SIGMUND: Sigmund hadn't heard anything new about the archive manager position. Rumor had it that hiring had been done recently and when Sigmund came back from his dinner break to finish up some paperwork, he was thinking about Brennan. That wasn't particularly out of the ordinary for the last few days though. Since he'd met the kid, he'd been interested by his careless, indecisive attitude. Stopping by the front desk, he chatted with Sandra, the receptionist for a little while.

BRENNAN: Surprisingly, it hadn't taken very long for Brennan to get the job. His manager at the smoothie place had been less than thrilled when Brennan announced his plan to leave but definitely couldn't offer him the $ an hour that the paper was going to give him. He'd been hard at work in the archive department for the past four hours and decided to take his lunch break, nevermind the fact that it was nine at night. As he passed by the receptionist desk on the way to the break room, he saw Sigmund there and gave him a shy little wave before he even realized what he was doing.

SIGMUND: Doing a bit of a double-take, Sigmund registered Brennan's presence and unfortunately, the receptionist was rather unceremoniously passed off mid-sentence. "Surly you're not here for an interview at," he looked at his watch. "Nine o'clock at night?" And if that wasn't the case, then Brennan must have already gotten the job. It pleased him more than even he'd expected.

BRENNAN: "I um...sort of called that day I met you and interviewed the next day," Brennan admitted, fighting to keep the light blush off his cheeks. Why was it that he always seemed to be blushing around Sigmund? He ran a hand through his hair to push his bangs out of his face. "I started yesterday," he added. The best part of the job was that his schedule was - most days and that he had plenty of time for class and homework earlier in the day.

SIGMUND: He laughed at the fact that Brennan had been so eager to get the job. It was probably the pay, but it didn't hurt to think maybe the kid had liked him enough to take his advice, even if it seemed begrudging at the time. Leaning casually against the receptionist's desk, who was glaring at his back just a little, Sigmund tried to be as cool as humanly possible. Still, when he moved back slightly, he knocked a can of pens over onto the floor. So much for werewolf prowess. "Well that's great." About the job, he meant, as he bent down to pick up the scattered pens.

BRENNAN: Brennan had been about to open his mouth to say something else, what exactly he wasn't sure, when he noticed the receptionist's glare toward Sigmund's back. He hadn't meant to intrude on the conversation, but just as he was about to apologize and make for the break room, the pens went scattering all over the floor. Without even thinking, he quickly dropping to his knees to pick up the ones that had rolled across the floor to where he was standing. "Oh, shit. Here you go," he said, scrambling to get most of them for Sigmund. He felt bad for being somewhat of a douche to him and was really very thankful for the tip about the job.

SIGMUND: Sigmund was quick, and gathered the pens, taking the ones from Brennan as well. "Thanks." He wasn't the sort to blush, but a sheepish expression rushed to his eyes and lingered against his mouth as he stood back up. Setting the cup back on Sandra's desk, Sigmund gestured in the direction Brennan had been heading. "Where are you off to?"

BRENNAN: "Oh, me?" Brennan asked, getting to his feet again. "Just...the break room, you know," he pointed down the hall. "I haven't eaten since breakfast and I brought a sandwich with me so..." he trailed off, taking a few slow steps in that direction. He didn't expect Sigmund to come with him just because he sort of knew him. In fact, he really wasn't sure he wanted to from the way Sandra's eyes were boring 'kill' holes into the center of his chest at the moment.

SIGMUND: Lying wasn't Sigmund's thing, but fibbing didn't really hurt. Glancing at the clock, he held up his hands. "Hey, I could use a snack break, I'll go with you." Sandra started to open her mouth to inform both of them that Sigmund had just returned from dinner, but Sigmund coughed loudly and ushered Brennan out of hearing range. "So, like it so far?"

BRENNAN: Surprised to see Sigmund following after him, Brennan couldn't help the tiny smile that spread over his face. "I really do," he nodded, pushing open the door to the break room. "It's so much more...interesting, than smoothies," he said, heading over to the refrigerator to grab his sandwich and can of soda he'd brought from home. "I don't know if all of my coworkers like me though. Most of them are a older than me and well..." He was only and the four other people in his department were a little affronted that some punk kid was their manager just because he had more computer skills.

SIGMUND: "Reggie's face always looks like that." Sigmund commented, partially making a joke, and partially telling the honest to God truth about Reggie's squinty-eyed look of perpetual grouchiness. With a werewolf's appetite, he could always eat, so he pumped a few quarters into the snack machine and got out a pack of Oreos. Sitting down at one of the little tables, Sigmund waited to pull open the bag so that he could take a moment to breathe in the smells lingering on Brennan's clothes. The cold of the fridge interfered with many of the scents on the sandwich and soda, but Brennan himself was rife with information.

BRENNAN: "Does it?" Brennan laughed, bringing his food to sit over at the table. He opened the sandwich and took a really big bite. He was starving, not having eaten since early that morning. "Do you know everybody who works here?" He asked, popping open the top on his soda. "How long have you worked here?" He didn't exactly know why he was so chatty with Sigmund at the moment but he guessed it was better to be asking the questions than having to answer them. And he knew Sigmund was a question asker.

SIGMUND: Sigmund had to respect that size of a bite, he really did. "Well, I thought I knew everyone who worked here, but since I didn't even know you'd been hired, I guess I can't say that anymore." Who knew how many people they'd snuck in under his nose. Tearing open the bag, he popped a whole Oreo in his mouth, not wasting the time to break it in half and eat it the classic way. "And I've been here about twelve years."

BRENNAN: "Wow twelve years? Twelve years ago I was...eight," Brennan replied before realizing what had just come out of his mouth. He'd either just called Sigmund very old or himself very young and as his cheeks went red again, he stuffed another bite of sandwich into his mouth as he let his bangs swing down to cover his eyes again.

SIGMUND: Well that was a bit of a wakeup call, but he refused to lower his eyes from the math hanging between them. Still, he felt the discomfort build in his limbs, forcing them to move a little. "Yeah, well I'll be forty in a couple months, so twelve years isn't all that long. But whippersnappers like you can't be helped--I've learned to deal with it." No, he would not think about how that made Brennan only a year older than his little brother, who often times felt more like a son.

BRENNAN: "I'm not a whippersnapper," Brennan snorted, almost choking on the sip of coke in his mouth. "You want me to start calling you grandpa or something?" He teased, finishing off the rest of his sandwich in one bite. He was still hungry but it couldn't be helped. There was only so much in the budget for groceries.

SIGMUND: Sigmund did his best, but he couldn't hide the wince that went along with that word. "Oh god, no. Forty is the new thirty." So they said, though he'd rather it be the new twenty considering the situation he was in right now. Glancing down at the rest of his cookies, he held them up, offering them to Brennan with a raise of his eyebrows.

BRENNAN: "Oh...is that what they're saying now?" Brennan laughed, pulling his phone out of his pocket when it vibrated. It was a text from his girlfriend and when he read it, he looked rather annoyed and just shoved it back in his pocket without replying. Then he noticed Sigmund was offering the cookies. "You don't want them?" He asked hesitantly, forcing himself to be polite even though he wanted to snatch them up directly. Oreos were his favorite cookie.

SIGMUND: "No, actually I just had my dinner break, that's what Sandra was desperately trying to tell you while I was pushing you down the hall." He didn't know why he'd come clean about that, but it wasn't an earth shattering lie. People took extra breaks all the time, and he'd wanted to chat with Brennan. He pushed the cookies across the table.

BRENNAN: "Oh..." Brennan nodded, downing two of the cookies before looking up at Sigmund, realizing what he'd said. "So...why did you come down here with me?" He asked, raising his own eyebrow in a confused manner. For all of Brennan's maturity that came with living alone and going to school full time and working an almost full time job, he could still be horribly naive at times, especially because he had never considered looking at men in any way other than as friends.

SIGMUND: That was a good question, and Sigmund had to think it over. There was the perfectly honest answer, and then there was the answer he'd allow himself to believe. Finally, there was the answer he was going to give Brennan. "Because I wanted to see how you were settling in. I'm going to be one of those annoying coworkers who tries to befriend you and bribes you with cookies."

BRENNAN: "Is that like the ice cream man who bribes the little kids with popsicles?" Brennan teased, nudging Sigmund's foot with his own under the table in a joking manner. "Just teasin," he said, polishing off the other cookies before reaching for his soda to wash it down. "Oh...and what are you bribing me to do, exactly?" He asked.

SIGMUND: Right. Brennan was absolutely right. This was a bad idea, for more than just the age difference, Brennan wasn't a werewolf, afterall. Not that all werewolves had to pair off with other supernatural beings. And Brennan didn't exactly scream gay to boot. Smiling, although the expression seemed a little forced at this point, Sigmund stood up. "Oh, I don't know. Put all of my articles on the front page in archives so at least I'm remembered as a headliner?"

BRENNAN: "Oh, is that what you want?" Brennan grinned, getting up to throw his trash away. "Some fame for when your grandkids google you?" He teased, draining the rest of his soda from the can before tossing it into the recycling. Glancing up at the clock, he noted the time. "I'm so glad I don't have class tomorrow," he smiled. That meant he could actually go out and do something after work, not that he had a huge social life. His girlfriend lived about two hours away and most of his other friends just liked to party and drink a lot.

SIGMUND: "Yeah? Any plans?" The mention of no class begged the question, and Sigmund wasn't going to pass up the opportunity. Even if his brain had decided firmly against whatever plan it had wanted to hatch to spend more time with Brennan, his behavior was still gearing in that direction. Who knew when, or if it would stop. Maybe Sigmund would just run on autopilot until a very inopportune moment when he woke up from his little fantasy and fled the scene.

BRENNAN: "No, no plans," Brennan shook his head. "I don't really do anything aside from school or work. My girlfriend goes to State so...kinda far to hang out except on the weekends, you know?" He shifted from foot to foot before heading for the door. "I better get back to work, man. Thank you for the cookies...and the job," he said, even though Sigmund hadn't been the one who hired him.

SIGMUND: There was his answer, though he hadn't even asked himself the question yet. Girlfriend. Lifting up his hand in a casual wave, Sigmund nodded a non-descript, friendly 'welcome.' It was definitely for the best anyway, he thought to himself, turning back to the snack machine to get some chips to take back to his desk.

BRENNAN: "Can I buy you a drink as thanks?" Brennan asked, paused in the doorway. Sure, he was only twenty but what college kid worth his salt didn't have a fake ID these days? He shifted from foot to foot again, waiting for Sigmund's response. "Don't worry. I'm not one of those irresponsible drunken frat dudes. I don't drink that much, really." He didnt want the older man to think he expected him to go out and get sloshed with him after work.

SIGMUND: Connection between logical brain and behavior having not quite been reestablished yet, Sigmund nodded. "Sure. I'd like that." He blinked; it'd been a long time since he'd felt so out of control of his own actions, and of a situation. Not even questioning the underage part, he simply accepted the fact that if Brennan said he could do it, he could. "My office is on the second floor."

BRENNAN: "Okay then," Brennan smiled, giving him another wave. "I get off at eleven," he told Sigmund, starting to head out the door but then he paused again. "When do you get off?" He asked, cocking his head to the side to force his bangs to swoosh out of his eyes.

SIGMUND: "I'm here until I want to leave. I've got enough work to keep me busy until then though." Yeah, he was waiting around for nearly two hours for some under twenty-one year old to take him for a drink. Great. One with a girlfriend too. It didn't mean anything; he just wanted to be friends. "Come up and get me when you're done, all right?"

BRENNAN: "I will. For sure, man," Brennan grinned, giving Sigmund one last wave before heading back up to archives. He spent the last hour and a half of work finishing up an issue he'd been working on earlier but thoughts of Sigmund were never far from his mind. He told himself it was because the man had gotten him the job and because he was really the only one he knew here and just attempted to focus on his work.

SIGMUND: Sigmund was completely useless back at his desk. The first few minutes were spent trying to sculpt a tower out of the paperclip magnet bobble someone had bought him for Christmas the year before. The next hour was spent staring at his computer screen, moving the mouse whenever the screensaver kicked on. Every ten minutes or so, he glanced at the Felix the Cat clock on the wall, tail twitching back and forth as its big googly eyes ticked away the seconds. When eleven rolled around, Sigmund started shutting down his computer.

BRENNAN: Brennan was out of his office at and on his way to the second floor after a bathroom stop before the clock hit . He wasn't quite sure which office was Sigmund's, so he just walked along until he found the one with the older man's name on the outside. Knocking on the door, he stepped back and waited, telling himself that he really shouldn't be so excited to hang out with him.

SIGMUND: The door swung open from the force of Brennan's knock, having been unlatched but shut. Sigmund looked up and couldn't help but smile brightly at him, too brightly. Slipping on his jacket, he stepped around his desk, sliding his cell phone into his coat pocket. "Ready?" Because he definitely was and had been itching to get out of that office since he'd walked back into it.

BRENNAN: "Yeah, totally," Brennan smiled, kind of taken aback by the door opening on its own. "Do you have a favorite spot?" He asked, not really knowing the area very well down by the paper office. "I live up by the school and I'm pretty sure you don't want to go hang out in a bunch of college spots, Gramps," he teased a little, still thinking about the Whippersnapper comment earlier.

SIGMUND: "Okay, that right there? Definitely going to have to stop. I promise to never call you a whippersnapper, a youngun, or a kiddo so long as you promise never to call me any derivation of grandfather." After a second, he shut the office door behind him. "There's a nursing home up the street, they have margaritas on Wednesdays."

BRENNAN: That made Brennan laugh and he held up his hands. "Sorry, sorry," he grinned. "I can see I touched a nerve there." He laughed even harder when Sigmund made the nursing home joke, glad to see that he hadn't actually been offended. "I do like margaritas," he added. "Tequila is my favorite."

SIGMUND: "El Sombrero then." It was a Mexican restaurant with a bar in the back. They really did have the best margaritas in town and Sigmund could have gone for some chips right then. "We can walk up there." It wasn't far, and though the evening was a bit cool, it wasn't too cold to walk.

BRENNAN: "Okay," Brennan smiled, heading out toward the stairs with Sigmund. He conveniently decided to forget about the fact that tequila usually made him pretty riled up and instead mentally ran through how much cash he had in his wallet. Probably enough for two drinks each, by his calculations. He could spare it so long as he walked to class next week instead of driving. Once he got his first paycheck from the paper though, things wouldn't be as tight.

SIGMUND: As promised, the walk was short, and the place wasn't very busy. Picking a table instead of sitting at the bar, Sigmund naturally took the lead in getting them situated. He ordered a peach margarita, admittedly a slightly girlie drink, but Sigmund was the sort of man who could order girlie drinks and still come off as pretty tough--sort of.

BRENNAN: Brennan ordered a regular margarita on the rocks and showed the waiter his ID when he asked. Reaching forward to snag a couple of the complimentary chips, he looked over at Sigmund. "So..." he said, smiling a little.

SIGMUND: On the rocks. Sigmund looked a little impressed. "So..." He repeated, and then took that as an opportunity to ask a question. "Girlfriend. How's that going?" That's what guys talked about, right? Chicks. Sigmund had never really been all that in to women, though a few had been in to him, Sandra, the receptionist for one.

BRENNAN: "Oh...you know," Brennan shrugged. "We've been together about a year. She did her undergrad here last year and now she's at State for graduate work." Every other guy usually looked impressed when they found out that Brennan had scored an 'older woman' and he looked to Sigmund to see how he might react. "What about you? Got a girlfriend?" A glance at his ring finger told Brennan there was at least no wife in the picture.

SIGMUND: About a year was a long time to Sigmund. His longest relationship had lasted two months and the pack had thought it was a sign of the apocalypse. His face didn't give anything away though, except more curiosity about the other. He wanted to know every little bit about him. "Too bad you can't see each other more often." Though he didn't really sound like he thought it was all that bad. "And no, no girlfriend, no boyfriend. I'm notoriously single."

BRENNAN: No boyfriend. That was odd to Brennan. Sure, he had gay friends but he hadn't ever pictured Sigmund dating a man...not that he'd really pictured him dating a woman either. "Oh, well...yeah," he shrugged, eating another chip. "I always was too, you know? Never dated anyone in highschool or the first year or so of college really. She was my first...girlfriend," he added quickly, not wanting Sigmund to think he meant first sexual partner but really yes, it was true. Personally, Brennan found sex to be pretty overrated for as much as his friends talked it up. He never really wanted it that bad in between times of seeing Jenny and when they were together, sure it was nice enough, but Brennan could take it or leave it.

SIGMUND: Sigmund laughed a little, catching and interpreting that pause between 'first' and 'girlfriend' exactly for the reason it'd been made. When the waitress brought over their drinks, Sigmund was relieved, happy to have something else to occupy him because his hands were getting tired of shoving chips in his mouth. "Your first and you've lasted nearly a year? Congrats."

BRENNAN: What Brennan wasn't aware of was that Jenny had quite the torrid love affair going with one of her female professors at school and that he was only still around to please her conservative parents. "Yeah...almost a year," he smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Her mom keeps asking when we're going to get married and that kind of freaks me out though," he admitted, taking a long drink of his margarita.

SIGMUND: "Is it her, or is marriage just scary?" Sigmund thought the idea of marriage was terrifying. He hadn't found anyone with an even remote potential for mate-status. Sipping at his drink, Sigmund pushed the straw around in the blended liquid. "Twenty is way too young for nuptuals, I think. How old is she?"

BRENNAN: "Oh...I don't know," Brennan shrugged again, taking another sip of his margarita. "You're right...twenty is too young. I don't even know what I'm doing with myself. Probably shouldn't be getting married then, you know?" He reached for another chip and then looked at Sigmund again. "I'm just a kid."

SIGMUND: "I wouldn't go that far." To call Brennan a kid, even though he knew it was true. "I have a brother about your age, Logan. I think he's found 'the one'" Sigmund made air quotes around that, not mocking, but noting the phrase's importance. "Everyone's different. When the right person comes along, I guess that's when you're old enough."

BRENNAN: "You have a brother my age?" Brennan grinned, swirling his drink to make the ice cubes clink against the glass. "How does he know he's found 'the one?'" He took a sip and put his drink down. "How does he know he's in love?" Brennan had never been sure if he was in love with Jenny.

SIGMUND: Sigmund liked that sound, and he took a second to appreciate it. He couldn't imagine being human and not being able to experience the world the way his enhanced senses allowed him to. "I do. And he's known the guy forever, maybe it was just a time thing. I've never actually asked him that question, so I don't know." But it was clear from the way Logan talked about Jesse, and how fiercly he protected him. "Maybe I should ask him one of these days."

BRENNAN: "Yeah...and then tell me what he says," Brennan smiled, stealing another chip from the basket. He sighed a little and rubbed at his forehead, just looking at Sigmund. "I always wanted a brother...or a sister," he said. "Is he your only one or do you have more?"

SIGMUND: "He's my only one." And he was quite the handful, but it seemed lately he was maturing. Taking a long drink from his margarita, Sigmund promised himself he'd go slow. It took his body quite a bit to get even buzzed, and he wasn't going to waste Brennan's money on more drinks.

BRENNAN: Brennan nodded, taking a long sip of his own drink before glancing over at Sigmund's. "Come on, stop babysitting that drink," he teased. "I'm totally buying another round after this." He made the ice clink in the glass again and then reached for another chip. "Are you guys alike or really different?"

SIGMUND: Sigmund laughed. "I thought you said you weren't a drunken frat boy. How quickly that fades in the face of a good tequila." Two drinks wasn't exactly binge drinking, of course. He took a bigger drink, threatening to chug the large cup, at the risk of a brain freeze. "We're pretty different, I think. But people have told me we're more alike than I'll admit. You're an only child?"

BRENNAN: "I'm not a drunken frat boy," Brennan laughed. "I haven't had a drink in like three weeks," he said, smiling at Sigmund. "Yeah, an only child," he added. "I mean...actually," he cleared his throat, wondering why the rest of this was about to come out of his mouth in front of someone he dind't know. "I had a twin sister...but she passed away during childbirth," he cleared his throat, glancing down at his drink. He didn't want to bring the mood down or anything but he felt compelled to answer Sigmund's question honestly.

SIGMUND: The honesty was sweet, though the actual bit of information was surprising and sad. "Oh, I see." His voice went soft with interest and concern. Sigmund thought about Nixon, who had a twin no one had told him about, living with a different pack. A hint of guilt crossed his face, but passed quickly.

BRENNAN: "But yeah...so, just me," Brennan said, signaling for the waiter to come over and take their order for more drinks. He ordered another one same as the first and smiled at Sigmund, waiting for him to place his order.

SIGMUND: "Banana margarita, please." He picked the wussiest of fruits, but seemed to take mild delight in it. "Are you sure you have the money to waste on me? I hate to get drinks off a starving college student. I'm probably cutting into your Ramen budget."

BRENNAN: "Oh it's cool," Brennan smiled, not really wanting to let Sigmund know that he probably should be saving his money. He owed this man more than two drinks after all for helping him get this new job. "So...what do you usually do after work?" He asked. "Do you have any hobbies or do you normally just hang around college campuses when you're not working?"

SIGMUND: How did one describe their hobbies when a great portion of them included running in the woods, taking down deer, barking, howling, and the like? "I do high school career fairs too." He noted. "I have kind of a big extended family, so I spend a lot of time with them. I cook." He laughed.

BRENNAN: "You have a big family?" Brennan's eyes lit up a little. He hadn't seen any extended family in years and had been used to living on his own for ages now. "You're close to all of them?" He took his new drink from the waiter as he approached and swirled it around a little.

SIGMUND: He nodded. "It's certainly big. Sort of a mix of family and adopted family, you know how some people just collect others? I guess I kind of do that." It was the best way he could explain the pack to outsiders. Noticing the lighing up, Sigmund felt relieved for some reason. "We're close. It gets kind of crazy sometimes, of course."

BRENNAN: "You collect people?" Brennan smiled, wondering how one went about getting collected. "Like people who don't have their own families or what?" He asked, taking another long drink from his margarita before looking over at Sigmund. He never would have just randomly guessed that he'd be a family sort of man.

SIGMUND: "Yeah, like you invite someone over for thanksgiving and suddenly they've moved in, you know?" He didn't talk as if it annoyed him, quite the opposite. "People taking care of each other because I think that's just how we're built. We belong in groups."

BRENNAN: "Oh, you think so?" Brennan smiled, trying to recall the last time he'd just sat around talking with a guy. "Well I'm pretty used to living on my own. Lots of takeout. Lots of paper plates," he smiled, randomly reaching for Sigmund's drink to steal a sip to see what it tasted like. "Hmm...fruity," he commented.

SIGMUND: Sigmund made a suspicious face at the word 'fruity.' But he grinned at it anyway, even if there was a slightly mocking connotation there. "I'd go crazy on my own. Though sometimes I think it would be incredibly nice." After a few seconds, he chanced an invitation. "You should come over sometime, meet some of them, and I'll cook for you."

BRENNAN: "Oh you will, will you?" Brennan positively grinned at that, unable to keep the smile from his face. "And what are you going to cook, Chef Sigmund?" He asked. "And if you ever really need to be alone, you can come hang out at my place," he offered. "It's pretty quiet there all the time," he paused, realizing what he'd say. "Not that...you'd be alone I guess, if I was there," he laughed.

SIGMUND: This was starting to get very comfortable, very familiar, and Sigmund was enjoying himself immensely. "What's your favorite food? That's what I'll cook. Sandwiches and soda?" Because at this point, that was all he'd seen Brennan eat. When the other mentioned coming over to his house, he felt a flutter in his stomach, paired with some worry. "You really want to hang out with an old guy?"

BRENNAN: "Hey I don't practice age discrimination," Brennan grinned. "Or are you worried you won't be able to keep up with me?" He teased a little since it had been Sigmund who used the term 'old guy.' "And no, my favorite food is not sandwiches and soda," he laughed, taking another drink. "They just happen to be cheap. I love Italian food. Pasta, lasagna, bruschetta, all of the above. It's my favorite."

SIGMUND: "Trust me, I can keep up." That was loaded, but it was profoundly true. With Sigmund's physical capabilities, he was healthier than any human could dream. Finishing off his second drink, Sigmund wasn't even feeling it, but he liked the way the alcohol lingered against his tongue. "Italian? All right. We'll have an Italian feast."

BRENNAN: "Do you play video games?" Brennan asked. That was mostly what he did when he wasn't working or in class or doing homework. He only had a ps, nothing very fancy, but he enjoyed playing as much as he could. He finished off his drink as well but unlike Sigmund, Brennan was a little bit buzzed. "Italian sounds gooood," he grinned, grabbing another chip since it was the only option available.

SIGMUND: At the mention of video games, Sigmund's face went blank, then twisted into a pained expression. "You would pick something like video games. I'm terrible at them; you'll put me to shame."

BRENNAN: "They're not hard. You just need to practice," Brennan smiled. "I'll teach you." He slid his card across the table to the waiter when he came back with the tab and then glanced over at Sigmund again. "Or I could try to come up with a more sophisticated form of entertainment?"

SIGMUND: "No, anything you want is fine." And his voice held a devoted tone, as if Sigmund would do just about anything to make Brennan happy. "I'll just say that I let you win. And my ego will be spared." It was clear Sigmund didn't have a big ego, so he was obviously joking.

BRENNAN: "Okay," Brennan laughed. "Whatever makes you sleep easier at night," he teased, pushing his bangs out of his face. "I guess we should probably go, huh? I bet it's just about past your bedtime."

SIGMUND: "Did you drive to work?" The thought just occured to him. Part of him kind of wanted to think that he'd have to drive Brennan home, but the other part of him worried where exactly he thought he was going with that line of imagination.

BRENNAN: "No..." Brennan admitted. "I've been trying to save on gas. I took the bus." He picked up his empty glass and sucked a piece of ice into his mouth, moving it around with his tongue.

SIGMUND: Glancing at his watch, Sigmund didn't know the bus schedules, having not much need for them. "Do they run this late?" He wondered out loud, watching that cube of ice and hearing the pleasant click of it against Brennan's teeth.

BRENNAN: Brennan reached into his pocket for his phone and flipped it open. It was . "Oh shit," he sighed. "The last bus runs at midnight." He hadn't exactly expected to stay out on this side of town after work.

SIGMUND: "S'alright," he waved his hand dismissively. "I'll just drop you off." Standing up, he was ready to go, the bill having been squared away and the drinks finished. He didn't mind, that was for sure, any excuse to spend just a little more time with him.

BRENNAN: "Are you...are you sure?" Brennan asked, sliding out of the booth. "I don't want to make you go out of your way, man," he said, sticking his wallet and phone back into his pockets.

SIGMUND: "I'm not going to make you pay for my drinks and a cab. It's no trouble, honest." Money problems were the last thing on Sigmund's mind, so he wasn't concerned about it being out of the way.

BRENNAN: Brennan hadn't even thought of a cab. He was planning on walking all the way back home. "If you're sure then," he smiled. "Thank you, Sigmund," he said, following the older man out to his vehicle.

SIGMUND: The parking lot of the newspaper office was completely empty by then, except for Sigmund's truck, so it was pretty easy to find. Unlocking the doors and sliding in, he started the engine to blasting AC/DC. Shutting it down with a start, he looked over at Brennan sheepishly. "At least it wasn't the Madonna disc."

BRENNAN: Brennan just had to laugh at that and wondered if Sigmund was kidding about the Madonna disc. "Don't tell me you're actually still listening to cd's," he gasped in mock horror, covering his mouth with a hand after he got buckled. "There are these things called iPods, Sigmund..."

SIGMUND: He pointed at the slot in the stereo. "But the truck has a cd player." He was certain that meant he was supposed to use it, especially since his music was collected on cds. Pulling out of the parking lot, he realized he didn't know where Brennan lived, but knew enough to turn in the direction of the college. "Address? Directions?"

BRENNAN: "Oh...yeah," Brennan smiled sheepishly. "I live in The Village apartments on Main," he told him. "By the bowling alley." He sat back in his seat with a satisfied sigh and looked around at the scenery as they drove. He was so glad he didn't have to make the walk.

SIGMUND: Since Sigmund knew where that was, he didn't ask any other questions about it. As they drove, Sigmund cracked a window, feeling warm. His body temperature was higher than a human's and so just his presence tended to heat places up.

BRENNAN: "So do you live around here somewhere?" Brennan asked, looking over at Sigmund then. "I'm not making you drive way out of your way am I?"

SIGMUND: Sigmund shook his head. "Everything's out of the way compared to where I live, so don't worry about it." The pack house had existed for longer than Sigmund could even remember, and that's where they'd always lived so even if it was a little inconvenient, he'd never thought of moving closer to the city.

BRENNAN: "Oh yeah?" Brennan smiled, looking over at Sigmund again. "Do you live outside the city? I never would have pegged you for a mountain man," he teased a little. "You'd need a shaggy beard." He fiddled with his phone in his pocket, enjoying the ride. It sure beat the bus.

SIGMUND: He kept his eyes on the road, but every other sense he had was focused on Brennan. Even his skin was tuned to the other person in the truck, feeling whatever energy the other was putting off. "Yeah, pretty far out. But we have cable and internet." As if that automatically made it civilized rather than some wild cabin.

BRENNAN: "Well I guess that's all you really need to live, huh?" Brennan teased. He paused for a second, wondering if he should ask the question that was on his mind. He wasn't sure but he was also slightly buzzed which helped his confidence levels. "Who is we?" He asked, since Sigmund hadn't mentioned a girl or boyfriend earlier.

SIGMUND: "My brother, some family. Pretty much anyone who needs a place to stay. It's a big place." That was the best way he could explain his living arrangements. He considered the house to belong to everyone who lived in it, but to explain that to an outsider was close to impossible without letting go the whole story. When he pulled up to Brennan's place, he parked the truck and sat back.

BRENNAN: Brennan just nodded, accepting the story because he didn't have any reason to question it. When they pulled up to the apartment, he unbuckled and looked over at Sigmund. "You uh, wanna come up for a few?" He asked, figuring it was the nice thing to say. Not that he would have minded Sigmund coming up, he just didn't expect him to.

SIGMUND: He really hadn't expected that invitation and he blinked a few times. It was hard to make Sigmund look uncomfortable, but Brennan had managed. Something told him the guy was going to manage more than a few times in the future. "It's kind of late. But we should do this again sometime."

BRENNAN: "Okay cool," Brennan shrugged. "And I'll clean up my place before inviting you up next time," he grinned. "See you at work." And with that, he hopped out of the car and headed for the stairs, shortly disappearing into his second floor apartment.