Chapter 6 - Not a life threatening story.
Dad went to answer the door, and the sound of his footsteps echoed dramatically around the living room. Seriously, it was over the top movie-style fodder, the way we all froze.
The sort of scene that Chloe would analyse as a 'tension-builder'. In all reality, it was totally inaccurate. It was not suspense born of fear that froze us , we were all way to accustomed to all the Scooby-doo remake chases to bother with scared anymore. Until there was a gun pointed at someone's head, it was just a waste of time and energy.
I relaxed, inhaling deeply, tilting my head to the ceiling, trying to come up with our next move. Tori had gotten a tiny netbook from her bag, and was furiously typing, Simon watching over her shoulder. They were supposedly both planning, too.
Chloe was smirking at all of us, her head shaking back and fourth slowly, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Glad to know we amuse you, babe." I murmured sarcastically down at her, but her grin just broadened, and she let out a tiny giggle. I frowned. Chloe was not a giggly girl. Ever.
"Care to explain?" Tori's irritated tone joined us, and it was nice to know that I wasn't the only one disturbed.
"We are not in any danger." She said each word firmly, like she was explaining to toddlers.
"And how do you deduce that, Sherlock?"
"Kit has been at the door for well over a minute. Don't you think that if there was a problem, we'd have heard it by now. He's probably just having a chat with on old lady from across the street, or the welcoming committee or something." She was still smirking, but we knew she was right. That probably made her so happy, beating me to an explanation.
"Right. So are we gonna stand here like lemons, or actually see who's at the door?" I sounded like the man in drag from a pantomime. There's somebody at the door. ect.
In true panto form, Tori fake tiptoed to the door. I sighed in mock annoyance, and smelled something I had bothered to acknowledge before. Werewolf.
Not a bad one, Chloe was quite right. If he was out to get us, someone would have shouted. Either Dad with a spell. Or the roar of him changing to wolf form.
I also knew exactly who it was. Zack.
Now I was slightly scared. It was not a social situation I was even remotely used to.
Before any of us even got into the hallway, the door slammed shut, and two pairs of footsteps came back to the living room, one buoyant, almost skipping. The other slightly unsure.
I had enough sense to know that the hesitance was Dad's, not Zack's.
"Derek, there's someone here to-"
I did not even try to register the last of Dad's sentence. It was rather unimportant, as Zack had literally jumped at me, like a wolf cub, enveloping me in a tight hug,
It was far more emotional than I was used to, and not a situation I had ever considered actually happening. Pathetic dream, that what I had thought.
I patted his back a little awkwardly, I happiest I had been in a long time.
I now had everything I needed.
Somehow, I was sappy enough to think, for once, that all danger had passed.
I pretended the small tear rolling down my cheek didn't exist, and no-one commented, not even Tori.
A/N End of the line, I think. Not as long or dramatic or anything like I originally planned, but her-ho. I've got an ongoing fic with a little bit of the Harry Potter style fighting and geeky-ness, please check that out. It's a whole lot better than this.
I felt like ending with a little sap. Even I kept them running from bad people, they'd probably develop shell shock, post traumatic stress or something by the time they settled down. And that's just cruel.