“That’s probably homophobic,” Marcus points at Matt, then looks at Cami for confirmation.
She shakes her head again.
The doorbell interrupts the conversation, and I thank whoever’s at the door in advance. It’s Dominic, I can tell from his scent as I walk towards the door.
I smile at him when I open it. I invited him to join the session, too, after I remembered that I need to become better at delegating work. But the poor guy looks ready to bolt with the loud noises coming from inside.
“They’re not always like this. You'll like them,” I assure him.
“You'll find them okay,” Marcus says from behind me.
“You won't hate them?” I say.
“You might not want to kill them.” Marcus nods.
I nod with him. Dominic laughs.
We walk back into the fray with a nervous Dominic in tow.
“Guys,” I shout over them, clapping my hands. They all glance up at me together. “This is Dominic, the new L.A. Bureau agent.”
“Oh yeah, we’ve met,” Cami gets up to hug Dominic.
“Yeah, we met at a scene.” Matt gives him a casual bro nod. I glare at him.
Sloan hugs him, too. “We've hung out twice now,” she says to me. “Why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking,” I say. I’mnot.
“I haven’t met him, if that helps,” Bree offers.
“ I think we’ve talked on calls a few times,” Dominic says.
“Oh, right. I’ve directed calls to him. The chase last week was intense, dude,” she adds.
“Right?” Dominic commiserates, grabbing Marcus’s empty chair beside Bree.
Great, everyone knows everyone.Amazing.
Marcus turns to me. “You really should hang out with more people outside the group,” he suggests.
I glower at him. But the doorbell ringing again saves him from my wrath. The smell of Chinese food coming from outside helps too.
I collect the delivery and take it to the kitchen. Matt follows me wordlessly. He’s definitely coming back to a Marcus in his chair. We may have to move the couch over to the dining area since Meena will be here soon. Well, if anyone can do it without making any noise and causing damage, it’s a bunch of werewolves.
I’m just happy Oliver picked up Mickey this morning, the poor guy would have lost his shit, and we wouldn’t have gotten any work done.
Matt starts unpacking the containers. “I wasjusttelling them about the lasagna Oliver baked. They concluded about you and Elliot all by themselves,” he says, sounding apologetic, which is so unnecessary it catches me off guard.
“Dude, it’s okay. It’s just them,” I wave him off.
“Didn’t want you to think I was discussing you guys behind your back,” he explains. “But you’re really okay, right?”
His concerned tone really grates on me because he, of all people, should know I’m not some fragile little dude who’ll get his heart broken at the drop of a hat. “I said I was, didn’t I?” I snap.
He sighs. “I’m just— you know what, you know best. Are you still stalking him, though?” he asks, lowering his voice enough that even the werewolves in the next room won’t pick it up.
“I’m monitoring him in a more direct way now.”
