"Damn it!" The yell cut the night around the Macintosh camp. It was Cole.

At the end of the enormous RV was a shining light. It seemed impossibly bright, flooding out the details of the figures that were there. Most of them were Mac's boys who always had that lean and hungry look. There were a few females amid them, all of which looked like they came from abusive foster-care parents and weren't afraid to throw a punch. People trying to claw their way to the top of the barrel.

A few of them wore hates, but it was Mac's shadow wearing the fedora that made him easy to identify. He wasn't the tallest, but he was hard to see being that he was in the innermost circle that was flooded by the RV light.

Something had gone wrong and everyone was on pins and needles because of it. Mac turned and called, "Get that little fuck Ian over here." Upon getting closer it was clear that Mac's hand that was down by his side had his 45 in it.

That little fuck Ian was feeling like death warmed over. The heavy rains followed by the erratic weather patterns had him just on the verge of sick--without actually tumbling over into full blown illness-- for over a week. He had literally just gotten back to the camp site, having borrowed the boss' car (as he did with increasing tendency these days) to do some laundry and get some soup. The teen had just turned the engine off, was in the process of climbing out of that red subaru with the keys in one hand when one of the pack came jogging up to him.

"Boss is looking for you, kid," the voice was gruff, a sound like crunching gravel. The man's smile was a gleeful one, full of malice. Ian was a newcomer to the Mac clan, and the way he'd risen through the ranks all the way to the bossman's side had not gone unnoticed. It wasn't just Cole -- the scruffy, scrappy teen was used to getting dirty looks from most everybody these days. "He sounds pissed."

A shrug lifted Ian's shoulders, his expression neutral as he patted his pockets down for his cigarettes. Leaving the laundry in the car, he nodded, following this dude -- Jack or Jeff or somebody, he couldn't quite remember -- over to Mac.

There was someone in the center of their circle. A man was tied to a chair and at first, he was impossible to recognize. That was because of the blood. It was more blood than usually present, more than had even been between Cole and Ian. More than Ian had ever seen at any of the disagreements at camp. Upon closer inspection it was clear that *something* had happened.

Ian was not of Mac's original camp, and he'd seemed to know a thing or two about werewolves and monsters. Despite his age, Mac had come to treat him as the 'go to' for the 'what-the-fucks' of Rhy'Din. They had a situation.

Johnny had been out drinking with Cole and two of the other boys at the Salty Dog when they stumbled home. Halfway there, well, something happened to them. It was fast and unclear and they still didn't know what to make of it, but it bit clear into Jimmy's neck. It latched onto him like a bulldog and then, before any of them could get over being startled and cock their guns right for firing, it had gone. Now Johnny had a torn up neck and was gnashing his now-pointed teeth irrationally at all of them from the chair he was tied to.

"What the fuck... is wrong with Johnny?" Mac was irritated, his thumb kept fidgeting by turning the safety of his gun on and off. Ian was supposed to know this. He better know this and he also better know--, "I need him to get better... now."

Ian made a face. He walked a careful line even with Mac -- acknowledging the balance of power without exactly bowing to it. He didn't recant or back down, but neither did he snap off some eviscerating insult like he would anybody else.

He knew about that kind of family. "I meant a mom or a little sister or something," he said quietly, clarifying between his teeth. There was family, and then there was moms and siblings and kids. That kind of family. At the acknowledgment that Johnny was his cousin, the teenager nodded, taking half a step back with a tilt of his head. "Can I talk to you a minute?" Maybe... not... at the center of a crowd? Those gray green eyes were asking for privacy.

Mac's face tightened like he might say no. Instead, he took one more look around them and called, "Everyone keep calm and don't lose your heads over anything." With that, the gun was on safety, tucked behind his back but still prominent. They could all still see it over the long sleeve shirt that was tucked in with the gun when he shoved it back there and under his belt. His mouth held the cigarette while he adjusted and then he followed Ian off.

They moved away from the painful glare of white light, from the visceral look of Johnny tied to the chair. The light that hit on everything was that stark, bright one from the security light at the back of the RV. There was a slice of it, going over the side of his face and down his chest. It wasn't on Ian so much, but that was because his back was to it more than Mac's. It kept him squinting at Ian, which he probably would have done anyway.

His eyes were saying it before his lips did, "What do you need to say, kid?" It was the first time he ever addressed Ian in any way that hinted towards kindness. It was mostly in tone. He kinda barked everything all the time, but when he said 'kid' there was a certain give in his voice. It'd been there, just for a second.

Following the leader away from the assembled crowd, Ian threw an assessing look at Johnny, then pulled out his phone to check the time. "How long ago was the attack?" This was called to Cole as they moved away, out of immediate hearing range, though he lingered long enough to hear the response. He checked that response against his phone with a nod before joining Mac on the outskirts.

"I don't know, an hour?" That was Cole's voice, but there was now a small rumble of conversation in the group. It had the same feeling of kids whispering back and forth in a classroom when they saw that the teacher was occupied talking to one of the other teachers.

His position was a deliberate one. He wanted his back to the crowd, his face out of the light. He wanted to make sure no one but Mac could see the way his mouth moved, could hazard a guess at what he was saying. He didn't really want the boss where his expression would be clearly visible, either, not for what he was about to say.

Ian took a final drag off his cigarette, flicking it away from himself and Mac in such a way that the cherry popped free on its descent. Exhaling slowly, his fingers plucked at the ring speared through the right side of his lower lip, only recently reattached now that most of the infighting had been settled. Momentarily brought up short by the way Mac addressed him, the kid swallowed once. "...He's been bitten, Mac. There ain't no saving him. We either turn him loose, or ...you hand me that gun and walk away." Swallowing again, he's still pulling reflexively at his lip ring. "Y'got... maybe a couple more hours to decide. By then he'll be strong enough to break that chair." His tone could not have been more clear. Letting Johnny go was A Bad Idea.

Mac's cigarette was close to its filter, but he hadn't pitched it aside, yet. He just let the column of ash grow long until it broke by the slightest moment of his hand. Ian told him what he had to say and he absorbed it for a minute, his eyes looking past Ian and into some other place. The give-away that he was upset was in the ripple of his jaw followed by the jerk of his hand as he pitched the remaining bit of his cigarette off in the same direction Ian had.

"You?" He said it with acid, stepping up to Ian, almost to where their chests would have touched. He was angry. Angry before Ian had even 'offered' to do him a favor. His voice had gravel, glass and blood in it when he spoke, "You're going to explain whatever this shit is later tonight. That's what you do. I'll gut you if you ever think I'm going to let you put down anybody, especially my cousin." Mac broke from him, calling over his shoulder, "He's my goddamn family."

And rabid dogs get put down too. Once he breached the circle watching Johnny he reached back, pulling out his gun and flicking the safety off. Some said he paused just before he pulled the trigger. Others said it happened in seconds. There had been a pause. Mac put the gun to Johnny's head and waited for some sign that he was still in there. If Johnny was in there, he'd been too far gone, too in deep, to see. Two shots to the head. Everyone was still after the ear-ripping noise. Johnny's head slumped over, cavernous and gaping wide and red at the back. Mac's body seemed to stiffen and then he was shouting orders about getting shit taken care of. That people needed to be goddamn careful and that Johnny was teaching them all that tonight. That he died so that they all could learn a hard lesson.

"And tonight we're gonna get torn up, properly, for Johnny. So put on your best fucking shirts." Dave was going to have to be there somehow. He had to step away from the Barlows and be there for Johnny.

The anger wasn't for him. Ian knew it; he'd known before he'd made the offer what its answer would be. It was the kind of offer that needed to be made, though-- he'd have caught shit for being a coward had he just suggested that Mac do it himself. The politics of the camp's hierarchy were breathtaking, would have made even a Borgia blush.

The teenager nodded, conceding with a quiet "You got it, boss."

He followed Mac back to center, standing just behind and to the left of him when the shots were fired. He knew the hesitation for what it was, but later, he'd be the one to personally spread the rumor that the whole thing was over in a second, that Mac had never so much as flinched or batted a lash.

"Oh, I'm Mac." And if she had wondered about her little guide, and just WHO he was. Well, no more mystery. That was Mac. The Mac. As in leader of the whole damn MacIntosh crew. He got out of his red SUbaru and shouted to the gathering. Gah, what a gathering. Mark had a camp 30-40 strong INCLUDING the kids. This one had atleast 30 adults milling about with drinks and laughing. "Party is here, folks!" Mac laughed hard and rolled into the group. In his camp there was no familiar bonfire to draw people to one spot but a grouping of picnic tables that had food and different framed pictures of Johnny on the table.

Ian only hadn't gone with the bossman because he was in charge of getting everything set up and running. He'd put some people on figuring out how to build a bonfire, others on setting out the food and drink and moving the picnic tables together. Still others had been gangpressed into playing bartender, at least to begin with, and somebody else was in charge of making the music happen. The party was just getting started - though the bonfire, so far, was a dud --- when a familiar subaru pulled up.

Mac had returned, and.. who's that with him? Shading his hand against the streetlights, he squinted gravel green eyes against the glare to spy it out. A crooked grin painted his face then. "Lookit... Mac brought a townie girl."

Of course you're Mac... Why wouldn't you be Mac? That would just be convenient if you weren't! Cried Keirra's sarcastic little brain. "I was wondering if you'd ever introduce yourself," keeping it civil in the open, but it seemed like her entire temperment had changed. Relax, Koko Puff... He has no clue who you are. Then her eyes shifted to Ian as he spoke up, she crinkled her nose. "Townie girl?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mac looked at Keirra sidelong and off his shoulder before he grinned at the sight of Ian. His hand flew up in the air, palm open to receive his. His eyes were fixed on him and he smiled, "Need to have some more fun girls here for it to be a proper party, right?" Their hands closed together and he pulled him in, clapping him on the back with his other. Then he nodded to her, "This is the Princess Anita and she needs a proper drink. Jimmy is getting the bourbon out of the back of the car. Whose got the shot glasses? We need to get this set up for midnight to see him off."

The teenager raised his hand in kind, letting them collide with an easy grin as he was tugged closer. He draped that arm around the boss in kind for just a moment. also clapping him on the back but a hair lower on account of the angle. "...You're so right. I got nearly everything set up. Jeff's playin' bartender," he pointed, "....Jen's on DJ," pointing over there, "And some of the girls is makin' food." His grin's a lazy one as he studies Princess Anita. "Pink hair. Cute."

The rogue wanted to keep her wits about her, "Make it a double," to Mac, a dangerous little look in her eyes--hey! She was only asking for a double, not the whole bottle. Eyes shifted to Ian, and she swayed lazily to the music. She studied Mac, and the way he interacted with the others. Taking out her phone, she played around on the screen. "Just seeing if there's anyone who can come..." she winked at the boys, and then clicked a button to have her phone start recording.

"Jeff is going to make some sewer water. I thought you were looking AFTER things?" Mac grinned. Jeff wasn't that bad. Mostly. Okay. Maybe he was. Anyhow. He turned when Ian pointed out the pink haired girl and he chuckled, "Might be out of your league. She looks like she throws a curve ball." One clap to his shoulder before he was on his cellphone again, at the table where his hand dug into the sour cream and onion chips. Yes. Ko had sat front seat with the leader of the MacIntoshes. For better or worse, a subtle exit, if any, was necessary.

Ian rolled his eyes good naturedly at Mac. "You'd a' said that no matter who I picked," he muttered, leaning in fractionally, his voice pitched low. As Mac moved away, the kid rolled his gaze back to Anita, rubbing absently at the edge of his jaw. His eyes travelling slowly over her form, he plucks at the titanium ring in his lip, studying her. "Not a townie, then?" Challenged Ian, as he offered a hand out to her. "Let's get you that drink."

Those eyes shifted between Mac and Ian, "I guess you could call me a townie, but it's not really polite.. What if I called you a trailer park boy?" ...says the girl who lives in a camper. The rogue smirked to Ian, "Yeah, let's." Definitely some fire to the little rogue.

For **** and giggles would be the reason that the red-head showed up but hey she was toting some bags worth of food to be delivered. A peace offering for crashing a party? Not when she was indirectly-directly invited by some passing invitee. Dressed for weather less fitting the nippy air and more of your summertime fling, Delphine was in cutoff shorts and a short sleeved flannel that was tied just at her left rib cage. The music called and told her she found the place so the first thing she did to announce her arrival was to hold the bags up. "Food is 'ere!"

Every camp had their thing. With Mark and the Barlows, it was family first. With Mac, it was blood first. One could argue that those were the same thing, just with drastically different interpretations. Half the crew had bruises or scars. Three had missing fingers. Mac looked rough and polished at the same time. There was no doubt he was the leader. If anyone hesitated about that he checked them proper. At the table with Johnny's photos and things he did his best to make some rearrangements. To him it had to be perfect. It's what he'd want. He eyed all of the items that were there, turning about when he heard the mention of food coming around. Why was it that everything seemed to be in a fog? He called, "No one does shots til midnight! The shots are for Johnny!"

Ian peered over his shoulder at the silent hulking shadows of what looked like miles and miles of RVs. Then he looked back at her. "...I would say that was accurate?" He chuffed a laugh, a smirk rolling lazily across his jaw. "After you, Princess Anita," he said, parroting Mac mostly because he'd seen the look in her eye when Mac had said it. He gestured towards the picnic table - **** bar to let her lead the way.

There was a visible wince when he called her that, "You're on thin ice, Smalls." No shots until midnight? This party was a bust! Keirra looked at Ian, "So what do y'all do around here? Just throw wild parties all the time?" she asked, gaze slipping back to Mac. "Looks like he runs things," she said moving forward.

"He does," agreed Ian with a ready nod. That bit about anyone who didn't acknowledge it gettin' checked proper was no joke. He'd seen it done, though he'd never come across the boss so far. There was a certain confidence to the teen that projected him well beyond his years, though there were markers that gave him away. The barest dusting of peach fuzz along his upper lip, catching the light at the edges of his jaw, for instance. The fact that he was lank and gangly -- tall and awkward, he had an unfinished look to him, like he wasn't quite baked. "Them two that was with him, that's Jimmy and Cole. It goes Mac first, then.... Sonny, " he looked around, eventually pointing out a man built like brick wall. "Then it gets a little fuzzy, but Jimmy, Cole an' one other are all kinna.. in there together." Patting down his pockets for his cigarettes as he shambled along, his steps paused a moment when he found them, allowing the pink haired girl to get ahead of him.

His eyes veered first for the hot redhead who'd brought food, there was a grin as he planted a cigarette between his teeth, and then for the ink decorating the back of Anita's neck. "Oi," he commented, catching up to her in a few quick steps as he hunted for his lighter. "...What's that on your neck?"

"Oh," Keirra's hand clapped over the back of her neck a moment, and then she smiled a beautiful smile. "My friend talked me into getting a tattoo, and I got a tarot card," purposefully mispronouncing the word. "..You know, like of death? It's so punk," she said, laughing away the nervousness. "Do you like it?" Biting her lip and batting her eyelashes.

"Hey, you in this, too?" Mac shouted at the person with the shorts and the fannel. Jeff was near trembling as he poured the shots and was aided by Jimmy. At first Jimmy seemed like he was that scared of Mac. He was. But he wasn't. He was sad. Jimmy and Johnny and been J&J and that was how it had been for eight years. The idea that he was shot and buried in some undisclosed location was still a strange adjustment.

Mac clapped Jimmy on the shoulder as he filled a tray of shot glasses with bourbon, "Sometimes... people don't make it." It was a small comfort, followed by, "Hand then out." At this point, Jimmy was handing out shot glasses of Johnny's favorite bourbon. Maybe it was ironic that it was called "Revival" but no one was going to say it aloud.

Somewhere there were tables and she'd dump the bags in question on said tables. A nice little spread of this and that was pulled out and placed down for anyone who had the munchies. It is a party of course someone was going to have the munchies!

Conversation directed to her caused the woman to pause a brief moment. There was a few things she wanted to say in defense of metahumans but this was not her turf. She would behave for now. Beer to lips she faked another swing of it. Just enough to let the beer graze over lips giving her that salty breath of beer mixed with the tea she had before. ?Depends on de day. yer nu 'oy so'tiz.? Signed in a way that showed her annoyance with life. ?Work. life. sleepin'. dohs sort av tin' git in de way av de rayle fun.? Tongue swept lips again gathering the few lingering drops. ?Dove.? As she said it she turned her back to him while pushing her top down on one shoulder to show the white mark there of a near bird.

The bourbon helped. Youthful cheeks were flushed from the drink, his steps rocking as they walked. Well, there was music, and he was a traveler. Maybe it was dancing? He walked Anita to his own RV, veering a little to the right where Mac had pointed left. Nevermind that he almost never spent any time in it anymore. "It's this way." He watched the roommate palm the girl's ass and maybe just maybe his smile got bigger. "Your roommate need a bathroom too?"

It was inward, the way she winced when he took her to the wrong camper. She smirked, "I wouldn't be surprised if she could just magick the pee right out of her taco, honestly. Sucks being normal," she noted, and then fished out a bottle from her bag. The eyedropper dispensed a few drops of strange liquid onto her tongue, and as she swallowed, it seemed almost instant that her pupils went back to being huge. "Can you wait here? I'm kinda a nervous pee-er."

The kid was shooting for a threesome in the restroom. Oh no, Delphi didn't look like a grinning cat as she drank.

"Excuse me," Someone was motioning for Mac to come over. At that point in the party he seemed to disappear into the crowd. Now and then to reappear, but never as available as e had been earlier that night. He was making sure everyone remembered that this was about Johnny. Sometimes he even checked his phone.

There were a handful of girls who weren't from camp there, and you could guarantee that sparked some interest. The pretty redhead, the punk pixie in pink, the cute blonde with the... whatever animal that was on her shoulder. Whether it was Cole or Jimmy or Sonny or some other of the thirty-some men milling about, one by one most all of 'em would take their chance at talking with the new girls. Ian, for his part, nodded her up into the camper and then took a lean just outside its door, fishing his phone out of his pocket about the same time that Mac took off in the opposite direction. Could be he was looking for the same person the boss was.

Dove was entertaining herself. A few people asked if they could pet her skunk. Amonst other things. Phone was out she actually sent a text to her room mate there asking for a certain something.

Oh she'd talk and happily drink so long as those fellas were pouring. A charming southern smile and a coo in her voice, you'd think she was trying to steal the bottle of bourbon or at least have it offered over.

Cole in particular seemed to have taken a shine to the redhead. He seemed ready to hand over one of those bottles, his dark eyes a little shellshocked. Could be he'd been there when Johnny was attacked. He'd even go so far as to sit down beside her, and if he got an opening, put an arm around her.

Keirra looked around the room, eyes shifting as she moved quietly and listened. The phone was looked at and she texted back. She shifted screens and began to snap photos of the entire room, quickly and quietly. There was one thing in particular that stood out.. A ton of books on werewolves. So, they definitely knew about Quinn.. Comforting. She snapped pictures, pulled out the books, snapped more pictures, and took in a nervous breath, putting it all back before heading to the bathroom and yanking off her jacket.

"Calm down, Ko," she whispered softly. "You can do this.. You were made to be a super spy. You have got this!" Mark would enjoy that little recording... After doing some business, she moved to leave, jacket off and phone in hand. "Sorry.. Never been inside one of these before," she smirked. "It's pretty cool. You live here?"

Dove had drawn a lot of gawking stares, these weren't fellas who were used to seeing people magically appear like that. In the end it was Jeff, a good looking guy with hazel eyes and a mop of messy blond hair who sidled up to her. He kept asking questions though it seemed he couldn't understand a word she'd said -- he smiled and nodded and asked another question. Could be he just liked the accent.

Long as their was no fighting. Hell she'd sit between the fellas and let them both sling an arm if they wanted. All was good! Though Johnny, for his worth, got a palm patting his thigh in a rather playful manner. Just before her cellphone went off. The look that gloomed over her face screamed a too fast sobering. "Fils de putain." Oh opps she probably shouldn't be talking about her boss like that! Subtle hips wiggled on the edge of the table as she fished her cell from her back pocket.

Phone was dropped back into his pocket as the girl reappeared. He had another shot ready for her and everything as he lifted away from the sidewall with an attempt at a casual nod that did precious little to cover the pride in his eyes. "Yup. That one's mine."

There was a bit of amusement in the text. For the most part, a man or two was trying to hit on her but Dove didn?t like many men. Typically she went for the more curvy, softer, type of people ? the ladies. Though conversation kept going for a while. Questions, answers, the whole nine yards. Even placed her hand on his shoulder as she laughed at something he said. Yep, use the accent and smile to one's advantage.

"That's actually pretty cool," she said with a nod, and looked around, mostly at Dove. She put a hand on his chest, "Must get...really lonely, though.. Having that all to yourself.. Maybe you could give me a tour sometime, and a taste in the very, very near future..." Gag me...

Jimmy said something colorful about Delphine's boss, trying to talk her out of answering that phone. Cole, for his part, got her another shot. Jeff finally abandoned his quest where Dove was concerned, though he was grinning ear to ear as he walked away, patting his own shoulder as though to confirm that she'd really touched him.

There's a sly kind of smile that snakes over Ian's mouth when Anita's hand lands on his chest, and he looks down at it once before he raises his gaze back to hers. With Mac gone and Dave AWOL, there's a subtle change in him, a dangerous quality to his eyes that hadn't been there. But his expression's a friendly one all the same. He steps forward, easing a hand gently over her shoulder. "You're a Barlow."

**** me sideways running on a moving train in France... "You're smarter than you look," she said, trying to mask the fear in her eyes. She moved backwards a step, putting a bit of distance in between them.

Ian's brows shifted, his smile growing, but he made no effort to chase her. "Relax. Your secret's safe with me." The for now was heavily implied.

Jimmy's words wouldn't sweet talk her from not answering because the boss paid and he paid really, really well. She gave Jimmy a flirty smile as she slid from her seat and took the drink from Cole. The shot was taken and Cole got himself a peck right smack on the cheek as the glass was handed back. Cole now was the proud wearer of a red lip-shaped print on that cheek. "Been fun, ya'll, but dis gal gotta get." Didn't get no names and really didn't meet anyone past a few minutes but that wasn't a surprise. Like the wind she came and she went, pretty as you please.

Hands moved to dial her phone, she waited, waited, until she was sure she didn't hear the ringing anymore. She either got voicemail, or an answer, but either way, the message would get across. "So... You just pretended you didn't know I was a Barlow? And let me waltz right into Mac's camp? What comes next?"

He got touched! Oh what a wonderful thing. There was a bit of flirting but more concern for the couple that had been in the trailer. Ian, Anitad, those two. Picking up a napkin from somewhere she wiped another one of those beer tops off then proceeded to pretend to drink it. The napkin was shoved into her pocket for safe keeping at a later time. Whine. ?Anita! oi want yer!? Hopefully it was yelled loud enough for her to hear to get her cute bottom back outside.

Jimmy looked positively crestfallen as Delphine stood up to leave, his hopes positively dashed. Cole, he was looking a good bit more dazed, and found himself the proud owner of a bright red lipstick print. It took him a minute to realize the girl had gone, and then his expression turned sour, like he was looking for the man what stole her and had a mind to do something about it. Jeff stumbled to the bar/table, and took up another handful of shots of bourbon, none of which he intended to share.

Ian shrugged, his eyes intent and alert, but his posture isn't particularly menacing. "Gettin' to know the other side is always advisable, don't you think?" He asked with a casual tilt of his head. "Wanted to see what you'd do."

Almost causally, "I'll be out in a second, Dove!" she yelled back and then turned her eyes back to Ian. She scoffed, because she had to be herself. "For the record, when I agreed to get into the car, I had no clue who you all were, I was just excited for a party. Imagine my surprise," she said and then shrugged. "So what gave me away?"

Saila had been nearby anyway. She tended to wander the streets at night, and truth be told she'd located the Mac RVs some time ago, though she hadn't yet approached. When her phone went off, the sparkly monstrosity jangling loudly to some garish artpunk song probably by Oingo Boingo, she didn't even have to look when she took off at a run. Saila wasn't there, and then she was. No magic circles here, just a preternatural speed that increased exponentially in the week leading up to the moon.

Slowing only a dozen feet before she rounded the corner onto the docks, the muse smoothed her hair back and resumed her walk across the party at a more natural, casual pace. Scoping out the crowd, it's all human but one, a bright white signature she recognizes with a sinking sensation in her chest. Oh, great. This'll be fun.

"Your objection to the word townie. That bull**** pronunciation of tarot. Your sudden shyness about not wantin' me to come inside. Who'd you call?" His head turned to look out the windows then, driven by some instinct or maybe just the muffled sound of Dove's voice. He caught sight of the girl with the purple hair, the one who'd been at the bar the night of their meeting with the head Barlow. He sneered, his gaze moving back to Anita. "...the fact that the wolf's sister just so happens to be making her way across my camp. Answers that question, anyway." He studied her a moment, a sudden smile lighting his young face. "...You're the lawyer's sister, aint'cha?"

There was nothing but calm from her they didn?t have to worry. In fact she had a clove cigirat out from the pack stuffed between her lips. Hand cupped over the end for the smoke allowing the light to flicker to catch it on fire. She was milling about off to the side some pretending to be a bit busy on her phone.

Dangerous blue eyes narrowed on Vlad and she looked pretty betrayed. They were supposed to be best friends, and now what? Now he was on their side? Wait... He was probably always on their side. The grenade was already in her hand, but she made no additional moves except to just sit and stare at Vlad. "Fucking dog..." The girl spat in Russian.

The atmosphere had gone thick and cloudy, suddenly. Dave -- she barely knew or recognized Dave, but Keirra's body language told her who he was -- had a gun drawn on the Rogue, the Rogue had her hand on... something... in her bag, the punk teenager had put himself between Dave and Mac and was gesturing Mac away from the crowd... and where the fuck had Ash gone? Saila found herself curiously not at the center of things, and that put her in a unique position. To do what, she wasn't sure yet, but it wasn't an advantage she would squander. Mismatched eyes slid to Keirra across the yard. Just hold steady, they seemed to say. Don't move yet.

Ian's chest felt tight, his breath sounded rushed and too-high in his ears, but he threw a final glare at Dave over his shoulder and followed Mac a short distance away from the others, out of the direct glare of all those heated gazes.

"Listen," he said softly, lifting eyes like grass on concrete to his boss, his tone was hushed, confident but with a note that was more or less begging to be heard. "That girl knew who we was the second she got here, and she stuck around anyway. I saw it as a golden opportunity to do a little investigating of my own. I wanted to see how she'd act, what she'd do. She coulda' called all the Barlows here at once for a showdown and didn't, you know? I wanted to know what her game was, so I kept it quiet and paid attention. If she'd done anything serious I'd have called you. But this is your cousin we're celebratin', man. I wasn't gonna interrupt your night until it was critical. I should have called him to warn him," Ian tipped his head in Dave's direction then, conceding the mistake, "...but I honestly didn't think he was coming. I'm sorry."

Scratching at his jaw, Ian swallowed reflexively. "...We don't know what that purple haired bitch is, Mac. She ain't a wolf. Who knows if drugs or guns or ...anything we got will even work on her. Who knows how fast she can have that goddamn werewolf here, and it's like... right on top of a full moon tonight. Everybody here is drunk. If we make a move now ..." He spread his hands, shaking his head, "...this whole place erupts in a bloodbath and half our guys end up dead because they don't know what's going on." Lips pursing, he took a step closer, tentatively putting a hand on Mac's shoulder. "Josh, please. Let's just... all step back a minute. The jig's up -- fine. Let the girls walk away. Dave comes home. Nothing about the plan changes."

David didn't speak Russian but he got the gist of what was what and he smiled to her sweetly. No stutter, no stammer, no glasses and no delay in speech as he retorted. "Oh look, the Barlow drunk finally has something figured out. Yes, I am from this..." Then a single word stuck out in his mind. A name, but enough to snap Dave's attention that way and his eyes narrowed. "The fuck did you just say?" He looked now to Mac and asked HIM now. "The Fuck did he just say?"

The rogue eyed him over and then rolled her own, "I mean, honestly? I kinda pegged you for a tool the day I met you--you just finally confirmed it..." said the Russian as she continued to stare him down. Eyes flicked to Saila for only a moment, and she gave a slow, subtle nod.

Mac was lead away from the others, but it was with hesitation. He didn't like this Barlow in his camp, especially after David just spotted her. It was difficult to look past her being here but... it was also Johnny's wake. Some part of him knew a bloodbath for the man's wake wouldn't do he didn't want it. Oh, he wanted the Barlow bloodbath, just not here, just not now. This was supposed to be about Johnny.

Pulled aside he listened to the kid, the whole time his right hand was pulled around his back, holding the handle of his gun. With Ian, Mac and David all in conversation, it was an ideal moment for anyone to just slip away without incident. "You didn't think he was coming?" Mac frowned and looked at Ian like he was stupid, "Johnny was a fallen brother, of course David was going to fucking come." It was a sin to miss the wake of a comrade and could only be excused in the most dire of situations. This had not been one of them, but it was close.

Purple hair. In this world it was more significant. That maybe she was weird or special and not some misguided youth who needed help figuring her way through things. It wasn't a very persuasive argument. Saila didn't look particularly special and Mac was mad. All of that was diverted, though, when David approached. His hand eased off the gun and he stepped up to David, making a barrier between him and Ian, "The kid is just jawing away about options." His hand pressed, fingers spread, over David's heart.

Pretty much the second Dave started towards Ian, Saila stood, separating herself from her position at the altar table as she stole quietly towards Keirra. "We may get a break here to get the fuck out of here," she said in a low voice. "Everyone here has a gun and most of 'em are shitfaced."

When Mac stepped between them, Ian let his hand fall from the other man's shoulder, his eyes on Dave when he responded. "...No," the teen repeated himself. "I didn't think he was coming. He hasn't answered my calls lately. He doesn't know what the girl is. We keep hearing about this so called army they're building but that's the same line he's been telling me for a week now. For all I knew he was just... cozyin' up to the Barlows and making himself at home." The kid shifted his gaze back to Mac then, his expression softening visibly. "He missed the toast, he missed the fire. You got mad at some text message you got and pretty much separated yourself from the crowd. It stood to reason he wasn't coming."

"We don't want a bloodbath yet," he said softly. "There are too many unknowns here, too many variables. Remember the marketplace?"

"I don't fucking answer to you! I answer to him. You think you're the fucking second, you ain't SHIT!" He said and nodded once to Ian before looking to Mac. He needed to put a leash on this puppy.

"You wanna know what she is? When she's "hungry" she cuddles up to the werewolf, when she's mad he ushers her away, and when they go out they get pretty fucked up. I don't know what the fuck she is, but I'll tell you what, he don't know what the hell she is either. Makes me think that she may not neither. Yeah, I missed the toast, and the fire, I was on fucking watch, looking out for you and your slack ass little group, for you to come around half beat to shit by cole, Oh or for you to fuck up the second in command snatch and release, you know, because you two don't stop bickerin like a bunch of fucking poofers long enough to get shit done square." Eyes on Mac now and he was pacing back and forth that 45 hanging loose in his hand. His other went to his hair and raked through before looking to Ian. "Tell me why I shouldn't pump you a magazine full and leave you here to bleed out. Because you ain't shit to me. And you don't know a damn thing about respect."

When Saila approached her eyes darted between Mac, Ian and Vlad, "Sheesh, I thought our group had a lot of fags..." she mumbled to Saila, feet moving over towards her. She hadn't made a noise as she walked, she held the grenade just in case they needed it. Swallowing hard, she drew her hood and nodded, "Let's get the fuck out of here before they try to sacrifice us to the fucking hillbilly god of fuckdom..." she mumbled softly, and attempted to grasp Saila's hand with her free one.

"I've not questioned you," Mac asserted with a clear, unflinching eye contact with David. He was so geared up that Mac gripped his shoulder and squeezed it to try to ease some of the tension. Looking over his shoulder, behind him, he advised Ian, "David wouldn't fucking miss Johnny's wake and I have plenty of reasons to step away. What he's been telling me is between us." Ian might have planted seeds in Mac's head that he would die before admitting to, but he wasn't going to look broken or swayed in front of the gang. No. David was solid. He was on a job and he'd been gone but he was one of them, no doubt about it.

He'd wanted to kiss him, the sort of kiss that said 'sit the fuck down' but he couldn't. He didn't. He just squeezed that shoulder and then looked at David, "Ian's a good kid... but he's a kid, you two can go knuckle to knuckle. But... this is Johnny's funeral. And what we should do," Mac's other free hand went o Ian's shoulder. He turned them both to face the gathering, "We should send some Barlows home with bruises."

Barlows? What Barlows? The minute Keirra took Saila's hand, she'd known the Rogue had the same thoughts she did. With a nod and a sudden pivot, the girls were GONE. With Keirra's stealth and Saila's speed, by the time the trio turned, their opponents were apparently elsewhere.

Ian knew he'd pressed exactly as far as he could, so he shut up. His mouth a hard line, his jaw twitching, he turned to face the crowd and... what the hell? Brows furrowed. "...The fuck did they go?"

Dave was calming, still amped up and revving way too fast, but he was no longer about to shoot anyone so at least there was that going for him. Eyes went to where Keirra was and then back to Ian. "Damnit! You just HAD to fuck her before telling anyone who she is? Before telling me! Shit...SHIT!" He shouted clicked the safety back on and jammed his gun down the back of his pants. "Fuck! My books, my journal...All my fucking notes are back there..." He threw his arms in the air and flopped into a chair head in his hands. "FUCK!"

Dave could suck the left most part of her tits for all she cared. She'd return those journals after writing in them, little love notes and pictures of dicks.

"What?" Mac looked at David and then sighed. Part of him wanted to tell Dave to run like hell. To beat the speed of tongue and get his things before the whole camp wised up. However... it just wasn't worth it. It was worthwhile, but not that much. Mac wasn't willing to press it, so he instead looked at Ian, "Go to the Barlow camp, now, and bring him back his shit or don't come back."

Ian had expected as much as soon as Dave raised the question, and he nodded. Three words, and only three words, came from his mouth. He would say no more, certainly not right now in front of all these people. "Sure thing, boss." A brow arched, and one hand was held up for the keys. He stood a better chance of beating them home if he could drive, yeah?

When Ian was sent on the errand, Dave allowed himself to feel the slightest bit of pride, watching Ian get knocked down a peg. But Dave needed to talk to Mac, find out why that kid was calling him Josh, no one called him Josh. HE called him Josh, behind closed doors, or in the back seat of cars, or in a truck stop bathroom... but random smart ass kids, they did NOT call him Josh. A deep breath was heaved and he looked up to Mac before grabbing a bottle of jack and holding it up for Johnny. He drank from it, and only THEN did he let the grief hit him.

Mac reached into his pocket and planted his keys into Ian's hand without even having to look at him. The kid had done well and they had been spending enough time together that they could do those sort of things. He could grab keys and thrust them down and Ian's hand would be there to catch them. Just as they were now.

It was true. People didn't call Mac "Josh." He hadn't noticed it, honestly, with all the tension. He should have, but he didn't. His attention was swept up in shooting a girl in the head, not in anything else. Besides, it seemed the Barlows had abandoned the scene at some point. He uttered a "Fuck," and then moved his hand towards David, palm open and asking for the bottle of booze.

Ian's hand was there. Like clockwork or a well oiled machine, the two worked together seamlessly ninety nine percent of the time. Fingers closing around the keys, he shot Dave a look that clearly said this isn't over, and then he strode quickly for the parking area and the subaru.

The rogue looked up at Saila and then decided to tell the story with some parts left out. "Well, I texted you the start of it... Went there... Had no clue who they were, figured it out... Decided to stay and snoop... One of them figured me out right away but we agreed to a kinda truce, because one of their men died and it was like his wake or somin'..." Keirra said and then swallowed hard... "But then Dave showed up... He's been on their side all along... Saila and I barely got out... if it wasn't for a fight that broke out," she shook her head. "I got stupid and careless." Clearly they were all beating themselves up.

"Yeah, I got your text," Mark gave Ko a look, but now was naht the time and it didn't seem like he needed to give her a reprimand when she already knew what was wrong. Then he ran one hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his head nervously befer he gripped tha wheel tightly again. Finally! The tires of the car skidded when he came tah such a sharp stop on the grace road which lead up tah der caravans from tha main road, "Well, least you two naht dead. But you knew dey was in town sah..." he didn't continue. They knew what dah rest o' that rant were.

To be fair, Saila really had only showed up because she'd recognized Keirra's energy signature among them? But she wasn't about to debate or argue that point, now. Her gaze remained on Mark even as she was throwing herself out of the car. "Quinn's in his trailer already." She said quietly. "Are we looking for anything in particular?"

"Anything that we can find useful..? I couldn't get into Mac's camper... I got into the kid?s, and there wasn't much there, except a bunch of werewolf research," she mumbled bitterly, throwing open the car door and climbing out. She stumbled towards the camper, growling beneath her breath. "I'm sure they'll be coming for this stuff... So we might wanna make it quick, and maybe get this thing outta here?" Joining Quinn inside.

Mark looked back the way dey had come. There were still a cloud of dust from where rocks had been kicked up and not yet settled. He sucked in a breath nervously and then went to his RV, returning with a small tool bag. If Dave had something tah hide it might be under lock and key. He followed Ko into Dave?s trailer.

Quinn was tossing the place, but he didn't know what to look for, so far he'd found a couple side arms, some drugs that were not weed, either. Tossing it into the sink of the trailer he ran the water over the opened baggies. Ha. Fucking asshole Dave take that! He looked to Ko and Saila as they came in. Pointing to the scribbled out books. They were in shorthand but to Quinn, he wondered if the kid was one of those freaking code writing weirdos. "Any of you read that shit?"

Saila had been standing outside, keeping an 'eye' out for visitors, but Quinn drew her attention and she turned inwards. "Hm?" Mismatched eyes glanced down over the notebooks. "I mean, no, obviously. But... I can?"

Lock and key? Keirra has yet to find a lock that she couldn't pick! She stepped in and looked around, eyes shifting around the mess. "Damn, Bee... Wait for the rest of us," she said, looking for something to smash.

"Pick them up and figure this out!" He said as if he needed to say things, sheesh Saila catch up yeah? Let?s all pause to think of Quinn doing this while wearing Dave's shorts because he didn't have his own jeans at the time.

Saila totally has Quinn's jeans, though! They're right there in her bag. Quinn can totally have them. She peers at him a long moment, trying to figure out what's weird about his appearance. "What the hell are you wearing, Big Bad?" Shaking her head, she reached for the journal with the funny code in it with a sigh. "Let's see what's in his head, shall we?" Her lip curled. "Oh man there's a lot of drugs here."

"Easy, Quinn." Mark said when he were in tha RV and seein' tha books that was scattered leftovers. He knew somethin' was missin' but he didn't say nothin' about it. Instead he looked at the journal of code and thought shit and then sighed, "Flush the drugs. I don't want camp passing that shit around and getting into trading and selling it. It's the sort of thing that ruins stuff. Let's take the books to my RV and look them over."

Saila had the journal in hand, and she hugged it to her chest with a distant nod. Her expression was a scowl. Apparently Dave's thoughts were... interesting. Almost mechanically, she followed him back out of the RV.

The rogue followed suit, right after Saila. She was like her hero's little shadow at this point..

Saila needed the shadow, fear not.

Oh, yeah he should flush them. Picking the baggies out of the sink between pinched fingers he carried them to the bathroom and dumped them in. Flushing them away, he washed his hands and grabbed a hold of more notebooks. Something WAS missing, and being a homosexual man, Quinn picked it up right away. The only female scents in the camper were Saila and Keirra's. He didn't say a word, but either the kid was lonely, or he wasn't into the V.

Mark paused, waiting for tha sound of the toilet befer he pushed on.

Everyone loaded into Mark's RV. Voodoo might have been in her room and, because of the sound of them, step out to join. It was that or she might have sensed tha energy was tight and jist stayed away. The kitchen/living room area was there just as one entered. His kitchen table was in a corner with an L-shaped bench seat. It could seat at most six, but the bench seat could only handle four with the sides of the table away from the wall had no chairs, or they were put up.

Mark reached between the fridge and counter, unfolding a plastic stool and setting it at the end of the table. One side of the bench seat sat two while perpendicular to it there was a seat for one. Mark waited for them to get settled, "Do we know anyone who can translate?"

Saila followed him inside, and as though she knew what he was waiting on already, she slid into the two-sided seat all the way to the interior. It would likely put Quinn on one side of her and Keirra on the other, with Mark opposite them.

His question threw her a little, silvery brows furrowing curiously. Oh, right. He didn't know. Gradually lowering the journal to the table, she ran a hand over its cover with a nod. "...Yeah. I've 'read' it," her voice was soft, and she swallowed. "He's been keeping notes on...everyone. Taneth. Some chick at the bar whose number you apparently got. Some other chick he... no, wait. That's Ali."

Licking her lips, Saila took a breath, letting it out slowly. "There's a lot of animosity here. A lot of derision. Apparently he thinks I'm vapid."

Quinn had made a stop to check on Levi and change his clothes. He was behind them shortly. Ducking as he got into Mark's camper and he leaned against the counter watching them and listening to Saila. A nod. "Why, though? Why would he do this, I thought we were all friends..." Quinn knew why, and it was making him angry but he didn't say anything. Power was a tricky thing. He didn't know what Dave had to gain from getting Mac into power, but he figured it was drugs, money, something of the likes.

"Apparently naht," Mark said, even though it were the obvious thing given dah situation. With a sigh he looked at the book and then raked a hand through his hair, flipping the spades of dark brown backward befer speaking, "He coulda been flipped or wus always one of them. Dun know but... tha writin' is on tha wall, as dey say."

"We weren't friends, they fuckin sent him here to gain our trust... I'm surprised he didn't start pickin' us off in our fuckin sleep... Weasel!" She hissed and then spun around, folding her arms and pouting heavily. "Fuck nugget... Gimme one of them books," she said, arms reaching out.

"Wasn't flipped," she said softly with a shake of her head. The thing about Saila's gift is that she didn't really need to be able to read the coded writing, not with their author's thoughts so... vehement focused when they'd been written. "He was one of them from the start. A plant." She said the word bitterly, a scowl on her face. "...And I fuckin' missed it, but he doesn't know about me. How the hell did he stay away?"

Her gaze slid to Keirra, and then Quinn. She nodded. "Don't eat? any? of the food, babe."

Once she actually put the book down, Saila pushed it away like it repulsed her.

Mark observed the two of them. He didn't feel like he could have understood or read the books, but they had a draw to them, one he couldn't deny. He looked at the book that repulsed Saila and he turned it towards him, opening it up to peer at the strange hand which had wrote it. Ko's instincts matched Saila's announcement.

Somehow, David had just slipped in. He was a gypsy, like them, so hadn't seemed very different from others which joined. An outsider would have been odd, asked wrong questions and been tossed on their ass. David had been a great gypsy spy, because he was a gypsy.

"Yeah, my trailer is, well probably being tossed right about now by the wolf and his weird sister." He rubbed at his brows and looked over to Mac, no one was paying too much attention so he was about to soften just a little bit. The way that it was said, he understood that this fucking blew and he if he didn't wanna talk that was fine, but if he did, he was right there. "God I hate that fucking guy, and the pink haired slut, she calls me Vlad, wouldn't call me Dave not once."

"Why the fuck would she call you Vlad?" Mac looked at him and connected, instantly with that sense of annoyance. Mac only stood to be called Mac, Josh, Boss or God. Everything else could get bent and his knuckles would say as much. There was a rumble of noise in the party as a few men started to sing "Oh Danny Boy" off key and with the best memory that drunks could have of what the lyrics were. With the tip of his index finger he pushed up the brim of his hat, looking at the congregation at Johnny's table as he spoke to David, "We could step inside my RV and you could tell me about the Barlows while it's fresh on your mind."

"Honestly, I think she's fuckin' touched. But it pissed me off, I wanted to slit he little throat every time I heard the name." There was a curt nod at his request. Picking up the bag of notebooks, slinging it over his shoulder as he stood, Dave headed to the RV. A knock on the door before he opened it. Lotta drinking meant people sometimes found random places to go about their making out and fucking. When no one said anything he slid into the camper and waited. The bag was tossed onto the table and he turned to look and see if Mac was right behind him.

"We'll get her sorted." It ook a lot of drinks to get the idea of going into Mac's RV for some fun. But, it had happened before and now and then things had to be reestablished. Mac paused, looking at his gypsy clan and the direction Ian had disappeared to. Then he turned and jogged up to his enormous RV, climbing into it so that he had been only a moment behind David. They'd gone to the RV with a tired, dutiful stride. Now that the door was shut behind him he cleared the distance to David, catching his mouth with his. He'd meant to say that he fucking missed him but when he got there that happened instead.

David managed to turn just in time to met by the mouth of whom he considered the better half of himself. Left hand lifted to catch him by the back of the head, knocking his hat askew, and the other grabbed a hold of his shirt to pull him closer. The kiss said what they didn't have to. David missed him, he was sorry for not being there, and he was more relieved to be home, beside Josh, than he could have ever expressed with words anyway.

It was how they should have greeted each other when he first showed up. It felt like a strange divorce, of lovers being separated even though there hadn't been a fight. Josh didn't like that mushy crap, it wasn't his style, but he did miss the affection and what it felt like to be kissed when it wasn't being used as a heterosexual affectation. Just the two of them, the party being a muffled play of noise behind them. When he finally broke the kiss he reached up for his hat and tossed it aside, "Fuck, I needed that." He didn't know how a kiss could be so important, but it was. He needed other things, too, but the first and most hungry was that reconnection.

David absolutely, and positively hated, that they carried women around like beards to hide who they really were. But it happened, he had tried to keep company with Alice to save face and make sure they all knew he was a strong hetero man. Poor girl never stood a chance, and she never even knew it.

When the hat was tossed, David's eyes followed it and watched it land on a chair. A single nod in agreement to needing the kiss before he released Josh's shirt. There was a deep mushy romantic side to David, one he kept tightly under lock and key, instead of flowers and chocolate, he'd leave Josh a coffee and a bowl. Instead of candles and long walks, he settled for car rides and dash light. It was a good thing they had going. And a terrible one, all at once. "I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner."

"Don't fucking worry about it. I was getting the new kid laid," he felt the tug of his shirt's cloth and pressed his lips into his again. His hands were on David's hips.. The kiss had with it the pressure of his body as he walked David backward. They stopped when David's calves hit the edge of his bed. Josh's lips parted David's and then withdrew. He bit his lower lip in that Damn expression, giving him a cocky smile before he looked back to the kitchen, "I'll get us a drink if you pack a bowl?" He wasn't exactly getting a drink. He reached into his back pocket and was busy making sure that people would stay the fuck away from him and not come looking for him as he fixed a drink.

There was a spark in those eyes, something that had missed home and refused to light because of it. Dave knew what direction they were going and yet when the backs of his calves hit the bed he jumped slightly. More so because he knew that mean Josh was going to pull away and when he did, Dave sat his ass right down on the bed. Admiring that cocky grin, he watched him walk all the way to back out was a tilt of head. It was a hate to see you go love to watch you leave situation. He was distracted only momentarily, then he would go about the task at hand.

Patting himself down he found the glass piece in his back pocket, luckily it was still in one piece. After inspecting it he found the baggie by the bed and went to plucking pieces free and one by one pressing them into the bowl. Once packed he set it, and the lighter next to himself on the bed.

Bourbon. Revival. It was still Johnny's night, after all. It wasn't a particularly good bourbon, Johnny didn't have a taste or wallet for the expensive stuff. It was just good enough that it didn't feel like drain cleaner stripping your throat as you swallowed.

Josh was a lean-packed figure with a tattoo of the Godfather movie cover fading in with sweeping lines over his left upper arm. He liked Robert DeNiro in the Taxi driver-- when he was really drunk it was 'Are you talking to ME?"-- it was the iconic moment in that movie where he puts one eye down the sights of his gun and smiles a crooked smile, he had that tattooed over a portion of his back on the right hand side. Some Frank Sinatra lyrics were inked along his right wrist like a bracelet wrapping in over itself.

He stepped back into the room, smirking when he looked at David packing the bowl, "You were supposed to take your clothes off, first."

"Sorry, I had this incredible view, it was fantastic, and fantastically distracting." The right side of his mouth ticked upwards in that boyish, almost mischievous, half smile. Pulling off his jacket, he tossed it off into the corner of the room. His t-shirt soon followed. Torn to shit jeans and then boxers quickly followed and he sat there, Indian style on the bed looking up at Josh. David at one time had fancied himself a spiritualist so he had a mandala tattoo'd on his left upper arm, capping over his shoulder. There was a strange attempt at some sort of script on his right inner wrist, but the job had been so poor and tattoo had become worn by his watch over the years, that at this point it always seemed like he needed to wash his hands. "What about you hmmm?" Eyes swept upwards in a single motion.

The drink tipped back as he watched David undress. Sometimes it was strange to watch him do that, if only because he had been so damn hesitant about even kissing him. Worried that he'd fucked up and that it would be all knuckling and denials. Even after the kiss, he didn't imagine him being so comfortable with him like he was. He guessed that was what people meant when they talked about someone being born a certain way and that conditioning just didn't change that. A woman never had his full attention, never got the weight of his love, in the way he gave it to David. That, for him, was when he knew.

"Me? It's not a distraction if it's what you're paying attention to." He crossed over, sitting on the bed in front of David with that Taxi tattoo with he gun pointed at David. He reached for the bowl and then cut a look over his shoulder to David, "I like it watching you take your clothes off, then mine."

Legs were unfolded and he wrapped them around Josh's outer thighs. Cozying up to his back, he let his chin rest on Josh's shoulder and he wrapped an arm around his waist. Hand slipped up and over Josh's chest, careful not to get in the way of the lighter or bowl. Fingers stroked over his pecs, between them, back up, lazily drawing circles. "True, but I was supposed to be paying attention to getting my ass out of those jeans." A nip and kiss was offered to that shoulder he had rested on just a minute before.

"Anyway, if you like to watch it, it's a good thing I didn't do it while you were in the kitchen so you could watch, or else you'd only get half the show." Slight nod given in a very matter of fact manner. As if suddenly he had all the smart mouth answers.

"Suppose you're right," he conceded, cutting a smile that seemed to say he was borderline wanting to jab him in the ribs with an elbow. He lit the bowl and then set the lighter down. One hand pressed to the side of the glass pipe as he inhaled, sending the bird's nest of green into a sweeping orange. His chest expanded, paused, and then he exhaled and saw the air touch with grey and then go clear. His left hand reached back, scratching at David's nape gently. He put his lips to the pipe for another draw. His fingers dug into the back of David's neck to pull him forward, this time his head craning to catch his lips again, nudging them open with his mouth to push in his tongue and herb smoke.

It was very clear, Josh's intention, and to be honest, he didn't mind the idea of catching an elbow for being a smartass. Instead of the playful punishment, he was rewarded with gifts, gifts carried to his lips by Josh's and that was something he would never say no to. His tongue slid against Josh's, twisted, tangled, even danced against it, all while he graciously accepted the hit. Lungs filled with the acrid smoke and he just let it sit there for an bit, more because he didn't want to break that kiss. After a short moment, he let the smoke free but exhaled it through nostrils. Luckily, there wasn't much smoke left at that point, so their eyes, if opened, were safe.

When the twisting of his boy started to ache and the bowl in his hand threatened to spill he turned back to the nightstand, placing it on top of it. Hands hands dropped to the front of his pants to work them over before he said, "We don't have a lot of time, babe. Johnny's table need to b on fire in about an hour and I got to fuckin' be there for that." He didn't sound as if being there was a problem, more like there was no goddamn way he wouldn't be there for it. There was this jumble of thoughts in his head, though, with the prevailing thought being a clawing need for him. To kiss him more, to pin him on his back and hear a gasp of 'oh fuck' in his ear.

Neither of them were going to miss that, not a snowball's chance in hell of that happening. When he started to get his pants undone, Dave was right there to the rescue. Nimble, slender fingers got everything unbuttoned and unzipped in record time. There was a wanting, no, a need, for their closeness. It didn't need to be pretty, or gentle, not with them, not after all the things they'd been through. Their relationship was built on the unspoken, from the very core, since day one, Josh didn't have to tell Dave that he loved him, and David didn't need to tell him that his body was his playground, a center for him to enjoy. At all lengths, and any way he wanted.

?You got them?" He had seen the books but hadn't realized that they were the 'missing pieces' of the puzzle. He sat up a bit, taking them from Ian and not really expecting an answer to a rhetorical question. He set them on the table top beside him and drew on the cigarette. It was clear Mac still had some reservations that things were still being kept in close and tight to his chest. His eyes picked along the tops of the RVs before going to the kid's face, "I'm not sure about David being in my RV. He's been out for a while."

Mac couldn't say that he was worried that if David lived with him that they were doomed to be caught. You didn't put a guy on a diet in charge of guarding the chocolate. It created a rift, though. It had been an issue of rank that Cole and Ian had finally settled between each other, and now David was there. Josh wished that there was someone he could have talked to about it instead of running everything by himself over and over and occasionally getting shitty advice from people who just didn't see the whole picture. In his RV it had been him, Ian and Sonny, though Sonny always seemed like a non-person. He didn't say or do much, so being dubbed "second in command" was either a joke or because no one wanted to say he was a hired thug. Bodyguard? He was certainly the biggest meat head around.

"Told you I would." The question had been rhetorical, sure, but to the kid's mind it warranted an answer, anyway. He took another drag on his cigarette, holding it pinched between his thumb and middle finger as he stared off in the distance, his gaunt cheeks sucking in as he sucked in smoke.

Ian had begun to suspect at least part of what it was that Mac wasn't saying. Not least because of the curiously conflicted way Dave's presence made him feel, the way he'd had to fight the urge not to heed the second part of the orders he'd gotten last night, '...or don't come back.'

Feeling the other man's eyes on his face, the teenager waited a beat, then two, eventually lifting his gaze to return it. He scratched at his jaw again, his eyes placid - at least on the surface. There were a lot of things he wanted to ask at that moment, most of them in some shade of wounded or angry, but the one he settled on was this: "Where would you put him instead?"

"There's your place. There's Johnny's and Mama Lucy still has an open spot." At least with Mama Lucy David wouldn't be in the room of a man who had recently passed, but if he was in Ian's place? The kid had a caravan for one, and that would mean no room mates during visits. Mac had two room mates so there was the constant sense that someone could step in at any moment. At times it was thrilling and at others it fed an anxiety which weighed upon him more than he was want to admit to.

His eyes leveled on the kid before he added, "I'm sure you and Dave will be able to sort your differences. You haven't failed to hold your own so far, which is pretty fucking amazing." Mac looked away when he said it, like complimenting someone made him slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps it was just complimenting Ian.

Ian's exhale was short and sharp, like there was something he wanted to say but wouldn't. Or at least for the time being, didn't. Shaking his head, he raised his hand to his hair, knocking the hood on his jacket back and scratching his nails over his scalp a few times before smoothing dark waves deliberately back down into his face.

"What's eating you?" Ian sure as fuck wasn't close enough to Johnny for this to be about Johnny. Maybe getting a little freaked out that life was life and maybe some weird creature dropped from a tree and could end it. Wasn't much different from realizing you could die in a car wreck everyday. Mac squinted at him, blowing smoke out the corner of his lips and waiting for the kid to say something before he climbed to his feet, one hand adjusting the belt of his pants so that it was above his hip instead of riding on it.

Ian lifted those slate green eyes to Mac then, and the veneer of calm was gone. "Y'sent me on a fuckin' suicide mission and told me not to come back if I couldn't do it. Y'basically sent me off to get killed with him lookin' on like some..." he gestured uselessly with his cigarette, "...like some kinda' teacher's pet crossed with a cat who ate the goddamn canary."

Scowling, Ian took a final drag off his cigarette and flicked it angrily to the ground. His thick brows were furrowed above eyes the color of concrete splattered with green spray paint. Mac had never shown clear favorites before, not like this. Sure he'd had his inner circle and Ian had fought his way into it, but this was the first time Mac had ever shown an actual preference for who the victor might be. It hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Then I actually do manage it, and you two got th'fucking balls to show me how surprised you are."

His eyes were squinting, either from light, thought, or just being attentive and picking out the details of Ian's face as he spoke. He sucked on his cigarette and there was a small nod afterward, the smoke exhaled a near-invisible vapor. Ian had a point, though. Somehow the blame of the situation had been put on him, and as Mac recalled events he realized that Ian had, in fact, done nothing wrong but get laid at his own behest. Princess Anita had given him the eye and he'd nudged her at Ian. He had driven her over. It was her that was the Barlow that shoved her bag full of shit and left.

Fuck.

Ian might have been able to see that the set of Josh's shoulders changed a bit after what he said. Ian had done well crawling into his ear and getting a word in. Ever since he'd come in, he'd been more persuasive than Cole. This wasn't even persuasion so much as pointing out facts. David hadn't known that Mac fucked up-- no on had yet attributed it to him. "Let's smoke," he said to Ian, motioning him to follow him into his RV. There was a check over his shoulder to see if Ian was coming.

He'd deny it later, but Ian had absolutely been bracing himself for a backlash. He'd never heard anybody talk to Mac the way he just had and survive it. So he's a little stunned when the leader moves away, invites him to go smoke with him. The surprise is clear in his eyes but he rises, following.

And no, Ian had deliberately attributed it to Cole, to keep Mac out of it. That had seemed to go unnoticed until maybe just now, too.

Inside the RV mac sat at the kitchen tab, grabbing a plastic Tupperware dish with a red lid that he pried off of it. His hands set to work, picking and cleaning out stems and seeds on vanilla-flavored rolling papers. Most of the time the vanilla just disappeared, but the strawberry and banana tasted like ass, anyway.

Mac usually didn't take well to outbursts, that was true. His mind was still sorting what was to be done. Usually he just crushed a problem like that to make it go away.

Was the investment and what Ian's value to him worth losing it?

"Getting to the Barlow camp and getting David's notebooks was a fucking miracle," the paper was lifted and rolled. He angled its contents and then licked along the piece of paper to seal it before he looked back to Ian, "And we both know why David's cover was blown." That was all the detail or blame he was willing to verbalize on the matter. Ian would get it, anyway.