gabriel. Did you want it or not?" He pinned Gabriel with a hard gaze; Gabriel met it with a challenge in his own eyes, but was the first to look away.

"I wanted it," he ground out. "Last night, I wanted it." He met Friedrich's eyes again, but this time Friedrich could see the confusion and discomfort there. "I was half gone already, I was thinking like the wolf, acting like one." He passed a hand over his eyes. "I don't even remember how far into the Change I was or anything. The wolf part of me wanted it, and it was in charge, and the wolf may not care about anything else, but I do, damn it! I have to live with this!"

Friedrich winced and reached for him again; Gabriel watched him warily but didn't back away this time as Friedrich squeezed his shoulder. "You are right, Gabriel." Gabriel looked startled, and Friedrich smiled sadly at him. "It is no more than I warned you of in the beginning, is it? Yet I seem to have forgotten my own cautions. Perhaps because you have been doing so well in all other respects. Perhaps because my own desires have been getting in my way," he admitted. "I don't know." He touched Gabriel's hair. "Forgive me?"

"Not the hair," Gabriel muttered, shaking his head irritably, and Friedrich smiled and brushed a kiss over his lips.

Gabriel accepted it, then held him off with a hand on his chest. "Not again."

Friedrich nodded. "I will not do such a thing until and unless you ask me when you are in full possession of your human mind."

Gabriel looked skeptical but nodded. "Thanks."

"Will you do something for me in return?" Friedrich asked.

Gabriel eyed him suspiciously. "What?"

"Talk to me about this." Friedrich tucked a wayward lock of hair behind Gabriel's ear. "I should like to understand why it is so important to you."

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know…"

"I will not insist upon it, Gabriel." Friedrich looked at him seriously. "Although I will say — you have said you believe your continued sanity is due to your knowledge of yourself. Do you hesitate to speak of this because you do not wish me to know, or because you do not wish yourself to?"

"Fuck." Gabriel's stomach plummeted. "Damn you." He sighed and spun away, hands in his hair. I do not want to think about this! But there was a lot he didn't want to think about, and that kinda meant he had to, didn't it?

"Look, I…" He turned back to Friedrich. "I'm not talking about it. But I will think about it, okay? I promise."

"Very well, Gabriel." Friedrich nodded. He kissed Gabriel gently. "That is all I can ask."

Gabriel groaned. "Why d'you have to be so fucking reasonable?"

Friedrich looked at him, his eyebrows raised. "You would rather I were not?"

"Makes me feel like an ass for making such a big deal," Gabriel muttered.

"Never." Friedrich chuckled and kissed him again. "But if you like, you may make it up to me." He slid his fingers under the edge of Gabriel's shirt and stroked his collarbone, making him shiver.

"Gerde probably thinks we are already," Gabriel said, leaning into Friedrich's touch, his hands rising to his hips.

"I doubt that Gerde's mind is quite as filthy as yours," Friedrich answered dryly.

"Don't fucking care." Gabriel grabbed Friedrich's head and dragged him down for a kiss.

That likely would've been the end of it, if Friedrich hadn't been right, damn him. Herr Huber showed up again that afternoon, but Gabriel barely paid attention him. Or anyone else. Gerde was doing whatever it was she usually did, and Friedrich was… Probably giving me space, he admitted with a grimace. Should I be aggravated or grateful?

After wandering the halls aimlessly for a while, he found himself in the family chapel. Last place I'd've ever thought I'd be wanting to come, he acknowledged wryly. Gabriel Knight, in church? Voluntarily? He'd never been much for religion, despite his Gran's best attempts. Still… When he looked around the quiet room, the agnostic in him, the Gabriel Knight he'd been for over thirty years, wanted to insist it was just someone's weird idea of a higher power, but there was power here — he had seen it, felt it.

He examined each of the tapestries in turn, their coded instructions to the Schattenjägers plain as anything now. Turned to the largest window behind the altar, Saint George and the dragon. He'd never forget what that had felt like, facing that dragon come to life, facing everything in himself he'd never been proud of. He shuddered. He couldn't deny that power. Whatever it was — the Catholic god, the Baptist one, or something else entirely — it was out there. And in here, the walls practically vibrating with it. And a bit of it, just maybe — he shifted uncomfortably — inside him. Along with a real mess of other things, too.

He sat in the second pew and leaned on the first, rubbing his face as he looked at Saint George. What is all this about, anyway? he demanded of the silent glass. Some great cosmic joke, to throw someone like me in the middle of all this? Some stupid test to see how many times you can yank my chain before I break? I won't be some fucking puppet! He glared at the dragon's glittering eyes. Not yours, not Friedrich's, not Grace's, not anyone's!

He could feel a growl building in his throat, and took a deep breath, sighing it out. And if I could avoid being yanked around by my own brain, that'd be great, too.

Which led him back to where he'd come in here — all those things he didn't want to think about. He took another deep breath and closed his eyes. It wasn't quite the type of focus Friedrich kept pushing at him, but he let himself drift a bit, pushing at the thoughts that wanted most to scuttle away. There were an embarrassing lot of them. The sex was the most recent, but far from being the most important; truth was, it wasn't even close to the top of the list. "What the hell kind of Schattenjäger am I" was a lot further up. Even "What the fuck do I do about Grace" was probably a little higher up. And uncomfortably at the top —

I was going to kill Friedrich. He'd only ever helped me, and I was willing to kill him. He pictured what might have happened, and blanched. If he'd been there when whatever it was made those people go crazy… Hell, even if it'd worked like we thought, and he'd changed in the middle of an opera house, been the only one crazed, how many folks might've been hurt or killed before the police got him? Fuck. You haven't changed, Gabe, he thought bitterly. Still a selfish bastard after all, aren't you?

He could almost feel the dragon's eyes on him, and he sighed. He'd been so out of his mind at the time, he couldn't really remember agreeing to the plan, but that was just an excuse, wasn't it? Somewhere inside, he'd agreed.

Is that why all this happened? Some weird justice, or punishment for… He stopped at that. Was that how he saw this werewolf thing — a punishment? "A curse and a blessing", Friedrich had called it. And one he was stuck with for a while, from the looks of it. So maybe I'd better start seeing the good parts. Because I promise here and now, he swore to whatever force was in the chapel, I'm not taking any way out if it means hurting innocent people. Not ever again.

And was it just his imagination that he could swear he felt an air of approval?

He stayed in the chapel for a while, trying to work things out with himself. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world, taking a damn hard look at yourself, but having the reminder of the dragon facing him, remembering what all that selfishness and stupidity and self-delusion felt like burning through his soul… He shuddered and made himself do it — it beat the alternative.

In the end, he came to several unpleasant conclusions, most of which boiled down to one thing: he was afraid.

Afraid of being Schattenjäger and fucking it up, afraid of losing himself to the werewolf in him, afraid of what it might say about him if he liked having Friedrich fuck him, afraid of hurting Grace if she liked him too much, afraid of her hurting him if he let her in.

Afraid of losing control. It's what it all is, isn't it? Gabriel scrubbed his hands over his face and laughed mirthlessly. Turns out I'm a control freak. Me, mister "take things as they come". Hell of a thing.

He took a few more deep breaths, searching for a bit of calm. He looked back up at the window and blinked, the light behind it barely enough to see the colors. How long have I been in here? He stood and stretched, his stiffened muscles saying it'd been a while. And just like with his work with Friedrich, he'd been doing nothing but sitting still, but he felt like he'd been through the wringer.

And I still haven't really come up with any answers, have I? The only difference is I know the questions now.

He blinked in the light as he came out into the hall — the fire was going strong, the sconces and chandelier lit for the evening. Friedrich was reading in an easy chair, and Gerde and Herr Huber were playing chess. He stepped in quietly, but Friedrich looked up immediately, searching his face for a moment before relaxing.

"Did I miss dinner?"

Friedrich snorted, and Gerde looked up. "Gabriel!" She started getting up, but Gabriel waved her back down.

"I really can fend for myself, darlin'. I was a bachelor for years."

She gave him a look. "And I can only imagine how you ate. There is a plate for you on the counter; it should only need a little heating. We didn't know how long you'd be," she finished apologetically.

"Neither did I." He shrugged.

"Would you care for company, Gabriel?" Friedrich marked his place in the book with a finger as Gabriel thought about it.

"Maybe in a little while?"

Friedrich nodded and went back to reading as Gabriel headed to the kitchen.

He stuck his plate in the microwave and crossed his fingers, grinning when the fuse didn't trip. New wiring next, he promised the old place. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the top, taking a swig as he stared into the oven's light. He hadn't turned on any others, and stopped to appreciate how well he could see in the dark now.

There. That's a positive thing, right? No more tripping over things on my way to the bathroom. Unbidden, his mind threw up a memory — stumbling through a swamp in the dark, trying to find a voodoo cult. Might be good for other things, too, he reluctantly conceded, as much as evil things seem to love the dark. There were a lot of ways this werewolf thing might actually help his job as Schattenjäger, come to think of it. Tracking folks, hearing things…and I'm damn hard to kill now, too.

He frowned. It was almost a little too good, as far as that went. Was this one more thing he'd had no say in from the start, just something fate had decided to do to him, or —

He broke off and looked at the doorway, expecting Friedrich, or maybe Gerde come to make sure he was eating. "Herr Huber." He blinked in surprise as the old man came into the kitchen, squinting in the dark. "Hang on." He turned on the little lamp on the counter, casting a circle of light over the area.

"Thank you." Herr Huber nodded. "You did not need that, did you, Herr Knight?"

"Gabriel," Gabriel reminded him. "And no, not really," he confessed.

"Gabriel." Herr Huber nodded. "It could be useful, a Schattenjäger who sees in the dark."

"I'd thought of that." Gabriel's food finished, and he pulled it out and set it on the table, eyeing Herr Huber as he sat to eat. "I'm kinda surprised you did."

Herr Huber sat across from him, grimacing. "I do not say that I like what has happened, but God's ways are often unfathomable."

"Yeah, I thought of that, too." Gabriel scowled at his food. Why didn't the idea seem to bother anyone else? Because it's not their life, he answered himself wryly.

Herr Huber raised his eyebrows at him. "God has His plans for all of us, Herr — Gabriel. Those who do His work, perhaps more than others."

"I didn't ask for that job, either." Herr Huber frowned, and Gabriel waved an apology. "Sorry. It's important, I know. I just can't help wondering why me sometimes." He gave Herr Huber a mirthless smile. "Not like I've been doing a bang-up job of it, after all."

The expected agreement didn't come. Herr Huber gave him a knowing look instead. "I believe my cousin Sepp would not agree with you. The monster who killed his Toni will never kill another."

Gabriel shrugged, conceding the point. "And what about me and Friedrich?"

Herr Huber shifted nervously and shrugged. "Baron von Glower seems to be a man as good or bad as any other. If God and the Schattenjäger do not judge him, who am I to? As for you, Herr Knight," He met Gabriel's eyes seriously, and Gabriel didn't correct him about his name. "I do not believe you are a danger. I think you have been more a Schattenjäger recently than before, and if it has taken this to do it, then perhaps that is reason enough for it to have happened. You have grown."

Gabriel stared at him.

Herr Huber smiled, a little mischievous and a little proud. "I do not believe the Gabriel Knight that we met one year ago would have retreated to the chapel to reaffirm his place as Schattenjäger before God."

Gabriel shook his head and opened his mouth to protest that that wasn't what he'd been doing at all…and stopped. Remembering what it had felt like when he'd become Schattenjäger, what he'd had to go through, and what he'd just done today and why, and… Holy crap, that is what I did, isn't it? "I…maybe not," he finished weakly. Great, something else to think about. At this rate, I'm gonna need a three-month vacation just to think about everything!

"No," Herr Huber agreed. He patted Gabriel's hand as Gabriel caught at the threads of the conversation. "You are not perfect, Herr Knight, but that is reserved for God. You are Schattenjäger." He nodded. "And I will say so to anyone who asks."

They'd been right about one thing — having Gerde and Herr Huber on their side did help with the others. It wasn't exactly an instant stamp of approval, but most everyone seemed willing to give them a shot. Unsurprisingly, the ones who'd helped guard Gabriel when he'd first changed were still a bit wary of him, but after a couple weeks of carefully planned grocery and mail runs he no longer felt like he was in danger of being stabbed in the back, so at least that was something.

He "held court" most nights in the Goldener Lowe — Herr Huber and Friedrich had been strangely united behind the idea. It was stiff and awkward at first, but sooner or later most of the villagers dropped by, a few at a time. Gabriel felt a bit like a zoo animal on display, but he did his very best to nod and smile and make nice. Sepp Huber and his wife showed up at the pub one of the first nights, embarrassingly profuse in their gratitude. Father Getz stopped by several nights, watching him like a hawk, before finally stepping forward and blessing him. Gabriel nodded and thanked him in his improving (but still not great) German, not sure what else to do, but it seemed to be enough, and the small group there raised a toast to the Schattenjäger. (Gabriel bought that round; it only seemed fair.)

He wore the talisman every night; he had argued against it, but in the end, bowed to the need to remind people who he still was, to prove he was still capable and serious. He determined, though, first chance he could, to see if there were some way to make the damn thing smaller.

It was strange, hanging out with the villagers. He hadn't done that much even before — he really didn't have much in common with them, after all, and he always felt like he was a huge disappointment after the years of Schattenjägers they must have known. And the outcome of this, his first case for them, couldn't have helped much.

He was surprised to find them for the most part accepting and nonjudgmental. He was the Schattenjäger, and that seemed to mean more than anything else. You are the nobility of this place, Gabriel, Friedrich said when he expressed his confusion. They will allow you many things that they would never tolerate in their neighbors. And what the heck was that about? Him, nobility? He wanted to protest, but the one time he tried to say something, Gerde stomped on his foot, and Friedrich covered by saying something smooth, and that was it.

They debated what they should do on the nights of the full moon. On the one hand, if he suddenly didn't show up that night, people might think he was still out of control and hiding. On the other, he really didn't want to be cooped up inside, just in case. And what if I do change or go nuts or something? He never aired his doubts out loud, but he was sure he wasn't really hiding it from anyone. Especially when they were probably thinking the same thing.

In the end, Herr Huber came to the rescue. "I will go to visit my sister the morning after; I think I will need to close a little early, after all." He gave Gabriel a knowing look. "But only the one day! The others, I will still be open late."

Relieved and a bit touched, Gabriel grinned. "Well, if you've gotta, you've gotta."

Herr Huber lifted his eyes to the heavens for patience.

Not that they had any illusions they were fooling people, but it did give Gabriel a nice out. It still didn't make it easy. He'd more or less mastered ignoring the wolf on the third night, with the moon's influence starting to wane, and he'd managed the first night before, at least for a while. But the night of the fullest moon was brutal.

Ten o'clock was the time Herr Huber had decided to close — ridiculously early for a bar, Gabriel would've said any other time. Hell, most folks in the city were just getting ready to go out! Tonight, though, he was counting the minutes. Or would be, if he could spare enough attention to the clock. Deep breaths, hang on. He did his best to talk and answer and drink and look normal, but whether or not he was managing it, he didn't have enough concentration to figure out. Or much care. That was reserved for Stay human. Keep your temper. Ignore the moon. When Herr Huber announced last call, he nearly sobbed in relief. Then there were the pleasant good-byes, and see-you-tomorrows, and making their way back to the schloss, his muscles practically snapping with the tension.

In the driveway just before the bridge, Friedrich turned him around, lifting Gabriel's hands. His nails had dug into his palms hard enough to draw blood, and he tried to force himself to open them, shaking his head when he couldn't.

Friedrich raised one to his mouth, his tongue flicking over the abused skin, his breath warm against his palm. Gabriel groaned, his breath quickening, and managed to twitch that hand open just a little. Friedrich smiled and tugged at Gabriel's shirt. He needed no further encouragement, tearing stitches in his fumbling haste to be free of his clothing, his skin already rippling as he tore off the last of his clothes. Then he was free, and Friedrich was with him, and they ran.

Grace read Gerde's latest letter again, caught between relief and anger.

I didn't want to write you earlier, not until I was certain what to say. Gabriel has returned.

And that was good news, it was. He was back, he was sane. Well, as sane as he ever was, she thought with a mix of disapproval and affection. Which was to say, reckless, thoughtless, careless, and clueless, but not homicidal. For whatever that's worth. Because he might not be, but he was still hanging out with that…that…and Gerde was encouraging him!

He is helping Gabriel, and there have been no problems yet,

she wrote. Yet! But Gerde didn't know what he was like, she hadn't read that letter… A chill went down Grace's spine. Gabriel had. And he ran off and joined him! Her brain supplied an image so ludicrous she laughed, immediately stifling the half-hysterical sound. Get a grip, Grace. This is Gabriel we're talking about, she reminded herself. Never met a blonde he didn't like. And he probably never looked at the stuff about Ludwig I sent him. That baron had better not try for more than "friendship", or he'll end up with his balls in a sling!

It was a comforting thought, and she held onto it in the face of other worries. He should have written me himself. He can't trust that baron. We need to find some way to kill him, to get Gabriel back to himself. Without the Schattenjäger library, there was only so much she could do, but she'd managed to scan in some of the more important texts before she'd left, and she'd been compiling a database of that and whatever else she could find anywhere that seemed like it might be useful.

She sat at her laptop with a set expression. One of us has to face reality, Gabriel. If you can't on your own, I'll just have to show it to you.

More people than usual showed up the next night, and Friedrich shared a glance with Gabriel. Whether they had passed some test by making it through the full moon, or everyone had to see for themselves just how normal they were, he didn't know them well enough to say, and Gabriel's shrug indicated that he didn't, either. He couldn't smell more than the usual hostility, though, and Gerde was smiling, so he did his best to relax.

Each night they had done this, Gabriel had taken center stage — he was the Schattenjäger, after all, the new wolf, the one that they had to be most certain of; he himself was an unknown quantity, an interloper, but not quite so much a concern. There were eyes on him, but rarely many questions. Whatever had been holding them back, though, that dam seemed to have broken as well. Or perhaps there are simply too many lined up for Gabriel's attentions, he thought wryly.

Herr Habermas, the Mayor, had come armed with a small stack of old papers, which he set firmly down on the table in front of him, a nervous challenge in his eyes. "We have records. Of before."

Friedrich nodded; he hardly had to ask of when he meant. "I would have expected no less," he assured him. "My father was a murderer, and he was executed. Such things must be recorded, yes?"

Herr Habermas relaxed a little, but tapped the papers. "They were requested, later. From Brazil."

Friedrich smiled at him. "Yes, that was me," he confirmed, and shook his head. "You need have no fear that I was or am out for revenge, to find the names of those responsible. Although perhaps your predecessor should have thought of such a thing before releasing them." He raised an eyebrow at him. "But I wished only to find out as much as I could about what had happened."

He too a drink from his beer, looking into its depths. "I had not known, before then, that he had made confession, asked for forgiveness at the last." He couldn't help but wonder what had brought that on — genuine remorse, or simply fear of damnation? He realized that he was being asked a question and shook off the dark mood. "I am sorry, Herr Habermas. Yes?"

"The records do not show how you escaped the fire." It was asked with a mixture of curiosity and fear, and Friedrich's instincts went on alert. Tread carefully.

He shrugged, nodding casually at Gabriel. "I believe the family records might say, if you would like to know the particulars. I was very young," he explained with an apologetic smile. "I know only that it was Victor von Ritter's doing."

The mayor was visibly taken aback. "The Schattenjäger? But he had to know—!"

"I am certain that he did," Friedrich agreed. He tapped his stein thoughtfully. "I thought for some time that he had people watching me, to report if I were to become a danger. But he seems not to have passed the word to his descendants." He spread his hands. "Gabriel, after all, knew nothing of me."

Herr Habermas looked doubtful, but he smelled less hostile, if no less troubled. "And if he had, perhaps these killings would not have happened." He raised his chin determinedly. "They were not you, perhaps, but you are responsible, nevertheless."

"Yes," Friedrich agreed, and smiled sadly into the astonished silence. "I made a very poor decision, I am afraid. I was…" he let some of his very real pain bleed into his voice, "very lonely."

The line of Herr Habermas' shoulders relaxed, and sympathy shaded his face. His eyes were still determined, though, still doubtful. "And how do we know you will not make such mistakes in future?"

Friedrich smiled. "Ah, Herr Habermas, that one is easy — Gabriel."

Let him make what he would of that.

People still eyed him when he went to get the mail or buy shampoo, but really, they'd done that before all this, so Gabriel was counting it a win. He'd waved at a couple folks and smiled at Frau Holstedder and hadn't gotten any bug-eyed looks, so that was a victory, too. The letter in his hands was another story.

My dearest Gabriel,

I was so pleased to hear from you. I'm glad to hear your work is going so well, and I'm very much obliged for the money you've been sending, but you know I'd rather have you here, dear. It seems forever since you've visited, though I know it's been only a year.

I hope I will see you for Christmas again this year? Your work shouldn't keep you so busy as that. Not to get morbid, dear, but there's no telling how many more Christmases I'll have in me, and I would so love to spend them with family.

I can only assume from your questions about my romantic life that you may be contemplating one of your own. Has some lucky woman finally managed to find your interest? Is it that charming Gerde I've spoken to when I called before? That woman is a gem, Gabriel — you treat her right, you hear? And that Grace, too — don't think I don't know she's all but running that shop on her own now, and she's even called from time to time to find out if I'm well.

Which I am, apart from missing you. I just seem to rattle about in this old place these days. Not that you were here much when you lived in town, but somehow it seems emptier now. I've been having the girls over for bridge and knitting and quilting and such, to fill up the space. Maddy asked if I'd care to spend the holidays with her, but I told her that's all right, my grandson will be home soon. I trust I was telling the truth; these lights are a bit much for me to get up on my own.

Love,

Gran

He winced and threw himself back in his chair. Damn, Gran. She sure did the guilt trip like no-one. Christmas…was it really coming up so soon? He flipped through the calendar on his desk, realizing he'd just missed Thanksgiving, which was no doubt part of what had prompted her letter. Crap. He sighed. So much for thinking of others. All the goodwill in the world don't work if you don't think, Gabriel! He eyed the phone on the desk, set his jaw determinedly, then pushed up out of his chair and went to find Friedrich.

Unfortunately, Friedrich wasn't downstairs in the hall. Or in the kitchen. And Gabriel knew he wasn't in the library; he'd have seen him go past. He huffed in annoyance and finally smelled for him — Jesus, would he ever get used to that? — but that just confirmed he wasn't anywhere nearby.

Frowning, he went to find Gerde, who was in the gardens, doing… "What are you doing?" She seemed to be tipping over a birdbath.

"Gabriel!" She smiled at him and tipped it back. "I need to make certain they're dry; we don't want them cracking when it freezes."

"Huh." He stared a moment longer, then shook his head, dismissing it. "Have you seen Friedrich?"

She shrugged, seeming a touch uneasy. "Yes and no. He went that way." She nodded toward the forest.

He frowned. "What do you mean, yes and — oh. He was hairier than usual?"

"That is one way of putting it, yes."

"Okay." He nodded. "Thanks." He waved at her and started to leave, then hesitated and turned back. "Gerde." He took a deep breath and met her eyes. "D'you think I'm ready for general public? More than here, I mean. Cities and crowds."

She blinked, then frowned as she dusted her hands off. He waited.

After a minute, she shrugged. "I don't know, Gabriel. I would say, maybe — ready to try and see? Especially in a week or two, maybe, and during the day. Otherwise," she shrugged again, "I think perhaps you and he are better judges of that."

Gabriel nodded, giving her a tight smile that probably fell a bit short of reassuring. "Yeah. I kinda thought…well. Thanks." He turned again and headed off, picking his way around the edges of the garden until he found a less steep way down.

The sharp descent took most of his attention, and he was halfway down before he realized he didn't have much hope of finding Friedrich like this unless he was pretty nearby. And why'd he go off without me, anyway? He scrambled down the last couple feet and started stripping before he could talk himself out of it. He was shivering by the time he finished, the pain of the change almost welcome if it would get him a fur coat.

He stretched and shook, settling himself, then smiled. Friedrich's scent was here, if old. He could probably follow it. He sniffed it again, considering, then sat back and howled.

The answer he got was excited and happy, and Gabriel hung his mouth open in silent laughter before heading off.

They met in a clearing, and Gabriel nudged against him in welcome, putting up with Friedrich's enthusiastic hellos for a few minutes before impatiently nudging him back to where he'd left his clothes. No way he was turning back nude in this weather, and you couldn't really talk like this.

Friedrich growled at him, concerned, but he nudged him reassuringly and just led the way back.

When he was dressed warmly again and his skin was mostly settled, Gabriel glanced at the wolf next to him. "If you were so glad to see me, why'd you leave without me? Never mind." He held up a hand. "Trust me, you do not wanna change without clothes. You left yours in the schloss?"

Friedrich huffed in agreement and started back, Gabriel climbing after him. Gerde was back in the main hall reading papers when they passed, and Gabriel nodded at her; she nodded back distractedly.

Friedrich's clothes were in the bedroom, and Gabriel sat and waited for him to change, still not quite able to watch the whole thing without aching in sympathy.

"I wanted to get out, Gabriel, and you were busy," Friedrich answered his earlier question. He seized Gabriel and kissed him soundly, and Gabriel groaned.

"Damn, that's not fair. I've got something to talk about, I need my brain where it is!" he rushed out.

Friedrich chuckled, then sat down next to him. "It must be very important, for you to come and get me." There was a note to his voice Gabriel couldn't quite place, but he was smiling.

"Yeah, well…" Gabriel sighed. "My gran. She expects me there for Christmas. You think it'll be safe by then?"

Friedrich blinked in surprise, then frowned, thinking. "To meet her, I should think, would be no problem. I wouldn't recommend throwing yourself into a large city first thing, but we could try a bit at a time." He shrugged, unconcerned. "To be there and see her, why not? And I should like to see the city and woman that raised you." He laid a hand on Gabriel's cheek.

Gabriel looked at him. "I'm hearing a 'but'."

Friedrich shrugged in acknowledgment. "But. It is not that that I am concerned with. Should the city become too much, we can leave. Should the visit become a problem, we can excuse ourselves. But first we must get there. And there are not many private places on an airplane. Not to mention the stress of the airport and customs, which cannot be avoided."

Gabriel groaned. "I hadn't even thought about that."

"Well." Friedrich ran a hand over his jaw, thinking. "If we don't try it near the full moon, it will be easier. Maybe we should try a trip or two into the city, to get you used to crowds. We'll travel at the new moon, at a time when the airport and flights are less busy. And we will fly first class."

Gabriel laughed. "Is that last one for me or you?"

"Both," he admitted, smiling. "I can't abide those tiny seats and people pressed so close."

Gabriel grimaced. "Yeah, it was pretty bad when I few out here. It's a long damn flight."

"Yes," he agreed. "Well, at least you are not from Australia." He patted Gabriel's knee. "Come; we should make arrangements."

When they got downstairs, Gerde was just getting off the phone; she saw them and stood, her face serious. "Gabriel, I think there is a case."

"Fuck."

Friedrich stared at him, and he had the grace to blush. "Sorry," he told Gerde.

She grimaced apologetically. "Unfortunately, the things of darkness rarely wait for convenient times for us."

"Yeah, well," Gabriel shrugged, "guess they wouldn't be evil if they did. What is it?" He pulled up a chair, and she sat back down behind her desk. Friedrich took the bench by the wall and watched, as curious how Gabriel would handle this as he was about the case.

"I'm not certain." She passed Gabriel a letter. "This came in the post. Also, I just spoke with Herr Schäuble — this is what else he told me." She handed him another piece of paper and waited for him to read everything. "I have one or two thoughts, but I would have to look into them."

He gave her a somewhat strained smile; Friedrich could smell his anxiety. "That's okay, darlin'; that's my job, isn't it?"

Gabriel frowned as he read over the pages, then looked up at Gerde. "You think this is a Schattenjäger case?"

She nodded.

He grimaced. "We're sure there's just no…babies gone missing and wild monkeys, or something?"

Her look told Gabriel and Friedrich both exactly what she thought of that.

"Yeah, I know. Okay." Gabriel folded the letter, his expression grim. "Where is this Rohrdorf?"

"Around two hours north, by car." She turned to the desk and pulled out a map. "In Schwaben." She looked for a moment, then pointed it out. "Here."

"Dot's about the same size as Rittersberg," Gabriel noted.

Gerde nodded. "It is…maybe slightly larger, not so compact."

"Damn, you know every city in Germany?" he asked, clearly impressed.

Gerde shrugged. "Frau Keller's son Rudy married a girl from there. How do you think they knew about you?"

"Point." Gabriel sighed. "Guess I'd better go look into it, huh?"

"They will be expecting it." She looked between the two of them, her hands twisting in that nervous habit she had.

"This could be a good opportunity," Friedrich spoke up. "Meeting strangers who are unaware, and acting as Schattenjäger."

"Don't have much choice anyway, do I?" Gabriel's jaw clenched. "I'm not letting this thing, whatever it is, hurt any more people." He nodded at Gerde. "Tell 'em I'll be there tomorrow."

She straightened and nodded, and despite her worry, Friedrich could see she approved.

As she reached for the phone, Friedrich joined Gabriel. "So, what is this case?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Some kind of psychotic forest baby? Nothing I've ever heard of before."

Friedrich raised an eyebrow at the description. "Well, you have one day to figure it out. Would you like me to help with your research?"

"Research?" Gabriel blinked. "Oh. Yeah, I guess." He looked guilty and angry in that way that Friedrich had begun to label "Grace". "What are we supposed to look up? We don't know anything about it yet."

"That is why you research, Gabriel." He shook his head. "What else would you do — run in without knowing anything?"

Gabriel's look said it all. Friedrich stared at him, and Gabriel scowled. "Hey, I'm more a hands-on kind of guy!"

"Be that as it may, Gabriel, I should prefer not to have you killed by a 'psychotic forest baby'. Why don't we see what the library has to say? That is, after all, what it is there for." He waved him toward the stairs.

"I'm coming, too," Gerde announced, catching up to them. "This is what I have trained for."

There was something in her eyes that gave Friedrich pause, and he took her hand, pressing it between his. "I apologize, Gerde; I should have asked. I have no wish to usurp your duties. Besides, you will undoubtedly be more help, given your knowledge of the library and of previous cases."

She smiled at him, her expression determined and proud. "This is my job, to help the Schattenjäger." She nodded. "However, as our time is limited, perhaps another set of eyes would be welcome. I can perhaps point you in certain directions?"

"Naturally." He smiled and gave her a little bow.

"Great." Gabriel turned, shaking his head. "Now can we get on with it?" They gave his back matching exasperated looks.

When they headed out the next morning, they were armed with a ton of notes; Friedrich was pleased and proud to see that Gabriel had taken them in the book and with the pen he'd given him. That was, however, the most positive thing about their research — they'd turned up both too much and too little; too many possibilities, not enough known about any of them.

They had agreed that Friedrich would go with Gabriel, to help him if there were problems, and that Gerde would stay by the phone at the schloss in case they needed more research. They threw a few days' worth of clothing in the Land Rover ("Why are you driving?" Gabriel had asked, irked, and Friedrich had looked at him. "When was the last time you drove mountain roads in the snow, Gabriel?" So he was driving.), Gerde handed Gabriel a thermos full of coffee, and they headed out.

It was overcast, but the newly risen sun brightened the clouds, giving a golden cast to the quiet view. Friedrich drove on, enjoying it, as Gabriel dozed next to him. It was midmorning when they started passing more densely populated areas, and Friedrich reached over to shake Gabriel awake with a hand on his knee.

"Hm?" Gabriel rubbed his eyes, looking over at him.

Friedrich nodded out the window. "I thought perhaps that we should stop for an early lunch, in Munich."

Gabriel tensed, then looked out at the houses by the side of the road. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, okay. Gonna have to do it some time, ain't I?"

Friedrich smiled and patted his knee. "A small cafe I know, in a quiet neighborhood. You've probably met more people at once in Herrn Huber's pub."

"Yeah, but they know better than to piss me off," Gabriel answered ruefully, then shrugged. "Hell, how bad can lunch be?"

Not bad at all, as it happened; the biggest stress was of Gabriel's own making; Friedrich could practically see his thoughts dashing about as he worried over the possibilities. Slowly, though, he began to relax, and even flirted a little with their waitress in his broken German, laughing when she shot him down.

By the time they finished lunch, though, even this sleepy suburb was brisk with businesspeople out for lunch. Gabriel walked by his side more quietly than usual, and after one block his steps slowed, then stopped.

Friedrich looked at him, and he shook his head and walked a little further to step into the alcove by an unused doorway.

"Gabriel?" he prompted, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm okay." He looked around at the street, his eyes following different people for a few steps each. "It's just…god, it's weird." He shook his head. "I can smell them. Tell what some of them are feeling from it, what they've been doing. And the city, it's…" He laughed shortly. "Hell, I hate to see what New Orleans smells like." He winced and brought a hand to his head. "And it's bright. And loud."

"We should get you sunglasses." He squeezed Gabriel's shoulder. "As for the rest…" He shrugged. "Some of it, you can learn to ignore. The rest, you will become used to. The challenge is in learning what to ignore, and what is important." He patted Gabriel's shoulder. "Come on; only a little further to the car."

"One thing's good, I suppose," Gabriel said as he belted himself in.

"What's that?"

He shrugged. "I sure as hell didn't want to change. Or hurt anyone. More likely to run away."

"That is something," Friedrich agreed. With a smile, he got them back on their way.

Herr Schäuble kept a butcher shop in the little city and lived above it; he met them with an expression of almost comically mixed gratitude and dismay. "Herr Knight! I did not know you were bringing help?" He eyed Friedrich politely but dubiously. "I have only one guest room."

Gabriel gave the guy his best ingratiating smile. "Don't worry about us; we'll get a room in town. Reckoned a little extra muscle couldn't hurt," he confided. "And if there's any research to be done here, my German's not the best just yet." He waved at Friedrich. "This is my friend, Friedrich von Glower." He grinned at Friedrich as he pointedly pronounced his name correctly. See? I can learn.

"Angenehm." Herr Schäuble nodded at him. "Please, please — come inside." He waved them both to the shop door, and they followed him in.

He headed for the back, nodding and calling to the boy behind the counter, who stared at them as they passed.

"How many folks around here know why we're here, Herr Schäuble?"

"Please." He nodded the to a small couch. "Coffee?"

Gabriel grinned. "Now you're speaking my language."

Friedrich nodded, and Herr Schäuble poured them each a cup. "Myself, Herr Gmelin the mayor, Herr Doktor Baumann, Frau Elser that runs the pub, a few of the others — we are the ones who asked you here. Word has spread a bit, I think." He passed them their cups and sat. "Many who were there, who saw when they brought Konrad in with his face chewed half off," he swallowed, looking sick, then straightened in his chair, steeling himself. "They may not all agree with us, but they are willing to try. Some of the younger ones, of course, they think we are old-fashioned and superstitious; there is no such thing as ghosts, of course!" He snorted. "Fewer of them think that now, with Herr Lorenz talking about evil babies, but even so, some of them refuse to believe." He shrugged. "You know how it is, I am sure."

"Yeah," Gabriel agreed. "Hell, it's hard for me to believe some days. So, there's just been the two attacks so far?"

"Yes." Herr Schäuble bobbed his head. "We have been careful since; even those we could not convince to stay out of the forest, they go only in groups." He smiled grimly. "They say they do not believe, but they do not go out alone."

Gabriel nodded. "The first guy, Konrad? Has he said anything about what it was?"

"He has not said anything, Herr Knight." The man clenched his fists. "They have had to put him into a coma, because of the pain and the damage."

Gabriel winced. "I'm sorry." He frowned thoughtfully. "That's not near here, is it? The hospital, I mean."

"No," Herr Schäuble confirmed. "He was moved to Rengers; we have only a small clinic here. If you will need to see him —"

"That's okay," Gabriel interrupted. "I'd rather not bug him unless we have to. It could be good he's out of the way, is all."

Herr Schäuble nodded, relieved.

"What about the other guy, the one who saw it?"

"Stefan." Herr Schäuble nodded again. "We would think perhaps that he was drinking, only he is not the type. And with the other attack…" He spread his hands. "He is…" He frowned. "Ein Landschaftsgärtner?" he asked Friedrich.

"A landscaper," Friedrich translated, and Herr Schäuble continued.

"He works in the winters tying the plants and clearing the snow. He is at the Vogels' today, if you would speak with him."

"That'd be great, thanks."

The local inn was a bed-and-breakfast, and the family that ran it was only too happy to have guests. Gabriel hesitated when the woman showed them to a room with two beds, but… well, if that's what they were assuming, he was not gonna make their lives any more difficult by saying otherwise. Friedrich either felt the same or was willing to follow his lead, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

They got their things settled, then headed out to the Vogels' house. It was a few blocks over, so they walked, Gabriel taking the time to get used to the sights and smells of the city, doing his best to take Friedrich's suggestion and ignore the unimportant stuff. Which seemed to be most of it, frankly. Though it did smell better than Munich, at least.

The house they were looking for had a truck in front of it; Gabriel couldn't read most of the lettering, but the name matched the guy they'd come to find.

They trudged up the driveway, their boots crunching over the thin layer of snow. Gabriel eyed the house and lawn and guessed this was something like his gran's neighborhood — well-to-do but not really rich. Like most of the town they'd seen so far. They followed the scraping sounds of a shovel around to a side path half-cleared of snow.

They saw the man before he spotted them, and Gabriel looked him over. He was mid-40s or so, solidly built, with that same kind of no-nonsense look everyone around here seemed to have. The only things that set him apart were the white bandages on the side of his face and neck, and a vague impression it took Gabriel a moment to place and a moment longer to admit. Haunted. Real or not, he's seen something.

He looked up as they got closer, squinted at them, and leaned on his shovel. "Das Vogels sind jetzt nicht su Hause."

Gabriel frowned, working it out. "Es gut. Wir willen du sehen," he stumbled through. He stuck out his hand. "Gabriel Knight."

He straightened, dusted his hand off, and gripped Gabriel's, meeting his eyes soberly. "Herr Knight. You are the Schattenjäger."

That's what they tell me. The joke was on the tip of his tongue, but it died in his throat as he suddenly became certain, This is real. Whatever it is, it's evil, and it means harm, and it doesn't belong here. How he knew, he couldn't say, but he knew it was true. "Um. Yeah. I am." He smiled a little shakily. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Stefan nodded, then looked around. "I must finish this." He gestured at the last few feet of the path. "Give me one moment."

Gabriel nodded, and Stefan turned to finish, then dug a piece of paper from his pocket and left a note for the family. "I will need a drink. You drove, or walked?"

"Walked," Friedrich answered for them.

Stefan nodded. "Come, then. She should fit three." He led the way back to his truck, and they piled in. Gabriel sat in the middle, glad for the warmth but uncomfortably aware of the tension he could smell in Stefan. Then again, if he pressed too close to Friedrich, he got uncomfortably aware of entirely different things. It's a balancing act, he thought wryly. And fortunately a short trip.

The pub was nearly empty in between lunch and dinner hours, and they ordered drinks and picked a corner booth.

Stefan downed half his drink, took a deep breath, and sighed it out. "Mister Knight, I do not know what is happening here; I would have never thought to need your services in this century. I would have thought such things were in the past. But as God exists, so must the things of evil, I suppose."

"It works the other way as well, fortunately," Friedrich said softly, nudging Stefan's drink back into his hand.

Stefan drank obediently. "Yes. We can take comfort in that. I'm sorry, Herr…"

"Baron Friedrich von Glower," he introduced himself, and Gabriel winced.

"Sorry. Friedrich's here to help me." Gabriel leaned forward, taking out his notebook. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Stefan took a deep breath. "I will try." He stared into his beer. "I was working in Ratzenhofen until late. I was driving back. I keep the windows open for the cold, so I do not get sleepy. I keep an extra eye and ear open in the forest since Konrad was attacked, in case I see something. And then I hear something. I stop, to listen, and I hear a baby crying."

"You're sure that's what it was?" Gabriel frowned.

Stefan shrugged and laughed humorlessly. "Yes and no. I am certain that is what it wanted me to think." He swallowed. "So, I stop the truck, and I get a torch, and the pick that I use for the ice, in case, and I get out."

Gabriel opened his mouth to interrupt again, then thought better of it, and waited.

After a moment, Stefan began again. "I walk along the road, to see where it is coming from, and then I see it. A small child, lying on its side." He stared at the table, his expression tight as he remembered. "Crying, naked, almost blue with cold. I rush over, and I drop my pick, and I try to help it. And then it opens its eyes, and they are…cold." He shuddered. "It leaps at me, and it has teeth, and —" He stopped, shook his head, and finished his beer; Gabriel replaced it with his own.

"I fought it off, and I got the pick again; I don't know if I hurt it, but it let me go long enough for me to get back to the truck. I have never driven so fast."

He grimaced. "And now half of the people think I am insane, and I am not sure they are wrong. Have you ever heard of such a thing, Mister Knight?"

Gabriel shook his head apologetically. "Not me." He looked at Friedrich, who shook his head, too. He hesitated. "Can I see the wounds?"

Stefan nodded and picked at the tape around the bandages until it let go, grimacing as he pulled it away.

Gabriel whistled. Long, deep scratches and at least one place that was definitely a bite. No real pattern he could figure out, but he made a note of the shape of them, just in case. "Thanks. We'll figure it out; don't worry. And we'll stop it." He tapped his pen against his notebook. "Where did this happen exactly, do you remember?"

Stefan frowned for a moment, then shook his head. "I am sorry. It was nearly to here, but beyond that?" He shrugged.

Gabriel smiled. "Hey,that's okay. Is there anything else you can tell us about it that might help?"

Stefan stared at the table, thinking. "It was as large, maybe, as a baby of six months, but it was bald still. It was a boy. Thin, so you could see the ribs. Sharp nails, like a bird's." He frowned. "I think perhaps one of its legs…there was something wrong with it. I'm sorry, that is all."

"Hey, that's great; we're bound to find something. Thanks." He wasn't so sure, but no sense letting him know that. Gabriel looked at the clock. "We've still got a while till dark; that's when this thing seems to strike. I'll look into it. Is there a number we can reach you at if we have more questions?"

Stefan dug out his pad and pencil again and scribbled his number on it. "I will be at the Vogels' until I finish; then this is my phone."

"Thanks." Gabriel folded it into his pocket and slid his chair back. "I'll let you know. Take care, okay?"

Fortunately, since the police were looking into the first attack, they'd put up tape to mark the place. More fortunately, they'd apparently finished — at least for the moment — and the tape was the only thing there. Gabriel still looked around carefully, but there was no-one there to stop them.

Being alone in the forest with Friedrich was a relief in a number of ways; between all the smells and sounds of the city, and the fact that half the people there seemed to be staring at them, it was good to be out of there.

It had been over a week since the attack, and the snow had dusted over everything since then, leaving little to see. And, thankfully, little to smell. He probably would've walked right by when he was…well, a few months ago. As it was, there was a faint tang to the air, enough to lead him to where the attack had happened.

He knelt and examined the ground, a patch beneath a large pine by the side of the road. Aside from the smell, though, there was really nothing left. He sighed and brushed his hand over the spot, searching for something.

And frowned, and did it again.

"Gabriel?" Friedrich stepped closer, watching him.

He shook his head. "I dunno. I feel like…" He stared at the spot. "Like there's something on the tip of my tongue, almost, and I just can't quite…" He put his hand flat on the ground, ignoring the cold. The feeling intensified. It felt vicious, petty. Definitely the same thing he'd felt on Stefan Fischer. He could almost — then it was gone, leaving a slimy taste at the back of his throat. He stood up quickly, scrubbing his hand on his pants in disgust.

Friedrich gripped his shoulder, and he took a deep breath, consciously filling his lungs with his clean, familiar scent.

"What is it?"

Gabriel grimaced in frustration. "Nothing. Just feelings. Not a damn thing really, just enough to put me off my dinner." Not to mention it was pretty damned disturbing he'd felt anything, but he was almost resigned to his life getting weirder by now. How much more of a freak can I get?

Brushing his hands off one last time, he looked around the roadside clearing, but there was nothing useful he could see; chances were if there had been anything, the police had gotten it. "Let's go. At least we've got some stuff for Gr— for Gerde to look up."

They called her from their room. She listened to their descriptions, asked a few questions, and said she'd get back to them. Which meant it was time for Gabriel's least favorite part — waiting. He lasted about five minutes in their room before he jumped up. "The family. If Konrad has any, maybe they know something about why he was attacked."

Most of the family, it turned out, were staying by the hospital, but his sister had remained in town to hold down the fort for them, and Herr Schäuble gave them the address. Not quite as swank as the last place, but they still didn't seem to be hurting for anything. The house was almost painfully tasteful, just barely the right side of bland, and Gabriel struggled to hide his distaste.

"What is it?" Friedrich murmured at his elbow, and Gabriel rolled his eyes, kicking whatever sense or smell it was that gave him away.

"Nothing. It's just so damn…" He waved his hand at the little house. "Normal."

Friedrich looked at him oddly. "You make that sound like a curse. I thought you wanted to be normal."

Gabriel glanced at him guiltily, then away, focussing on the job. "Not like that," he answered firmly. "I've never been normal like that." He'd never even been as normal as he'd thought at the time, had he? My whole life I was waiting for Wolfgang's call, long before I knew it. He sighed. "Might as well see what she knows."

It didn't take long to figure out that whatever she knew, she wasn't about to tell them. Her brother was hurt, was maybe dying, the whole Schattenjäger thing was a load of shit, Stefan Fischer was an idiot, and they should get the hell out and leave her alone. Or at least, that was what Gabriel pieced together from her incensed German. Okay, the last part was pure guesswork, but since she showed them the door, he figured it was a pretty good guess. He never had any hope of getting a word in edgewise; Friedrich managed a few, but the lady didn't budge.

"Well." Gabriel looked over at him as they stood on the sidewalk again. "That went pretty well."

Friedrich chuckled. "You have an interesting definition of 'well', Gabriel."

They were halfway to the street when running footsteps caught them up. They looked back to see a teenaged girl looking furtively over her shoulder. She ran past, gesturing to them to follow, and glancing at each other, they did.

She slowed down once they left sight of the house, and grinned at them. "Come. We can talk here." She led them the next block over to a small park, mostly deserted at this hour, and sat on a bench that had been cleared of snow. "Mother will kill me if she catches me with you." She grinned, undaunted at the prospect, then grew serious. "But anything that may help uncle Konrad, I want to do."

"What's your name?"

She cocked her head at him. "Susannah. You're American?" She switched to English, to Gabriel's relief and chagrin. "Do you know what it is that attacked him?"

"Not yet." Gabriel sat next to her and faltered momentarily, distracted by her scent. Down, boy — she's half your age! It was a disturbing enough thought to help, but even as he thought it, the scent spiked, got sharper, and she smiled at him. Damn, still got it! warred with Jesus Christ, she's a kid! and he lost his train of thought.

"We will." Friedrich squatted in front of them, one hand resting on the bench between their knees. He looked at the girl, as if all his attention was on her question, but the side of his body pressed against Gabriel's leg.

Gabriel took a deep breath, focussing on him, and gripped the edge of the bench, steadying himself. "We were hoping you or your mom could tell us something that might help."

She shrugged. "Like what?"

"Anything unusual happen with him lately? Any strangers hanging around? What was he doing in the woods that night?"

She shook her head. "Nothing unusual. No strangers, only tourists passing through sometimes. He is a runner," she explained, pointing down the street. "There is a road, it meets the forest road, then another that comes back. He runs most evenings, after work."

Gabriel frowned and dug out his map of the area and a pen. "Show me." He held the map carefully between them and marked the route as she pointed it out. "Thanks." He folded it and stuffed it back in his pocket, then stood and dusted off his jeans. "We should probably get going. If you think of anything else, let Herr Schäuble know, okay? He can get in touch with us."

She smiled at them, looking a little disappointed. "I will."

Gabriel nodded. Friedrich clapped him on the shoulder, and they headed from the park. Gabriel took a deep breath as they left, filling his lungs with the various smells of the city.

"All right now, Gabriel?"

"What the heck was that?" He blurted, then waved it off. "Never mind. I know what it was." His stride lengthened in agitation.

"Instinct of another kind," Friedrich offered.

"That's not — she's just a fucking kid!" He had sense enough to keep his voice down, but he glared over at Friedrich.

"Only by some definitions." Friedrich held up a hand to stop his angry denial. "In some ages, she would have been married already, with children. And she is clearly a mature young lady."

"What the fuck are you saying?" Gabriel interrupted, appalled. "I should've just, what, taken her up on —"

"Good god no, Gabriel!" Friedrich pulled him to a halt, equally horrified. "I am saying this badly." He put a hand on Gabriel's chest and took a deep breath. "In this day and age, a girl her age is only a child. That is because of society — the way that she was brought up, the rules men have put in place. The wolf knows nothing of these things. You cannot expect your instincts to conform to the rules of man."

"Great. One more thing to worry about." Gabriel scowled.

Friedrich chuckled and draped an arm over his shoulders, starting them walking again. "Well, something to watch for. I shouldn't be too worried. You did stop yourself, after all."

"You stopped me," Gabriel corrected, still scowling.

"Oh?" Friedrich raised an eyebrow. "I held you back by force? I ordered you to behave?"

"You distracted me," he countered stubbornly.

"I freed you from distraction," Friedrich fired back, a smile tugging at his lips.

"See?" Gabriel smirked. "It was you."

Friedrich laughed. "Gabriel, you are incorrigible. But do not deny your part in this. You must be aware of the control you have and do not have. If you —"

"Yeah, okay, okay." Gabriel threw up his hands. "Point taken." The bed and breakfast was across the street, and they headed for it, Gabriel's pace picking up. All of a sudden, being shut up alone with Friedrich sounded awfully good.

Gabriel sprawled on the bed after, letting the warm sun through the window relax him further, savoring the small cuts and bruises from Friedrich's nails and teeth. After a few minutes, Friedrich murmured something about getting a washcloth, slipped on his robe, and padded out of the room. Gabriel stretched and rolled over, pulling out his map.

They knew where it'd attacked the first time, and they knew where Konrad had been that night. And Stefan had been somewhere along the main road. And whatever the thing was, it liked to strike at night.

Friedrich came back already clean and carrying the promised washcloth. "What are you thinking?" He nodded at the map.

"Looks like it might be somewhere in here." Gabriel circled the area with his finger. "We've still got a couple hours till dark; we should see if we can find it before then."

Friedrich nodded. "Did you get a good enough scent from the scene, or should we start back there again?"

Gabriel blinked at him. "Scent?" He shook his head, realizing. "I just meant look for it. I — never mind. Tracking it, yeah. Guess we can do that. Let's start back at the scene; it might be easier to pick up from there." He frowned in thought and discomfort and looked at Friedrich. "D'you think we can do it like this? I mean, staying human? I really don't want to — in the middle of somewhere strange…"

Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him. "All of the work we've done, you tell me."

Gabriel nodded. "Right." He took a deep breath and blew it out, then started gathering his things. "Let's get going."

They drove back out to the site and parked a few hundred feet away so the Land Rover's smell wouldn't overpower everything. The Schattenjäger talisman was a heavy comfort against Gabriel's chest, and the dagger tucked into his jeans lay along his spine. (Friedrich had stared at him, shaken his head, and sworn to get him a proper sheath.) He approached the taped off area with some trepidation, not entirely sure he wanted to sense that thing again. But hell if he was letting it hurt anyone else. Steeling himself, he knelt back by the site of the attack, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, focusing.

Trees, plants, animals, all the usual forest stuff. A little different than the woods around Rittersberg, a different mix to things, and he paused, then shoved aside the weirdness of knowing that. The Rover, the assorted human things here (someone had been smoking just outside the scene, the butts still by the road), the dried blood. And faint but still there, the wrongness. It smelled like nothing else he could think of, burning in his nostrils.

It seemed stronger to the right, and he shifted that way, then stood, carefully following it. He was dimly aware of Friedrich behind him, but he was silent, content to follow Gabriel's lead.

They followed the scent and feeling back along the road for a few hundred yards. If it had been a deer or a rabbit, Gabriel doubted they could even have picked its scent out after all this time, but that wrongness, the utter alienness, made it stand out from the background scents like a beacon.

Right up until they came to the river.

Gabriel drew up short. "Damn it!" He looked around, but there was no place nearby close enough to jump across, and damned if he was trusting his skin to the half-frozen water. Snarling, he backed up, searching. Maybe if he could figure out how the thing they were after had gotten across…

He bent close to the ground, narrowing his focus. The scent ended at the base of a tree; looking at it thoughtfully, he walked around it, examining the bark. There, a few feet up, and again a few feet above that, deep short marks in groups of five. Claws. He looked closer, touching the spot where the sap oozed out. As it had at the attack site, the wrongness overwhelmed him, a sense of malice and evil. He pushed away from the tree, gulping in fresh air, and Friedrich gripped his shoulder, steadying him.

"It went into the trees," he explained unnecessarily as he calmed his heartbeat. Looking up, he could see branches reaching out over the river, but there was no way they were big enough to hold their weight. He pulled out the map, looking for a way around, but there didn't seem to be an easy one. They could go back to Rohrdorf, around onto the other road, across miles of farms, and hope there wasn't anything else in the way, then try to pick up its trail, and hope it wasn't dark yet.

With a disgusted noise, Gabriel snapped the map closed, folding it in quarters with little regard to its actual creases. "Plan B."

"What is Plan B?" Friedrich asked as they backtracked to the road.

Gabriel smiled grimly. "Bait."

Friedrich was understandably against the plan. Hell, Gabriel didn't like it much himself. But short of waiting around for it to attack some other innocent person, or wandering aimlessly through woods for about a week, Gabriel really didn't see any other options.

"What is a week, Gabriel?" Friedrich shook his head. "What is two?"

"One week closer to the full moon," Gabriel shot back. "And what if it hurts or kills someone else in that week?"

After that, Friedrich reluctantly agreed. And naturally tried to insist that he be the bait. Gabriel had a trump card on that one, though.

"You're not letting me go alone, are you? Me, neither." He crossed his arms. "And I doubt it'll show up if there's two of us. So one's the bait, and one follows along after, as a wolf," he explained. "And I can't carry my knife and talisman if I'm all furry, can I?" he asked smugly. "I think we'd better play to our strengths."

Friedrich frowned, but conceded the point. "We should wait one day. At least give Gerde a chance to see what she can find."

Gabriel set his jaw stubbornly. "I'm not giving that thing a chance to hurt anyone else!"

Friedrich growled. Gabriel held his ground, but Friedrich glowered, equally stubborn. "And what if it hurts you or kills you, and there's something she finds that could have helped us?"

Gabriel shoved his hands into his hair, tugging in frustration. "Well, it's not like we can personally guard the whole damn forest, make sure no-one goes in!"

"It hasn't been seen in over a week, Gabriel."

"Yeah, because they've all been —" He stopped and blinked. "They've all been either avoiding the woods, or looking for it. Tons of people in the forest. If we could just make sure they do it again…" He grimaced. "I dunno. If it lures just one person away from the crowd…"

"That doesn't seem to be the way it works, Gabriel. If it hasn't yet, perhaps it won't now."

Gabriel wasn't so sure, but in the end he settled for asking Herr Schäuble to get them only the folks he thought could be trusted to follow directions. It ended up being, as Gabriel had fervently hoped, a thoroughly boring night. Not that the fact that was a good thing made the night pass any faster. He was tempted a few times to wander off by himself just to see if he could tempt it, but he knew if the monster didn't kill him, Friedrich would.

As the sky started to lighten in the east, they met up with the other groups, counted heads and news (all there, and none), and headed back to their room to collapse. They spent the next day mostly sleeping and talking on the phone with Gerde. She had actually managed to narrow it down a bit, to Gabriel's surprise.

"If it crossed running water, that rules out many things," she explained. "And the claws help." In the end, though, even narrowing it down to ten or twenty things wasn't much of an improvement. Gabriel looked at the list he'd made.

"So, if the talisman and knife don't work, our best bet's burning it. Or salt. Or I can try to catch it long enough to get a priest to bless it. Or we can shove garlic down its throat. Or we can draw crosses on it with the ashes from burning an afterbirth, or possibly a baby cow. I don't know about you, but I'm really hoping it doesn't come to that one."

"The others would be better," Friedrich agreed.

"And just stabbing it would be the best." Whatever the story was on the Schattenjäger's dagger, the stuff in the library seemed to show it'd kill just about anything.

They could always hope.

The forest was quiet that night, or so Gabriel would've said a few months ago. He closed his eyes and drew in a breath, trying to get used to it. It still seemed much stranger to hear and smell like this when he was himself — a part of his brain just refused to believe it was possible.

Yeah, and turning into a fucking wolf is? He opened his eyes, stuck his hands in his pockets, and wandered on as if he hadn't a care in the world. Here I am, look — just an average clueless guy walking through the woods. At night. All alone.

Hopefully it didn't have his senses. He could smell Friedrich following along at a distance, alert and wary. He was a little annoyed at the thought he needed help; wasn't he grown man? Then again, a little backup never hurt. Then again, if I'd just killed von Zell without asking for backup, maybe I wouldn't be here. He remembered that moment he'd run straight to Friedrich and sighed. Yeah, and maybe I'd be in the ground, along with a lot of other people. And he was forced to admit he wasn't bad as a detective, but as a straight-out hunter, he wasn't exactly the best. Wasn't much call for tracking and killing things in a modern city. Admit it, Gabriel; you suck. He'd been learning, though; been doing okay as a wolf, finding rabbits and deer and such. Maybe that was the trick — if he could hunt game as a wolf, maybe he could learn to use that to hunt evil things as a human. It should be just like the scent thing — remember it as a wolf and do it now. Reluctantly, he focused on those hunts, the way they felt, they way he felt during them.

His mind on that, it took a moment for the sight of the thing to register, and then he stopped dead in shock.

"Christ!" Stefan was right — lying there on the ground, it looked just like a baby — helpless, cold, maybe injured. He faltered. Maybe this was a baby, not the thing they were looking for? He edged closer.

And shook himself, coming to a halt. He drew in a deep breath, scenting it. No — it was exactly what they were looking for. He set his jaw and slid the talisman out from its place under his shirt, his hand going back to grip the dagger.

He was only a step or two away when the thing opened up its eyes. It met his coldly, then they slid down to his chest, and it jumped up with a sound like a wounded cat.

Gabriel cursed and grabbed for it, but it was fast. Its claws sunk into his arm as he pulled the dagger with the other hand. He slashed at it, opening a bloodless cut on its arm, and it bared pointed teeth at him in a hiss, digging in its claws, doing its best to push the talisman away. He clung to it desperately, refusing to drop it this time.

Then Friedrich was there, snarling and snapping at its back. It whirled toward him, and he danced away. Gabriel took the opening to stab it, but the pain in his arm threw his aim off, and he sunk the dagger into its shoulder. It screeched and turned back to him; he moved to kick it away, and it went for his leg. He dodged, but not far enough, and yelled as its teeth and claws sank in deep. It savaged him, the pain excruciating, but he steeled himself and moved, faster than he would have thought possible, his dagger sinking into the back of its neck.

It gave a sickening gurgle, its jaws briefly clenching on him further before it went limp. Gabriel collapsed as it let go, doing his best to keep an eye on it. Friedrich stepped closer, then growled, his jaws closing over its neck and biting its head off in one snap. There was still no blood, but Gabriel winced at the sound.

Then he must've lost some time, because Friedrich was there, human and naked, propping him up, tugging at his jacket, then his shirt.

His shirt? "Don't think it's the time for that," he joked weakly.

Friedrich made a disgusted noise. "We should bind your leg to stop the bleeding."

Oh. Right. He let Friedrich strip it off and tear it up, gritting his teeth as he tied it over and around his leg. Then he was helping him back into his jacket, and Gabriel fumbled for the dagger, tucking it away. Friedrich helped him up, supporting him, and Gabriel had a brief bout of very unpleasant déjà vu. "Why do they always go for my fucking legs? If I turn into one of those…"

"Neither of the others have, and Gerde found nothing of the sort, either," Friedrich pointed out. "It could, however, become infected. Come on."

Gabriel had assumed they would go to the clinic in town, but instead, once Friedrich had dressed he found himself bundled into the back of the Land Rover. Friedrich quickly collected their things and woke Herr Schäuble to tell him they had been successful, and they headed off.

They were driving fast with the windows half-open when the cold roused Gabriel enough to ask about it.

Friedrich looked back at him in the mirror and gave him a quirk of the lips that was almost a smile. "You will heal faster now, and you are hardier. I think it important to get you to Rittersberg, where people will not ask awkward questions."

Gabriel frowned, convinced that wasn't all of it, but he wasn't in the mood to ask more. He wasn't sure how long the trip back took, but there were still a few lights on in town when they pulled into the square. He'd fallen into a light doze, but woke when the Rover stopped. Friedrich hopped out, and Gabriel watched him head to the nearest shop — the little general store was closed, but the lights were still on, and he went in anyway, the shopkeeper coming from the back as he came in. They spoke for a few minutes, and Gabriel, impatient, pulled himself out of the seat and swung to the ground. His vision greyed as the pain hit, but he made it a step or two before he fell over, his jaw clenched to avoid screaming.

"Herr Knight!" The shopkeeper was a step behind Friedrich, who hauled him up, growling.

"Stubborn, crazy…"

"My finer qualities," Gabriel joked weakly.

"Unfortunately," Friedrich agreed with grim humor. He got Gabriel into the store, and Gabriel gave them both a weak smile as he slid down the counter to sit on the floor. Friedrich spoke to the man in rapid German, and Gabriel's brain was too fuzzy to follow it, but the guy sounded agitated. He let Friedrich use the phone, though, and opened the register for him to buy some things, and then they were leaving again, Friedrich half-carrying him back to the car.

Gabriel was light-headed ("blood loss", a corner of his brain told him) when they finally parked at the schloss. Gerde was halfway down the bridge already, flashlight bobbing as she ran in haste.

"Is he all right?" She peered at him, then Friedrich. "They had the bandages?"

"Yes." Friedrich held up the bag he'd gotten at the store, then handed it to her. "You take this, and I will get him."

"I'm not a sack of potatoes, you know," Gabriel groused as Friedrich lifted him, supporting most of his weight on the way in. But then there were the stairs, and he groaned. Friedrich turned and knelt, getting him in a fireman's carry with a grunt, and he didn't protest as he was carried up.

He lay on his bed as they fussed over him, Gerde doctoring the wound and Friedrich feeding him painkillers and holding him tight. Then there was scotch, and he was too tired to tell if it was the good stuff, and he fell asleep to the two of them talking.

He woke to the clinking sound of metal on glass, and opened his eyes to late afternoon sunlight and Gerde stirring something in a glass. She turned to him and nodded. "I was just going to wake you again."

She helped him sit and handed him the glass, which he downed with a grimace — a taste like that, it could only be medicine. "Again?"

"I'm not surprised if you don't remember — you haven't been very awake before." She took the glass and tidied up.

"Is it still today?" He frowned, wishing he had a calendar or something.

She frowned, bemused, then realized what he meant. "Yes, you've been asleep less than a day. We have bandaged and stitched you, and Doctor Obermaier has prescribed antibiotics. Friedrich has gone to get them."

He nodded, his head swimming at even that motion. She reached for his shoulders and helped him back down. "Sleep. It is the best thing."

He thought he probably should protest, but he didn't have the energy.

When he remembered waking next, the only light was from the little lamp at the bedside, and Friedrich was sitting in a chair by his bed. He reached out and put a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Gabriel. How are you feeling?"

Gabriel yawned and blinked, trying to focus. "Fuzzy," he mumbled in complaint.

Friedrich's hand squeezed him. "That is the painkillers. They'll wear off faster than you'd like."

Reminded, Gabriel glanced down at his leg. Not that he could see anything but a lump under the covers, but he could still feel a dull throbbing, and when he tentatively tried to move it, it seemed to be strapped up. "How bad's it?"

"You're lucky you still have your leg," Friedrich answered bluntly, his voice hoarse.

Gabriel winced. Being one-legged would suck. And what would happen if he changed — would he be three-legged? Who'd ever heard of…He frowned. There was something — oh, right! He smiled in triumph at remembering. "It'd grow back, right?"

Friedrich gave him a tight-lipped glare. "It would also take quite some time and would hurt like hell. I don't recommend it." He stood up abruptly, and Gabriel's head swam as he tried to follow the movement.

"'Kay," he mumbled, for something to say, confused by Friedrich's vehemence. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to throw up.

The bed dipped, and Friedrich's hands settled gently at his temples, rubbing and soothing. Gabriel let out one breath and took another, trying to relax. Slowly, he felt his head and stomach settle.

"Sleep, Gabriel." Friedrich's hair brushed Gabriel's face as he kissed his forehead.

Already halfway there, Gabriel drifted off to the feel of Friedrich's fingers in his hair.

Gabriel learned a few things over the next week. That the drugs made him dizzy and nauseous was just the first. That it was infinitely better with them than without them was the second. The third was that healing fast was a double-edged sword. It hurt like anything, and the painkillers worked half as well as they should have and wore off twice as fast. It meant a roller-coaster of fuzzy-headed nausea followed by screaming agony. He was better off sleeping, and did that as much as he could. The healing took a lot out of him, too.

He learned Gerde was a hell of a nurse, had studied enough with the doctor to do a great job of patching him up, and wouldn't take any of his shit (well, okay, that last wasn't news). He also learned Friedrich was pretty much useless at any more than "put a bandage on it and give him drugs". And that he was furious at how badly Gabriel'd gotten himself hurt.

Not that Friedrich ever actually said as much. What he said was things like "I'm teaching you to shoot" and "we're practicing fighting if I have to kill you to do it". And he left the room whenever Gabriel joked about it.

Gabriel also learned he didn't like it when Friedrich left. Didn't like it when they were at odds. It was just wrong. It made him antsy, which pissed him off. They spent most of several days alternately snapping at each other and sitting in semi-contrite silence. Friedrich came back each night to sleep with him, but twice he stayed in wolf form, curling up nose to tail and refusing to speak.

It came to a head when Gabriel, fed up with the embarrassment and discomfort of a bedpan, dared to try and make his way to the bathroom by himself. Friedrich found him halfway there and lay into him. The fact he barely raised his voice didn't make it any easier.

He clamped his hand on Gabriel's shoulder, eyes flashing angrily, and Gabriel glared, but steeled himself to accept help getting there.

Friedrich started turning him around to head back. Gabriel saw red.

He barely remembered wrenching free of Friedrich's grip. Didn't remember lashing out, catching his face with one fist and his neck with his fingers. His leg went out from under him, and he was on the ground, panting in pain, unable to concentrate on anything else.

Friedrich reached for him, then closed his eyes and took a moment to calm himself. One of them would have to be rational; he grudgingly admitted that hadn't been him lately, and he would have to make more of an effort to be at his best if he were to help Gabriel at all.

He knelt carefully by Gabriel and slid one arm under his head; Gabriel twitched but allowed it. Moving Gabriel's hand aside gently but firmly, Friedrich could see blood seeping through the bandages, his stitches likely torn open. His own anger rose once more, but he pushed it aside. "Come, Gabriel."

He started to lift him and got a hot glare for his trouble. He sighed. "Gabriel." He put his free hand on Gabriel's cheek, meeting his eyes squarely, his own jaw set. After long moments, Gabriel's eyes flicked away sullenly. Friedrich nudged him to turn back and looked him in the eyes more gently. "It hurts, I know. Let me help you, Gabriel." He stroked his face and kissed him lightly. Gabriel shivered and sighed, his breath gusting over Friedrich's face.

"Friedrich? I —"

"Ssh." Friedrich rubbed Gabriel's back. "Come. Let me get you back to bed before you open your wound further. We will talk after."

Gabriel was silent, but he didn't fight as Friedrich strained to lift him, holding on and shifting his weight to help as best he could. Friedrich carried him back to bed, setting him down with a grunt and examining his leg. He probably should call Gerde to help, but that could wait until both of them had had time to regain their composure. And hopefully discuss a few things.

He checked the clock against Gabriel's pale, sweaty face and reached for the painkillers, shaking several into his hand. He poured a glass of water and held Gabriel up to swallow them, then set the glass back and simply held him until he started to relax.

He lay Gabriel back down and kissed him softly before turning to his leg. He cut the bandages carefully and winced. It was healing, but still ugly and bruised. "We may have to restitch this part," he said apologetically. For now, though, he bound it snugly with new cotton, made sure it wasn't too tight, and sat back down by Gabriel's head, stuffing a few more pillows behind him to get him into a sitting position.

Gabriel opened his eyes and looked over at him muzzily, his expression the same as before his coffee in the morning.

"We need to talk about this, Gabriel." He kept his voice firm but calm. "Can you focus?"

Gabriel rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, looking at him reluctantly. "Your face…did I do that?"

Friedrich gave him a grim smile. He could feel the bruise coming up next to his eye; if Gabriel hadn't yet noticed the cuts on his neck, he wasn't drawing attention to them. "I'm afraid so."

Gabriel blew out a breath. "Sorry. I just…I don't know."

"You're in pain. And frustrated." Friedrich sighed. "And I probably haven't been helping. I worry for you, Gabriel."

"I can take care of myself." He lifted his chin stubbornly.

Not very well. Friedrich bit back the words. "I care for you. Permit me to worry, yes?"

Gabriel made a sound suspiciously like a growl, and Friedrich changed tactics, hoping he could count on at least this much. "If I were hurt, would you worry about me?"

Gabriel opened his mouth, shut it again with a guilty look, and scowled. "Yeah, okay, so you can worry. But stop the damn hovering! I need to do some things myself — I'm going crazy just lying here!" He shot Friedrich a look. "Wouldn't you be if you were in my place?" he countered.

Friedrich conceded the point with a tight smile. "You try to do too much, though."

"Because you won't let me do anything! Jesus Christ, all I wanted to do was pee on my own!" He banged his head on the headboard in frustration.

Friedrich sighed and put a hand on his head. "Stop hurting yourself any further, please." He reached for the chamber pot in case Gabriel still needed it. In answer to his scowl, he waved at Gabriel's leg. "You can't go anywhere right now." He took a deep breath. "Once you're not bleeding anymore, if you want to go, I will help you walk. Right now, you shouldn't put weight on your leg."

Eyeing him suspiciously, Gabriel nodded. "Okay. But I am going. And I want to get out of bed sometimes, even if it's just to write or watch TV or something."

Friedrich sighed. "To the library up here. You have your typewriter, and we can bring the TV up." Gabriel looked like he wanted to argue, but Friedrich held firm. "You're not ready for stairs yet."

Gabriel scowled but nodded. "Okay. Good enough."

"Thank you, Gabriel." Friedrich rubbed Gabriel's cheek, his fingers stroking his hair.

"And I want sex," Gabriel growled, grabbing his arm. He wasn't strong enough to drag Friedrich down, and scowled at him when he resisted.

"I doubt your leg is up to it, Gabriel," he admonished, getting an expression half snarl and half grin for his troubles.

"It ain't my leg that needs to be up."

Friedrich shook his head and leaned in for a kiss. "You can't tell me you want it now?"

Gabriel pulled him in again, kissing him decisively, then made an annoyed noise. "Not now," he conceded, clearly annoyed, though whether with himself or Friedrich, he couldn't tell. Looking closely at him, Friedrich could see the pain and weariness he was doing his best to master. He put a hand on Gabriel's chest and kissed him again, briefly. "Sleep for now, Gabriel. There is time when you wake."

He looked like he wanted to argue, and Friedrich suppressed the urge to snap at him. "Please, humor me, hm? You rest, and I will set up your office so you can be comfortable there, all right?"

Gabriel gave him an almost-smile at that, and let Friedrich take away a few of the pillows, settling down in the bed, his eyes already drooping closed. "Remember you promised," he mumbled stubbornly before he drifted off.

"I won't forget," he vowed. He kissed Gabriel's temple and waited for him to finish falling asleep, then went to make things ready.

Thankfully, being allowed his office seemed to do wonders for Gabriel's chancy temper, and all three of them breathed more easily. He spent as much time as he could sitting at his desk with his papers, and Friedrich did his best to give him his distance, staying in the library or bedroom, out of sight but within easy distance. They slept companionably, doing whatever else Gabriel was up for, and the atmosphere in the schloss thawed even as the outside sunk into a deeper freeze.

Friedrich turned away from the window with a sigh, not relishing this latest duty. He climbed the steps to their bedroom and crossed to the office, looking in. Gabriel was sprawled in the overstuffed armchair they'd brought upstairs, his leg on the ottoman and the TV playing in the corner, though he'd fallen asleep.

Smiling, Friedrich tucked the blanket closer around him and kissed his head. "Gabriel?"

Gabriel murmured but didn't open his eyes, not really awake.

Friedrich shook his shoulder gently. "Gabriel."

"Hm?" With a swift intake of breath, Gabriel woke, his eyes opening blearily. He yawned and took in another breath, freeing a hand from under the blanket to rub his face. "Dinner time?"

"Not yet." He squeezed Gabriel's shoulder. "Gabriel, do you remember the date today?"

Gabriel frowned. "The date?" He looked towards the ceiling for a moment, then shook his head. "It's kind of a blur lately. Is it important?"

Friedrich took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Our plane is to leave for New Orleans tomorrow."

Gabriel's eyes went wide, and he struggled to sit straighter. "Oh, crap. My gran — if she sees me like this…"

"Gabriel," Friedrich interrupted him, "we can't go."

"What?" Gabriel frowned at him. "Why the hell not?" His scowl deepened. "Damn it, what the fuck are you pulling now? I'm going home for Christmas — I promised her!"

His expression was turning darker, and Friedrich grabbed his shoulder. "Gabriel!"

Gabriel blinked at him, scowled a moment longer, then shook his head and deflated. "Fuck." He sighed, his head banging back against the chair. "I'll never make it through the airport and all like this, will I?"

Perversely, his acknowledgment of it heartened Friedrich. He rubbed Gabriel's arm. "You tell me, Gabriel. Do you believe your temper will hold, should we have problems or delays on the flight, or in customs?"

Gabriel made a sound half laugh and half sob. "I don't think we should chance it, do you?"

"I don't," Friedrich confirmed. "But I would like to give you a say."

Gabriel grimaced. "Such as it is. As usual." There was a flash of temper again, but with visible effort he tamped it down.

Friedrich shrugged acknowledgment.

Gabriel pushed a hand through his hair, his expression strained and unhappy. "My gran's been counting on me. Maybe we can leave in a week — we could still just make it for Christmas?"

Friedrich stroked his face, reluctant to tell him no. "Christmas Eve is the full moon," he pointed out softly. "We would be cutting it very close."

Gabriel closed his eyes, sighing. Friedrich brushed his lips over Gabriel's, hating this defeated look that even that creature hadn't brought to his face. "I am sorry, Gabriel."

Gabriel grimaced. "It's my own damn fault, isn't it?"

"You certainly did not intend to get hurt," Friedrich temporized.

Gabriel snorted. "Thanks." He sighed. "What are we gonna tell my gran?"

Friedrich stroked Gabriel's hair, thinking about it. "A partial truth, perhaps? That you are injured and unable to travel?"

"That'll go over great." Gabriel made a face.

"Can you think of another alternative?"

"Not really." Gabriel shrugged. "It's that or let her think I'm too busy for her. I'd rather her think I'm at death's door."

Friedrich chuckled and kissed him. "Do you think she would agree to come here?"

"I doubt it." Gabriel shook his head. "She just goes on about how she isn't up for it at her age."

"Nonsense." Friedrich smiled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "I'm several times her age, and I still travel."

Gabriel stared at him for a moment. "Okay, that's just creepy. And not at all the same thing." He started pushing himself up, waving off a helping hand.

"Creepy?" Friedrich asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Gabriel spared him a look. "I do not need to be reminded I'm sleeping with someone older than my gran!"

Friedrich shook his head, chuckling. Trust Gabriel. The man in question hobbled to his desk, and Friedrich followed, hanging back but ready to catch him if he stumbled.

Gabriel stared at the phone as if it was going to bite.

"Would you like me to stay?" Friedrich squeezed his shoulder.

Gabriel shook his head. "Nah. Just be ready to pick up the pieces she spits out," he joked weakly.

Friedrich gave him a gentle smile and kissed his hair, earning himself a half-hearted wave off, and left him to it.

His gran was understanding. Of course. That was the worst part. She never yelled, just got quietly disappointed. He promised he'd make it as soon as he could, promised to take good care of himself and be more careful on his bike in the future, and hung up needing a drink.

He pulled himself to his feet and braced himself on the desk, chair, and shelves as he made his way out of the room. He could put a bit of weight on his leg now, but both the screaming pain and the screaming Friedrich and Gerde weren't really worth it. Usually. Right now, if had to go all the way downstairs to the bar, he would.

But Friedrich was waiting, with a bottle of brandy and two large snifters. He lifted them in Gabriel's direction. "I thought you could use this."

"You're a lifesaver." Gabriel grabbed one up and sunk onto the bed, waiting for him to pour, waving him on. Brandy always seemed a bit too rich for his tastes, like a kid who'd snuck into the manor, but right now it was one of the stiffest drinks they had, and that was all he cared about.

He was halfway through his second huge glass, leaning back against the headboard, when Friedrich brushed a hand down his face. He sighed and reached out without opening his eyes, grabbing his collar and tugging.

Friedrich came willingly, leaning over him and melding their mouths together. His hands settled on Gabriel's shoulders, and Gabriel shifted, sliding over, pulling him down further.

"What do you want, Gabriel?" Friedrich murmured against his lips. His voice was intense and tender, and so sexy it sent a thrill down Gabriel's spine.

"I want to stop thinking, just for a while," he answered. He bit Friedrich's lip, tugging at it with his teeth. "Come on, screw this gentle crap."

With a sound halfway between a hum and a growl, Friedrich steadied Gabriel's head with one hand and devoured his mouth. Gabriel gave a satisfied growl in turn and wrapped his arms around Friedrich, tugging at his clothes.

It was awkward, shifting to accommodate his leg, but Gabriel welcomed the discomfort, spurring Friedrich on, giving back as good as he could. True to his wishes, Friedrich overwhelmed him with pleasure and sensation until he couldn't think, or see, or do anything but feel.

He lay there after, still too high for his leg to really bother him, and drifted in the pleasant aftermath of sex.

And tried to ignore the little voice saying everything would be okay, if Friedrich was there.

Gabriel wanted to pick the tree out himself, but grudgingly admitted that trudging through the forest on uneven footing wouldn't be the best idea. He insisted, though, on at least trudging downstairs and across the bridge to see Friedrich and Herr Huber off.

It was further than he'd been so far, and he was watching his footing in the snow, being careful of his crutches, instead of looking at their destination. When he finally crossed from wood and stone to gravel, he looked up, then blinked.

"Um…"

Half the population of the town seemed to be there, and Gabriel had a moment of wondering what the hell was up now, before Herr Habermas nodded at him. "We thought that you might need a little help."

It's just one tree! Gabriel nearly laughed, but Gerde gave him a look, and he realized what was really going on. "That's really nice of y'all. Um. Thanks." He nodded back. Then, struck by some weird impulse, "Maybe y'all can come in for drinks or something afterward." He wasn't sure what made him offer, except it seemed like the right thing to do. Hell, everyone kept telling him to listen to his instincts, right?

Herr Habermas nodded, seeming pleased, and Gabriel could sense the approval from Friedrich. The others all nodded and called good-bye as they headed off. Gabriel watched them go, then turned back, and groaned as he looked at how far it was back to the schloss.

A few of the women came back inside with him, and they and Gerde managed mulled wine and pulled a cake out of someplace, the food and chatter cheering up the place. The rest of the folks came back after a while, bringing with them the sharp scent of newly-cut pine and the largest Christmas tree Gabriel had ever seen in someone's house. They set it up in the main hall, laughing and cursing until it stood straight.

Herr Habermas' wife handed him a box, and the mayor brushed imaginary dust from it before opening it and holding it out with a little bow to Gabriel.

Bemused, Gabriel took it. Inside was a wooden figurine of an angel in armor, carrying a sword. He lifted it out and realized it was an ornament.

"It is tradition," Herr Habermas explained. "Each year from us, to give the Schattenjäger a token for the tree."

Herr Huber chuckled. "We need a very big tree these days." There was answering laughter from some of the others.

It struck Gabriel how many of the things there must be. How many Schattenjägers before him must've had them, too. The history, and the confidence they were showing in him, and the expectations…

He felt a hand on his back, and took a deep breath, letting Friedrich's scent comfort him. He pasted on a smile and looked around at the villagers. "Thanks very much. All of you. I really appreciate it." He looked at Gerde. "Where's the other ones?"

"In the attic." She nodded at the nearest men. "I'll show you where they are, if you will help me get them down."

They nodded and followed her upstairs, and there was an awkward moment as Gabriel tried to figure out what to say.

"Well. I guess this one goes on first?" He handed the box to Friedrich and limped his way toward the tree with the ornament in hand. He reached out with it, then hesitated and looked over at Herr Habermas. "Is there any kinda tradition on where it goes?"

Herr Habermas smiled. "Wherever you think it belongs, Herr Knight."

Gabriel nodded and turned back to the tree, only then rolling his eyes. Coulda just said "no". He surveyed the branches for a good place, then reached out and looped the string around one, settling it so the angel swung free.

He turned around, wincing as his leg twinged, and found everybody watching him. For a moment, he wanted to snap at them or joke about doing a trick, but before he could do more than begin a frown, he caught himself. "Thanks," he said again, his smile this time a little strained. "So. Um." He waved at the wine and food. "Help yourselves till the rest of the ornaments get down."

Mercifully, they headed off, a few clasping him on the shoulder first, and then he was left alone to stumble back to his chair. Friedrich caught his elbow and helped him, and Gabriel was too grateful to protest.

"Thought they'd never quit staring at me," Gabriel muttered as he sank into the seat with a sigh of relief.

"You're doing very well," Friedrich replied quietly, pulling a chair up next to his.

"I suppose." Gabriel leaned back and shut his eyes.

He could practically feel Friedrich's exasperation. "Do you realize how much they have accepted you, Gabriel?"

"'Cause they gave me an ornament?" They didn't give me one last year. He'd gone back to New Orleans, then. And they hadn't been as sure of him maybe. Now they know I'm here for good, to carry on the name. Gabriel opened one eye at him. "Yeah, trying not to think about it, thanks."

"Then think about this," Friedrich answered, shaking his head. "Which angel is it likely to be, do you think?"

Gabriel thought about it, closed both eyes again, and groaned.

When Gerde and the guys got back down with the boxes, everyone bustled around helping to unpack them, and soon there was a large pile of smaller boxes to one side, ranging from still pretty new to so old it was amazing they hadn't crumbled. Gabriel avoided the overwhelmed feeling by focusing on the curiosity of what they'd look like and filing some of it away for possible use in a book.

He got to hear some of the stories that went with Wolfgang's ornaments, and felt again the sorrow at his death. It struck him that these things where like a miniature history, a story in each one, and he wondered if there was a list somewhere among all the diaries, a recounting of all those stories. He resolved to ask Gerde later.

It wasn't a bad night, but his leg hurt, and he missed his gran keenly, and there were too many people and scents, and by the time the tree was trimmed, he was holding on to his temper by the thinnest of threads. He growled at Friedrich and Gerde, and they showed everybody out as quickly as was polite, and then they were thankfully alone. They helped him to his bed and Gerde left, and Gabriel did his best to relax.

He could hear Friedrich moving around, undressing and putting things away, and then his hands were on Gabriel's feet, helping him with his shoes. When they were off, he expected Friedrich to join him on the bed, but he waited and felt nothing but the weight of Friedrich's gaze on him. He cracked one eye in a confused glare, and Friedrich smiled.

"What?"

"I think some time in the forest would do you good." He patted Gabriel's good leg.

The idea struck Gabriel as heavenly, like his time spent lying in the park back home, just watching the world, no pressure. "Hell, yeah." He was half ready to go now, and started levering himself up, but Friedrich chuckled and put a hand on his chest.

"Tomorrow, Gabriel, or the next day. When you've healed a bit more." Gabriel frowned at him, and Friedrich raised an eyebrow. "How is your leg feeling? Ready for more steps and a hill?"

Gabriel sighed and lay back. "Tomorrow?"

"Perhaps, if you are ready. We can take it slowly. But soon," Friedrich promised. Then he did climb into bed, and Gabriel shifted to give him room. He sat up again for long enough to strip off his shirt, then Friedrich helped him with his jeans, and after that it was pretty damn easy to forget all about his leg.

He consented to having breakfast brought up to him. Actually, what he said was, "You think I'm gonna complain about a good-looking blonde bringing me breakfast in bed?" Gerde in turn pointed out that he'd been doing little but complaining about it, and he gave her his best sheepish "I'm adorable, don't kill me" smile. She made a disgusted gesture and walked out, which, heck, was better than some girlfriends' reactions in her place, so he figured she wasn't too pissed. Then he washed perfunctorily with a washcloth, and Friedrich helped him dress in the way too many layers he needed to be outside for a while.

Damn, why couldn't my ancestors have settled in the south of France or something? Okay, so the Alps were pretty, but damn, were they cold!

Friedrich got similarly bundled up, and Gabriel gave him a questioning look.

"Hm?" Friedrich raised his eyebrows at him.

Gabriel shrugged. "Kinda figured you'd be putting on your fur coat once we got there. Why all the clothes?"

"I don't think the temptation of watching me change would be wise right now." He tapped Gabriel's hip above his bad leg. "And if you stumble, I want to be able to catch you."

"Right." Gabriel nodded and grabbed up the single crutch he had progressed to as Friedrich straightened his scarf. "We ready?"

They made their way carefully to the Rover and drove around to the same place they'd stopped on their way back to Rittersberg, or as close to it as made no odds to Gabriel. Friedrich helped him down, supporting him; Gabriel stalked determinedly a few steps, then slipped in the slush by the side of the road and went to one knee. Then Friedrich was there, pulling him up, and Gabriel clung to him until he could get his balance again. He sighed. It wasn't exactly dignified, but he'd given up on dignity with the bedpan, and the woods were waiting.

He straightened and brushed at the mud on his jeans and continued on. Under the trees, the snow was thin enough to give him a bit of purchase, and he was content to go slowly, making his way to a clearing he could see a little ways off, Friedrich trusting him to set their destination. He stumbled a couple times, but Friedrich caught him if he couldn't catch himself, and he thankfully avoiding planting his face in the ground.

In the clearing, he leant against a tree and slid gratefully down it, sitting on a snow-dusted root with his leg in front of him. It was throbbing and sore, and he sucked in deep breaths until he could breathe normally. Then he sat quietly, letting himself relax the way he only could these days when no-one else was around. It still wasn't nearly as much as he'd been able to a couple years ago. A part of him really, really missed that devil-may-care freedom. Before Malia, before the Schattenjäger, before everything. But another part of him, much as he often hated it, dismissed those earlier days, clung fiercely to the pride of doing good, making a difference in a way only he could.

Even if he couldn't and wouldn't leave that watchfulness behind, though, it was nice to let go of the steel cage of self-control that kept him from killing anyone. He could feel the tension leaving his neck and shoulders and consciously did his best to let himself go slack, sighing. "How d'you manage it?" he mumbled to Friedrich. "Does it get any easier?"

"It does," Friedrich promised, to his relief. "You have had a very difficult time of it, Gabriel."

"Yeah, well, if it weren't for the Schattenjäger thing…"

Friedrich's voice when it answered was close and quiet. "If it weren't for the 'Schattenjäger thing', you might not still be here."

Gabriel shrugged, still not sure of that one, but unwilling to argue. "So, what do you want for Christmas?"

Grace couldn't get out of going to her parents' house for New Year's. Not that she was particularly anxious to spend time watching insipid TV and dressing up to visit the local shrine, but it came down to "come home or be a bad daughter", and in the end she chose the lesser of two headaches. She might have stayed in New Orleans regardless of their nagging, but Gabriel's grandmother assured her he wouldn't be coming home (A bike accident? Yeah, right. Asshole.), and her parents swore they wouldn't throw young men at her (probably as bad a lie as Gabriel's, but it gave her some leverage, anyway).

So, in the end, here she was in Connecticut, trying to ignore the mountains that made her think of Gabriel.

Not that she was forgetting all about him — she'd spent the last several months gathering information on everything she could that might help his…problem. After a few weeks of flipping through notes and trying frantically to get everything she needed from them before returning books, she had quite a bit of information in her new database — everything she knew or suspected might be of use to a Schattenjäger. Most of it was werewolves, but she'd found a surprising amount of things out about vampires and witches and demons, too, and hell, you never knew — once Gabriel was back to himself, he might actually start appreciating and using her help.

Yeah, and pigs might fly. Still, it was a goal.

Despite the pain, the change at the full moon helped; Gabriel's wound seemed to heal noticeably each time he changed and re-formed. The pain of it kept him sweating and in bed for most of Christmas, though, and he didn't have to ask why Friedrich hadn't wanted him to try it earlier. And being a wolf when he was in pain… Just as well Gerde went home for the holiday.

Still, by New Year's Gabriel was down to a limp when he was tired, but was otherwise good, and they got tickets back to New Orleans again. His gran said she was holding his present for him until he came to get it, and she hadn't raised him dumb enough to think that was a request. She might be easygoing about most things, but she hadn't seen him in long enough she was starting to worry, and once she got it in her head to make him come home, he was coming home.

The whole thing just seemed to amuse Friedrich. Right up until Gabriel threatened to tell his gran exactly where Friedrich spent his nights. Not that he would (probably), or that his gran would care (much), but it was nice to think he had some kind of leverage.

There seemed to be a ton of things to do before they could actually leave. Friedrich took over getting their tickets, planning the trip, and making all the arrangements; Gabriel thought of objecting, but he barely had the time. Gerde was there whenever he turned around, getting his signature on something for the repairs to the schloss, or the household accounts, or their bills with the local shops. He didn't even bother reading them, but when he dared to ask why she couldn't just sign them herself, he got a short but sharp lecture on appearances and propriety.

There was a lot to do in the village, too. Mostly consisting of soothing fears and reassuring people that yes, he really was coming back. He also, after careful consideration, went to Herr Brandt, the watchmaker and jeweler, in search of a proper box for the talisman. Going through customs wearing it wasn't his idea of a good time.

The man hesitated, seeming to be a bit in awe, but admitted he could see the need, and brought out enough clay to make a reverent cast of the piece, promising to have something before they left on the fourteenth.

They made another couple of trips into Munich, too; partly to take care of Friedrich's affairs and whatever it was Harry needed to know before Gabriel left, and partly just to walk around, getting used to crowds and cities again. Gabriel got a bit twitchy at times, but he managed to keep it under control, doing no worse than glaring at a couple people who got too close for comfort. By the time they were packing to leave, he felt cautiously confident he could do it.

They left the schloss for Friedrich's place the night before their flight, Gerde fussing in her quiet, competent way and Herr Huber gripping Gabriel's hand tightly and wishing him well. Friedrich kept his car window open despite the cold, the wind whipping their hair around as the lights of Rittersberg winked out behind a corner of the mountain.

Gabriel was tempted to pour on the charm with Gunther again, but Friedrich gave him a look and Gabriel smiled back innocently and behaved himself. It was late anyway, and as nervy as he was, Gabriel wanted nothing more than as much sex as he could get before a good night's sleep.

The Munich airport should have been just as bustling and confusing as ever, but once he steadied himself and grew accustomed to the patterns of smells, it was surprisingly easy. Easier than the last time he'd flown out, actually. He spent a few minutes wondering about the weird supernatural mechanics that might be causing it, before smacking himself on the forehead (and shaking off Friedrich's questioning look with a smile). Wake up, Gabriel. It's called learning the language. Not that he understood everything around them by a long shot, but there was enough that was familiar that he didn't feel quite so cut off. And in some ways, he acknowledged, the smells probably helped. He could read people better, orient himself a bit. And when it started getting overwhelming, well, there was Friedrich. Or a nice, quiet, first-class lounge.

He sighed and settled himself in a corner as Friedrich checked on something at the phone in the corner. Shouldn't rely on him so much, damn it — I'm my own person! But it was more a rote reaction than anything; his brain kept insisting he was a lone wolf (pun definitely not intended), standing on his own, and could damn well take care of himself! But it was really kind of nice having Friedrich around, and the protesting voice in his head never seemed as important when he was there. Some weird part of being a pack animal, I suppose. So much for being on my own. He sighed again, then smiled as Friedrich headed back. It was surprisingly easy.

International travel was never simple, but his title and Gabriel's US passport got them through with little real hassle. At the gate, he slipped one of the employees a good-sized tip to come and get them late in the boarding, then steered Gabriel down to the nearest lounge. Damned if he was sitting in a tiny seat — even First Class — before he had to. He ordered them each a brandy — decent stuff, not the airline fare — and raised his glass to Gabriel in a wordless toast.

Gabriel lifted his, inhaled deeply, and blew out the breath.

"Nervous?"

Gabriel shrugged and downed his drink. "Be glad to get there, I suppose." He summoned the bartender and ordered another — in German, Friedrich was pleased to note. Clearly the man could be taught, even if his accent was still fairly atrocious.

Gabriel raised his new glass with a smile. "Prost."

Friedrich shook his head. "That is Polish, Gabriel."

"L'chaim?" he asked, an overly innocent look on his face.

"Yiddish."

"Slainte!"

"Irish." Gabriel was grinning widely now, and Friedrich smiled back wryly. "Should I be worried that the only thing you know in so many languages is related to drinking?"

"It's not the only thing." Gabriel looked smug. "I can curse in a few, too."

"Why am I not surprised?" He shook his head.

"Gerde used to say scheisse a lot when she thought I wasn't listening," he confided with a laugh.

"This is also not a surprise," Friedrich answered dryly. He finished his drink and checked his watch. "Come; let's walk a bit, before we're stuck on the plane for hours."

Gabriel nodded and stood, swinging his arms and stretching. They strode around briskly, dodging other passengers; Friedrich kept an eye on Gabriel, but he seemed no worse than a little nervous. They made their way back to the lounge in time for the man he'd tipped, true to his word, to come and get them. They grabbed their bags and boarded, settling into their seats. The flight was far from full, with only a few other first-class passengers, and they did their best to get comfortable.

Gabriel looked around at everything, hunted through the packets in the seats, turned the lights and air on then back off again, and spent some time shaking his head over the list of amenities. "Damn. Never knew it was this nice."

"First Class, you mean?" he asked and got a nod. "I wondered if you had only ever flown coach before."

Gabriel laughed. "I've only flown at all four or five times in my life! Haven't had much call for it before now."

Friedrich stared at him, then shook his head. "I forget sometimes how inexperienced you are."

A flash of annoyance chased its way across Gabriel's face, quickly replaced by a leer. "Not in the ways that count, darlin'."

Friedrich shook his head, softening his remark with a smile. "I am well aware of that, Gabriel. I meant only…" He tried to think of a polite way of putting it. "Before you became Schattenjäger, your world was very small, wasn't it?"

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, looking as if he might get angry again, then shut it. He was silent, but seemed to be thinking, and Friedrich waited.

After a moment, Gabriel shrugged. "I never thought it was. Guess there was a lot of stuff out there I never knew about, though. Never cared, to be honest." He set his jaw, as if expecting criticism.

"It is understandable." He met Gabriel's wary look with a smile. "When I was your age, Gabriel, my world was even more constrained. I —"

He was interrupted by the flight attendants giving their safety speech, then the whine of the engines as they taxied. He murmured a warning in reminder before the noise of takeoff roared over them. He gripped Gabriel's hand where it clutched the armrest and felt him trying to force himself to relax and ignore the aural onslaught.

They both breathed more easily as the plane leveled out, and Friedrich grimaced and dug out the painkillers he seldom used. He hated the way they dulled his senses, but on an airplane, the chance of danger was outweighed by the discomfort of the noise and pressure changes. They were probably as safe here as they could be; or at least, the danger was nothing they could do anything about. He pressed some aspirin into Gabriel's hand as well, and summoned the attendant for a glass of water.

"Man, that sucked," Gabriel breathed, reclining as far as he could, his eyes closed and a small crease between his brows.

Friedrich chuckled. "That is certainly one way of putting it," he agreed.

They were silent for a while, then Gabriel murmured without opening his eyes, "You didn't have much choice. You were stuck in a foreign country, they didn't have any planes, or TV, or anything."

Friedrich took a moment to recall their conversation, then shook his head. "There were other ways to learn about the world, Gabriel. But I knew little beyond my own estate. I was too afraid to go very far, or to learn much about others. Nor could I particularly bring myself to care."

He could feel Gabriel's curious gaze on him, and turned to meet his eyes. Gabriel shook his head wonderingly. "That doesn't sound at all like you."

"People grow. People change." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Gabriel's ear. "I like to think for the better."

"I've got no complaints." Gabriel grinned. "Well, actually, I'm sure I could think of a few…"

"Thank you, Gabriel," he answered dryly. "Please don't feel you must on my account."

He didn't, mercifully. After all the hurry and stress of the last week, they both slept fitfully for a good bit of the trip. Friedrich got some reading done, mostly American newspapers he'd picked up, trying to improve his English and his knowledge of the place. When he wasn't sleeping or flirting with the flight attendant, Gabriel pulled out a book, ordered a rum and Coke, and settled in.

They were both dozing in their seats when the sound of the engines changed and the pilot announced their arrival in Atlanta. Gabriel stretched, rubbed his eyes, and grimaced. "Damn, I'll be glad to get out of here."

"As will I," Friedrich confessed, working a kink out of his neck. They'd planned for a stay overnight before the much shorter flight to New Orleans — time to relax and, Friedrich suspected, time for Gabriel to finish working his nerve up. He seemed very wary of his grandmother, though he clearly loved her, and Friedrich was at a loss to explain it. He didn't think he'd ever met his own grandparents, and his mother had perhaps been more nervous of him than the other way around. Still, whatever the reason, it was plainly amusing to see the Schattenjäger that had walked boldly into his hunt club and fought monsters in the dark be intimidated by an old lady. He was very much looking forward to meeting her.

They endured the landing, and baggage claim, and customs, and caught a taxi to their hotel. Friedrich opened his bags and pulled out the carefully packed things he would need for the evening and morning. Gabriel took a breath and let it out with a growl and a good bit of tension, then dropped his bags and headed straight for the binder on the table, flipped through it, paused, then exclaimed, "Ha!"

"Yes?" Friedrich looked at him inquiringly.

"Pizza that delivers till one."

Friedrich shook his head and chuckled, then went back to straightening his trousers on their hanger.

The pizza was extremely greasy, and a little odd, but certainly he'd eaten worse things in his life. And it was worth it, to see the expression of sheer bliss on Gabriel's face.

"Aw, man. Can't get this in Rittersberg." He sighed happily. "Herr Huber doesn't make a bad burger," he confided, "if you put him up to it, but you just can't get pizza."

"I would imagine not," Friedrich agreed. "Then again, I doubt that you could get much Wei\'dfwurst here."

"Why would you want to?" Gabriel made a face.

Friedrich laughed. "Precisely."

Gabriel had the grace to look sheepish.

After so long on the plane, Friedrich was feeling confined in the room, and Gabriel was fidgeting, so he steered them out the door and downstairs. It was too crowded and open to chance changing here, but at least they could walk.

The night was warmer than he was used to at this time of year, but it was not unpleasant. The sky was orange with light reflected from the overcast sky, and smelled of fuel and concrete. There wasn't much around but closed shops and gas stations, and it was all a bit dismal, but Friedrich reminded himself that this was not the best side of America.

The very best part was walking next to him.

Rittersberg to Munich, Munich to Atlanta, Atlanta to New Orleans; three airports, two planes, customs, taxis… Even with the break in the middle, Gabriel was ready to scream. He'd insisted his gran not meet them at the airport, and was really glad he had. Instead, they rented a car (decent, but not nearly nice enough for Friedrich's taste, he was sure), and headed to the Windsor Court. Somehow, Gabe didn't see Baron von Glower really taking to his one-room flop behind the bookstore. Besides, he didn't want to go near it himself until he found out what was up with Grace. Gerde said they'd talked and she was doing okay, but he kind of suspected there was more to the story; she'd been suspiciously silent to him. Not that I've actually wanted to talk, but since when has that ever stopped her?

So, a hotel it was. And Gran's for dinner. He'd told her he was bringing a friend from Germany; she'd seemed to think it was something romantic, and he'd opened his mouth to disabuse her, then grinned and went along without confirming or denying anything. He knew his gran would forgive him, and he couldn't resist the impulse to mischief.

They settled into their room — no, sorry, their suite — and Gabriel toyed with the phone cord as he worked up the nerve to call. Come on, Gabriel, he told himself sternly, You talked just the other day; it's not like this is new! Still, "we'll see you in a bit" felt a whole lot different than "we're in town now."

He felt Friedrich behind him, then his hand gripping his shoulder. Gabriel grunted in acknowledgement, took a deep breath, and picked up the phone. It rang twice before she answered, and Gabriel was practically vibrating by the time he heard her voice.

"Knight residence."

"Hey, Gran, it's me."

"Gabriel, dear. You've arrived?"

"Yeah, thought I'd let you know. Are we still on for dinner?"

"Of course." She sounded faintly exasperated. "As if I'd let you go hungry. Where are you staying? You're sure you won't stay here?"

"No thanks, really, Gran. We've got a hotel, we'll be fine." The less time we have for me to slip around you, the better.

"Well, if you insist. I'll see you both around five o'clock, then. I trust your friend has a watch?"

Gabriel grinned. "We'll be on time, Gran."

"I would appreciate it, Gabriel."

"Promise." He smile softened. "See you soon."

"All right. Go get some sleep; you sound peaked."

"Yes, ma'am. Bye."

"Good-bye, Gabriel."

They hung up, and Gabriel looked over his shoulder at Friedrich. "Five. Meanwhile, she did order me to bed." Tired as he was, all his nervous energy needed an outlet.

Friedrich snorted. "To sleep. I heard."

"Eavesdroppers never hear anything good," Gabriel retorted.

Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him. "Says the man born to snoop." Gabriel scowled at that, but Friedrich held up a hand. "Do you mind that I listened?"

"That's not the point! You —" Friedrich gripped his shoulder again, but Gabriel shook it off irritably. "It's not about temper, damn it. If you're gonna bring up my spying on you just so you can —"

"No." Friedrich held up his hands. "Please, Gabriel." He looked him in the eyes. "Do you mind that I listened?"

Gabriel eyed him warily, but he seemed genuine. "No."

Friedrich nodded. "Nor do I mind that you spied upon me and my friends, in the pursuit of the killer. I was teasing you, Gabriel. I am sorry."

"Yeah?" He smiled, then shrugged and took a deep breath. "I was only teasing, too." He shook his head. "Guess I am a bit on edge."

"It is understandable. I'm rather restless myself," Friedrich admitted.

Gabriel eyed his calm demeanor dubiously. Then look a closer look, realizing he could see little telltale signs — the tightening around his eyes, the way he held himself. It was reassuring to realize the calm facade wasn't perfect, that he knew him well enough to tell, and that Friedrich knew him well enough to let him see it. Which reminded him —

"So, are you gonna insist on sleep, or can we just go to bed?"

They did a bit of both, naturally, and Friedrich made sure to set the alarm, just in case, waking them with plenty of time to get ready. He frowned over his clothing. What does one wear for an occasion such as this?

Gabriel walked by and snorted. "Just pick something. She ain't fussy." He pulled on his own ever-present jeans, and Friedrich sighed and pulled out a nice pair of slacks and a simple shirt. It was barely even cool enough for a jacket, but he set one aside for after dark. It left him a bit more dressed than Gabriel, but he was used to that, and he was, after all, a guest and a stranger here.

He looked out over the city as Gabriel drove. In some ways, it was the same as other big cities he'd seen in America; in others, it seemed more European. He tried to see a young Gabriel growing up here, and smiled, seeing in the city's eccentricity and uniqueness some of the seeds of the same in his friend.

The area his grandmother lived in was neat and well-tended, the houses as old as any others he'd seen here. It had an air of stateliness that had nothing to do with its modest-sized homes — an air of pride and entrenched customs and just a hint of well-kept secrets. He wondered idly how the newest one would go over, if they were to share it.

There was nothing particularly to distinguish the house they stopped at from any of the others — its wide porch held a bench and rocking chair and a set of wind-chimes, not moving enough to sound. There was a rubber mat in front of a door with a bit of beveled glass on either side of a weathered brass knocker, and no other clue to the occupant's personality.

Gabriel took a deep breath, and Friedrich gripped his shoulder reassuringly, getting a nervous smile. Then Gabriel shifted his grandmother's present to one hand and snatched up the knocker and banged it twice, taking another deep breath.

The lady who answered was just under average height, but stood straight despite her age. She was slender and well-dressed and looked almost nothing like Gabriel. She was pretty, and had almost certainly turned heads when she was young, but her eyes sparked with intelligence and life to show there was more to her than that. Friedrich immediately came to two conclusions — he liked her, and he would have to watch himself around her.

For the moment, though, she had eyes only for his companion.

"Gabriel." She smiled and pulled him down to kiss his cheek.

"Hi, Gran." Gabriel hugged her tightly, and Friedrich could smell her happiness.

"Well, let me look at you." She held him at arms' length with her hands on his shoulders and looked him over as he tried not to fidget. "You need to take better care of yourself. How is your leg? It's me that's supposed to break bones at my age, though I swear I've given up telling you to stop being so reckless."

"It's fine, Gran; mostly healed already." He patted his leg in proof.

"Well, come inside and let me feed you, then." She stepped aside and ushered them in. "And introduce me to your…friend?" The last was said a little quizzically as Friedrich stepped forward, and she gave Gabriel an exasperated look.

He grinned cheekily back, and Friedrich sighed, afraid to ask what he'd told her. "Gran, this is my friend Friedrich von Glower."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Knight." He took her outstretched hand and gave her a little bow.

"Mr. von Glower." She nodded back. "Welcome to New Orleans."

"Thank you. I am sorry we could not make it in time for the holidays."

"Well, what can't be helped, can't be helped." She nodded at the gaily wrapped boxes they carried. "Presents go under the tree." She gestured toward the decoration in question and waited for them to obey, then led them towards a small dining room. "You'd best wash up first; Gabriel knows the way. I trust you eat chicken?"

"Happily," Friedrich assured her with a smile, getting an approving nod.

"Good, good." She shooed them off. "You boys wash up, I'll set dinner on the table."

Gabriel led the way to the washroom, and Friedrich lounged against the door as he washed his hands.

"She's taking it pretty well," Gabriel announced, sounding almost disappointed.

"Do I want to know what that's supposed to mean?" He eyed Gabriel in the mirror as they switched places.

Gabriel laughed. "Ah, nothing. I think she thought I was bringing Gerde."

Friedrich glanced at him. "So you've told her about the family …business?"

"Hell, no!" Gabriel's eyes widened. He shook his head. "Don't wanna give her a heart attack or anything." He checked the hall, then relaxed a little. "Nah, I just think she thought I was bringing someone home to meet the family at last."

Isn't that what you are doing? Friedrich couldn't help but think, but he kept it to himself. Whatever his feelings for Gabriel, he was resigned to the fact that he still didn't feel the same. He could only hope; hope had not betrayed him yet in Gabriel.

By the time they got back to the dining room, there were several bowls of vegetables on the table, and Gabriel's grandmother was coming back in with a large platter of chicken. Friedrich held the door for her, earning himself thanks and a smile. "Would you like some help?" he offered.

"Oh, no! You're a guest." She set the chicken on the table. "Anyway, there's just the biscuits left. You boys have a seat, and I'll be right back."

He looked to Gabriel to see if they ought to insist, but Gabriel was already pulling out a chair. "It smells great, Gran."

"It had better," she called back from the other room. "I expect you to eat."

Gabriel laughed and shook his head.

Friedrich eyed the remaining seats. "Is there a place I am expected to sit?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Either one. Or move to another if you'd rather." He waved at the seat to his left. "Take the head, I guess; Gran'll be more used to sitting over there."

She nodded in approval when she returned, and set a basket on the table before sitting. "There we are. And now," she gave Gabriel a pointed look, "we say grace before we eat."

Gabriel gave her a slightly sheepish grin and folded his hands. She looked to Friedrich, who nodded his acceptance, and bowed her head.

"Dear Lord, we thank You for this food before us, for the bounty of Your earth, and for all that You have given us. We thank You for allowing us to be together this day, and for granting my grandson and his friend a safe trip. We ask You to continue to watch over and protect us in whatever we may do. In Jesus' name we pray, amen." She lifted her head and draped her napkin over her lap. "Gabriel, would you pass the chicken? So, Mr. von Glower, tell me about yourself. How did you and Gabriel meet?"

The food was no doubt good for its type, but Friedrich had little chance to give attention to the flavors. After "we met while he was researching a book", there were other questions to answer.

"I own a private club, and Gabriel was looking for some information about us."

"Is that what you do for a living, then?" she asked with deceptive casualness. "You run this club?"

"Among other things." She gave him a look clearly asking for more. "I come from old money, I'm afraid." He shrugged as if embarrassed, knowing many Americans' thoughts on that. "I do whatever I can to avoid being among the idle rich."

"Mm." She sounded noncommittal. "So I take it that 'von' in your name's not some ancient relic?"

He raised his eyebrows and looked to Gabriel, who was blinking in surprise at her.

She took in the looks and made an exasperated noise. "I was married to Harrison — Heinz," she corrected with a sad smile. "Trust me to find out a bit about where he came from. So then," she continued, firmly changing the subject as she turned back to him, "you have a title?"

"Baron," he admitted. "But I rarely stand on formalities." He gave her a smile, trying for warmth without being ingratiating. "Please, Mr. von Glower or Friedrich is just fine."

She looked him over with her keen eyes and nodded. "If you like. And you must call me Ester, then." She chuckled. "Although with your permission, I will have to tell my friends I've made fried chicken for a baron!"

They shared a laugh, and after that, she backed off a little, though there were still plenty of other questions. When she stood to clear the table for dessert, Gabriel followed suit, gathering dishes, and Friedrich took his cue, despite her token protest. They stacked things in the dishwasher and wiped up as she bustled between oven and table, the smells following her tantalizingly like…

"Strudel?" Friedrich smiled, surprised.

She beamed. "It was one of Harrison's favorites. And this one, too." She patted Gabriel's stomach. "I've even got the sauce; I rather prefer ice cream on top, but it's a mite chilly out for that."

"Mrs. Knight, it smells delicious," he assured her. He pressed her hand and she smiled at him, and he began to think he might get through this after all.

They helped clean up again after, and Gabriel only tried snapping the towel at him once (and got smacked back with it for his troubles).

Gabriel's grandmother nodded at the tree and the presents under it. "Well, if we don't open those soon, I'm sure Gabriel will perish of curiosity."

"How could you say such a thing, Gran?" Gabriel feigned astonishment, then grinned cheekily. "I'd just badger you till you gave in."

She waved at him, smiling. "Which you do every year, regardless. Go on, then." She smoothed her hands over her lap. "The youngest passes out the presents; that's still you, I think?" She looked questioningly at Friedrich.

Gabriel laughed. "Yeah, Gran, it's still me. Just like always." He stood over the presents, scrutinizing them, then carefully stacked his gran's and set them on the table by her. He kissed her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Gran. Sorry it's late."

She smiled and patted his cheek. "Well, it's here, and that's the important part. Go on."

He headed back and picked up the others, checking the tags to make sure they were his. "Seems I'm last this year." He stopped and frowned at one. "Gran, this one's not labeled?" He held it up.

She smiled. "That one's for your friend, dear." She turned her smile on Friedrich. "Mind you, it's not much — I had no idea who I would be meeting."

Astonished, Friedrich gave her a little bow. "Mrs. Knight — Ester — I am honored that you thought of me; I had not expected anything. Thank you."

Gabriel beamed and set the frilly box on Friedrich's lap. "Well, there you go, then!" He set his own presents on the floor by his side of the couch and hugged his grandmother tightly before sitting back down.

There were a scarf and gloves for Gabriel — "You need to keep warm in all that snow, dear!" — as well as a calendar, and a care kit for his old manual typewriter.

He hugged her and smiled. "Thanks, Gran. This is great."

"Merry Christmas, Gabriel." She kissed his cheek.

Friedrich got a box of cheeses and meats and little jellies, with a pamphlet on each of the local businesses that had supplied them. A couple of the jars were hand-labeled, and he had no doubt were her own work. He thanked her and bowed his head politely, earning himself a smile and Gabriel a significant look that made him hide a smirk.

Friedrich had the advantage of her, having been able to quiz Gabriel about what she might like. Between the two of them, they'd bought her a bright wool blanket, a cuckoo clock (Friedrich had nixed the six-pack of beer, no matter how Bavarian), and an antique angel for the top of her tree. She wiped her eyes when she opened the last.

"Oh. It's beautiful. Put it up now, would you?" She handed it carefully to Gabriel, smoothing down the tulle of the skirt and brushing one hand over the wings.

"Sure thing, Gran." He hugged her again and went over to the tree. He eyed it, then dragged a chair over, and Friedrich stood to hold it steady.

"Oh, do be careful, dear! No sense in breaking your leg again. Shall I fetch the step-stool?"

"Nah, I got it." He grinned at her and climbed up, wobbling for a moment as he leaned forward to take the star from the top. Friedrich braced him with a hand around his waist and got a grunt of thanks. He held the chair and Gabriel as he set the angel high on the top branch, securing it. Then Gabriel leaned back, smiling in satisfaction. He stepped down, Friedrich steadying him just in case, and eyed the angel before looking over his shoulder. "How's that, Gran?"

She was smiling, too, though there was a hint of sadness in it. "It's wonderful, Gabriel. Thank you. Thank you, both."

"You are very welcome, Ester."

Gabriel hugged her tight again, startling her, before sitting back down and draining his cup. "Da— dang. I need more coffee."

Friedrich snorted, and Gabriel's grandmother shook her head. "In the kitchen, dear. Come along — I have something else for you, too."

Gabriel stood, and Friedrich could feel his curiosity. "What is it?"

She swept from the room without answering. Gabriel turned and gave Friedrich a quizzical look.

Friedrich shrugged and nodded after her. "Well, go on. I'll wait here." If she'd seen fit not to bring out whatever it was in front of him, there was probably a reason.

Gabriel carried his mug to the kitchen and poured himself another cup. His gran sat at the little table — the real heart of this house — and pulled a box in front of her.

Gabriel sat next to her, burning with curiosity. "More presents, Gran?"

"Not really, dear." She opened the box and moved it in front of him, her hand lingering. "Just some things I thought you should have."

The top of the little pile was the book of his grandfather's poems, the one he'd discovered before he ever learned about the family. He took it slowly, feeling a kind of sad reverence for it. This is the closest he came to a diary. He was so scared of the curse, he left so much behind. He set it aside gently. Underneath it was another book in the same old-fashioned handwriting, a mixture of poems, notes, and descriptions of places and people with little sketches. Not as expert or as detailed as his Gabriel's dad's art would be, but clearly it ran in the family. The pages of this book were only half full, reminding Gabriel of Heinz's untimely death.

He looked up at his Gran, wondering if he should protest being given these, but she nodded back at the box.

Next were several small sketchbooks of his dad's — again, the first he'd seen before. And again, the story they told cut off abruptly.

Gabriel set them aside for the last item in there; his eyes were blurry, and he rubbed them impatiently. It was a photo album. The album itself was still stiff with newness, but the pictures were old. Gran must've picked a bunch out. This wasn't the exhaustive collection that probably still resided on a shelf in the living room; this was a chronicle. Pictures of his gran and grandfather, his mom and dad, him as a child — wedding pictures, birth pictures, graduations and award ceremonies, and some casuals of the whole family, as much as was alive at any given time.

He closed the book and sighed; his gran squeezed his hand. "Gran." He shook his head, rubbing his eyes again. "This is still your stuff. You shouldn't —"

"Gabriel Knight." Her mouth was set firmly to match her voice. "Don't you presume to tell me what I shouldn't do." Her voice softened. "Goodness, dear, what do I need this for? I can't even read your grandfather's things, and I never did much understand your father's taste in art." She patted his hand. "I have enough memories, I don't need to hold on to things to remind me. You know yourself they were just moldering in the attic. As for the pictures," she reached out to tap the album, "you shouldn't ever forget where you came from."

Gabriel chuckled at the thought of that ever happening. "Never, Gran," he promised, hugging her again.

"Good." She nodded. "Pack it up again; you can take it with you when you go. Now, about your 'friend'." She gave him a reproachful look. "I'm an old woman, Gabriel; I don't appreciate surprises."

He gave her a cheeky grin. "I never actually told you who I was bringing," he pointed out.

"My point exactly." She tapped his hand sharply. "You're only lucky I didn't buy him that lacy shawl I had my eye on." She eyed him until he gave her an apologetic smile, then nodded. "Well, then." She sighed. "I suppose I must learn to be a part of this new modern world for your sake, dear. How long have you been with him?"

Gabriel froze and stared at her, wide-eyed. He opened his mouth to protest, but the sharp look in her eyes warned against playing her for a fool. Never could keep much from her. "About…half a year, maybe?" Was it really that long? Was it really only that long? "We're not really…it's not like…what gave it away?" he finished weakly.

"Pfft. Gabriel Knight, you haven't been in love since you were five years old, and I've been watching and hoping since you were eighteen. Trust me to notice when it does happen, please."

He blinked. In love? "I…um. We're not…It's not…" It's not love, Gran, we just fuck like bunnies and run around on all fours together. Right. Some things she definitely did not need to know.

"Whatever you say, dear. I won't pry." She squeezed his hand. The smile she gave him was tinged with sadness. "I had rather hoped for a wife and children for you eventually, but you never have been one to do things like everyone else."

"You know me, Gran." He tried a semi-successful smile of his own. "Gotta buck the norm."

"Well, he does seem good for you, at least." She straightened her dress and stood. "You've grown this last year, in ways I sometimes despaired of ever seeing. You seem happy. And don't think I haven't noticed he is quite good looking." She shook her head. "You obviously love each other very much, and that's the most important thing. I suppose I shall resign myself to the lack of great-grandchildren."

And there it was again, that word, and Gabriel didn't know what he could say, so instead he packed up the box again and stood to hug her. "Thanks, Gran."

She hugged him back and stretched up to kiss his cheek. "You're welcome, dear. Now, we should head back before your nice young man wonders where we've gotten lost."

He laughed at that description of Friedrich and hugged her again. "Yes, Gran."

They sat and talked for a few more hours after that; his gran caught Gabriel up on the news and gossip he'd missed, and he told her about some of the people he'd gotten to know, promising to bring pictures next time. He found his attention wandering repeatedly toward Friedrich, as he sat and listened politely. What had his gran seen? She was wrong about him, obviously, but Friedrich… He thought of things the other man had said and done, and did his best to hold up his end of the conversation under the sinking feeling she was right.

Friedrich covered for him, adding details about Rittersberg that Gabriel'd forgotten, engaging his gran with stories, asking her questions. Friedrich shifted, discreetly pushing his leg against Gabriel's and flicking him a questioning look, and Gabriel flashed him a quick, wry smile and did his best to relax.

Eventually, she shooed them out, declaring an old lady needed her rest. She extracted their promise to come back to visit before they left for Germany again, and to not be strangers, and got a hug and a kiss from Gabriel. She kissed Friedrich on the cheek, startling him, and got a smile and kiss in return.

They drove back in mostly comfortable silence, assimilating the evening, and Gabriel slowly relaxed, grateful he'd made it through and trying to forget the new questions it'd brought. Friedrich seemed contented, too, but as they headed up in the elevator, Gabriel asked anyway.

"So, what do you think?"

"About your grandmother?" He smiled. "She is a delightful lady, Gabriel. I'm not surprised, seeing as how she raised you so well."

Gabriel laughed. "Well now, she might dispute the 'well'."

"I doubt it." Friedrich squeezed his shoulder. "She looks on you with a great deal of love and pride, Gabriel."

He shrugged. "She's my Gran."

He all but bounced into the hotel room, and threw himself down on the bed with an explosive sigh. He was enervated by the stress of the day, but antsy at the same time, anxious to do something.

Friedrich's shadow loomed above him. "Gabriel, are you —"

"I'm fine!" he cut him off, then growled and relented. "I am fine. Just…" he waved his arms and made a disgusted noise.

Friedrich huffed in laughter. "Out of sorts."

"I suppose." He sighed.

The bed dipped as Friedrich sat next to him, and his hand came to rest on Gabriel's chest. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Gabriel closed his eyes, relaxing under that caressing hand. You already are. The touch was reassuring, and made him feel warm in ways that had nothing — well, okay not much — to do with sex. Yeah, okay, I see why Gran thinks what she does. Not her fault she's got it wrong; she doesn't know about the whole Alpha werewolf thing. He tensed a little and thought of fighting off Friedrich's influence, but really he could use a bit of relaxation just now, right? He blew out a breath and gave in, reaching out to wrap an arm around Friedrich and murmuring in contentment.

They had coffee the next morning in their room, but Gabriel nixed the suggestion of breakfast. Friedrich gave him a bemused look, and Gabriel grinned. "If you're gonna want to play tourist, you might as well do it right." They got dressed and headed out.

It was brisk but not cold, and Friedrich shook his head at how bundled up some of the natives were. The smells and sounds of the city were very different from Munich, too; there was no distant rumble of the subway here, and the green smells were different and less muted by winter. The fumes of the automobiles held less tang of diesel, and underlying the human smells was a strong undercurrent of the ocean. It reminded him in some ways more of Brazil than Bavaria.

He watched Gabriel as he experienced his own city anew, and wondered if he would get the chance to show him all the places he'd lived. It was probably a bad idea to bring him back to his home, he acknowledged to himself. The reminder of what he would be giving up, the graphic demonstration of how different he'd be — it was likely only to push Gabriel farther from him. But it was what he had wanted, what he had needed, and how could Friedrich have said no?

Gabriel's nose wrinkled, and he glanced around, then shook it off. Friedrich stepped closer, brushing his arm against Gabriel's, and he turned toward him. "It's all pretty different." He sighed, then deliberately drew a deep breath. "I don't quite recognize what anything is any more."

Friedrich nodded, hiding his sadness. "You will learn it again." Or you will choose to kill me, and it will not matter.

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair and laughed a little nervously. "I do smell breakfast, though. Come on."

Breakfast was an experience — huge scone-like biscuits, eggs, and several types of meat. A farmer's breakfast, he supposed, though starchier than he cared for. And then there were the doughnuts — "beignets", Gabriel called them — sweet and melting, quite good, though not a thing he would have chosen for breakfast himself.

The coffee, however, was execrable; he began to see why Gabriel drank so much of the stuff in Germany, if this was what he was accustomed to. Though how he could ever develop a taste for it… And he seemed to drink just as much of it as usual, anyway. Friedrich made a face and put his cup down. "Ugh!"

Gabriel laughed, and Friedrich gave him an accusatory look, pointing at his cup. "That is not coffee!"

"It is!" Gabriel grinned back at him, taking a swig of his own. "Okay, and chicory," he amended.

Friedrich grimaced. "And you drink this voluntarily?"

Gabriel laughed loudly enough to get them a few curious looks. "Sometimes. Hey, it's strong."

"That is one word for it." He made a moue of distaste.

"Don't worry, I'm sure we can get you some regular later. If it helps, you're supposed to put a lot more milk and sugar in it."

"No, thank you. I will order tea." He looked for their waiter and flagged him down, then gave Gabriel an accusatory look. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Maybe just a little," Gabriel allowed. "Hey, it's tradition."

"Choking the out-of-town guest?"

"Yep". Gabriel grinned. "Don't worry. All done now. Have a beignet."

The rest of their day went more smoothly, Gabriel showing him some of the parks and buildings that he'd read about. In the late afternoon, when the bustle got to be a bit much, they stepped into a house converted into a small history museum and wandered slowly through the exhibits and the quiet.

Gabriel let him pick the restaurant for dinner, answering questions and giving him recommendations. In deference to Gabriel's tastes, he chose a less formal place than he might have otherwise, one that promised good seafood with a regional flavor. It ended up spicier than he was used to, but not at all bad.

Gabriel flirted with the waitress for a while, but it was an odd stop-and-start attempt, rather than his usual effortless style.

"Gabriel?"

"Hm?" He looked up almost guiltily.

"I think you're confusing the poor girl. Is there something on your mind?"

"No, I…" He trailed off into thought. After a moment, he snorted and shook his head. "Never mind. Just something my gran said. I'm good." He smiled and dismissed it with a wave of his hand, and Friedrich let it go.

After dinner, they wandered along the streets, slowly making their way back to the hotel. A bar beckoned with raucous laughter, and Gabriel nudged him and smiled, and they stopped in for a few drinks, Gabriel ordering him something large and red and very alcoholic.

He chuckled and raised his glass to Gabriel. "If you're trying to get me drunk, you will be sorely disappointed."

"Would I do that?" Gabriel grinned back cheekily. "Come to think of it, never seen you really drunk. High tolerance?"

Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him. "As have you, now."

"Huh?" Gabriel blinked at him. "Oh, right. Really? Never would've thought of that as a side effect!"

"I suppose it's part of healing quickly." Friedrich shrugged. "Or possibly the wolf itself. After all, have you ever seen a drunk wolf?"

Gabriel joined him in laughter, then leaned forward as if to speak in confidence. "Never before, but now I'm kinda curious. Drink up!"

He didn't get drunk, though, nor did Gabriel insist on trying. After a few drinks, they finished their trek to the hotel and settled in for the evening.

They ate breakfast in the next day, and Gabriel tried not to pace too much. He'd promised to spend more time with his gran, and Friedrich wanted some time in the city, and… Damn it, I'm a grown man, I don't need him holding my fucking hand all the time! We've been joined at the hip for months — it'll be good to be on my own for a while!

And it would be; he couldn't argue with that. Much as he…enjoyed Friedrich's company, it'd be good to be a bit freer. But with Friedrich around, he had backup. If he slipped when he was alone… Deep breath, Gabriel. You haven't slipped in ages. Not dangerously. And Gran's not likely to do anything threatening! Besides, Friedrich wouldn't have agreed to let him go if he thought there were danger. Not that he's the best judge, a rebel part of his brain argued. Von Zell could attest to that. Perversely, though, the thought of von Zell steadied him. He wasn't anything like him, wasn't letting that happen.

He followed his own advice and took some deep breaths, looking out over the city.

"Gabriel?" Friedrich's hand brushed his hair and settled at his neck, massaging gently. "Are you ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." He smiled back over his shoulder at Friedrich, who patted him.

"Come along, then; she will be expecting you."

Gabriel laughed. "This is my gran; she knows me. She'll be expecting me when she sees me, and not till noon at least."

Friedrich clucked his tongue. "Well, I do not intend to keep the good woman waiting. So, if you're ready —"

"I'm ready, I'm ready!" He grabbed up his jacket and shoved it on. "See how ready I am?"

Friedrich just shook his head and waved him out the door.

Gabriel pointed out a few things on the way over, now it was light enough to see them. "And you've got the map, right? You can get back out here from the Quarter?"

"And if I lose my way, I'm certain I can ask," Friedrich answered in an overly patient voice.

"Yeah, okay, I know. I just — yeah."

Friedrich rubbed his knee, and they drove the last few blocks in silence but for directions.

"I will return around supper time," Friedrich promised. "And I will check at the hotel for messages, if you need me before then." They both knew it wasn't much of a safety net, but maybe knowing it was there would help him relax.

"Yeah, okay." He gave Friedrich a smile and climbed out. "And hey — have fun! Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Friedrich's expression asked the obvious question for him, and Gabriel laughed as he drove away. Then he swallowed a little nervously and took a deep breath. It felt odd, being alone again after so long. He blinked and shrugged it off as best he could, then turned and jogged up the stairs to the porch, putting on his best smile for Gran.

He knocked briefly and opened the door. "Gran?"

"Gabriel, dear!" She came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel.

"Hi, Gran." He hugged her tight and she kissed his cheek.

"You're earlier than I expected. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"That'd be great, thanks."

It was never just coffee with Gran, of course. It was coffee and biscuits and honey, this time of day, and Gabriel ate a good bit, regardless of the fact he'd had breakfast already.

"Have you been by the shop yet, dear?" She slid the little holder with the napkins onto the table and sat down to join him.

"Mm-mm." He shook his head and swallowed. "Not yet."

"Well, you won't need to worry. That Grace, she's been taking good care of it for you." She pointed at him. "Don't you forget to thank her; that girl's doing well by you."

Gabriel pasted on a smile. "Yes, Gran." When Hell freezes over. He immediately felt guilty, as if Gran could read that uncharitable thought. But it wasn't like he could tell her why he was still so pissed off at Grace. And, he reluctantly admitted, Grace had done well by the shop. And well by me for the most part. He sighed mentally. "I'm sure I'll get over there soon," he temporized.

Gran shook her head, but let it drop. "So, tell me what you've been up to halfway across the world."

There was entirely too much he couldn't tell her, of course, but over the years he'd gotten pretty good at cutting out or gliding over the parts of his life she didn't need or want to know about. He told her more about the people of Rittersberg, about how his novel was going, about the restoration at the schloss and how lucky he was to have Gerde (but there was nothing there, really, beyond he didn't know how he could manage without her). He mentioned Friedrich occasionally, and mentioned werewolves and the Schattenjäger not at all, and she couldn't ask questions about things she didn't know existed, so he reckoned he was safe.

She drank coffee with him, and listened, and knitted. He changed a couple light bulbs too high for her to reach, moved the TV to a better place for watching, and watered the Christmas tree (about the extent of his handyman capability, and she knew it). The time passed more quickly than he would've thought, and the knock on the door startled him.

He glanced up at the clock. "Must be Friedrich! I didn't realize the time." He started standing up, looking for someplace to drape the yarn wrapped around his hands.

"Now, Gabriel, don't you dare!" Gran pushed at him. "You'll get it all tangled. I'm not so old I can't answer my own door, thank you very much."

He sat back down, grinning a little sheepishly, as she went to let Friedrich in.

Gabriel had to laugh at the expression on Friedrich's face when he saw him. He held up his yarn-wrapped hands. "Sorry, I'm kinda tied up."

"So I see." Friedrich shook his head, chuckling. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Have you ever wound yarn before?" Gran asked in a tone that said she knew the answer.

"No, I am afraid not. But I am always willing to learn something new," he offered.

She clucked her tongue and picked the ball of yarn back up. "You'll only wind it too tight, and I'll have to redo it. I do appreciate the thought, though." She smiled and patted his arm, then began the intricate pattern of winding and moving that somehow turned the long strands into a neat ball. "Please, sit." She smiled at Friedrich. "We won't be a moment."

"Lost track of time," Gabriel added. "What'd you get up to? Have a good day?"

"Oh, yes." Friedrich settled in with a shrug. "Although you would likely find it very boring. I was rather a typical tourist, I imagine."

Gabriel grinned. "Somehow I doubt that."

Friedrich shook his head. "Well, I visited several of the beautiful churches. And there was a tour of other buildings; I find the architecture fascinating. I went to the town hall and library, to learn more of the city's history."

Gabriel gave him an incredulous look. "You playing tourist, or writing a thesis?"

His gran swatted his leg. "Some folks like to use the brains God gave them." She gave him a look. "And aren't afraid to admit it."

Gabriel shrugged awkwardly. "Hey, how much more yarn is there?"

She shook her head. "We're almost done."

Friedrich was mostly but not quite hiding a smile, and Gabriel glared at him.

"What were you boys planning for this evening?" Gran asked. She glanced at Friedrich as her hands kept moving. "Have you been on the river yet?"

"Not yet, no." He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out several leaflets. "Although I believe I saw…" He shuffled through them. "Ah, here." He set the others aside and held the one he'd chosen so that they could see it. "This one looked to be interesting."

"A dinner cruise?" Gabriel shook his head. Never even worked on one of those. Too rich for my blood! Except, he realized, it wasn't any more. It was weird thinking like that.

"That'd be a lovely evening out." Gran smiled at Friedrich, then finished the yarn with a flourish and a tuck and patted Gabriel's knee. "You might have a fight to get this one out of a t-shirt, though."

Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him, challenging. "I have noticed that." He turned back to Gabriel's gran. "Perhaps if there were two of us, it might convince him." He took her hand and leaned in conspiratorially. "And if not, I should be honored if you would accompany me, and we will let him wait in the car."

"Hey!" Gabriel looked at him, torn between insult and incredulity. Was Friedrich flirting with his gran?

She laughed and, Gabriel would swear, blushed. "Well, now, what would that look like?"

"Don't worry, Gran, he's a gentleman." Gabriel pointed an accusing finger at Friedrich. "I should refuse and keep you to it, just because." He sighed and grimaced. "All right, what do I need to straitjacket myself in?"

That was the point at which they realized all he had was a sport-coat almost fifteen years out of date. He shrugged and offered to borrow Friedrich's clothes again, but Friedrich put his foot down firmly, looked at his watch, and asked for a phone book. Minutes later, they were on their way to … some place with clothes, with a promise to be back for his gran at eight.

"I'm pretty sure you need reservations on these things," Gabriel pointed out fatalistically as he directed Friedrich to the address he'd written down. Some expensive shops around that area, and he hated to think what a new suit would cost.

"I will take care of that while they clothe you."

"Wait, what?" Gabriel eyed him, faintly alarmed. "Clothe me?"

Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you planning on choosing your own clothes, with no assistance?"

"Been doing it all my life," he pointed out with a frown. "I thought you might help," he allowed.

Friedrich shrugged. "I will certainly share my opinion, if you wish, but a professional will be more helpful, and faster."

There are people that give professional shopping opinions? And how much does that cost? Gabriel sighed, resigned to a few more hours of feeling like a no-class hick.

The man that greeted them looked at Gabriel a little skeptically, and Gabriel tried not to scowl at him, feeling distinctly out of his element. A feeling that lasted right up until Friedrich explained what they wanted and introduced them both.

"Mr. Knight!" The man smiled, clearly delighted. "I love your books; it's great to meet you."

"Yeah?" Gabriel grinned, pleased. "Hey, it's nice to meet you, too. Gordon?"

"That's right. Please, step right this way." He was eyeing Gabriel up and down. "I'm sure we can find you something suitable…"

"Um. Hey, Gordy?" Gabriel looked around guiltily at where they'd left Friedrich. "Can we go with something that won't make me look too much like some corporate reject or choir boy?"

The man frowned and nodded, then smiled. "I will do my very best."

He seemed to take it to heart, too, and between that and him being a fan (he'd even read the first Blake Backlash book, God help him), the whole process was a lot less painful than Gabriel'd feared.

He eyed himself in the mirror, dubious but not entirely displeased.

"Well?" Friedrich leaned sideways in his chair, looking him over.

"Not bad." He met Friedrich's eyes in the mirror. "It still ain't me, so don't get your hopes up! But it looks pretty hot, if I do say so myself." He grinned and preened just a little.

Friedrich chuckled. "I agree." He looked at his watch. "Come along, then; we mustn't keep your grandmother waiting."

They argued over who would pay — until Gabriel heard the price and nearly ditched the whole idea right then. In the gap, Friedrich gave the man his card. "Call it a late Christmas present, Gabriel." And that was that.

It was pretty much all worth it, he had to admit, to see the look on his gran's face when he turned up wearing it.

"My word!" She held Gabriel at arm's length and looked him over, shaking her head. Friedrich suppressed a smile. "Mr. von Glower, you are a very good influence." She took his hand and pecked him on the cheek. "This is certainly a sight!"

Startled, Friedrich recovered quickly and smiled, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. "We will make you the envy of everyone there," he declared. "Are you ready?"

"Let me just get my purse and shawl." She set action to words, and they headed off. Gabriel held the car door for her, and Friedrich watched them together, trying to remember more of his mother. He felt a pang of envy for Gabriel and of sorrow for the loss he knew he'd have to face. I will be there for him, he resolved. If I am still alive, whether he leaves me or not, I will help him through that.

But tonight was a night for happiness, and he let the darkness slide from his shoulders.

The boat and her crew were undoubtedly meant to evoke an earlier time, and Friedrich wondered which of the differences were inaccuracies and which were simply America. Their table, though, was purely modern, a bit formal — crystal and silver on bright white linens offsetting the black rectangle of night-darkened window on the fourth side.

With their permission, Friedrich ordered them all a light wine to start, and they spoke of inconsequentials until they felt the roar of the engines beneath them.

The food was interesting, with a lot of the same flavors he'd tasted since coming here, though somewhat more mild (and, he suspected, more tourist-friendly). He was skeptical of the alligator, but it wasn't bad. The wine was quite good, and he opted for a glass of sherry with his dessert instead of the coffee, which promised to be that disgusting mix Gabriel sucked down with such gusto.

"Come on, Gran." Gabriel held her chair then the door for her as they left the dining room. "Let's take a walk around, make you and your harem the envy of all the girls." He grinned and winked.

"Gabriel." She shook her head in exasperation, but took his arm.

"I'm sure what he meant to ask was if you wouldn't mind terribly if we escorted you about?" Friedrich asked, overly polite, his lips quirking in amusement.

She laughed. "Gracious, you're both terrible." She took his arm, too, and they headed for the deck.

The boat, a large paddle-wheel, was fascinating; the formal clothes and casual atmosphere around the gaming tables reminded him somewhat of the salons of the past. It was easy to slip into more formal behavior — just until he spotted Gabriel rolling his eyes, and checked himself. Thank heavens for being a stranger here! In Germany, he'd have gotten decidedly odd looks; here, they apparently dismissed it as simply foreign.

They stood by the railing waiting for Ester to return from the powder room. The sliver of moon was hidden behind cloud, but the lights swinging on the boat reflected off the water, lending them enough light to see.

"You do look rather breathtaking, Gabriel." He looked him over. "I understand the appeal of comfort, but perhaps I should find more excuses for you to dress."

Gabriel made a disgusted noise. "Like what, formal dinners with politicians? No thanks."

"Not precisely what I had in mind, although Henneman may invite us to such a thing some day. What would you say to a holiday in Monte Carlo?"

Gabriel looked at him. "I'd say it sounds a bit outta my league. Kinda like this suit." He tugged at his lapels. "And I ain't sure how I like being a kept man."

He swallowed his irritation and forced a laugh. "As if I could keep you anywhere, or from anything."

Gabriel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know what I mean."

"Gabriel." He set his hand on Gabriel's, squeezing it. "I have more money than I can spend on myself. It pleases me to spend it on you. There are no conditions attached to it; you owe me nothing in return." He raised an eyebrow at him. "In fact, you may feel free to pay me back as you like for such a holiday; I intend to show you the roots of a large part of my fortune."

"Huh? What do —" The light dawned, and Gabriel laughed, incredulous. "Gambling? I thought you inherited money."

"Oh, yes." He shrugged. "But my father's barony only brought in so much. And my lands in Brazil are worth less than they were. I have made some very wise investments, of course, but much of that money came from the tables." He tapped his nose, smiling slyly. "It isn't easy to bluff me."

Gabriel was still laughing when his grandmother returned.

"Well, you two seem in high spirits." She smiled and kissed Gabriel's cheek. "I'm glad you suggested this, Mr. von Glower; thank you."

"Not at all." He smiled back and took her hand. "I'm pleased to spend more time with you, and to see yet another side of your home."

She smiled, then shivered. "Good lord, it's gotten windy. Gabriel, be a dear and fetch my coat, would you?"

"Sure thing, Gran." He nodded and headed for the coat room, then whirled back to call out, "No embarrassing stories!"

She made shooing motions, and he headed off with one last suspicious look.

"Here." Friedrich took off his jacket and settled it around her shoulders, startling her a little.

"Thank you." She shook her head. "You are certainly a gentleman. It must be a trial at times, with my Gabriel."

He chuckled. "Well, he does keep me on my toes."

"I can imagine." She smiled, then turned serious eyes on him. "How is he doing, really? I don't mind telling you I worry, what with him so far away and in another country and all."

He gave her his most gentle and reassuring smile. "He is doing very well. He is, of course, still Gabriel, and from time to time that makes his life more…interesting? But I assure you, Mrs. Knight, he is surrounded by people who wish him well, and he is doing well by them."

She frowned, thinking it over. "Is he happy?"

Friedrich schooled his expression to show only thought, as he fought his own worries. "He seems…" Conflicted. Resigned. Determined. "Content." It was the furthest he was willing to lie to her. He hoped it would be enough.

She gazed at the point Gabriel had disappeared, and nodded, sighing. "I've asked the Lord to spare him the unhappiness this family seems plagued by. I suppose I'll keep on praying for him." He looked him square in the eye, clearly steeling herself for something. "I have no doubt you're a part of that content. He may not share much, but Gabriel's not had an easy time of it, what with his parents and granddad and all. He's never really grabbed on to very many people. He's grabbed on tight to you, though, and don't think my being an old woman makes me blind. Will you be staying by him, then?"

He stared at her for a moment, startled, and smiled in wonder at her strength. He pressed her hand between his and spoke quietly. "I will stay as close as he will have me, for so long as he will let me," he promised. Her assertions about Gabriel he stowed away for the moment. He could hear Gabriel's tread coming up the metal stairs, and strove for lightness. "Although he is lucky that I did not meet you first." He winked at her and earned himself a startled laugh.

"Mister von Glower!"

I speak only the truth," he assured her, hand over his heart.

"About what?" Gabriel asked suspiciously, settling Ester's coat around her shoulders as Friedrich retrieved his jacket.

"Nothing at all." He smiled at Gabriel, who rolled his eyes.

"Never mind; I probably don't wanna know."

They ignored the gaming tables, looking out over the scenery and wandering the boat, reading the information about its history. There were no more meaningful talks, for which Friedrich was grateful, and he relaxed a little in the company. The drive back was mostly quiet, and they dropped Ester at her house late enough to preclude visiting. She kissed Gabriel and hugged him, then pressed Friedrich's hand. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." He gave her a smile and stood side by side with Gabriel, watching until she was safely inside.

"Not a bad evening at all." He smiled at Gabriel, who shrugged and grinned.

"Not anything I'd've done on my own, but yeah."

"There are a few things you would never do on your own that I highly approve of." He twitched the lapel of Gabriel's jacket.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "You'd better. I feel like an idiot."

"Do you really?" He looked Gabriel over keenly, then met his eyes, demanding the truth.

Gabriel blinked and shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it's nice the looks I get — clearly I'm hot." He grinned cheekily. "I just feel a bit like I don't belong. Like I'm pretending to be something I'm not."

Friedrich smiled and gripped his shoulder. "Gabriel, you are a Ritter. The last of a very old and noble house. You live in a schloss in a town named for your family. You are also becoming rich in your own right through your writing. Whether you like it or not, you do belong."

"Story of my life," he retorted dryly. "You'd think I'd get used to it by now."

Friedrich had no answer for him but a question. "What do you want, Gabriel?"

"Right now…" He glanced around. "Come on. I'll show you where the real nightlife is. Which isn't my gran's lawn. Later…" he waved a hand, "is later."

Friedrich nodded and patted his shoulder, then climbed into the car and waited for directions Later for later. A highly commendable and wolflike attitude. So why do I wish he would answer the question?

Gabriel took them to a bar that Friedrich supposed exemplified the expression he'd heard, "a hole in the wall". From the outside it was little more than that — an unassuming door set in dirty brick. On the inside, it was — loud. He winced, and caught Gabriel as he staggered.

"Fuck."

Friedrich steered them back into the little foyer, where the sound was muted. "Are you all right?"

"Didn't remember it being so —" he caught himself and growled in frustration. "Yeah. Wasn't expecting that." He rubbed his arms and took a shuddering breath.

"Maybe another place?" Friedrich suggested.

Gabriel set his jaw stubbornly. "I like this place, and I won't be forced out, damn it. It was a shock, is all. Just gimme a minute."

Friedrich frowned, but Gabriel did seem to be gaining better control, so he waited. "We do not have to do this, you know."

"I do." Gabriel straightened and headed for the inner door again.

Friedrich sighed, though he was hard-pressed not to smile. "You are the most stubborn man I've ever met."

Gabriel grinned back over his shoulder, the expression only slightly manic. "One of my finer qualities."

Knowing what to expect, it wasn't nearly as bad. It was loud, and he couldn't keep from wincing, but he could deal with it. He rubbed his arm again surreptitiously and shuddered — being hit with the sound unexpectedly had been… You did it, though. You kept it down. Sometimes stubbornness pays off.

He glanced over at Friedrich; he probably looked calm to an outsider, but to Gabriel he looked a bit pained. Probably no more than me. With a sigh, he tugged on Friedrich's sleeve and steered for the door at the rear that would take them to the patio.

They were getting looks, he noticed — dinner jackets weren't exactly the norm for this place. He grinned back at one girl and gave her a wink, and she smiled back and her friends poked her. Yeah, I still got it. He strutted a bit as they headed out back.

With the club behind them, the music that leaked out was still plenty loud, and filtered up into the evening with the cigarette smoke. It was cold enough not too many folks were out, and the ones who were, were mostly wrapped up in each other.

"Gabriel?" There was a worried question in Friedrich's voice as his arm wrapped around Gabriel's shoulders.

"I'm fine, damn it!" he snapped. Then stopped and sighed. He could feel the anger thrumming through him, and did his best to ignore it and shove it down. "I'm fine." He rounded on Friedrich, keeping his voice down only with effort. "How long am I supposed to go around avoiding things I like in case they trigger something? I ain't just staying in Rittersberg in the middle of nowhere all my life, and I'm for damn sure not staying in every night of my life!"

"I don't expect it, Gabriel." Friedrich frowned, then glanced around. Gabriel's eyes followed his automatically, and he could see they were drawing attention. He scowled at one of the onlookers, who swiftly looked away.

"Gabriel."

He looked back at Friedrich, still seething.

"Why don't we go to our room to talk?"

He scowled. "I'm not —"

"A walk, then?" Friedrich interrupted.

He hesitated, and Friedrich squeezed his shoulder. "Come. We'll walk around a bit; we can speak while you show me this part of the city. Then, if you like, we can return here. Yes?"

Gabriel sighed explosively and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Fine."

He steeled himself, and they strode back through the club and out onto the sidewalk. They stepped out of the way of some folks heading in, and Friedrich took his elbow. His fingers caressed Gabriel's arm, and Gabriel shifted into the touch automatically, then sighed. "Come on." He headed off, shoving his hands in his pockets. Friedrich walked close by, their arms brushing. The night was chilly, but not too cold. Should be colder. Guess I've been getting used to Rittersberg. Or maybe wolves are just hot-blooded? He snorted at that thought. In more ways than one; he sure keeps up with me okay.

"You enjoy that type of music, the dancing?" Friedrich asked. "Or is it the crowd of people?"

Gabriel shrugged. "All of the above?" He frowned, thinking. "You can lose yourself in it." He sighed. "Or I could." Friedrich shifted, and Gabriel glanced over at him. "What?"

"Forgive me, Gabriel — I thought you did not like to lose yourself?" His voice was mild, but Gabriel could hear the undercurrents of frustration, exasperation.

He grunted in frustration of his own. "It's not the same. It's —" He sighed, turning it over in his mind. "I dunno, maybe it is," he concluded quietly. "But this I understand." He expected more exasperation, but Friedrich nodded, calm. He seemed about to say something, and Gabriel hastily headed it off. "It's a hell of a lot better for picking up chicks, too," he quipped.

Friedrich snorted and shook his head. "You are truly incorrigible, Gabriel. Very well, tell me about this part of the city."

"The Quarter." Gabriel shrugged and looked around. He knew all the shit they told tourists, but Friedrich could get that anywhere. "The first time I came down here on my own…"

He talked about the folks he'd met over the years, the stores and clubs that had come and gone. Warming to his audience, he thought about how he might write about it, and painted a picture of the streets and people for Friedrich. As seen from the eyes of a perpetually broke writer and shop owner, he acknowledged wryly.

He wondered how the folks were doing at the Napoleon House, and started to steer them that way, they stopped, looking down the street.

"Gabriel?"

He glanced at Friedrich, shrugged, and sighed. "There's places that mean something, and…" he grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. "Makes it sound like Gran doesn't. Or Rittersberg. It's not that, it's just —"

"You've changed a lot since last they saw you," Friedrich continued gently, "and you don't know if it will be the same, or if they will notice?"

Gabriel looked at him. "I guess you'd know, wouldn't you?"

Friedrich smiled just a little. "I have felt it many times myself. The only thing I have discovered, Gabriel, is that you will never know what will happen until you do it." He squeezed Gabriel's shoulder. "If there are places you would prefer not to go, we will not go there. Or you may go alone, if you choose."

"Nah, it's not that, just…ah, hell, come on." Might as well dive in, both feet.

There was a good crowd in the bar at this hour, but the lack of flash and loud music meant that it was mostly locals out for a quiet drink, and there wasn't near as much noise as at the last place. The clink of glasses and hum of conversation was familiar and manageable. Gabriel glanced around; there were a few familiar faces, mostly engrossed in their own conversations or food, and he took a deep breath as he headed for the bar.

"Just a sec!" Monty called out as he grabbed up empty glasses off the bar. He glanced at them and did a double-take, glancing at their suits. "Be right —" And a triple take. "Gabriel?" he practically yelped. He swept the rest of the mugs into a bin with a clashing of glass that made Gabriel wince, and hurried over. The look on his face hovered between pleased and astonished. "Holy fuck, it is you!" He grabbed up Gabriel's hand, still grinning. "Almost didn't recognize you in the monkey suit! How the hell are you?"

"Not too bad. You know." He shrugged. "Hey, this is Friedrich." He gestured between them. "Friedrich, Monty."

Monty nodded and shook Friedrich's hand. "Pleased to meet ya. So, what can I get you gents? Though I'm telling you now, Gabe, no credit this time; I know you can afford it now!" He winked.

"Yeah, yeah." Gabriel laughed. "Hey, I was good for it, right? Just a couple of beers tonight, thanks. Whatever's best on tap."

"Coming right up." He shook his head as he pulled their drinks. "How've you been? Living over in another country." He shook his head, in awe at the concept. "Met a lot of pretty German girls?" He waggled his eyebrows at them.

Gabriel laughed. "Yeah, a few. How about around here? Everything been going okay?"

"Oh, yeah; you know how it is." He shrugged. "Nothing ever changes here. Let's see. Well, Marcus don't come in any more; seems he can't take it like he can dish it out. Not that Sam'd ever say anything, but he never did live down losing that once." He topped off their glasses and brought them over. "Got a few new folks been coming in lately. You know they opened up an antique shop a few doors down?" He gestured out the door. "Not bad folks. We get a few of your fans in now and again, too." He shook his head. "Man, some of them are pretty nuts. Still, it's business."

"I get a cut of that?" Gabriel asked, grinning.

"Man, you wish." He looked at them a moment longer, then shook his head. "Damn. Hey, it's good to see you." Someone called from the other end of the bar, and he yelled back over his shoulder. "On my way!" He smiled back at Gabriel. "Good to see you, man. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Deal." Gabriel nodded at him, and watched as he left.

After that, there were the other locals to greet. Some nodded and waved as if he'd never left; some teased him about his monkey suit; some greeted him as the local boy done good. After half an hour of it, he made eyes at Friedrich, who neatly extracted them both with excuses and steered them to a booth at the corner of the room. Gabriel smiled gratefully, but tugged him outside instead, onto the pub's porch.

They stood there among the closed umbrellas of the tables long since abandoned by everyone else for the warmth of indoors, and looked out over the street. It was late enough not to be too crowded, though the Quarter never really emptied out, and the streetlights and windows of the clubs reflected off the pavement softly. It smelled a bit, like food and drink and cars — like humanity. He'd been worried, how different it would seem, and some parts of it did, but others… It's like I almost expected it. How much of it's stuff I always knew was there and just ignored? More worrying wasn't how his perception of things had changed, but how his viewpoint had.

They don't know anything about what I've really been doing. I'm just a shop owner who moved someplace else, who writes a few books. They don't even know about Rittersberg or my family, let alone about anything else. And Gran might not know about what I've been up to, but if I told her, she'd believe me. Tell me to be careful, and worry even more than she already does, but she wouldn't think I was crazy, or lying, or joking. All these other folks… He couldn't tell them anything without being shunned or humored at the best, committed at the worst. Being Schattenjäger set him apart as much as being a werewolf did — just knowing all that shit was real made him look at everything differently, and they didn't have that. Didn't even know enough to care.

"There are many bars and clubs here for a city of this size," Friedrich observed.

Gabriel shrugged. "Not everywhere, really. Just this part of the Quarter. Lots of business from tourists." He shook his head. "You should see Mardi Gras." He paused and winced, thinking of the noise and crowds. "Actually, let's make damn sure we ain't here for that."

Friedrich smiled. "You should experience Oktoberfest in Munich."

Gabriel laughed. "Better beer, fewer naked folks?" he guessed.

"Very likely." Friedrich clinked his glass against Gabriel's. "Definitely the former," he teased.

"Beer's beer." Gabriel shrugged, hiding a smile.

Friedrich made a disgusted noise. "If I cannot get you to learn a good wine, I will at least make certain you learn the taste of good beer!"

Gabriel let the grin slip loose. "You're welcome to try."

Friedrich smirked. "I got you out of jeans, didn't I?" He looked Gabriel over slowly. "And with very nice results." His eyes were hot, and Gabriel groaned.

"I never thought I'd meet anyone who wanted sex more often than me." He shook his head.

Friedrich gave him a sidelong look. "I'm betting you still haven't."

Gabriel grinned. "Caught me."

"I hope so," Friedrich murmured, almost too quiet to hear.

Gabriel looked away, not sure what to say. He gazed out over the street, lost in thought. Have you? Apart from the obvious 'I couldn't leave you if I wanted' part. Friedrich had asked once if he wanted to, and he kept coming back to the question, worrying at it like a loose tooth. If fate — fucking fate! — hadn't intervened, what would he have chosen? And if the choice were his now, what would he choose? Every time he came back to them, the answers seemed hazier.

As if he sensed Gabriel's unease — hell, he probably did — Friedrich finished his beer and set his glass down. "So, show me more of this city. Or shall we return to our room?"

Gabriel gulped down the last of his own glass and picked up Friedrich's empty, heading back inside. "Let's walk."

They wandered a few more blocks, Gabriel pointing out various places that held memories. They made a circle back down towards where they'd started, and almost without thinking he steered down a side street to the next block, only then fully registering right where they were. His steps slowed, caught between an intense desire and an equally intense reluctance to see his store again. He could feel Friedrich looking at him, but neither of them broke the silence as they rounded the corner and stopped.

After a moment, Gabriel drew in a deep breath and blew it out explosively, then clenched his fist and headed, determined, for the swinging sign that declared "St George's Books". He ducked through the alley — little more than a passageway — that led around back, and dug out his keys, unlocking the door and shoving it open before he could lose his nerve.

On the left was the closet they used for a bare bit of storage; a curtain ahead blocked off the view of the store itself, light filtering around the edges. The door to his room was ajar — damn thing never had closed properly — and he stretched out a hand to push it further open.

"Home sweet home," he murmured.

It looked pretty much exactly as he'd left it; he doubted Grace ever stepped foot in here, except for maybe the bathroom. Which, confirming his guess, was actually clean, while dust finely coated everything else in the place. Well, more dust than when he'd left. Probably.

There was a square spot of less dust where his typewriter had sat; the closet was empty. He'd tossed the garbage and empty cups before he'd left; no sense growing new lifeforms while he was in Germany. It didn't leave much more than a rumpled bed, a few posters on the walls, and a bunch of books still strewn about.

He walked slowly to the desk and ran a hand lightly over what there was — a few extra copies of each of his books, a dictionary he'd felt was too heavy to bother shipping overseas, a scattering of pens and highlighters. The detritus of that first case, too — translations of his granddad's poetry, rough sketches of the vevey that had led him to Africa. He shuffled them idly, then let his hand rest on one scrap of paper. The pencil was rough with the texture of the stone he'd been holding it against, and rubbed off a bit from being stuck in his pocket, but he doubted he'd ever forget the words. "Keep eyes on GK but do not harm." Malia. He turned his arm a little, his gaze catching on the scars there.

Malia gazed up at him, all traces of Tetelo gone now, her eyes peaceful. "We have won. I love you, too."

He'd never said the words out loud to her, not really, but she'd known anyway. Could hardly have missed it, with fate playing the same damn games with her heart that it had with his. He remembered again her sad little smile. "I could not stay away." He squeezed his eyes shut against the memory of that same smile as she let go of his arm. Screw fate! Push people together, tear them apart, and then do it all over again — I am not letting go, and I'm not letting someone I love give up their life for me again, you fucker! This time we get a happy ending!

He belatedly caught up with his brain, and it was like being doused in ice water. Love? Fuck. But hell, if all this "getting in touch with yourself" crap from Friedrich and the Schattenjäger ceremony had taught him anything, it was kind of pointless to lie to yourself of all people.

He sank to the chair he was leaning on, plopping into it with an "oof". Gran was right. Now what?

"Gabriel?" Friedrich padded in from the doorway, concerned. He stroked one hand over Gabriel's hair; he neither seemed nor smelled angry anymore, but there was still a hint of distress in the air. Nevertheless, Gabriel smiled up at him, and though it was shaky and a little dazed, it seemed genuine.

"Gotta stop playing with the hair, Friedrich." Gabriel sighed. But his words were rote, his attention not entirely on them.

Friedrich snorted. "Because we would not want to mess it up?"

"Hey, it takes a long time to get it looking like this!" Gabriel shook his head, his disarrayed locks flicking back then immediately trailing over his eyes again.

"So I've noticed, every morning." Friedrich smiled indulgently and tucked a few errant strands back behind Gabriel's ear. "Perhaps you could save time by sticking your head out the car window?"

Gabriel shook his head as if waking up, and gave him a look. "I'm not that much of a canine, thanks." He still eyed Friedrich a little oddly, but he was paying more attention to the conversation, and Friedrich let it pass, trusting he'd let on what it was in time. "Motorcycles are great for the wind in your hair." He smiled a little. "Always did love riding. You ride at all?"

"Horses more than motorcycles, but yes."

Gabriel gave a theatrical shudder. "You can keep the horses. I still don't think they like me much."

"You need to give them a chance." Friedrich petted Gabriel's hair again, and they stood there in silence for a moment. Gabriel looked up at him as if weighing his thoughts, then reached up a hand and took hold of his collar, tugging him down. He went willingly, meeting Gabriel's lips for a softer kiss than their usual wont, quiet and thorough and slow. Gabriel's hand flattened onto his chest, not pushing him away, just feeling his skin, his fingertips twitching in little circles on Friedrich's collarbone.

Gabriel stood when the kiss finished, wrapping his arms around Friedrich's waist and tugging him toward the bed. He slid onto the mattress, and Friedrich stood between his legs and looked down at him, enjoying the sight. Even if they had had no shared history between them, he suspected he might have fallen for this man. Gabriel was beautiful.

Gabriel grinned as if he could hear that thought, but it held more nervousness than his usual cocky expression. Friedrich smoothed his hands over Gabriel's arms, waiting without words for an explanation.

"I want —" Gabriel's voice trailed off hoarsely, and he cleared his throat. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then shook his head almost angrily, then sighed. Friedrich raised an eyebrow at him, but waited. Gabriel nodded, then met Friedrich's eyes seriously. "Fuck me, Friedrich."

Friedrich blinked. It was rare at his age, with all his faculties working, that things surprised him so completely.

Gabriel laughed a little nervously. "Damn, you look like an addled owl. I mean it. Really."

"You will forgive me being startled, Gabriel. You had said —"

"I know what I said," Gabriel interrupted, waving off the protest. "And you said not until I asked you, when I was all me and in my right mind. And I am now, and I'm asking. You can't tell me you still don't want it."

"Of course not." He nodded. "May I ask why you do?" He was afraid to contemplate why it might be, afraid to look too closely at this particular gift horse, but afraid of what might happen if he didn't.

Gabriel shook his head. "I'm just really damn tired of being afraid. Of you, of me, of everything." He set his jaw in that stubborn look Friedrich had become so well acquainted with over the months. "I want to do something 'cause I want to do it, and screw all the worrying! If you'll pardon the expression," he added, lips quirked.

I will pardon you anything, he thought, but was wise enough not to say. "An admirable sentiment." He rubbed his thumb over Gabriel's lips. "If you are certain."

Giving him a look of pure exasperation, Gabriel fell back onto the bed, pulling Friedrich with him. "Less talk, more action."

Whatever the reason for Gabriel's newfound determination, Friedrich was equally determined — if this was to be about them as men more than as wolves, he would show Gabriel what that could mean, would treat it with as much seriousness as Gabriel had. He stroked Gabriel's arms as he removed his shirt, kissed his chest as he carefully set the Schattenjäger talisman aside. Nor did Gabriel seem inclined to take this any faster; they kissed and touched slowly, reverently as they finished undressing. They broke for a moment as Gabriel fished in the small nightstand for a bottle of lubricant; he handed it to Friedrich, and Friedrich could feel his heart pounding and smell his anxiety as well as his arousal.

He took the bottle and set it aside, placing gentle kisses along Gabriel's neck as he laid him back down. They lay there for long minutes, touching and kissing, building tension slowly. Friedrich nuzzled the line of hair down Gabriel's stomach and ran his tongue over his cock in one long stripe, smiling at the catch of Gabriel's breath. He moved lower, pulling Gabriel's balls into his mouth, sucking gently. Gabriel's hands twisted in the sheets, incoherent noises escaping him.

Gabriel gasped as Friedrich let him go, and Friedrich smiled at the dazed look he got as he stroked Gabriel's knuckles, coaxing them to loosen so he could turn over. He paid as much tender attention to Gabriel's back as he had his front, feeling the muscles bunch and twist under his skin, the fine hairs along his arms and legs that were so different from his lupine pelt. He carefully tugged Gabriel's cock from under him, caressing it as it pressed into the mattress, and nipped one cheek of his ass, earning himself a breathless chuckle and a squirm.

Picking up the bottle, Friedrich coated his fingers in the slippery cool lubricant, feeling its consistency as he warmed it. He kissed the small of Gabriel's back as he ran one finger over his opening. Gabriel drew in a breath and squirmed again, and Friedrich slipped the tip of his finger in slowly, feeling how far he could go without resistance.

He continued like that, slowly and carefully opening Gabriel to his touch, feeling when it was too much, when the noises coming from him changed from pleasure to discomfort. Gabriel's cock softened a little, then firmed again. By the time Friedrich had several fingers in him, Gabriel was pushing back onto them, the tip of his cock wet.

Friedrich used his free hand to coat himself with the slick liquid, then pulled his fingers from Gabriel slowly, murmuring an answer to Gabriel's whimper. He held him wide and still as he pushed in slowly, rocking to ease the passage. Gabriel groaned and tensed, and Friedrich held still, gentling him until he could move further. He set his teeth in a grimace against his own need, panting as he pushed in as far as he could go. He lay along Gabriel's back, one hand under him stroking his cock as his weight pushed him into the bed.

He could feel Gabriel's own breath, as ragged as his own, and nuzzled his neck, filling his nose with the scent of Gabriel's hair.

"Friedrich —" Gabriel's voice was hoarse and shaky.

"Here." He sucked at the patch of skin behind Gabriel's ear, feeling his entire body quiver. Gabriel's body spasmed around him and Gabriel gasped, his cock jumping in Friedrich's hand.

"Fri—" he made a broken little noise. "Move, please."

He moved, pulling out slowly, just a little, then pushing back in. He stayed pressed along Gabriel's body, blanketing him, holding him close. Gabriel's legs tensed in time with his slow thrusts, pushing back as best he could. Friedrich shifted slightly with each thrust until he found the angle that made Gabriel choke off a cry and clench around him.

Gabriel could hear, with one corner of his brain, the noises he was making. Another tiny corner was whispering, My god, am I really doing this? But increasingly the rest of it was too occupied with yes, please, more! to pay any attention. Every time Friedrich pushed into him, he felt his thoughts scatter again, and he clung to the feeling of Friedrich's chest against his back and the memory of the care he'd taken getting them here. That alone told him that his feelings weren't his alone; in a sudden blinding moment of clarity, he realized how much care Friedrich had taken of him since they'd met, how much he'd done and risked for Gabriel. He fumbled for Friedrich's free hand, winding their fingers together, and turned his head to nuzzle the side of Friedrich's face as best he could.

Taking the red-eye from Boston had at least kept Grace from prolonged tearful good-byes, but getting in at three in the morning, too keyed up to sleep, wasn't exactly fun, either. She checked her watch as the cab turned onto Bourbon Street and calculated the time it would take to go home, get unpacked, get dressed, and get back here. Still time for a nap, she decided, if not a real night's sleep. She debated just sleeping in her car or the overstuffed chair in the back of the shop instead of heading home. But that'd mean using Gabriel's shower or going without. Don't think I'm quite that desperate yet, she thought wryly.

She paid the cabbie and climbed out, hoisting her bag for the walk to her car, then sighed. To one side of the shop's mat sat a somewhat wilted cardboard box. Damn it, Bruno, I thought you said you'd take these in! Typical man, completely unreliable. She thinned her lips and dug into her purse for the shop's keys. I swear some days it's enough to make me swear off men completely! She pushed the door open and hoisted the box, grimacing at the weight. At least when Gabriel was around, though, he could do the heavy lifting. Seemed to revel in it, showing off his biceps at every stage. She slid the box onto the counter and turned to go, then turned back, frowning. Was that a noise?

All the spookiness lately, you're hearing things, Grace. What's it going to be, a ghost? Not like this place is worth robbing. She knew the lack of real wealth wasn't much deterrent toward burglars, though, and stepped quietly behind the counter. She'd rolled her eyes when Gabriel had started stashing a baseball bat back there, but the problem with Aikido was that it wasn't terribly intimidating just standing there, and she had to admit the bat's presence had defused a few situations. She pulled it from its resting place and stood there, silent, just listening.

She'd started feeling stupid — just imagining things after all — when she heard something again. Rustling, some sort of movement. Voices? Hard to tell.

She moved toward the back slowly, inching her way along, carefully examining every nook and cranny for hidden interlopers. She peeked through the curtain to the back before she opened it, then froze. Definitely movement, coming from Gabriel's apartment; then it was broken by a gasp. Gabriel? Could he be back? Her heart leapt, but her mouth went dry — if it was him, what else might be going on? She cursed the fact she hadn't checked the mail on her way back here; if Gerde had written, or even Gabriel…

Uncertain what to expect, she eased her way forward, smiling in gratefulness at the stupid door that never closed. If she stood just right, and poked it open just a little further…

It wasn't Gabriel; that was her first thought. The dark hair left no doubt. Other details were processed one at a time, almost in slow motion — long hair, but the body was definitely male. Bodies. Two men. Another gasp, and movement, and there was Gabriel, and… Oh, god. She raised the bat, her heart dropping and her eyes going wide. If this was… her eyes caught movement and took in the joined hands on the pillow, Gabriel clutching like a lifeline to the other man.

Heart beating like she'd run a marathon, she stumbled back through the curtain to the front of the shop and ran out the door, scrubbing her eyes as if she could wipe out the memory of that sight. She forced herself to slow down, lock the door, and grab her suitcase before she fled to the safety of her car. She sat in the driver's seat, staring ahead, far too shaken to drive, a million questions and frantic denials in her head.

She was still there when the sun came up, and blinked in the light, shivering, then laughed, both bitter and with a little genuine humor — she was still clutching the bat.

Friedrich stretched and yawned, taking a moment to reacquaint himself with the sights and smells of where he was. Gabriel's home. He smiled and turned to look at Gabriel where he lay beside him, still asleep. Friedrich traced the long line of his back with his fingers, steadily and lightly enough not to wake him or tickle. Gabriel, it seemed, was always in motion, except when he slept. Not that he couldn't be still; he seemed to have this perception of himself as lazy, and to foster it in others. But even when he sat or lay doing nothing, there was always a foot tapping out some melody, or emotions chasing each other over his face, or his fingers drumming absently; he was rarely truly still. Friedrich had learned to read the meaning behind a good number of these tics, and was still puzzling out some others.

May I have the chance to do so. He stroked the hair away from Gabriel's face, wishing his motives and thoughts were as easy to read as his body. Gabriel's complexity was one of the things that he loved about him, and yet he could not help hating it at times. What was last night about, Gabriel? Is this a commitment to me, to this life? Or was it a gift in parting, now you recall that you have a home that does not include me?

He leaned down to kiss him softly, then slid from the bed and headed for the small bathroom. He shook his head to think that Gabriel had lived here for so many years, in this tiny, dingy space. Personally, he thought Rittersberg fit him better; but he remembered that in Rittersberg when Gabriel had mentioned home, he meant this place.

Friedrich sighed and hunted for towels, then showered quickly. Gabriel was still asleep, and he caressed his face again, then dressed and stepped outside; he was certain there must be a place to get coffee nearby.

Gabriel was still asleep when he returned, and Friedrich set Gabriel's coffee on the little stand by his head, certain the smell would wake him. He sipped his own slowly as he returned to the front of the shop, looking it over by daylight. This, he decided, was much more Gabriel than the room in the back; there were books on many subjects here, almost more than would fit on the shelves. Not as expensive nor as esoteric a selection as the Schattenjäger library, but he could easily see Gabriel working his way through every book here, collecting and cherishing them.

He recalled Gabriel once saying that he had only ever sold enough to get by; he had wondered at the time, and now he had no doubt — it was clearly more due to inclination than poor luck.

As if the thought had conjured him — though more likely it was the coffee — Gabriel padded into the room behind him. He smiled, but didn't interrupt his perusal of the shelves.

"See anything you like?" Gabriel sank down onto the stool behind the counter, watching him.

"Only one thing." He turned his smile on Gabriel, who smiled, but seemed a little preoccupied. "Though you do have quite a collection here."

"Thanks. And for the coffee," Gabriel said absently.

Friedrich nodded at him. "You are quite welcome."

Gabriel yawned. "There any extra clean towels?"

Friedrich cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why ask me?"

"You were in there last," Gabriel pointed out.

He shrugged. "I believe so."

Gabriel grunted and gulped down the rest of his coffee, then headed back to take a shower. Friedrich watched him go and debated following, then sighed and left him to it. If he will come to me, then he will come. If this is good-bye, let me face it with dignity.

Gabriel stood, letting the water stream over him, and scrubbed his face with his hands. The coffee had woken him a little, but his mind was still sluggish, and he had too much to think about. His body was sore, but even though the memory still made him blush a little, it wasn't a bad one. Actually, it was pretty fucking great. He shoved aside the remaining unease as best he could. Made the decision; I'm not sorry. Shut up, brain.

Now if he could only figure out what it all meant. Where did they go from here? He'd given up being afraid, given up his preconceived notions of…hell, of a lot of things. Now what?

You're sleeping with a guy. You're in love again. So…okay. Not like anyone but his gran really cared, and she didn't seem to mind. And the folks in Rittersberg — Hell, I'm sure that old schloss has seen worse; I remember my history. They only seemed to worry about him as the Schattenjäger, not about his sex life, thank god.

And you're a werewolf now. Yeah. There was always that. He was feeling a hell of a lot more like himself lately, though. Okay, so me with a much better sense of smell. He'd have to watch his temper, but luckily he'd never really had much of one. And he had the whole Schattenjäger ceremony to remind him not to be a dick (too much). It might not be something he'd have chosen on his own, but he had it now, these were his cards, and you played what you got, right? A cure…I dunno, it might be nice. But not if it meant leaving Friedrich. I'm not leaving him alone; I sure as hell ain't that cruel.

Friedrich was right — well, partially right — on that, at least. Gabriel still firmly believed there were such things as good and evil; he'd seen far too much shit not to. But the wolf, this thing in him, part of him, wasn't either; it just was. A bit more potential for either than I had before, maybe? But not leaning either way.

Which brought him to Friedrich. He'd felt like he was leaning on him so much; he was grateful to have settled down a bit, not least because he was sick and tired of being coddled or feeling like an explosion waiting to happen. Now he could think more clearly, stand on his own, and it felt damn good. He paused, realizing — I could leave him now if I wanted to. I could stand on my own. He thought about it, forced himself to seriously consider the idea, and almost laughed from joy and relief. Fuck that. I don't want to. You hear that, Fate? Screw you and all your scheming, I don't give a shit, I'm ignoring you. He grinned, thinking of himself as a teenager, taunting Mosely — Lalala, can't hear you!

I'm making my own fucking choice, and I'm staying.

Gabriel toweled his hair dry and slung the wet towels over the sink. He hummed a little as he dressed, tugging his shirt into place as he went back out to join Friedrich. He seemed to have found a book, and Gabriel cocked his head to look at the spine. "Good choice. So, we got any plans for today?"

Friedrich shrugged. "Not that I'm aware of. What would you like to do?"

Gabriel thought about it, and wandered to the front window to check the sky. "We could head out to the park and just do absolutely nothing." He grinned. "One of my favorite things."

Friedrich smiled and shook his head. "If you like. We could perhaps bring a picnic with us."

"Maybe. What did you have in mind?"

Friedrich opened his mouth to answer, but they were interrupted by the tinkling of bells on the front door as it opened. Even as he turned, Gabriel's brain was working, reminding him they hadn't unlocked that door, the shop was closed currently, and the only other person with a key was —

"Grace."

"Gabriel." Her eyes flew between him and Friedrich, her jaw tightening. "We need to talk." She glanced quickly over at Friedrich again, almost flinching. "Alone!"

Gabriel looked over at Friedrich, who was frowning faintly. He stood as still as if hunting, and Gabriel could see his nostrils flare as he took in the scents of the scene. He stopped to do the same himself, wondering if it would ever come to be as instinctive for him. He could smell his own coffee and soap, Friedrich's familiar scent overlaid with worry, the soothing paper and ink of the books; and Grace. He looked at her again, more sharply, noticing the little things he'd missed the first time. Her eyes were red and her hair looked finger-combed; she held herself stiffly, her fists clenched. She looked, he would have said, angry. Really pissed off. An uncomfortable thought settled in his brain — How wrong have I always been about her? There was anger in her scent, but only a little. A little sadness, too. And over it all, nearly smothering everything else out, fear. She was terrified — of him, for him, of Friedrich?

Probably all three, he acknowledged reluctantly. But she was here, despite it all, and he couldn't help but admire her courage. Girl never has known when to quit. Which had its good and bad points, really. With a sigh, he took a tight rein on his temper; he suspected he'd need it. "Could you go on in the back, Friedrich?" He nodded towards the bedroom.

Friedrich turned his worried gaze on him. "Are you certain, Gabriel?"

"Yeah, we'll be okay."

Friedrich searched his face closely for a moment longer, then nodded. He reached up to brush the hair back gently from Gabriel's face. "I will be only a shout away," he murmured, too low for Grace to hear.

"Yeah," Gabriel replied, equally soft. "I know."

He watched Friedrich leave. The back room probably wasn't far enough to keep him from hearing things, but maybe it'd at least calm Grace down a little. The girl knew how to push his buttons, and had a real tendency to sometimes. He steeled himself and took a deep breath, then turned to her.

And waited.

She watched him, a million thoughts flitting over her face, until he sighed. "Spit it out, Gracie." The buttons, of course, went both ways.

Her eyes flashed and she took a step toward him. "What the hell are you thinking, Gabriel? Or haven't you bothered with that? I know it'd be a first, but I keep on hoping."

He smirked at her, refusing to rise to the bait. "You know I never think before my second cup of coffee, darlin'." He patted the machine on the end of the counter and rooted through the drawers behind the counter till he found a bag of grounds.

"You never think, ever!" She faced him across the counter, her hands braced on its surface. "Tell me that's not who I think it is!" She pointed towards the back of the shop.

He kept making the coffee, focussing on the smell and the motions to keep himself calm. "I can't speak to who you think it is. His name's Friedrich." He realized belatedly that the only water was back in his room, and gave up.

"Friedrich," she repeatedly flatly. "As in Friedrich von Glower, the werewolf who got you into all this?"

"'Glover', not 'glower'," he corrected. "I thought you knew a bit of German, Gracie."

"You're picking on my German while you're hanging out with a killer?" Her voice raised in volume and pitch, and he winced.

"He's not a killer, not anymore."

"Since when, Gabriel?" She shook her head emphatically. "He's been alive a couple hundred years at least, and he's killed how many people? That's why you were hunting him in the first place! That's your job, remember?"

"That wasn't him, that was von Zell." He matched her stubborn stance. "Friedrich hasn't killed anyone in years, and he's not about to start now — hell, he's kept me from killing folks when I was out of my mind! Just ask Gerde!"

"You wouldn't be out of your mind if not for him! Or have you forgotten about that? A few months ago, you were ready to kill him to be human again; now you're defending him? You —"

"I was delirious in pain when we made those plans, damn it! And I didn't even know what the hell was going on, because you," he jabbed a finger at her chest, "never gave me his letter! Or the talisman! You think he'd give that back if he was evil? Or didn't you think that time?"

"I thought you'd want to go back to being as human as you ever are." She scowled. "And you think you weren't in your right mind then? At least you weren't letting a murderer fuck you!"

Gabriel could feel the blood draining from his face. "What? How did you—"

"I came back last night, Gabriel." She looked nearly as uncomfortable as he felt. "I saw you."

"Whatever we're doing, it's none of your business!" He flushed, then narrowed his eyes at her. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You read Friedrich's letter, you knew how he felt, that's why you kept it from me."

A quick flash of panic he might have missed months ago. "I was trying to protect you, Gabriel. To help you make the right decision, which would be to kill him while you can, and go back to being human!"

"Whatever I do, it's my choice, Grace! It's my life!" He shook off the feeling of déj\'e0 vu and set his jaw. "You had no right to make those decisions for me, or to try and get me to do anything when I couldn't even think straight."

She raised her chin and met his gaze squarely. "Silly me. I thought you might care about becoming a monster and we ought to work as fast as possible to keep that from happening. But you're happy with it, aren't you? Jesus Christ, Gabriel, I knew you were selfish; I never thought you were actually…" She trailed off and fumbled for a word, then shook her head. "Inhuman."

It stung more than he would have thought. She must have seen something in his face, because a flash of sympathy crossed hers, and she leaned in. "You've got to think about this, Gabriel. Do you even know how many people he's killed over the years, or the other things he's done? He's a werewolf; that's not going to go away just because you like him!"

"You think I don't know that?" He shook his head angrily. "Yeah, he's done some rotten shit. So have I. And before you say there's no comparison," he held up a hand to stop her interrupting, "You think. Think about what barons were expected to be like a couple hundred years ago. Think about the fact the talisman doesn't hurt him. Whatever else he is, he isn't evil; what does that make me if I kill him?"

"Human, Gabriel." She met his eyes with a searing gaze. "The only way you will be, ever again. Think about that."

This time, it was Grace who stalked out the door.

Friedrich toyed with the book in his hands, unable to truly concentrate on it with the discussion going on out front. He was deliberately ignoring it as much as he could, giving them privacy, but bits and pieces floated back to him anyway, more the tone of voice than the words. Enough to know that Gabriel wasn't about to snap, nor was the girl about to kill him — though he himself seemed to be still fair game.

He flipped a few more pages, wondering if she would be able to turn Gabriel against him. Again, a traitorous part of his brain whispered to him. He remembered how furious Gabriel had been when they met at the opera house, and was unpleasantly aware that he had only come with Friedrich because he saw no other choice.

He did choose, though, he reminded himself. And many times since then. But how much of it was attachment to Friedrich, acceptance of the wolf, and how much was fear and anger and resignation in the face of the inevitable? Tired of being afraid, Gabriel had confessed. With a sinking feeling, Friedrich realized that could mean that he had chosen not to let his fear stop him from doing things, or it could mean he had decided to do away with the things that had been causing that fear. Last night suggested the former, but fear was an unpredictable emotion; a cornered animal was always the most dangerous kind.

He tossed the book onto the bed in disgust and strode into the bathroom, looking at his reflection over the sink. So. You are a gambling man. Which way is he poised to jump, and what will you do about it?

If the jump were towards him, there was no question. Catch him, keep him.

And if it were away from him? Towards his human existence and the petty ideas of good and evil he clung to? He rubbed his face and sighed, feeling every lonely year that had led him here. Let him go. He knew what that would mean. Some legends suggested that werewolf souls lived on, trapped in the world after death, but he had never felt his father's presence, and god knew the man had nobody else to haunt. He thought it likely that death would be the true end.

One way or another, he thought, his loneliness would be over.

The front door slammed, and Friedrich waited. If he listened carefully, he could hear Gabriel's breath, but Gabriel made no move to return to the back room. After several long minutes, Friedrich gave in and returned to the front of the shop. Gabriel was half-sitting on a tall stool behind the sales counter, watching the door, and his face and scent were troubled.

"Gabriel?" He stepped close and put one hand on Gabriel's back, as much to reassure himself as to get his attention.

Gabriel shook himself and turned a patently false smile on him. "Well, you've met Grace now. Sorry not to properly introduce you or anything, but under the circumstances?"

"Quite understandable." He stroked Gabriel's spine soothingly. After a moment, though, Gabriel jumped up and stepped away from him, hands pushing at his hair in a nervous gesture.

"Look, Friedrich." He sighed. "I need to get out. On my own. I'll take a raincheck on the park, okay?" He was sidling toward the back room as he spoke; he didn't exactly avoid Friedrich's eyes, but he didn't meet them for long, either, his gaze shifting all around the room. "I'll, um. I'll meet you back at the hotel tonight, okay?"

Friedrich watched him, doing his best to keep his own worry and fear out of sight. "Are you all right, Gabriel?" he asked softly.

"I'll be fine." Gabriel tried for a smile as he grabbed up his dinner jacket. "I just need some time to think, okay? Gotta work some things out. I'll see you tonight." He turned around one last time at the back door. "Hey, make sure to lock up when you leave, okay?"

Friedrich nodded as the door swung shut, speaking to its blank metal expanse. "I will see you tonight."

Having no other plans, Friedrich tidied the room and checked both doors on his way out. He wandered through the French Quarter, taking in the sights and smells. But the architecture that had so fascinated him earlier could no longer hold his attention, and after an hour or two he sighed in disgust and made his way back to their rental car.

At the hotel, he changed to more casual clothes and headed out again, checking his map. Suddenly, time away from humanity was sounding very good.

"Tonight," Gabriel had said, and no more than that, so as the sun sank toward the horizon, Friedrich returned to car, clothes, and human form. He stretched and breathed deeply, trying to hold on to the peace and certainty he'd found. Whatever course Gabriel had decided upon, he suspected he would find out shortly.

He returned to the hotel, but Gabriel was not yet there, so he occupied himself in waiting. He stirred when he heard the key in the lock.

"Hey." Gabriel's smile seemed genuine, but he still smelled nervous, almost frightened. "Sorry I'm kind of late."

"We had not set a time," Friedrich allowed. He itched to hold out his arms, pull Gabriel close, but he restrained himself. "Have you had enough time to think?"

"Yeah, I think so." Gabriel barked in laughter. "'Course, if I'm not even sure about that… Ah, never mind." He strode up decisively and dove to kiss Friedrich, hands on his shoulders. It was intense but brief, and Gabriel drew back with a chuckle. "You smell like the bayou."

"You smell like grass and cigarette smoke. And a little of incense."

"Went to the park after all." Gabriel shrugged and tugged off his dress shirt, now more than a little worse for the wear. "And the church after." He grimaced. "Sorry about ditching you. I just don't always think real well with you near, you know?" He waggled his eyebrows as he shimmied out of his slacks and grabbed up a pair of jeans. "Too many better things to do."

Friedrich snorted. The excuse rang partly true, but he knew quite well Gabriel was capable of shutting everything out when necessary, him included. He let it pass. "Will you want supper now?"

"Nah, not really." Gabriel shifted, the anxiety in his scent spiking. "A drink'd be great, though. I know just the place." He tugged a T-shirt into place and stepped back toward the door, cocking his head.

Friedrich nodded and stood. "Whatever you like."

Gabriel gave him an odd look and a lopsided smile. "Sounds suspiciously like 'as you wish'." Friedrich frowned, confused, and Gabriel shook his head. "Never mind." His scent calmed a little, though, so whatever it was, Friedrich imagined, it couldn't be bad.

He expected to head back to the Quarter, but instead Gabriel directed him to an area that, from the look of it, was nothing that tourists were normally shown. The streets were a bit dingier than he'd seen so far, the signs were no-nonsense placards and neon, and once they found a place to park and made it into the bar, the clientele was equally rough and worn around the edges.

His slacks and jacket were as out of place here as last night's formalwear had been in the Napoleon House; Gabriel's jeans might have let him fit in better, but the man himself was making no effort to, settling into a kind of lazy arrogance that Friedrich hadn't seen since Gabriel had arrived at the Hunt Club. He gave Gabriel a questioning glance, but Gabriel just grinned back, slung an arm around his shoulders, and steered him to the bar.

The bartender greeted them warily, his eyes flicking over them and the other patrons. The place smelled of cheap beer and hostility. "Gabriel," Friedrich began quietly, "why —"

"Trust me." Gabriel grinned. "Just a couple of beers," he told the bartender. "Whatever's on tap."

"Michelob," the man answered as he moved to pull the glasses.

"Perfect." Gabriel turned a dazzling smile on the man, almost flirting with him, and the bartender turned pale and hurried to finish their drinks barely looking at them.

Gabriel laughed and pulled Friedrich closer, resting his head on his shoulder. Friedrich frowned at him even as his arm went automatically around Gabriel's waist. "Gabriel?"

Gabriel snickered. "Just wait for it." The bartender all but shoved their drinks at them, and Gabriel turned that same overbroad smile on him again. "Thanks, darlin'."

The scent of danger in the air was getting stronger, almost stifling. Whatever reason Gabriel had brought them here, Friedrich was increasingly suspicious it had much to do with the beer. Surely Gabriel could not miss the charged atmosphere. "Gabriel," he growled in warning, "Are you quite sure this is where you want to be?"

Gabriel took a long pull of his beer, then set the glass down with a thunk; his eyes sparked amusement and something else in their depths. "Definitely." He slid his hand, cool from the glass, into Friedrich's hair, and pulled him forward for a kiss.

There was an angry shout from behind them, and Gabriel staggered a little as he was pushed. Three men stood there, belligerent and a little drunk. Gabriel smiled at them lazily, and Friedrich sized them up — not particularly dangerous for the pair of them, but not exactly harmless, either.

The one who was apparently the leader poked Gabriel in the chest. "You fags want a drink, take it somewhere else. This ain't one of your perverted clubs."

Friedrich put on his best "don't cross me" demeanor, but Gabriel spoke up first. "You got a problem, friend?"

"We're not your friends." The man scowled and pushed him again. "You people're disgusting. We don't stand for that kind of thing in here."

Gabriel pulled himself up straighter and smirked. "Why? Afraid you might see something you like?" He pursed his lips at the man.

"Fag!" The man dove for Gabriel, pulling back his fist, and Friedrich growled, moving to intercept him, as Gabriel ducked, laughing.

"Hey!" The bartender scrambled back over to them, looking even more nervous. "Look, you guys better go, and don't come back." He turned to their attackers, holding up placating hands. "Don't start anything in here, okay, guys? It's my ass on the line."

Gabriel grinned at Friedrich. "You heard the man; we'd better go." He gave the furious man a flirty look. "Be seeing you."

Friedrich pulled him out before he could get them into any more trouble. "Gabriel, what are you doing?" He pulled them a little further down the street, into the mouth of an alleyway, and pressed Gabriel against a concrete wall, scrutinizing him. He didn't seem angry or out of control; his scent was less nervous now than it had been in the hotel room, and he smiled calmly.

"I'm fine." He stroked Friedrich's face. "Haven't lost control or anything. Or my mind. Well, no more than usual." That grin was pure Gabriel. "Just been thinking."

Friedrich frowned. "What is this about, Gabriel?"

Gabriel's eyes flicked to the side, and he nodded over Friedrich's shoulder. "That."

Friedrich turned to look, and sighed. It had been too much to hope that the men would leave them alone after Gabriel's behavior. He slanted a narrow-eyed gaze at Gabriel, keeping most of his attention on the men. "You were trying to provoke a fight."

"Yep," Gabriel answered cheerfully.

"Well, if it isn't the fags." The leader scowled and the man behind him cracked his knuckles.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Well, if it isn't the mouth-breathing morons. Man, you need some new vocabulary."

The men lunged for them, and for a few minutes Friedrich put aside the question of why Gabriel was doing this. At three against two, the others likely thought the odds were on their side, but with the strength and agility of wolves, the odds were more than even.

The fight was short and vicious; Friedrich dislocated one man's shoulder, and Gabriel helped to slam another into the wall, leaving him dazed and possibly concussed. The leader narrowed his eyes and came at them more slowly, but Friedrich could smell the desperation and bravado that said he knew the outcome, though he would not give in.

Gabriel laid him out with a punch to the face that left his nose broken and bloody, then stood over him and shook his head. "Next time you decide to go gay-bashing, maybe you won't. Two birds with one stone." He hauled the man up to sit against the wall and patted his cheek, swiping at his face with one hand. "Sweet dreams."

He rejoined Friedrich, and the manic attitude he'd had all evening seemed gone; he smiled calmly. "Come on, let's head out before the cops get here."

He headed down the street toward their car, and Friedrich followed automatically, but stopped him half a block down with a hand on his shoulder. "Gabriel."

"Hm?" Gabriel had been eyeing his hands; now he looked up at Friedrich and smiled again. "Yeah?"

Friedrich scowled at him. "You provoked that fight intentionally. You brought us here just for that," he accused. "Why?"

Gabriel sighed, staring at his hands again. "You heard what Grace said?"

"Some of it." He rested his hand on Gabriel lightly, hoping he didn't know where this was leading.

Gabriel took a deep breath and blew it out, glancing up at him. "She helped plan the thing at the opera, you know that. And she knows the rules; knows there's only one way to get me human again." He shook his head. "I don't know if you're right, if she really — but she thinks she knows what's best. And she's smart, and angry, and stubborn. One thing about Gracie — she never gives up if there's even a chance of something."

Gabriel snorted. "Then there's you. I may be a gold-plated asshole sometimes, but you think I don't get what you're doing for me or why?"

Friedrich shook his head, smiling a little. "I have told you why."

"Yeah." Gabriel met his eyes. "And you ask me those questions, and I never have an answer, and I see what you end up thinking."

He ran his fingers lightly down Gabriel's face and tucked his hair behind his ear. "I will abide by any choice you make, Gabriel."

"Yeah? Good." Gabriel held up his fist. "Because I've made my choice." He turned it, showing his knuckles to Friedrich; a bright smear of blood creased them.

"Gabriel, are you —" Friedrich reached for his hand.

"His blood, not mine," Gabriel interrupted. "Human blood." He yanked his hand back and swiped his tongue over it, cleaning his fingers.

Friedrich froze, watching him. For once, he could think of nothing to say. His hand tightened on Gabriel's arm, and he met his eyes. Friedrich searched piercingly, but he could see no traces of the deadly madness there. They were calm, certain, determined. Gabriel reached out with his free hand and pulled Friedrich down for another kiss, and Friedrich could taste the copper tang of blood on his tongue; it was no dream.

"The fight was for this?" he asked, pulling back just enough for speech.

Gabriel shrugged, resting his forehead against Friedrich's. "Only way I could think of to make someone bleed without biting them. Didn't think a bag from the Red Cross would count."

"And you think this will?"

Gabriel snorted. "What, you want to test it? Tasting human blood, the book says." He kissed Friedrich again, a soft press of lips. "I've done that. I've made my choice. There's no going back. And you can stop worrying, and Grace can stop plotting. I'm not going anywhere. Hope you don't mind." He straightened and took a deep breath. "I don't say this too often, so you'd better listen — I love you."

Friedrich's own breath left him in a whoosh of shock and relief. He framed Gabriel's face with his hands, reading the truth of it there. He shook his head, wondering. "I was so afraid of losing you, Gabriel. After so long in finding you…" He ran his thumb over Gabriel's full lips. "I love you, Gabriel. You had better not go anywhere, because I have no intention of letting you go now."

He leaned in, and Gabriel's arms went around him, and their tongues met in a kiss sweet and hard and fierce.

It tasted like a promise.