Pissed Off and Fancy Free

Bosco freely admitted that he was grumpy. Not that he had anyone to admit it to - no one was talking to him anymore. Not even Yokas, who'd stopped talking to him over two hours ago despite the fact they were stuck in a car together. Bosco knew from experience that she could avoid talking to him for three shifts solid, but mostly that was from..well, before. Before she knew to excuse his grumpiness because it was that time of the month.

Three hours ago she'd actually pointed out that the full moon had been last week. Two and a half hours ago she'd grabbed a call over the radio that had let Bosco run after, jump on, and beat on a bad guy.

When he'd still been grumpy, after, she'd just given him a look that could kill and stopped talking to him.

She wasn't even asking him if he wanted to swing by and see if Kim and Bobby were up for lunch - which usually meant he'd either stop being so damned grumpy or he'd at least be inflicting it on someone else for twenty minutes. But if she were passing up the chance to tease the hell out of him for the rest of the shift for the way he got around Bobby, then Bosco knew she was seriously annoyed with him.

OK, so maybe he shouldn't have insulted her friend Debbie that way but after meeting her for exactly five seconds Bosco had wanted to soak her in hot water to rinse her off, then bite her for making him go to the effort. Not even humans needed that much perfume, but Bosco was willing to admit - to himself - that maybe he'd over-reacted by saying something to that effect, to her face.

Bosco had tried to apologise ten minutes ago, but when he'd opened his mouth, Yokas had put her hand on the butt of her pistol.

Bosco contented himself to sitting in the car and wishing someone would commit a crime so he could beat the crap out of them. Five minutes passed and he glanced at his watch. Five minutes later than the last time he'd looked. Fifteen minutes closer to final boarding and fucking hell, but he didn't want--

Didn't matter what he wanted, what he didn't want, and the damn plane was leaving on time and they'd already be on the damn plane by now anyway, and Bosco didn't know exactly how long this was going to make him pissed off but he was pretty sure Yokas would shoot him for real before the week was over.

He tensed as the radio sputtered to life, listening for only a few seconds before hearing that it wasn't even for them. Private call for 49-David, heading back to the house and Bosco figured it was going to be lecture and scream time for Johnson, the rookie who had fucked up yet again that afternoon.

Bosco liked Johnson, because the Captain hadn't yelled at him in nearly a month. Johnson had been screwing up fairly regularly, and Bosco was enjoying the entertainment. He didn't think about the fact that for the entire last two weeks Bosco hadn't had much energy, or inclination, to get in anybody's face, so not even the Lieutenant had had a reason to chew him out.

That was going to change today, because if no one robbed a store or mugged an old lady or dropped gum on the sidewalk, Bosco was going to grab somebody at random and haul them in just for something to do.

~~~

Yokas didn't bother telling him to sit still. Didn't say a damn word for the rest of the shift. Threw the equipment at him to check in, stormed off to do the paperwork, and didn't even look back when he managed an apology. Bosco glanced at his watch again, four hours ago and still five minutes before Bobby would be clocking out, if he were even back at the fire station. Bosco decided to go take a sniff to find out.

Out the back door and the fire station was just across the parking lot. Bosco stopped, looked around and didn't bother yet inhaling deeply. The asphalt smelled like crap, the air smelled worse, and he could see for himself that one of the buses was in residence. He'd already changed his clothes, Bosco could just go over there and park himself in the common room and wait, but technically he hadn't clocked out himself and as he breathed in he realised he couldn't smell Bobby at all.

In human form he usually couldn't tell, not from this distance, not with this absolute cocktail of human and other aromas. But Bobby, he knew - better than he knew the scent of Moe's sausage and onion pizza from a city block down. Better than he knew his own relatives, mixed into a crowd of wolves.

Better than he knew the scent of his own bed, because that smelled like Bobby now anyway, and all Bosco really wanted was one sniff of him and maybe, just maybe, for the first time all day he'd relax. He waited a few minutes, watching for the other bus, but after awhile it became clear they weren't heading in. He snuck over to the fire station and poked his head in; Jimmy was on his way out and grinned as he stopped.

"They're on a run," he said, shrugging on his coat and stinking of a garbage can fire. "Should be back in thirty, if you want to wait."

Bosco just shook his head. He'd rather wait at a bar, head in a mug of beer and not thinking about...anything.

Certainly not about how, for the first time in a year, he didn't want to go home.

It wasn't his fault, wasn't like he'd set out to do anything, wasn't like anyone had expected him to. But some old friend of Bobby's had a friend coming to town, and hosting them at dinner had led to three very important revelations. One and two were all about humans and werewolves and fucking and family. The third was that they all liked the same brand of beer.

It had all led to cancelled hotel rooms and two full weeks of a home more crowded than Bosco could even fucking remember and now, as of 5:15, it was over and he hated it. Hated it and he hadn't said anything and he figured Bobby would figure it out easily enough but it didn't fucking matter because they were on their way home and Bosco was left here with the best thing that had ever happened to him -- best thing until two weeks ago when his pack had grown by two and now he felt like it was being ripped in half when, really, he hadn't any excuse for feeling this way at all.

Had no excuse for wanting more than he could have, shouldn't have even let himself feel this way to begin with. He'd never been good at controlling how he felt - hence Yokas teasing him every time they got near Bobby, because Bosco couldn't control how he reacted to the one person he loved more than anything in the world, and the one person he wanted to have sex with pretty much all the time, and the one person who could make him feel good just by being close enough to smell.

Bosco realised that he should just go home, bury himself in the blankets of the bed, inhale Bobby's scent until he came home and Bosco could bury his nose in Bobby's neck and beg him to fuck him until he couldn't feel anything at all.

~~~

He got as far as stepping off the elevator when he smelled sausage and onion pizza, open bottles of beer, and three people that he really shouldn't be smelling. Bosco frowned at the door to his apartment as he walked closer -- scent getting stronger and it wasn't just residual, left over from that afternoon when they'd all said good-bye.

He got to the door and Bobby was opening it, grinning at him and radiating joy and surprise and love and Bosco had to pause in his what the hell to kiss him.

One arm wrapped around Bobby, Bosco stepped further into the apartment and blinked. Sniffed, just to be sure.

Gil shrugged and smiled. "Nick whined."

Nick just grinned and said, "And someone had better buy me about a thousand sweaters, because if I'm living in New York I'm going to freeze my tail off."

Bosco looked at Bobby, who just smiled back. Crafty and evil and he'd known about this, maybe not for all day but long enough to get into a hell of a lot of trouble when Yokas found out she could have been spared three minutes of Bosco being an asshole.

Maybe he'd call in sick tomorrow, as a present for her. And spend the day in bed.

Maybe he'd call in for the week.

the end