"Where do you want to put 'em?" Ford hefted one of the big boxes from the back of Colt's jeep and turned for the house. Molly pranced back and forth at their feet, stopping now and then to nose Colt's jeans and drink in giant wiffles of bear-elf stink.

In the light of day, the multi-colored lights wrapped around the porch railing of Colt's cabin were dim reminders of the holiday just passed. They would be taken off tomorrow but it wasn't New Years without lights, fireworks, and booze. The lights were in place. Most of the booze was already piled up in the mudroom. Now they just had to move the heavy boxes of fireworks into the house.

Dylan would ask if they hadn't over spent on fireworks. They would tell her that there was no such thing.

"Molly, I'm going to step on a paw by accident if you don't stay out of the way." Colt warned gruffily as he tried to avoid those paws while maneuvering with his own box up the porch steps. "I'm thinkin' the hall closet. The mudroom next to all the alcohol might be a bad idea."

"Good plan. I'm thinkin' Ten wouldn't be too happy with you if you blew th' place up ahead of schedule." Ford maneuvered around the dog to follow him up to the porch. It snowed again the night before, a light dusting over the frozen crust left the previous day. His breath clouded and mingled with the fog that lingered now.

"I'm completely responsible with fireworks." He'd repeated the line so many times over the years that it no longer held any weight. It merely came off half-hearted and rehearsed.

The box was balanced on a hip as he struggled with the screen door and the front door. Once both were ajar, he crossed over the threshold, holding the screen door in place long enough so that Ford could catch it with his shoulder and it didn't reverberate back into his brother's face.

"Sure. An' strappin' bottle rockets to Chey's skates so she can write our names in letters of fire is perfectly safe. I can't really see a downside to it at all, once we've had a few drinks."

"We should get a camcorder and preserve it for posterity!"

"Hell with posterity," Colt grumbled under the weight of the box in his hands. Molly hopped up onto the couch to watch their efforts with her head resting on the back of the couch, sporting a wide doggy grin. Freeing up a hand, Colt twisted the knob leading into the hall closet and found a spare couple of feet to set the box down in. "We need to record it so we can go back and see what we did 'cause I plan on gettin' to drunk to remember."



((blahblahblahfromplaywithFordblahblahblah))

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Clockwise starting on top left - boiled peanuts, Great Uncle D's homemade hooch, blt wraps, Great Uncle D's homemade fruit brandy, venison stew, nachos, cornbread, sausage rolls

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Summer is there, she'd arrive a little late after stopping at another shindig first.

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"Thanks for stoppin' in. Give me a call later in the week." Colt called to the Sharks outside linebacker and his wife as the couple?s sedan pulled down the drive headed to the next party in their New Years Eve circuit.

A solid beat pumped from the speakers set up on the porch but between the noise of his friends and family and his distance from the speakers, Colt was unsure exactly what song it was from the playlist that Chey had put together. The glow of firepits dotted the clearing surrounding the cabin as darkness had fully entrenched itself on the city several hours before. As he approached, his eyes were drawn to the outline of two brunettes dancing around a firepit with their profiles lit by the glow. Tossing her brunette waves back with a laugh that he couldn't hear, Colt watched with a slight grin as Dylan gave Ten a twirl.

He slowed to a halt beside a bulky figure who had also been watching the scene unfold. He didn't need to glance the man's way to confirm his identity. He knew him by scent alone. "Pretty girls, aren't they?"

Travis saw Colt heading his way and had been watching most of the night. Knowing that they were going to have a conversation, but not knowing when or even if his party was the proper place. He nodded at the man's question, watching the girls having fun and doing whatever it is that girls do when guys are watching. "We've got the prettiest of the lot. Lucky they chose us, even." He offered a hand, "Great job with the party."

Colt transitioned his beer from his right hand to his left so that he could outstretch the other for a firm shake. "It's nice to have everybody here. Was hard being without them this Christmas. Speaking of Christmas, how did that go? Meetin' my aunt and uncle and all?"

"Your uncle..." He smirked at that, then gave his best Grady Daniels Scowl. "This is how he looked at me most of the holiday.? Travis had to smile, just thinking about how Dylan?s father was the same way that he would be, if he was ever a father of his own little girls.

"Your aunt however, I see where Dylan gets her energy and manner." He chuckled. "Apparently I am too skinny, as she was trying to get me to eat something every time I saw her."

Colt's laugh was warm and easy as it had been all night. It had to be the infectious atmosphere or the alcohol because his life certainly hadn't gotten any less stressful in recent days. "Sounds like them. Good to hear you got a well rounded look at their personalities."

His eyes moved from Dylan and Ten, over to the man beside him again, looking him over. "How are you feeling, Chunk, better I hope?" Last time he'd seen him other than a couple of run ins at the Inn he had been sick, and also leery of what Travis let slip.

The fingers of Colt's free hand were tucked into the pocket of his coat and he allowed a moment of quiet to lift his beer for a swallow. Eventually, though, when his moment to stall the inevitable question had passed, he gave a somber nod and let his eyes move from the pair of women he adored to Travis. "Yeah, I am. Been medically cleared. Dyl doesn't know this yet but I have an offer to attend spring workouts with a NFL team back home. Everyone is pretty positive about my chances of makin? the team"

He nodded as he listened. "She won't be happy if you are gone." He lifted his beer to his lips, the second of the night. "You are one of her solid foundations around here. I understand, NFL team that's a once in a lifetime shot."

"So what are you exactly?" The question came within the flow of the conversation. It wasn't a subject change. It was an extension of the subject. If Colt was to leave, someone would need to step in. Dylan was powerful. Maybe too powerful for her own good. She needed support. Colt would not consider leaving her without that support.

"I know you know I am more than a simple Brit, yeah?" He laughed. It was a short, nervous laugh. "Long story short, I was sold from my family, at the age of twelve. Mother was a psychic sort, telepath mainly, Father a warlock. They wanted me to be like them, but a friend got sick, came to my window in a storm. I took her in, and to repay me, she bit me. She was a few years older, and a werewolf." He paused and drained the beer. "They sold me after my first change into the wolf, and until almost four years ago, I was a cage style fighter against guys like us." He motioned between the two of them. ?I believe your Uncle described what I am, when he saw a strange little mutt while we were fishing. I asked the breed, and he said Heinz Fifty-seven.? Travis cleared his throat in an attempt to sound like Colt?s uncle as well as get the scowl right. "Some'a every kinda mutt around the county in that fleabag." His southern impression sucked.

"I don't change," Colt spoke low but unhesitatingly as his eyes slipped back towards the women dancing within the warm, protective circle of fire light. "I have some canine-like... tendencies and quirks. But I'm human. Completely human."

Travis grinned then. "Well, some I fought did not change either... and canines can be ferocious in protecting their family, their pack. I am not your average werewolf," since they were sharing honesty. "Silver has different effects on me. If it's used in hatred say in a weapon, it can rip me apart. If something of love, less than a jolt from a battery. Enough will kill me, but mostly it shuts me down, while my body repairs and rejects it. I don't change with the moon, I don't know why... the lunar cycles do nothing to me." He added. ?I feel bad that we didn?t tell you sooner, and that you and I haven?t had a chance until now to talk. I just want you to know Colt, your friendship is important to me. I knew there was something about you, I felt a kindred spirit." He chuckled, as he reached for another beer from the cooler. "I'd do anything it takes to protect you, your family, and especially Dylan."

Especially Dylan. Especially Dylan. That's what Colt had wanted to hear, that's what he wanted to believe. The easing of the weight on his shoulders suggested he had believed. There was a slow nod as he sunk quietly into the peaceful calm on the outskirts of the party. Then with a sudden grin, he reached out to thunk a hand solidly against Travis' shoulderblade. "C'mon. Let's see if we can get Ford to do that duck face swag pose that Dyl taught him. I still haven't been able to get a photo of it."

"Chunk?" He looked at him, trying not to laugh about Ford and his facebook posing.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for making the bet with her, and for being a friend to me. One night, before you go, maybe you can help clarify what sort of girl she really is. I know she's borrowed from me a bit, unintentionally of course.? He pushed a hand through his hair, to tuck it back under his silver party hat. ?Just don't want her taking on my personality any more than she had that night.? He laughed with that private memory. ?Also, if you do move away, stay in touch, yeah?" He started to walk with his friend, back toward the laughing and dancing women.

Colt?s hand fell away but his smile lingered. There was a nod and a solemn vow. "Without a doubt. Without a doubt."


((Thanks to Colt's Player for the above scene and hard work! You rock!!))