JIMIN POV:

It's as we're settling in for the night that an abrupt knock comes on the bedroom door, starkly different to any of the personalities of our packmates. Nothing like the playful boisterousness of Tae, nothing like Yoongi hyung's observant, sweet silent ways, nothing like Hobi hyung's playful giddy taps. And if it's not them, it still doesn't fit with the others. Not like Jin hyung's playful gentleness and nor like Jungkookie's endearingly shy ways.

I exchange a glance with Joon hyung who'd been leaning against the headboard with a book open, arm wrapped around my side that slides away as he sits up- head cocked and ears perked up.

"I'll get it hyung." I murmur, sliding off the bed and padding towards the door, pulling the door open and stopping in surprise when I see Hobi hyung on the other side.

He always announced his presence with an energetic flail of limbs, some elaborate body movement or a loud sound effect, always the sweet heart-shaped smile that accompanied it and neither of them were present now. There was something stiff and uncomfortable about the way he was standing, scent calm and gentle- the sweet light tones of caramel, nothing about his pheromones gave away that he was bothered about something but his posture was too stiff, his smile didn't quite reach his eyes and when he spoke he was terse.

"We need to talk...please." He whispers at the end, a sense of fragility in his words, a desperation and need.

I silently step aside to let him in, smiling and reaching out to grip his arm.

"Of course we can." I murmur, guiding him back to the bed, shutting the door behind him as I move to usher him to sit down.

Joon hyung no longer has the book in his hands, having set it aside and now looks earnestly towards our packmate.

And invitingly opens the blanket, lifting it up in silent offer and invitation- face earnest and open as he looks towards Hobi hyung. 

Though Hobi hyung silently takes the offer, a small tentative smile on his face as he slides into the middle of the bed, he fiddles with the blanket, doesn't draw it over him and looks towards me, tilting his head to the side, waiting for me to get in beside him.

"Is something the matter Hobi?" Joon hyung asks.

He takes in a deep breath, as if bracing himself, preparing himself to say what it is he needs to say and rather than his head remaining bent, it rises, stiffly poised in a silent show of dominance and control as he turns to face us.

"I need to know everything I can do to help   (Y/N). About the officers at the centre, what the traffickers have been doing...just everything. I can't stand there and watch her hurt and still be in the dark, still be ignorant." Hobi hyung says. But alongside the firmness, the determined need to know, there's also a fragility to his strongly said words. Comes across in the way his neck stiffens and his eyes drift away from us to glare obstinately at the opposite wall, throat bobbing as he swallows heavily.

"Hobi hyung..." I breathe.

Feeling the ache in his words, feeling it in the way his body is stiff and rigid between the two of us and how his hands have fisted into the blanket, clutching at it and torn whether to push it away from him and reject the comfort it brings or to draw it close and hide.

And lean in close slowly, grateful and relieved that he doesn't lean away but sighs when I lean against his side, wrap an arm across his waist as I hug him.

I tentatively lean forward to nose against his jaw, sad that Hobi hyung is hurting, that our packmate is suffering because he can't take care of (Y/N), of someone he considers his own. That for all that he was trying to be strong, trying to remain calm and in control of the situation, he couldn't hide the fact it was bothering him. Enough that he'd approached to try and ease those restless thoughts.

"Hob-ah, I'm sorry...I didn't realise (Y/N) worked with you. I didn't realise that telling her to keep things to herself for her own protection would just end up suffocating her. When all this time she could've confided to you, could've had less of a burden to bear if there was someone who knew." Joon hyung confesses with apology heavy and thick on his tongue, ears drooping as he looks apologetically at Hobi hyung. 

It was a look I'd seen too much on Joon hyung's face these days. He felt so intensely and was pulling more blame on him than he needed to. He'd already apologised so many times. To me, to (Y/N), to Hobi hyung, to the pack. But it was something that none of us could control, could help but be involved in.

And yet the way he looks at Hobi hyung, it's as if he's feeling it all once more. The heavy jumbled mess that the trafficking case was, and Joon hyung looked as if he was apologetic for us even being aware of it.

But before I can lean over to swat at him, to tell him off for burdening himself, Hobi hyung beats me to it, digging an elbow into his side, a light scratch at my scalp before he's turning to glare at him.

And it's then I realise that there's something decidedly intimidating about Hobi hyung's glare, something about it that makes me glad that it's not me on the receiving end- feeling the need to dip my head and stop the light scenting I'd started to reassure hyung.

But it's right what Joon hyung needs. Someone who's showing the dominance, the firm hand Joon hyung's troubled, blaming mind requires.

"Namjoon-ah, your job is to catch the bad guys, not apologise for everything criminals do. So stop with the blame game. I didn't come here to make you feel bad, I just want to help        (Y/N)." he says and his firm tone softens towards the end, weary and pleading, but the silent sharpness to hyung's scent and the pheromones rolling off him have Joon hyung nodding morosely, dejectedly.

He looks like a scolded puppy. And the sight of him is just too adorable to resist.

It seems like Hobi hyung thinks the same because he's giving a light nuzzle to Joon hyung's cheek and pinching his other one.

"You're too cute Joon! How does anyone get intimidated by such a big pup? You're such a softie." Hobi hyung coos, purring low with delight when his words and his scenting makes a burst of Joon hyung's scent seep out, rich earthy musk as he subtly tilts his head to the side, seeking out more light scenting.

"Now pup. How do I take care of (Y/N)? I know we're all on the same page when it comes to protecting her." he says, much much lighter and relieved now that he's assured that we're not going to hide anything from him.

We'd done that unintentionally and seen the effects it had on (Y/N).

Now we'd do anything to keep her protected without hurting her.

-----

I smile when (Y/N) steps out of the complex, startled for all but one instant before she sighs, turning to face me again.

"Conveniently out for a walk?" she asks with a questioning raise of her eyebrows and the barest, slightest twitch of her lips.

I shake my head.

"Not today. Today I'm escorting a rather lovely friend of mine to work." I muse watching with a smile as her lips still and her eyes go wide. Startled.

"A friend?" she echoes.

As if she hadn't considered the notion that there was something beyond acquaintances between the two of us. It stings slightly but that slight sting is what drives me to make sure she knows. To be the first one to extend friendship to her, I knew Tae especially was impatiently dithering to make amends, to let her know she can belong. 

"Of course a friend. Am I just Jimin to you?" I ask, looking at her with wide eyes.

She sighs, a small smile on her lips as she shakes her head.

"Of course not. You can't be just Jimin. Friends is nice." She says with a light smile.

And that's how it starts.

A new friendship that begins in the autumnal air of Seoul outside our apartment complex. A friendship that slowly and tentatively grew with early morning walks and drives back after long shifts. A friendship that slowly and slightly begins to show to me the (Y/N) beyond being a caregiver. The (Y/N) that was still endearingly shy and painfully stiffly reserved but every now and then let glimpses of her shine through the carefully enforced wall.

"You don't have to be so guarded you know. Why don't you come join us for meals? The boys are quite the bunch of softies despite their hybrid parts." I say over breakfast a week later.

Seven days of walking with her to work and driving back with her, sometimes with Hobi hyung in tow, most of the time just the two of us. Seven days of intentionally dragging my feet whenever we grew close to a café, of pouting and huffing and giving longing glances until (Y/N) stopped, turning to face the café entrance.

"Want to go in? I could do with a hot drink." Is the sentence both sets of my ears perk up to hear in the chilly mornings.

Because whenever she leaves the apartment she never carries the tell-tale scents of cooking, I've heard Jungkookie wonder aloud during our shared meals that (Y/N) never seems to touch the kitchen, that her scent is limited to her room, only the bare trails of it from when she entered and left the apartment. Jin hyung's face shadowed and distraught as he nods, words trailing off.

The last thing I wanted her to feel was trapped, a prisoner within what was meant to be a safe space for her. But it still seemed as if we were all failing in that regardless.

But if that meant I had to keep an eye out on her this way, then that was perfectly fine too. This way I could reassure myself she was having something to begin her day, always intentionally ordering a platter of light foods so I could see that she was eating as well. Because how could she deny it when I complained I'd accidentally overordered, overestimated the capacity of my stomach. How could she deny when after the first few days I could see which choices her hands went to and started adjusting the order accordingly. It soothed my instincts to see her eating, to see a bit of the lost look flicker away as we walked, during conversation, during time together. Even if that lost look of longing returned when her hands curled around a mug, or when she dipped her head into the new scarf she was wearing, into a jumper that seemed intent in trying to drown her into thick material- shaky breaths levelling out as she took comfort from the scents of what was clearly a packmate's clothing. 

But as the week goes by, she doesn't duck her head down as much for comfort- not because of a lack of need but rather it seems as if the pack scent weakens, lightens, gets brushed away with the new scents, with the environment. And I don't miss the way her hands tremble before she puts them into her coat pockets as we stand. Comfortable with me. But uncomfortable with the situation. With being away from pack and the intrinsic scent of belonging that was making her feel at unrest.

And that lost look flickers back with more intensity when conversation peters out, or when I talk about the others- slowly trying to nudge her towards meeting them, to not isolating herself and shutting herself away. The slightly disoriented look clings to her, probably clings to her scent too but the city's bustle disguises it, hides the pheromonal tell and even if she becomes more relaxed around me, slowly beginning to input more into chats, into opening up about herself, it returns in strong waves when I ask about them, falling silent at times and softly quietly murmuring just how much they meant at others.

She was hurting emotionally. And I was hurting with the feeling of failure that clung to me, failure to make her feel settled, to feel emotionally stable. So this was my way of trying to help, to make amends.

This was my way of making sure she didn't get too lost in those thoughts, that she didn't drown in the suffocation I knew she was feeling from being overwhelmed with new scents and new people; most of who were predators.

And it was worth it all. Because I could see she was trying, because every time I dropped her off the smile she gave wasn't forced and when I picked her up her tired, weary body perked up, ears flicking from under her coat hood as she smiled and gave a small wave. Always waved before approaching the car, before opening the passenger door to slide in, a tentative smile as she buckled up. Because somehow she'd noticed that when she sat at the back, I felt a strange sort of restlessness- to keep her in my line of vision to better see her, protect her, an antsy agitation that I hadn't even noticed until she'd sat beside me and told me to stop staring at the rear-view mirror so much.

"How's your day been Jimin?" (Y/N) asks as she buckles in once more, hair curling around her face and hood falling slightly back to reveal ears that flick and settle.

"Same old. Went out on a stakeout." I mention lightly.

No need to say that the stakeout had included roaming to the darker, dingier streets of Seoul, had included worming out information from the people who if given the right price, or the right motivation would divulge priceless information.

Her eyes rove over my face, wide doe-eyes narrowed slightly, before she nods leaning back slightly.

"How was yours?" I ask, glad that I'd had the heating already on, seeing the way she seems to curl happily in her seat, fidgeting with the belt before she meets my eyes easily.

"Same old. Another drink. Still the same old unease." She admits.

And hearing that from her makes that anger flare. Anger that the same old for her means being on edge, being uncomfortable.

And as we drive back, I can't help but turn her words over in my head.

Still uneasy. 

And not for the first time I felt a deep pang of regret and resentment that I couldn't have been one of the undercover officers. Because then her protective detail would've been someone unfamiliar.

And if there was one main goal, one main intention I had through this all. It was to make sure that (Y/N) was kept as comfortable as she could be. To keep her safely protected but also to surround her with people she could know and trust.

I just hoped that with time she would consider opening up to my pack. Because I knew they were willing to be familiar safe figures for her.

And that if she let them in, then she'd find a place to belong, to feel at ease in.

(Y/N) POV:

A week. A week passes.

In no time at all and yet as if each instant had dragged for eons, for an endless infinity that showed no sign of letting me out, letting me escape from beyond it.

It felt silly to consider a week as marking such a monumental change, a shift in my life. But the week was one of the longest and weariest I could remember ever living and enduring. And it felt like Everything I'd known, everything I'd been sure about had been stripped away from me more and more in that week.

A week of tiptoeing around the apartment, of trying to keep out of everyone's way, of thinking and considering of making food, cleaning, doing something...anything to lessen that feeling of uselessness, of taking up space, of being in the personal space of a newly formed pack. I didn't need my nose to tell me just how sparse the scents were becoming in the apartment I was in, the faint trails of soft detergent and vanilla only at their strongest at night, in the late hours where I emerged to silently make my way to the kitchen, to find something to eat- feeling guilty as my hands opened the fridge or reached out for a mug. Maybe if I bought groceries I wouldn't feel like I was leeching off a pack. It was in those instances of hurrying about the kitchen that I find the intertwined scent of vanilla and soft cotton clinging thick to the path Jin and Jungkook took to their room. Found that it lingered in certain parts of the kitchen, weak but there. A constant silent reminder that this wasn't where I was meant to be, these weren't the scents I was used to, or scents I found my heart panging with longing for.

A week of climbing into bed, surrounded by the scents of pack. Of Eunwoo and Binnie's jumpers and soft worn clothes padded around the bed so I could fall asleep, soothed by the scent of home, of pack and of family.

A week and those scents began to lose their potency, began to lose their strength, weakening with light trails of whatever I brought back, of the scent of body wash and shampoo dampening the scent of my packmates.

A week and I found myself clinging to each last weak trail of scent, hands trembling and shaking as I brought the fabric close, cheek unconsciously nuzzling into the thick fabric. Where the familiarity of the cloth is all that's left because their scents don't linger. Where the nesting does nothing to bring me that satisfaction, that feeling of safety and the bed becomes cold and a painful reminder of how alone I am.

But that week brought a new salvation. Brought Jimin not as the officer, but Jimin as a friend. A new constant that was welcomed, was cherished. There was something so soothing about his sweetly clean, sharp minty scent that filtered through the crisp air- through the smell of decayed leaves and brushed away every time I stepped out of the apartment complex, a smile appearing on my lips under my scarf at the way he tried so hard to be casual. At the way he turned to me as if he was truly surprised to see me, even if his lips twitched and his orange ears perked up before I stepped into the line of sight- giving away that he was already alerted to my presence.

And every day brought a friend to walk with, someone who genuinely seemed to have an interest in me, who badgered me with questions with the same excitement as Binnie always did- an infectious enthusiasm that had me smiling, had my answers turning from short worded answers and shakes and nods of my head to sentences. Every day brought Jimin's hopeful expression as he dragged his feet, something endearing about seeing the fox hybrid purposely slow down near cafes and look longingly towards them until I was breaking the silence to ask if we could go in.

If he was shy to ask outright then I'd take that step. And four days into the daily stop to the café I'd realised something. Had realised that he spent far too much time observing and watching from behind his mug then he did eating for all that he seemed to be starving- the petulant pout melting away to a dazzling fangy smile that was just...sweet. But there was also something deceptively pleased and sly about it too, nudging the platter of foods forward after taking some- more intent on pressing me to eat, eyes scrunching up when I nibbled away.

And that something was that it was all intentional. His scent would ever so subtly shift, a sharper stronger waft of mint from over the table, eyes narrowed- sly and expression positively and entirely fox-like with how he grinned. And then I knew. That it was his way of taking care and showing it. Something that made me want to lean towards him and allow him to be that support, made me want to wrap my arms around him a hug and thank him.

Jimin was something that made the week better and bearable. He was something that cut through the thick fog of loneliness and made me feel comforted. He was something that made me even more eager to leave the confining walls of the apartment to get a breath of fresh air. Each lungful of air cool and sweetly minty. 

All it took was a week. And Jimin was worming past defences, was sliding in to make a place for himself. A week and Jimin was determined to not let me wallow in my own misery, trying to lessen it any way he could.

But he wasn't the only one adamant in trying to make the adjustment as easy as possible.

Somewhere I knew they all were adjusting, were all trying to give me space, to not force their company on me- but I longed for company, longed to be part of the loud chatter and laughter that couldn't be hidden despite the thick walls, not to my sensitive ears. But every time I mustered the slightest courage it was shot down by the sinking quickly dawning reality that it was the sounds of a pack bonding. And I was simply an outsider.

The realisation that made me curl up at night, restless and unable to sleep without the comforting scents of Binnie and Eunwoo. Even the scented clothes that the Im pack had given me had long worn off too in its soothing potency. But the long nights were eased away by the soft, deep soothing voice of Suga, someone who's shows I'd begun to grow dependent on once more. Someone who disturbed the cloud of thoughts and eased the panic before it began to crest.

Where Suga's voice kept me company at night, it was Hobi during the day. Whether or not we had a shift together, whether or not I had a day off- Hobi was there, announcing his presence with a bright loud call of my name after breakfast, usually trudging through the apartment to find me and always ending keeping me company in the kitchen. Sometimes in my room. A rare, odd occasion in the living room when I was certain Jin and Jungkook weren't at home, where I wouldn't be stopping them from moving about freely. And it was Hobi who kept me company until I needed to leave, until he was leaving for lunch with a wide-eyed pleading look that silently asked me to come over with him, leaving with a wilted tail each time.

But it was for the best. He needed to spend time around his pack and I simply didn't.

But when he came with a cluster of scents clinging to him, it struck a pang of longing deep in my heart, had my instincts shifting restlessly to be scented too, skin painfully void of the affectionate nuzzles and kisses that I would have to fight off, had to actively try to wriggle out of.

It made me miss my own pack. It made me miss home. It made me miss the routine, made me miss having a place I could comfortably move about in.

It was in those moments that I wondered whether they'd mind if I moved across the partition would it be so bad? Given how much sweet fondness that Hobi, Namjoon and Jimin spoke of their pack with I knew they couldn't be bad people in the slightest. But if one reason didn't hold me back then another stepped into place.

Sometimes it was the look of hurt and sickening guilt on Jin's face; the sight of it too raw, coming to haunt me on those sleepless nights. Sometimes it was that as I tentatively approached the door, having gathered every ounce of courage and resolve something always made me turn.

Sometimes it was the sound of voices incredibly close to the door.

Sometimes it was the thick mixture of scents that constantly drove in the point that they had a bond together. I shouldn't intrude. I shouldn't.

But even so that longing never lessened.

And a week and one day later I found myself back at the door, having turned down Jimin's casually worded offer that he'd love to see me at dinner, accompanied with a flash of eagerness in his eyes, I still found myself torn, resolve quickly dissolving.

Quickly had found myself moving towards the door after showering, a sweater clad hand reaching out for the handle, opening the door in one quick fluid move before I could regret it, before I could change my mind and let my rational mind take over. I let my instincts, the ones pleading for comfort, for something less confining, guide me to open the door, moving forward to step through.

And freeze.

Because when I'd promptly opened the door it had caused the unsuspecting figure on the other side dart back, a deep rumbled growl of alarm and surprise. The sound threatening and sudden, grating on my ears, making me flinch as I grip onto the door edge.

Inside my mind screams with dismay that this is the second time. The second time my nerves have gotten the better of me. That my instincts keep getting the worst of me.

And I watch as Taehyung's ears flatten, eyes narrowed for a few moments before his face clears with understanding, before he's scrabbling to his feet.

I breathe shallowly, urging my feet to remain rooted. Desperately urging myself not to flee. Not to cower away.

They're good people. He's a good person.

Even if his stripey ears and slowly curling tail appears menacing, his face is anything but.

His head cocks, black curls falling to the side with the movement as he regards me before giving me a smile.

Boxy, a flash of teeth, of fangs.

Oddly endearing.

But before I can speak, before I can apologise. He's opening his mouth.

"I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't mean to growl at you. And I most definitely didn't mean to say you were Hobi hyung's work problem. Can we...can you forgive me?" he rushes out, face contrite and hopeful, stripey ears curved inwards slightly, beginning to droop even as his brown eyes peer at me. Darting small glances.

Soft and unthreatening.

I exhale. Dredge my lips up. I can do this.

"Don't be sorry Taehyung. And you never needed to be forgiven. I'm sorry...for being on edge so much. I'm working on that." I admit ruefully, shooting a tentative smile of my own.

Heart being released from its vice grip when I find his responding smile is dazzling, contagious and unrestrained. When it makes a burst of sweet berry scent release into the air. His scent so soft and enticing. Sweet and calming to my senses.

"Does that mean you'll come to dinner?" he asks, shifting on his feet eagerly.

I've barely begun to dip my head into a small nod when his hand reaches out to dart around my wrist, when he's tugging me quickly beside him.

"Great! You're going to love it!" 

And with that I find the divide beginning to blur. Find that crossing the partition just needed an extra nudge, rather an extra pull.

And I'd found it.

(THERE WE GO! I LOVED WRITING PROTECTIVE OFFICER MINNIE SHINE THROUGH MORE AND MORE! AND A TEENSY TIMESKIP SO YOU CAN SEE WHAT HAS HAPPENED IN THE TIME SINCE! AND MINNIE ISN'T AS SLY AS HE'S BEEN THINKING! BABY FAWN IS ON THE CASE! SHE KNOWS WHAT HE'S UPTO BUT SHE'S JUST SO TOUCHED! MINNIE IS SUCH A GOOD FRIEND TO HER! AND POOR LOVE! SHE'S BEEN WANTING TO GO OVER BUT KEEPS HAVING DOUBTS, FEARS, KEEPS FEELING AS IF SHE DOESN'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO INTRUDE! BUT!! SOMETHING AWAITS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER IS ALL I'M SAYING! AND TETE!! OUR TIGER JUST COULDN'T HOLD BACK! HE WANTED TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT! AND HERE IS...THE ONE WHO ACTUALLY MANAGED TO GET HER TO CROSS OVER! SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED AN INSISTENT FRIENDLY TIGER! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND HOW YOU FOUND IT! STAY SAFE AND ENJOY!)

QUESTION...SOMETHING THAT MADE YOU LAUGH OR SMILE?

Mine is....I got quite the case of infectious giggles today! All over names of all things! But Midiiplier my darling, you made my stomach begin to hurt with laughter and I had to silence my laughter so my sanity wouldn't be questioned! I failed but you made me smile the hardest I have all week so thanks for that my love!

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3