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jake,
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It's been a strange week.

A tough one, really, if John's honest, and at least half of that is due to the amount of paperwork he's had to do. There's been an increase in activity since New Year's Eve, since people have had their power swapped, for lack of a better explanation, and it's not that everyone who has found themselves with new powers is bad, it's just that many of them are confused. And most of them don't seem to know what to do with themselves.

Even if they're not purposely committing crimes, it makes for a few more reports than there might have otherwise been, which means more paperwork for John and that's hardly his favourite thing to do in the first place. He's already had to fill out two separate incident reports for people who had accidentally smashed windows in stores without understand their newfound strength. No charges have been laid and both times the person had offered to pay for the shattered window, but it still needs to be written up among many other things.

It's a far cry from where he's come from, that's for certain.

When John leaves the precinct that night, he's weary, more tired than he'd like to admit, but he still takes the long way home, patrolling darkened alleys and the seedier parts of Darrow. It's probably a bad idea, probably one Karen would give him hell for, but he can't just leave it all alone, no matter how tired he is.

It's when he's heading back toward home, passing by a secluded bit of trees that he hears rustling and growling. It gives him pause and he stands there, not far away, his hand on the butt of his service weapon. Then out of the trees pads the largest wolf John has ever seen and he's so stunned, so taken aback by the sheer size of the thing that he doesn't even think to draw his gun.

Which is a good thing, it seems, because within moments the wolf begins to shift into a decidedly human shape.

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Jake winced at the slip, hoping Luke would forgive him for essentially telling his secret to someone that only peripherally knew him. He trusted that John wasn't going to go screaming it from rooftops but it was still a risk because who knew what could happen here and what sort of things could happen to make John say something.

"You're asking the wrong bloke that," Jake said, deciding to just move past what he'd done. "I just know it's happened to me a few times. Nothing bad, nothing that might have risked anyone else but..."

He shrugged. "What's that old saying? You wouldn't like me when I'm angry? Guess that point really applies when I'm like this. Good thing it takes a lot to make me angry."

"You were aware enough not to attack me," John says thoughtfully, watching as their apartment building comes into view. "Are you conscious of yourself as still being a person while you've changed?"

Given his admittedly limited knowledge of folklore, he would have thought a werewolf would attack blindly. That seems to be the way they're always written, the suggestion that they're monsters and little else prevalent in nearly all the stories he's ever read or seen.

But Jake hadn't attacked him. He'd come out of the trees and then changed, leading John to think he must be at least partly aware of who he is and the difference between right and wrong.

"I know that I'm not typically a werewolf when I do change," Jake said, trying to parse it out as best he could. When he was a werewolf, Jake was far away but still there. He didn't have control but he was there and he could recognize people if he wasn't too far gone in his transformation.

"It's not easy to explain," Jake said, wincing. "It's like I'm there but I'm not the dominant personality. I'm aware and I have recognition but I'm pretty sure if this wolf wanted to do something, it would overpower whatever control I do have when I'm changed."

So, he could recognize John and since he wasn't hungry and John hadn't done anything to him, it was easy to change. If John had been someone else or had maybe tried to attack him, things would be different.

"I wonder if that changes. With experience, I mean," John says, digging for the apartment keys in his pocket at the same time. "It must. If not, it seems like this place would be in significantly more danger than it is."

And while John has seen some odd things in Darrow, while he's even been told there are vampire attacks every so often, he has yet to hear of a werewolf bursting out of the wood and biting someone. There's nothing more than Jake's information for him to go on. He supposes he could go speak with Luke, but John has a feeling that's not the sort of information people often willingly pass around and so he has every intention of just keeping that bit of knowledge to himself.

It would be good to know, to have information, but not at the expense of someone's privacy and comfort.

"Probably but I'm a bloody shit werewolf right now so I'm not gonna be able to really tell you," Jake said with a lift of his shoulders. He knew that, with time and training, maybe he could be an okay werewolf but Jake kind of didn't want it to last that long. He didn't want to be given powers that he had trouble controlling and he didn't want to have to relearn control in a totally different way.

"Right now, I'm just focusing on not hurting anyone, yeah?" Jake said, sighing. "Most people that know have been pretty understanding and that's a bloody surprise. Or -- that came out wrong. I'm just not used to people being so willing to help. This happened in Brighton, I'd get some wide eyes and some supportive words but that's about it. They'd push me out into the wild on my own and hope I didn't eat myself alive."

Ryan wouldn't help him. His father wouldn't. Simon wouldn't. His mother was too sick. He'd be alone.

"But this entire city is different," John answers. "Had someone told me this in New York, I never would have believed it either, but here, it seems... well, it's still strange."

But they're still walking side by side and John is still letting Jake into the apartment building they all share as if nothing at all has changed. In New York, he knows this isn't how he would have reacted. In New York, it was often a shoot first and ask questions later sort of scenario.

"Strange, but not impossible," he says as they enter the lobby.

"Not impossible," Jake echoed because that was the truth. After this whole thing, Jake wasn't going to say anything was impossible in this city. In Brighton, werewolves were for the telly, changing into another gender was for books, and staving off death was for dreams.

Here, it was all a reality and if Jake allowed himself to think about it, he might end up a gibbering idiot. It was a lot to adapt to and while Jake thought himself good at rolling with things, Darrow put him through his paces.

"Hopefully temporary too," he added. "Let's all pray that this is temporary."

"You'd learn how to adapt," John says. "It might not be easy, but you would."

Jake is capable. He isn't stupid, he's good at his job, John thinks he would manage to work it out. It's true that it's a little more extreme of an example than most people have to adjust to when their lives change, but John has also discovered most people can adapt to things they would never expect. And Jake isn't alone here. They're walking together right now, after all, and it's a strange thing, John still isn't entirely sure what to make of it, but he would be here if Jake needed him. If it turned out to be something long term.

"Want to come upstairs?" he asks. "Karen is there, I'm sure she'd be glad to see you. I can get you a beer."

Jake thought about it for a second before deciding that he had time and it would be nice to just sit and not worry about what he'd turned into. So far, everything Luke had told him had happened and he'd been able to control things decently enough (save for a few flubs here and there) so he didn't think being around people would be dangerous.

"Yeah, okay," Jake said, nodding. "I won't take up too much of your time and I promise I won't changed in your apartment. Nearly did that at my own place and though I managed to pull myself back, I was a little worried about my windows for a spell. That'd be hard to explain, that I punched a window out because I couldn't control my werewolf change."

John shrugs easily, pressing the button for the elevator before he says, "I can replace a window."

It turns out Karen isn't in the apartment -- probably gone back to hers, he thinks, at least until he calls -- but she's left Bear behind and he can immediately tell something is different with Jake. He heads straight for John as he always does, nudging his nose against John's fingers, but then he catches the scent of something he's not expecting and he freezes. For a moment John can tell he's trying to decide whether or not to growl, but then he sees Jake, too, and his tail begins to wag cautiously.

"He can tell something's different," John says, fascinated by Bear's reaction.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're very calm?" Jake asked as they made their up to John's flat. "And I've known a lot of calm people but you're very calm. I'd wonder if you weren't a robot or something if I didn't know any better."

The last part's a joke but the rest isn't. John is a calm, collected and unflappable person. Jake envied that a bit. He didn't think he had a bad temper but he knew he got worked up and could explode if poked.

Jake stopped cold at the sight of Bear, not wanting to rile him up if he'd pegged Jake as an intruder. "Should I --- should I go?"

"I've been told," John confirms with a small smile, although he's still watching Bear. There's no danger, he listens to John with the kind of attention very few dogs can ever display and he's not an aggressive animal to begin with. If John wants him to attack, he will, but he obviously doesn't want that in this situation.

"No, he's fine," he says. "He's friendly. I think he's just confused."

Bear's tag continues to wag and John whistles at him and says, "Sitta." Bear immediately sits, but his tail is wagging harder now and he presses his nose in the air toward Jake, sniffing enthusiastically.

"Sorry for any confusion, mate," Jake said in Bear's direction, slowly holding a hand out so he can be checked out. He wished he could ask the dog how he smelled considering he had it had to be different if dogs were reacting to him now. Usually, they glanced at him, maybe trotted over to give him a sniff but it wasn't ever like this.

"Hopefully you don't go around pissing all over John's apartment trying to mark your territory. Place is yours, I promise."

"Bear knows better than to do something like that," John answers with a small smile in the dog's direction before he heads to the kitchen to get two bottles of beer out of the fridge. The dog is still sitting still with the exception of his wagging tail, though John can tell he really wants to go to Jake.

"Doe Maar," he says to Bear and the dog takes a few steps toward Jake, rubbing his nose against his hands. He's a well behaved dog at even the worst of times, he's well trained and listens to John without question, but this is certainly a different situation, one he's never been in before. And still he doesn't do anything but sniff Jake's hands and wag his tail.

"Here," John says, offering Jake one of the beer bottles. "He's alright."

"What language does he understand?" Jake asked him, letting Bear sniff his hand and stroking his head when the dog seemed to warm up enough to him. He kept his movements slow though, not wanting to startle Bear or himself into something chaotic.

With his free hand, Jake took the bottle with a grateful nod. "Thanks, mate. This is all so surreal, you know? Weirdest thing that ever happened to me back home was waking up with a bunch of shit painted on my face after a night of drinking. Nothing like this."

"Dutch," John answers. "He's a Belgian Malinois and in my world, at least, there's only one man who trains them for military service. When I first met Bear, he was in the possession of Aryan Nationalist who wanted to kill me, but had no idea what sort of dog he had."

It's a good memory and John smiles fondly, rubbing a hand over Bear's head. The dog had behaved so well for him that first day and every day since.

"I've seen some strange things, but this entire city really seems to take the cake," he agrees. "There are no werewolves where I'm from either." If there had been, he's sure the Machine would have found them.

"I think your dog's had more action than I have," Jake joked though he might have been serious. He'd been just a rookie when he'd ended up in Darrow, barely having gotten his feet wet in the Brighton PD and though he'd been with the Darrow PD longer, the crime here was very different. It existed but not in the same form or with the same frequency as it did in Brighton.

"Most I saw of werewolves back home were the movies on the telly and when kiddies dressed up like them at Halloween," Jake told him, shaking his head. "Costumes were mostly shite but they were cute anyway. Nothing like me when I'm...well, you know."

They didn't end up bare arsed naked afterward either. Thank fuck because that would have been a lawsuit in waiting.

"Bear's done a lot more than most people realize," John agrees, giving the dog's ears another gentle stroke before he nods toward the bed in the corner of the living room. Bear gives Jake's fingers another friendly nose before he circles the room to look for his toy, then goes to lie down with it, chewing contently on the corner of the bone.

Taking a seat on the couch, John sets his beer bottle on the table and gives a soft laugh. "It's a very different world than this one. There are things I'd seen at home that most people wouldn't believe, but nothing like this. Sometimes I feel like this place brought me here as a mistake."

He doesn't know any vampires, he's never been to another planet. For all his training, John still mostly considers himself a normal man and he thinks Jake probably feels the same. They're regular men in a world filled with supernatural creatures and superheroes and he'd like to think they're both still doing their best, but it's hardly easy.

"Well, I definitely think it brought me here mistakenly," Jake said, taking a seat after John and blowing out a breath. "I am not an exciting bloke and I've really got nothing to offer this place other than..."

Well, he was a decent cop but he was still learning. Was that enough? Jake didn't really think so though that didn't stop him from trying his damnedest to live up to the standards his father had set back home.

"I can make a few arrests and keep a few of the bars in business but compared to what other people can do? This was a mistake. Probably should have taken my partner or my dad if they wanted someone important. I'm really not anybody worth giving a chance like this to. If this is a chance. Maybe it's a curse. I've got no bloody idea."

John's quiet for a moment, taking in Jake's words and then he shakes his head. Whether it's a chance or a curse, he has no idea, but if it is a chance, which is sometimes feels like to him, he doesn't think it's true that Jake shouldn't be here, that he's not someone worth giving such a chance to.

"I don't know your partner or your father, but I know you," he says. "And I'm glad you're here. I'm not a man prone to... easy friendships, but it's never been work to be around you."

That might not sound like a compliment to some, but it is coming from John. The list of people he trusts in Darrow is limited to Karen and Dutch, but the list of people he finds it easy to be around isn't much longer than that. He likes Jake, though. He thinks he could come to trust him. Carter would be proud.

"That's because you're not a solicitor, mate," Jake said, making a joke of the situation. He liked compliments, liked praise but it had been hard to get from people around him for awhile. Having it presented so easily was...strange. He still smiled to let John know he appreciated the words though.

"And you also haven't let me take you out for a night of drinks and debauchery," Jake added, smirking. "Might change your tune when I keep you out all night and bring you back to your girl smelling of the ocean and probably garlic."

That makes John laugh, harder than most things do, and he lifts his bottle to take a sip of beer, then looks over at Jake.

"Why garlic?" he asks. He has to, it simply begs the question.

When it comes to nights of drinks and debauchery, John honestly can't remember the last time he's done something like that. There had been missions with Finch that certainly looked as if they'd gone that way, he still very clearly remembers showing up at a bachelorette party and having the attendees assume he was their stripper. He'd nearly been ready to kill Finch himself over that one.

Before that, it might have been during his time in the military. A party with his team that had just gone unchecked. Or maybe even before that. He doesn't think drinking himself to the point of passing out on the streets of New York can possibly count.

"Because mate, garlic is delicious, and we'd have to eat something fattening and greasy to go along with the night of drinking," Jake said like it made perfect sense. He was partial to things like sandwiches and onion rings but when he was drunk and maybe even a little high, he'd eat just about anything that was fried and cheap.

"Who wants to drink and dance and sit down to a salad?" Jake asked, making a face. "Not me. I don't want to wash down a good beer with lettuce. Don't get me wrong, I like salads but not on nights out. It's not a night out food. It's...a break food, a lunch food, a diet food."

"I didn't realize the only options were salad or garlic," John says with another laugh. He has to admit, even if only to himself, that it sounds kind of nice. Carter would be proud of him, he thinks, having a girlfriend, having people he considers friends. It's true his social circle isn't especially big, but at least it's not also limited to those he works with.

That might be a first for John, since before he entered the military. Even in New York, when he'd been closer to a few people than he'd managed in a long time, they'd all been people he'd met because of the Machine.

"I don't know if I agreed to dancing, though," he adds a second later. "Drinking and food are both things I'm happy with, but dancing might be a step too far for me. I'm not much of a dancer."

"You've got two legs, mate," Jake said, nodding down at the legs in question. "Anyone with legs can be a dancer. If I gotta teach you, I will, but I do a bit of dirty dancing here and there and you've got a lady that might take offense."

Jake waggled his eyebrows at John but ended up laughing because he truly wasn't someone that would get into the middle of someone's relationship and wreck it. He would absolutely like to teach John to dance, though.

"I'm sure you've been in more high pressure situations than dancing too," Jake noted. "I saw you nearly blow up a street block and you kept your cool. You can dance."