Page 3 of A Quiet Man

Riley scooted his chair forward a bit and leaned close, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Tomas, there's someone new at the precinct." He looked around guiltily, which would draw more attention than anything else he could have done. "A shifter. Afoxshifter. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to know or not."

Tomas looked at him alertly and blinked. "Do you want me to ask someone?"

Riley shrugged, looking uncertain and nervous. "I don't know. I—" He broke off as someone approached, straightening up stiffly and trying unsuccessfully to look casual and unconcerned. He cast Tomas a haunted look filled with meaning and didn't dare look at the newcomer.

"Hello." The man approached Tomas, holding out a hand. "I'm a new homicide consultant. Thought I'd come over and get introductions out of the way." He nodded casually towards Riley. "Hi, Riley. And you are...?" He raised his eyebrows politely at Tomas.

A pushy fellow, Tomas thought, but he went ahead and shook hands anyway. The guy had a slim, cool hand and a firm grip he didn't abuse. A quick shake and speedy release — no lingering, the way people sometimes lingered when they were meeting Tomas and stared like that. The guy had an alertness to him, a sleek, slick, well-groomed and very aware look to him, as if he always knew what the score was in any situation. He was wearing a suit and was good-looking, with good posture and clear skin. He was white, with pale brown hair and pale root-beer-colored eyes that were oddly mesmerizing. He looked at Tomas closely, very interested in whatever it was he saw.

"Well, I'm Tomas Quiróz. I see you've met my partner, Riley Thorne."

The fox shifter nodded. Riley gave him a nervous finger-waggle of a wave and an anxious little smile. He looked ready to bolt any second.

"And you are...?" Tomas asked, making his voice silky as well, and just a hint threatening. He didn't like people making his partner uneasy, horning into the sacred space that was theirs alone.

The fox twisted his mouth into a wry, soft smile, his eyes warmer somehow, and just as root-beer-in-the-sun clear. "Cody Millard. Very pleased to meet you, Tomas." He pronounced it very well, really. "I'm sure I'll see you around a lot." He walked away with the confident strut you'd expect of a predator — or a flirt.

Inwardly, Tomas sighed. He didn't like impressing people without knowing how he'd done it or why they were interested in him. He had the feeling the fox shifter consultant was going to find some excuse to talk to him soon. The guy had that interested look in his eyes. He thought Tomas wasinteresting.

Riley gave him a troubled look. "Homicide," he said softly. "Because I can't do it." He twisted his hands together, looking wretchedly guilty.

"Hey, now, none of that." Tomas leaned towards him earnestly. "The department was lucky to get you, at any price, and just because you're not working homicide, well, that means someone else gets a job, too. That's good, isn't it?"

Riley nodded slowly. He had impressive skills, but he couldn't handle sniffing around dead bodies. That was the main area where Tomas had needed to put his foot down to protect his wolf partner. Riley had lost his parents at a young age, and it had left deep scars. There were some things he couldn't do. Riley brightened a little at the idea of the job market increasing rather than him failing, and he gave Tomas a shy, tentative nod, as if he liked that. "Do you think we should call him by his first name or his last name?"

Seeing as how he'd avoided putting Riley on the spot for a conversation, Tomas expected the fox shifter wouldn't go out of his way to talk to Riley at all, and most likely it would be a moot point. "Whatever seems appropriate at the time. If he calls you by your first name, you should call him by his first name. And vice versa. Probably, you won't have to talk to him much."

"I won't?" He looked incredibly relieved.

"Well, we won't be working the same jobs, will we?" They almost never had to talk to Homicide on the job, so why would it be different for Cody Millard?

"No, that's right." Riley brightened all the way up again to his full-wattage smile, radiating relief. "It's not that I dislike foxes. I never know what to say, or how to act."

"Well, it's not a secret he's a shifter — obviously — so at least you don't have to worry about that."

They'd be on patrol later, but Tomas had some paperwork to finish up now, so he got started on it, shoving aside the thought of all the awkward encounters he'd had so far today. Riley stuck near him, helping whenever he could and bringing fresh cups of milky coffee, ice water, and extremely sweet tea whenever he thought Tomas looked thirsty. Tomas drank them all; Riley knew exactly how he liked his beverages.

#

"Fancy seeing you here." The fox shifter's grin made it sound more like a "caught you" than an actual surprise.

Tomas resisted rolling his eyes. He was at the gym, trying to work out, so he could stay fit enough to keep up with his wolf shifter partner. He hadn't come here for conversation, and meeting the fox unexpectedly didn't exactly make his day.

He answered deadpan. "Yeah, a cop who works out at the main place where cops all work out in this town. Fancy."

Cody's smile curled mischievously. Those root beer eyes danced. He was foxy, this fox, and he knew it. But he sobered up after studying Tomas for a moment. "A private guy," he said. "That's okay. I'll leave you to it." He gave Tomas an oddly shy salute and sauntered off with a quick wink. Even leaving, he couldn't help flirting, apparently.

Who knew we'd get a fox at the precinct and he'd fit the stereotype so well? Of course, maybe he was fitting the flirty, fun fox stereotype because he chose to. Tomas didn't feel like pondering the matter.

He got busy with his workout, avoiding attention and friendliness whenever possible, ducking an offer of help, another one of chatting, and an uncharacteristic offer to hang out sometime from a non-cop who came here often. Tomas was beginning to feel harassed. Of course it was silly to think all the attention was about sexual interest. It probably wasn't. But he still wished he could disappear — or do his workout in peace.

It wasn't that he even wanted to work out, but he had a wolf as a partner, and he needed to be as fit and healthy as he could to keep up with (and take care of) Riley. Riley, of course, didn't have to even try — but he still often did.

If he'd been here, no one would have approached. They were a self-contained unit, a bubble, a world of their own when it was the two of them. For all Riley's nervous humility, he looked intimidating, and he kept people away just with that. It was a relief sometimes.

But today, Riley had parenting to do, and Tomas still had to make time for a workout. And so he worked out. Alone. Feeling harassed. Pondering whether there was a better gym somewhere, where no one would try to talk to him. Sometimes he wanted to move into the quiet room of a library so he could get some peace and quiet. No doubt he would miss human interaction. Eventually.

After his shower and change, he headed down to the docks. There was no point to it, except sometimes he liked to go down there and watch the seagulls scream and the dirty water lap against the pier. When he was a kid, this had been the best place to come and the closest he was allowed to getting into trouble. Tomas, his brother Diego, and usually at least one of their cousins would spend their precious non-chore hours here in the summertime whenever they could get away, trying to fish in the filthy waters, exploring, studying crabs and seaweed, throwing bread to the gulls and squinting at the cargo ships, trying to figure out what they carried, imagining the fun of being a stowaway and pondering piracy. It was especially cool when they got a chance to watch one unload. Some of that sounded silly now, but they'd made their own fun and reveled in it.