“Come on, you bastard! Get in there!” A loud, frustrated male voice cried out into the empty kitchen. The source of the young man’s ire was a small cabinet that was just a shade of a hair too wide for the space he had spent the better part of that morning preparing. 

I can’t shave anymore off this thing without completely ruining it. These cheap boards Dick made me buy are just about to snap if I press any harder. Blasted miser. I told him that - in painstaking detail - that using this cast=off garbage wouldn’t fly. The cheapskate just wasn’t willing to budge to spend an extra fifty bucks to have it done right! He practically accused me of gouging him and trying to upsell him with materials that wouldn’t make any difference. What does he know?! I’ve been doing this since I was allowed to hold a power saw while he’s been living off his disability and playing MMORPGs all day! Balancing the cabinet with his legs, he paused to wipe the sweat off his brow and cool his temper before he shattered the flimsy furniture. As he ran his fingers through the tangle of soaked brown hair at the base of his neck, he sighed heavily. Dick could have gotten some pre-built crap for what he needed but I had to say I could do it better at the same price! Me and my big mouth! Wiping the sweat from his brow, he shoved his lucky rag into his jean’s back pocket and stared at the mulish cabinet.
Still, I couldn’t afford to lose this job. Not with the wedding coming up. We need all the cash we can get. I don’t want us to use our folks as crutches whenver the going gets tough. Bracing himself into position, he looked down at the cabinet. So, all right you little bugger. Let’s get you in your home! Grunting with effort, he shoved with all his might for a full minute. The cabinet refused to budge a millimeter. Exasperated, he set the cabinet down and stepped back. All right! That’s it! The gloves are now officially OFF!

Taking a quick look around, he confirmed that he was still the only person in the entire efficiency apartment and there wasn’t anyone in view of the sole window in the place, and began quickly unbuttoning his shirt. Removing most of his clothing and shoes, he gave out a soft growl and instantly shifted from a 6-foot tall,  well-toned and muscular human being into a 7-½-foot tall two-legged light brown wolf balanced on thick fur pads. Picking up the cabinet, he had to be extremely careful to not damage the veneer finish with his now two-inch long, razor-sharp claws. With barely a grunt of effort, the newly transformed werewolf began pushing the cabinet back into the slot. 

The cabinet emitted a slight groaning of wood and a sharp crack rang throughout the apartment as the cabinet slid all the way back to sit flush against the kitchen wall. Returning to his human form, Kyle Thomas Harper, one of Derrick Fall’s best contractors, redressand and carefully examined the cabinet and its shelving for any structural damage. Finding none, he put his clothes back on and examined his work.

Not too shabby. It was worth losing another pair of boxers to get this done.  This might have been one of the worst jobs I’ve done lately but I’ll be happy with the money Dick is going to fork over. Kyle then brushed some sawdust off his hands on his pants.  Ok. What’s next? He pulled out his phone and checked his schedule. Ok. I’ve got an hour to clean up this mess, get a quick bite to eat, and then it’s off to Mrs. Miller’s place. He resisted the impulse to sigh. This is the fifth time this month I’ve had to repair that bathroom faucet. I keep offering to replace it at cost for her but she always says it’s no big deal. Honestly,  I think she just wants a little company so I never press too hard. It’s been rough on her since Mr. Miller passed away last year.  Between Mr. Miller and Gramps, I wouldn’t be doing what I love. I owe both of them so I’m happy to pay them back however I can. Grabbing his toolbox and heading out to his old Ford pickup truck, Kyle kept thinking to himself. So an easy ten-minute fix, ok really two but she likes to watch me work the same as she did all those long weekends with Mr. Miller in his garage on those summer projects so how can I refuse? That’ll be followed by roughly a half-hour of cookies and small talk, and then I’ll be free for the day.  I should have enough time to clean up for tonight. Becca will kill me if I’m late to her parents’ for the rehearsal. We’ve only been planning this thing for six months and tomorrow’s the big day. Sure someone might think it cliche’ for a guy to marry the girl next door but they can piss off. She’s one of a kind and I’m damn lucky to have her! 

He put his toolbox back in its slot in the truck bed and pulled out his phone again. First, he called Dick to tell him the job was done and that he could leave payment with his grandfather at his hardware store since Steve planned to be somewhere in the next 48 hours to be on the opposite side of the world with a rum-filled coconut in one hand and the most gorgeous woman in the world wearing the bikini he planned on sneaking into their luggage in the other. He smirked to himself at that thought. She’d never wear anything like that around people she’d know. She’d be too embarrassed to show that much skin, despite that killer body of hers. A boyish grin split his face. Yet another reason I’m glad we’re going to Tahiti. He opened the side door and slid into the driver’s seat. He then dialed the number at the top of his speed dial.  

This time a sultry contralto answered. “Hey, baby.  How’s your day going?”

“Oh. The usual. Slam some wood together, pound a few nails, and make sure I come home with all ten fingers and toes.  How’s yours?”
“Pretty much the same. Quiet.” He heard her chuckle and it never failed to start his pulse racing. “By the way, you’re still on track for the rehearsal tonight at my parents’?” Though the tone was still as light and airy as always, Kyle wasn’t dumb enough to not miss the subtle threat. He knew he wasn’t the most reliable at keeping appointments and having an angry fiancé the day before her wedding was pretty much signing his own death warrant, so he answered honestly.  “Yep. Just finished at Dick’s. I’m off to Mrs. Miller’s for that faucet. I’ve got plenty of time and I’ll be there with wine. Don’t worry Red. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Your mom’s meatballs are just too good.”

“Well, that’d be a nice change of pace.” Kyle didn’t quite wince at that. Granted, Kyle loved his work and had made some incredible pieces. But he could become completely immersed in a project and that didn’t do his social life any favors.  At least Becca’s got a legitimate excuse. Being an EMT and studying to become a full-time nurse is pretty hardcore when she has to cut a date short. Saving lives is a bit more important than screwing two boards together after all. “Also, don’t eat too many of her cookies. You ruin your appetite and Mom will...you know…” Kyle’s head nodded in silent agreement. “I should be home right after my shift. See you in a bit, Fido. I love you.”

“Love you too, Red.” The call disconnected and Kyle shoved the phone back into his pocket.  He turned over the ignition and listened to the rumble of the old blue pickup’s V6 engine. The truck was his father’s and, no matter how old it got or how many parts he had to replace, Kyle would never sell it. It was one of the few things he had left of his dad and he’d never give it up.  Sometimes, when the breeze was just right, he swore he could smell his father’s cologne or his mother’s perfume coming off the cushions and it always made him smile as he thought they were there with him. Throwing the truck into gear, Kyle started off to his next job, a large smile on his face.. 

***

“Well, that’s just great. Now, I’m going to have to hose the rig out just to get all that saccharine you spewed onto the dash,” a deep bass male voice came from the driver’s side of the ambulance. “I’m a diabetic you know and Marcy’d be quite upset if I went into a coma before she got to play dress up.” 

“Hey, Carl”, Becca Samathana Daniels, EMT for St. Christopher’s Hospital, replied as she held out the phone to him. “You’ve got a call from a Mr. Kettleandpot. He keeps saying you’re black.”

Her partner chuckled. “Glad to know his eyesight’s still working.” The late middle-aged senior paramedic and Becca’s trainer glanced over at her. “Now, if he started calling me white, then I’d have to worry about him.”

“Just so we’re in agreement then. Otherwise, I’d have to call Marcy and tell her that her man isn’t as sweet as he appears to be and that it’s all been an act for her.”

“Oh no!” Carl exclaimed as he threw his left hand into the air as his right gripped the steering wheel. “You’ve found out my evil scheme! Truly, you are unrivaled in your deductive capacity!” He then gripped the steering wheel with his left hand while placing his right over his heart. “Whatever will I do now?! How can I possibly go on now that my soul has been laid completely bare at your feet?”

“You buy the next round of coffee and I’ll call it even,” Becca replied with her trademark smirk fixed firmly in place while her emerald eyes glimmered with glee.
Carl glanced over at his younger partner and smiled. “Deal,” he replied. Both knew that it was already Carl’s turn for the coffee anyway. Yet, the two also knew they had to play their little drama out to its finish. Life as an emergency service worker was mostly made up of boredom and routine with a dash of driving the elderly to their doctors. It’s when life decided to sprinkle in the quick, small moments of absolute gut-wrenching terror that a person found out just what they were made of.
That terror, as brief as it could be, could last a lifetime. There was a very good reason that St. Christopher’s policy mandated psych evals after any particularly nasty incidents with a bi-annual routine visit as part of their physicals. It would only add to the current tragedy if they froze while reliving a past experience and not working on the broken body before them. 

Becca knew she had been pretty lucky so far in this regard of her chosen profession. The worst she’d seen so far had been when a drunk college kid decided to play chicken with an oak tree and the tree didn’t blink. The poor fool wasn’t wearing his seat belt, of course, and was immediately ejected from the vehicle on impact.  They had finally found his head roughly 30 meters from the crash. 

Carl had seen much worse, of course, and earned his spurs working at Chicago’s Metro Hospital for the last twenty-odd years. He and his wife Marcy had transferred to Derrick’s Falls roughly five years ago to enjoy a much less stressful environment as they entered their golden years. He’d been assigned to Becca for almost a full year now and saw that she was going to be one the good ones. She could handle herself when the crap hit the fan, and was calm under pressure that’d crack most people, but neither of them were looking forward to when she would truly earn her stripes.

After signing off and parking at the local coffee shop, Mocha-Me-Crazy, the two went inside, ordered their usuals, and sat at their corner booth. 

Letting the coffee warm his hands, Carl looked at his partner and chuckled. “So, tomorrow’s the big day. Scared, Kid?”

Becca looked down at her coffee, took a sip and replied, slightly too hastily, “Nope. Not at all.” She took another sip to have the mug hide the slight blush in her cheeks.

“Bullcrap,” Carl laughed as he downed a big swig of his own beverage. “Anyone who says they’re not nervous or scared when they’re about to take the plunge is either lying or stupid.” He leaned in closer as he pointed at her.  “I know for a fact that you ain’t stupid.”

Becca blushed even more. She hated it when she blushed. It always stood out on her fair complexion almost as bright as a stoplight while making her faint freckles shine like scales. She took a longer sip to try to settle her nerves. Setting the mug down, she looked at her friend straight in the eye. “Ok. Ok. You got me. Kyle and I have been planning this for so long…” Carl’s right eyebrow arched slightly. “Ok. I’ve been planning this for so long and he’s agreed to it that both of us are looking forward to it finally being done and over with but I can’t lie. It feels like the Timberwolves’ Marching Band is giving a sold-out performance in my stomach right now.”

Carl softly chuckled. “Yep. That sounds about right.”

Becca pointed her left index finger at her partner like a pistol. “Don’t get me wrong bucko. I love Kyle with all my heart and I can’t wait to start our new life together.” She lowered her hand and cradled her mug as her voice dropped in both intensity and volume. “But I’m also scared senseless. The thought that everything I know is going to be different has been keeping me up at night. That I won’t be waking up alone anymore and that there will be tons of our quirks crossing over each other until we find a groove is driving me insane.” Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. “Sometimes, it just seems so overwhelming, you know?” She took a long pull from her mug and Carl pretended not to notice her hands slightly shaking as she held the steaming mug and stared down into the brown liquid.

He leaned back against the booth, the old vinyl squeaking slightly against the weight. He waited until she raised her head before he spoke. “I do indeed Becca. It took me and Marcy a very long time to get used to each other.” He chuckled. “Well, probably more on Marcy getting used to me than the other way around. Dating doesn’t even begin to let you know all the ins and outs of a person.” He chuckled softly.  “I still shudder at buying her that iron for our first anniversary. She said she really needed a new one, so I bought her the best one I could find. I was so sure she was going to love it!” He smirked as he took another swig. “I’m still amazed at just how strong her pitching arm is. Our kid would’ve been the next Nolan Ryan.” He laughed as the memory played out in his mind. He leaned down conspiratorially,  “Word of advice you may want to give your hubby is that you don’t buy an iron as an anniversary gift. Never ends well and you usually have to spackle a wall.” He shifted back against the booth. 

“In all seriousness Becca, you’re going to be just fine. I’ve known the two of you for a while and even a blind man could see that you’re made for each other. Don’t get me wrong though. There’s going to be fights, screaming, and times when you just can’t believe how incredibly stupid Kyle’s acting and he’s going to do the same with you. It’s just human nature. To offset that though, there’s going to be love, forgiveness, and a feeling that you just can’t quite describe but know it’s there and you wondered how you ever lived your life without it.” His face then lit up with a boyish grin. “Also, the make-up sex is out of this world.”

Becca choked on her coffee as her cheeks went as scarlet as her shoulder-length hair.  After a minute of a sputtering coughing fit, she locked her emerald eyes on her partner like a pair of guided missile batteries. 

Carl simply continued chuckling to himself as he knew exactly which button to press. The grin on his face practically split his head in two. Sex was actually a rather touchy subject for Becca. Though it wasn’t because she was a prude or anything like that. 

Between her own medical training and those dime store romance novels she’d read during their breaks, she felt she was quite well versed in just what the process of intimacy entailed.  Still, she knew that there’s a world of difference between knowing something and actually experiencing it. As a result, Carl loved to tease her on that little fact. Still smiling, Carl leaned in and lowered his tone to a whisper. “Look, Becca, I know that you know about it but, if you need some advice, I know your mother or Marcy would be happy to help explain the ways of things. I’m sure their mothers did the same. Believe me, it’s scary for everyone the first time out, even with someone you love with your entire being. There’s no stopping the million things running through your head.. So if you want to talk about it before the big night, I know they’d make sure that both of you would be ok.”

Draining the mug in a couple of large swallows, Becca put it on the table and leaned in as well. She reached out and gently clasped Carl’s hand. Her slender hands barely covered just one of his bear-sized paws. “I appreciate the offer, Carl. I really do. It’s not that easy for me to talk about this kind of stuff with anyone. I know she’d be happy to help but if I went to my mother…” she paused as a shudder ran through her. “Well, there are a few things that I never want to hear about what my mom and dad did; or still do in all honesty.” She sighed heavily. “There’s just so much out there and so much to do that I don’t even know where Kyle and I would begin. Sometimes, I do regret our decision to wait and have our first time together be the wedding night. We spent quite a while debating the pros and cons of it and I’m glad that we had that talk. Yet I still can’t help…” she trailed off.

Carl nodded his head sagely. “Go on.”

Becca’s voice dropped to an even softer whisper. “I can’t help worrying that he’ll hate it. That I’d screw up something and he’d never want to try again.”

Carl resisted the urge to throw his head back and laugh like a madman. He could see the pain and fear in her eyes. To both him and Marcy, Becca had become more than his trainee. She was an adopted daughter in their eyes; the child they were never able to have.  He’d be damned before he did anything to hurt her. “Becca,” his voice soft and consoling as he patted her hands in a fatherly gesture, “you’re no different than the billions of other couples throughout history. I felt the exact same way with Marcy and I can safely bet your parents felt the same too. You’re overthinking this.” He softly chuckled before continuing. “Let me be one-hundred percent honest with you. You’re going to screw it up. A lot.” Becca’s head twitched in shock as her eyes grew wide. He laughed a little louder and smirked. “But guess what? So is he.” His smile grew wider as he took her hands in his. “That’s a large part of the fun, Becca. Finding out what each other likes and dislikes. Laughing at the mistakes you make and trying it again. All those movies and books and whatnot that show you what-to-do and how-to-do-it perfectly every time? There’s a reason it’s called fiction. Don’t worry about what you’re supposed to do or how you’re supposed to feel. Just live in the moment with the man you love. Trust me, the two of you will be just fine.” 

Becca knew what Carl was trying to tell her and she deeply appreciated it. More than she ever could ever say. But there was one very important difference between his relationship and hers. Oh, Carl. If you only knew half of what he’s scared of doing while we’re together. Most women don’t have to worry about claws tearing the sheets or other more squishy bits into shreds involuntarily; or have inch-long fangs bite into them during a moment of passion. I sure hope Richard finally set him down and talked about this with him. I’ve only been asking him to do it for the past two months. As she looked across the table at her partner, she knew what she had to do to allay his fears.

Becca took a deep steadying breath as she squared her shoulders and her blush faded. “Thanks, Old Man.”

“Hey, that’s part of the job description you know.” He threw her a thumbs-up. “Now, we gotta get back on the bus. But, before we do, there’s just two things I have to know.” Becca quirked her left eyebrow questioningly. “First, are you ever going to tell me where that “Fido| nickname came from?”

Becca’s smirk was back in place. “One day, Old Man. I promise. But for now, that’s my little secret.” 

“Fair enough. Now onto the $100,000 question though. Please tell me you got something to wear tomorrow night that’ll knock his socks off.”

As she opened the café’s door, her smirk widened. “You better believe it, bucko.” She winked at her partner. “Not just his socks either.”

Carl couldn’t stop laughing until they pulled out of the parking lot. 

***

Elsewhere, ten heavily armed and armored men climbed aboard a military-grade helicopter. There were no identifying marks of any kind on the sleek black fuselage. As the rotors began to spin furiously and the aircraft achieved lift, it turned to an easterly heading. If any air traffic controller had been able to track the trajectory, it looked like it was on a direct course for Derrick’s Falls.