It wasn't the sort of reunion Emily expected.  Perhaps she should've been prepared for it, should have approximated the noise level based on Ally's natural born personality. Or perhaps she should have anticipated the range of colourful screeches, and unbalanced emotions that would've crept out from beneath the close family ties that Ally probably had.  Maybe, Emily really should have realized that if Ally of all people had run from the house due to proclaimed craziness of her family, that there was probably some basic truths to that.  Craziness from a crazy persons mouth usually spelt out psychotic. 

Lot's and lot's of psychotic.

Like, beyond Einstein's capability of understanding.

Yeah.  That kind of psychotic.

The screams had originally yanked her down from her cloud of pondering, and her brother's following growl yanked her straight out of her room and sent her flying down the stairs.  It probably wouldn't be good if Luke killed his fiancee's parents.  That's not exactly the perfect wedding present.

It could cause problems.

Though, if Emily's parents ever emitted noises like the ones she was hearing, she wouldn't blame the guy.  

She rounded the final few steps, slid her toes from the slick oak panelling, and turned to follow the somewhat subdued noise into the living room.  Judging by the fact that her eardrums were no longer bordering on death, someone had likely beaten her to the scene - potentially a crime filled one- and was attempting to calm the horde.  

Jokes on them though, trying to calm a bunch of werewolves was like letting a puppy try to herd sheep.  They were more likely to be trampled BEFORE they could accomplish anything, despite how eager they may be.

The last thing she heard as she made the final step into the madness, was the soft scuttle of footsteps following behind her.  Probably just Nick, watching over her, the same way he had been for god knows how many years.

Yes, she knew is she simply took one deep inhale of his scent, she would be able to verify that he was stalking her.

No, she would not let herself be invested enough to do so.  She had spent at least three years pretending she wasn't attracted to the large, puppy like Beta wolf.  She was not going to slip up now.

Talk about adding madness to an already maddening situation.

***

The living room had probably seen more relaxed company.  Then again, it was also often visited by much more... sane company. 

A tall man, with shaggy black hair that was graying around the temples, perched on the arm of what was -usually- considered to be her brothers favourite chair.  Judging by the way that the lanky Alpha was standing rigid far across the room from the man; however, likely meant that he had more things to worry about than the demise of a once very important possession. 

If Emily had known that all it took was bringing a father -albeit, a slightly intimidating one, who had just found out Luke had touched his daughter in many, many ways no father wants to be aware of- to the home to have him relinquish the large red cushy, potentially damn good reading chair, she would have done it ages ago.

She could have pondered this further, and she probably would have, if at the exact moment her toes crossed the threshold, her brothers eyes hadn't fixed onto hers with a look of absolute despair.

It would have been funny -hilarious even- if it were not so absolutely pathetic.

"Tea, anyone?" Emily asked, sweeping into the room like the most gracious of hosts.  It gave her the chance to further survey the situation. 

She had been correct in assuming someone had beaten her down to the room. A visiting Alpha -Matt, she believed- stood in the middle of the room, staring both opposing sides down with a look of pure annoyance.  Arms crossed, biceps bulging, Emily would have normally taken a moment to survey the sight.  The fact that tall, broader Nick, with more bulge-y biceps (if that were considered a word) stood behind her, surveying her, made her reconsider that idea.  She didn't need to add 'brawling-jealous-over-zealous-egotistical-overbearing-mate' to the current agenda.  There was enough stupidity in one room already.

Ignoring his piercing blue eyed stare, she flitted her narrow gaze around the room.  A small, blonde haired pixie of a person was comfortably nestled into the Luke's currently thieved chair.  She was so tiny that, had Emily not stepped further into the room, she would have remained completely hidden behind the giant man's pose.  Likely, exactly the way 'grey temples' liked it.  Unlike the tense, slightly offensive man, this woman practically vibrated with energy.  It was not hard to deduce that this was Ally's mother.  They had that same 'I'm-going-to-vibrate-you-right-out-of-the-room-with-my-sparkling-personality-and-ridiculous-energy-levels' vibe going on.  It was almost a shocking moment, though, to realize that compared to the fairy, Ally was pretty tame. And momma bear had yet to even open her mouth.

It was a terrifying realization, actually.

The green, pirecing gaze of the energizer bunny was focused one on thing in particular: Ally.  Who currently, was seated in the somewhat-but-less-cozy-than-the-red-chair sofa.  Admiring her nails.  As though this entire standoff was a bore to her, and her mate wasn't about to flee for his life, or kill her father.

Either of which, at this point, would have been pretty entertaining.

At least it would release some of the tension in there.  At this point, even a chainsaw wouldn't cut this shit. 

"A coffee would be great, dear," Pixie spoke, calmly raising her gaze to Emily.  She was surprised the lady managed to say it without a distinct vibrational quality to her otherwise soothing voice.  How she managed to make a move like that, so seemingly comfortable in a room that was straddling a fine line between battlefield and tense boardroom meeting, was befuddling.  Not quite as befuddling as the idea of giving her more caffeine, though.

  "Are you sure you need any more caffeine?"

"EMILY!"  Luke cried, exasperation tinging his voice.

"She's over here, practically vibrating with energy, and she wants more caffeine?" she paused to throw the lady an insincere look of apology, adding a little "no offense" in the gesture.

Not that she meant it.

The woman needed no more. If she was getting coffee, it was going to be decaf. That was, if they even had decaf coffee.  Ally found it to be an abomination, and Emily was slowly beginning to understand where that train of thought likely stemmed from.

The nature vs nurture argument would be strong with this one.

"What's the problem with that?" Grey Temples growled, lurching forward protectively.  At the same time, Emily could feel the tension roiling off of Nick. His sudden step forward, way into her personal space, was expected.  It could be tolerated, for now.  Instinct was a hard thing to control.  What she wouldn't tolerate was the way he was practically inhaling her scent like his life depended on it. 

It wasn't like she usually let him get this close to her.  If he ever questioned her as to why, she would be bringing this particular situation forward, for sure. I mean, werewolves heavily relied on scent, sure.  That didn't mean he had to act like she was the most divine beef stew he ever did come across.

"Oh, that's okay," Pixie giggled. "She's more than right.  I think by now, my need for coffee is like the need for comfort more than anything.  Probably best if I laid off on it."

Actually giggled.  Emily wasn't sure she had heard a true giggle in her life, until this moment. Even Ally's lighthearted, annoying as fuck, peal of laughter didn't come close.

"You don't need to do anything, pumpkin," Grey Temples muttered.  Pumpkin.

"Can someone please give me some names here, so I stop with the internal nicknames?" Emily sighed. It was getting tedious, and if she was going to be making anyone something to drink, she damn well deserved to know what to call them.

"Abe and Linley," Ally murmured, when it became obvious that Grey Temples did not feel like introductions were his cup of tea. Pardon the pun.  Emily inclined her head, nodded, and after receiving the bulk of refreshment requests from all those involved -including Matt, who looked rather unpleased to be a part of this-  she headed into the kitchen.  Nick followed close behind, seeming to refuse that he would need to soon part with the little personal space freedom he had been allowed in the last few moments.  After she filled the kettle and set it on the overly shiny stainless stove top, she reached for the milk and sugar, keeping her back to the overbearing presence for as long as she could get away with it.  She was reaching for the teabags when he broke the silence. 

"What were you calling them in your head, sweetheart?" Nick murmured, using what he probably thought to be a distraction to slide close enough for his breath to feather her neck.

"Grey Temples. Pixie," she whispered back.  She could tell it took physical effort to restrain his laugher, but he let a low chuckle slip.

"You're amazing." He slid closer, arms appearing on either side of her on the counter. Nick clearly expected her to turn around.  That would be walking into a trap; however, and if there was one thing Emily did not do, it was traps.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she hissed, pressing herself further into the edge of the counter.  It didn't seem to deter him, though.  He just moved closer. "

"Like where?"

"Like, I don't know, your own pack?"

"Leave of absence.  Matt can more than handle the pack without me around, and until you'll finally accept that we're stuck together, I'm not going anywhere."

"When did you get so pushy," Emily grumbled.  She felt his head leaning in, chin settling into the nook between her neck and shoulder, lips brushing softly along her skin. "Stop that."

"Why? I can hear your heartbeat, sweetheart. I know you don't want me to stop."  The hands on the countertop slowly moved in, and spun her in the circle he formed with his body.  A small circle for someone that was just so... big.

"Nick, I will  hit you," she threatened, "I will aim for that tiny thing you call a-"

"Careful, sweetheart.  One more word and I'll be tempted to prove you wrong." She was facing him now, staring up -way up- into that chiseled, scruffy face, with those almost-turquoise eyes, and all of that golden hair.  Way more hair than she would've guessed he could manage to tame, but he did just that.  It only looked like a mess when he woke up -not that she was present for such an occasion- or after she frustrated him to the point of hair gripping, hand through hair madness -definitely present for that.

"Nicholas, we have way more important things to worry about at this moment than your anxiety about a mating that will never happen."  She tried, desperately, to ignore the smirk that pulled up the corners of those pale pink, chapped but kissable looking lips.

Not that she had ever considered kissing those.

Never.

Especially not when he stumbled into the kitchen in the morning, all bleary eyed, sleepy and shirtless.

Never then.

Her mind was evidently occupying her focus too much.  In the few seconds she spent reflecting on how damn good he looked shirtless, he had moved closer.  She could feel the waves of heat roiling off of him, striking her skin, and sending goosebumps flying.

"Sweetheart, this will happen.  One day, you're going to let me in, and I'm not going to let you kick me back out.  You're mine."  If his lips hadn't been so close she could taste him, his eyes hadn't been so fired up and focused on hers, she might have had the energy to fight him on that statement.  She wasn't owned by him, at least, not until she let herself be. And, perhaps, it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a little plaything at her beck and call.  He would probably be a good source of entertainment.  God knows she could put up with that sleepy face and rough voice in the morning.

That was it though. A teddy bear agreement. A cuddle buddy. 

She would think through this idea when she wasn't crammed up against a solid wooden countertop, and overwhelmed by the scent of whatever tinted his skin.