#*conrete writes*

He sees you glowering sideways toward a table and following your line of sight, sees that customer lustfully eyeing you, catching his friends attention to make a stroking gesture toward his crotch as they all howl with laughter.

Vander exhales in a growl, recognizing the guy as the same one whom you mentioned earlier and leans forward toward you a little, "Is he still not gettin' the hint?"

"Nope," you reply through clenched teeth.

"Say the word darlin' and I'll personally throw'im out on his ass."

"If he tries anything else you can throw out what's left of him after I'm done."

He barks out a short laugh, your statement an unexpected and vivid reminder of one of the many reasons he loved you-your intellect, your beauty, your huge and fierce heart of course, now here was another; your unwillingness to take shit from anyone, especially obnoxious little rats like this guy. Reaching over, he gives your hand a brief, affectionate squeeze and flashes a reassuring smile before turning to fulfill the orders you had, passing you the stocked tray when he was finished.

He watches you walk away, another small smile on his face and pondering how he'd gotten so damn lucky before going back to his many other tasks.

Weaving between tables and patrons at various levels of intoxication, you deliver the drinks to a couple other spots...then draw a calming breath before heading back to the one you dreaded. Luckily they seemed more interested in whatever asinine conversation they were having than you at the moment, so you quickly set the mugs or glasses down and start to turn away.

"Heeeey there she ish!" the idiot slurred, blowing a kiss at you and beckoning you closer, "C'MON doll gimme a chance I shwear you'll love it!"

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you no, but NO," you snap firmly, gripping your tray, "Last chance. Back. Off."

The mood suddenly shifts in his bloodshot eyes, turning oddly dark and deciding you've had enough, you whirl on your heel and turn your back, reconsidering Vander's offer-

When the man abruptly lurches forward, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you backwards so you end up losing your balance, dropping your tray and fall right into his lap. You gasp out a string of curses, furious and indignant as you try to push him off but he holds you fast around your waist, and at this point even his companions are telling him to knock it off.

Still refusing to give up and now clearly feeling slighted, he whines angrily, "I dunno who thish dude is ya got but baby I can do better-" one hand slides up your side towards your chest.

The adrenaline and rage fully kick in and you throw your head backwards into his face, cracking against it and he shouts in pain, loosening his grip enough for you to break free, whereupon you leap away and whirl, swinging your fist right into his nose as onlookers cheer for you.

"Gyaaah!" he screeches, eyes scrunched shut yet still grabs for you, "Little bitch-!" but you spin away and take a quick step forward-

And right into Vander's arms.

He had seen most of what happened, your initial shout grabbing his attention. Instantly his hands curled into white-knuckled fists, cold fury boiling in his gut.

"...'Scuse me a moment." he gruffly and as calmly as possible informed the people nearest him at the counter, coming around it and striding purposefully across the room, making it to you at the perfect moment. Many, also seeing what was going on, had lowered their voices as they informed others, thus the noise of the entire room slowly dissipated into rippling murmurs.

Vander gently holds your face to look at you and carefully asks, "Ya okay, love?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm good..." you answer, eyes flashing in disgust and breath rapid, "I'll be even better once I break his face some more."

The faintest smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it's one that instantly raises the hairs on your neck because you know that look; that tight, humorless pseudo smile, his grey eyes that are at once burning with rage yet icy cold, how you could feel the muscles in his hands and arms coiled tight with the effort of maintaining self-control. It was a look you hadn't seen on him for some time and it always gave you chills; here was the famed and feared hound of the underground, the man that sent even Enforcers backing away...no threat to you but certainly one to the jerk he now glanced towards while speaking to you again.

"I understand, darlin'. But I also think you've 'ad to deal with this lump of shit enough. Why don't ya take a breather? I'll handle the rest."

The man's friends, sensing the oncoming storm, are now slowly sliding out of their chairs, distancing themselves as he's sitting there with his eyes still squeezed shut and holding his bleeding nose, swearing and complaining. You nod slowly, drawing deep breaths and raise one hand to rest it briefly against Vander's jaw; part of you still wants to beat this guy's ass, but you can see the barely controlled fury in his gaze on your behalf and desire to dole out justice. He meant to make an example of this asshole, and you respected and understood that desire. It was at this point the guy opened his eyes-and his face went from reddened in drunken anger to ghostly pale as he looked at the pair of you and realization set in.

His voice a shuddering squeak he asked, "W-w-wait, HE'S your man?!"

Flipping him off, earning a couple scattered snickers, you step back until you're off to the side of the counter as Vander pulls a chair around and sits across from him. Taking out his pipe and a match, he reaches to strike it on the metal plate on the man's gauntlet, tossing him a sarcastic nod of 'thanks', lighting the tobacco and taking a long, thoughtful puff. Vander takes his time, letting him sweat and building the tension, working the room like a performer commands their audience.

Desperate, knowing he had royally fucked up and scrambling to think of something the man stutters lamely, "Yo if-if I had known s-she was your girl I wouldn'ta-"

"Wouldn't 'ave what?" Vander interrupts, his tone eerily calm, "Harassed 'er? Insulted 'er? Touched 'er?" at this last point his voice sets into a low growl, "I don't see how who someone is or isn't with makes a damn bit 'a difference. Ya don't harass people mate, plain 'n simple."

He's a wolf, toying with his shaking, cornered prey as the entire room is watching in curiosity. The guy swallows audibly, staring at the floor then suddenly looks up at his friends, eyes wild and seeking some sort of validation or backup. However, they simply glance away. One quietly dares to speak up, "Nah bro. You went too far."

He lets out a whine, deflated, while Vander continues, "I don't think-"

Abruptly he leaps to his feet, shoving his chair aside and scrambling to try and run-but Vander is faster, standing to lunge and grab him by the shirt collar, slamming him hard into the wood floor as he yelps in pained shock. Several folks nearby cringe or flinch away, making mental notes to never cross this mountain of a man. Hauling him upwards, he drops him back in his chair where he rests on it with a groan as Vander sits back down too.

"Ah, don't worry ya can leave when I'm done..." he takes another drag on his pipe, blowing the smoke right at his quarry who coughs and weakly swats it away, "See, I'm not an idiot. I know a lotta things go on 'round here," he pauses to make a point of scanning the room with his steely grey eyes, "And sometimes, I'll let it slide. However, one thing I will never abide by, is what 'appened here. Someone tells ya no, ya stop. No question."

He leans forward, brow furrowed and in a gravelly tone that was more threat than suggestion, "Now, you got anythin' to say before ya go? An apology perhaps?"

Only you, knowing Vander as you do, truly comprehend how lucky this guy was; you see the thinly veiled fury in your love's features, and were this in his younger days he would have simply smashed the guy's face in before throwing him out like yesterday's trash. Now however, with his hard gained wisdom and leadership position he found it better to use this as a 'learning opportunity' for everyone present, as well as the people they would be talking to later.

The guy, glowering but full well knowing he was in enough trouble, sniffled and coughed before lifting his head enough to glance at you, "...sorry 'bout that..."

Your only reply is to incline your head, and he looks away again at his feet, sore and humiliated. Vander suddenly cracks a smile, though it's dark and almost mocking.

"There, that was easy wasn't it? Now ya can leave. C'mon then-"

Bracing his hands on his knees to stand, Vander grasps the man under the arm and hauls him to his feet, half helping him walk and half-dragging him to the exit, people scooting out of the way as they pass. Reaching the large doors, Vander opens one enough to unceremoniously and effortlessly toss the guy several feet away into the muddy street. He lands hard and rolls, but quickly drags himself to his knees then more unsteadily, to his feet. Several people nearby laugh or offer commentary and he stares at Vander with a pouting, defeated look. The large man leans casually against the doorframe, the embers from his pipe as he uses it illuminating his face with an amber hue, and he exhales a cloud of smoke into the damp evening air, meeting the man's gaze with an icy, humorless smile.

"If ya ever darken my door again, I don't think I need to tell ya what'll 'appen."

Without waiting for a response and knowing one wasn't needed, he turns to step back inside while shutting the door behind him. The barroom, which had been abuzz quiets again as he steps into the middle of the space and slowly looks around.

In a gruff voice that held no room for discussion he announces, "I'm only gonna say this once; I don't 'n will not tolerate that kinda shit from or toward anyone. Forget that 'n your gettin' the same treatment ya just saw. Are we clear?"

There's a ripple of nods and words of understanding, and slowly everyone returns to their drinks and conversations with Vander coming over to you, still in your out-of-the-way spot near the counter.

His arm slips around your waist and he murmurs while briefly touching his forehead to yours, his gaze intense, "Long as I'm around, I swear, no one's gonna treat ya like that 'n get off without catchin' hell."

You sigh, reaching up to rest your hands on his chest; his heart is hammering, and you move your hands to grasp his face, tenderly rubbing small circles with your thumbs.

"I know, Papa Bear and I love you for it. You know I've got your back too, right?"

"A'ight..." he relented, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow to watch you with half-lidded eyes. The breeze played with your hair and shifted the almost-transparent shirt around your form and he found himself hissing in a quiet breath; gods he was a lucky man. You crooked one eyebrow at him and smirked.

"What?"

"C'mere gorgeous." he murmured with a jerk of his head, voice gravelly from sleep and need.

Damn him he was irresistible, laying there with no shirt at all and nearly nothing else, and with another smirk you crossed the small room and crawled in next to him as he immediately threw his thick arms around you, falling back into the bed with you resting on his chest. There's a few moments of peaceful quiet, save for the background ambiance of the city's ever-constant nightlife, before you felt his body heat seep through your skin and raise your temperature all over again. The man was a living furnace, which in the chill of winter was a blessing but at this moment was certainly not.

"Vander..." you groaned, trying to pry yourself off him, "It's too hot for cuddling..."

He lifted his head to meet your gaze, for a moment looking miffed before his expression shifts, eyes opening a little more and brows down turned slightly, "Ya really don't want me to hold you?"

Oh no. He was doing it the bastard; giving you that soft, almost pleading look that he knew very well you couldn't resist. Despite being a generally serious, somewhat gruff man, the feared hound of the underground was at this moment little more than an overgrown puppy, especially with the serious case of 'puppy-dog eyes' he gave you.

"For fucks sake you're so needy sometimes-" you laughed, sitting up to remove your shirt entirely and his eyebrow went up, before you add, "Don't get excited I'm just cooling off as much as possible."

Tossing the garment aside you layed back down on him, his arms swiftly entrapping you and a contented sigh escaped you both.

There's silence again, as your combined heartbeats and breath created a soothing, sleep-inducing song before Vander spoke lowly into your hair with a tone that was at once gravely serious yet gently sincere, "...If I'm needy it's 'cause I need you..."

This time it's you who picked your head up to look at him, feeling your chest tighten with happiness. You reached to run a hand through his hair and down his jaw to settle in his beard, smiling softly before stretching to press your lips tenderly to his.

"....I need you too," you suddenly laugh, "But it's still too goddamn hot!"

1. I can work on a max of 2 at a time to be able to give them the attention and energy they deserve as well as have enough for my own projects. Please check the status on this post as I'll update it as needed.

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Soon after another train, the one they'd been waiting for, pulled into the station, the farthest front and back cars as well as the steam released from it's engine disappearing into the fog around it. The older man stood up a little straighter, motioning to the others to be alert. A couple passenger cars opened, clusters of riders hopping off to dart to the shelter of the station building. The trio waited, keeping watch for their contact. They didn't know what he looked like, only that he would meet them in that spot and greet them with a code phrase. A minute or so passed and it seemed everyone had exited the train, yet none had payed them any mind.

“Did...he get on the wrong train?” Jasper peered around, “Did we miss him?”

Coral turned to Bailey, "Is it possible?”

Bailey shook his head, “Nah lass, we checked and double checked. Just give it a moment before...”

In his side vision, he saw movement at the same moment the others did. An enormous, broad figure, obscured by the fog to only a shadowy outline, approached them from toward the train's rear cars. It was so large for a moment the group instinctively started to reach for their weapons, collectively wondering if a Grimm had appeared. It swiftly became apparent, however, that it was no Grimm, but a human man. The fog clouds finally parted enough for him to be plainly visible, mist and train steam snaking about him, making his long coat and hair swirl with them. In several more long strides he reached them, and they tried not to stare in disbelief over his sheer size. Jasper, out of the corner of his eye, just caught Coral's look of horrified panic, only for a moment before she seemed to compose herself, pulling her scarf up further around her face.