bad girls do it well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

&&

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

&&

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

&&

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

&&

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seriously disgusting.

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

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

&&

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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