Archive of Our Own

"…I don't need you to tell me I don't have a place to put my stuff. I know that." Jack paced the office to release some of the frustration of dealing with the moving company.

"The question is: where is my stuff that I don't know where to put?"

He ignored Lupo answering the other line while he continued arguing with a company rep who sounded like she was reading straight out of the customer service manual.

"For you," Lupo's clipped voice cut into the monotonous drone in his ear.

"Can you take a message?"

"No. Sounds urgent."

He really should have expected to be pranked but he'd thought the town jokers might give him a week or two to settle in before they started. Of course, by the time he got done dealing with the nonsense, the buzzing sound of a disconnected call grated in his ear.

"Thank you, Jo." He glared at his deputy and dropped the phone on her desk. "I think I may have lost my last chance of getting my stuff back, because I had to take a crank call about a haunting."

He knew it irritated her that she lost out on a promotion to an outsider. On top of that, she didn't like having another wolf sharing her territory. The handful of werewolves in Eureka preferred to go it alone and Jack knew he still reeked of the L.A. pack who'd helped him adjust to his change.

He'd really hoped they'd move past all that and have a decent working relationship, though. Apparently, it would to take longer than he'd expected.

"I didn't set that up."

"Yeah? I should believe you why?"

She straightened up and her cold glare could probably freeze Lake Archimedes.

"Jack, we're a town full of witches, warlocks, vampires, alchemists and magical creatures no one has ever heard of. Magic is strictly regulated to keep mishaps to a minimum."

He snorted with disbelief, remembering his first trip through town. He'd ended up helping track down an unauthorized golem, the aftermath of which had left him with no choice but to accept a werewolf's bite or die.

Jo rolled her eyes at his interruption, but didn't stop talking. "Everyone knows necromancy, poltergeists and hauntings in Eureka have to be pre-approved and authorized."

"Authorized ghosts, huh? And what about unauthorized ones?"

"There hasn't been an unauthorized ghost since—"

She was cut short by Allison walking in, looking disheveled, a dark bruise starting to swell on her forehead.

"Allison!" He was by her side in a second, an arm around her waist to support her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said and shrugged him off, but accepted the glass of water Jo pressed into her hand, taking a sip before looking at them solemnly. "We have a problem."

#

"I was driving and a kid ran out of nowhere in front of me," Allison took a deep breath, but her voice still shook a little. "I hit him, Jack."

"Where? Did you call an ambulance? Why didn't you call me?"

"He walked away. It didn't even knock him off his feet, but my car is totaled. Henry towed it back to his garage, and dropped me off here so I could report it."

Right. This was Eureka, filled with strange, magical, and, sometimes, indestructible creatures. He had to stop automatically defaulting to human when someone made a statement.

"Okay." He straightened up and settled his hands on his waist. "So, not human. Troll, maybe? There are trolls in Eureka, right? Or maybe a magical… forcefield… thingy…?"

Allison sighed and shook her head but Jo stared at him like he had two heads.

"This was all over the hood of the car and on the road." Allison held up a vial filled with clay.

Jack's throat went dry and he swallowed hard. A trail of the same kind of clay had led them to den of the out-of-control unauthorized golem terrorizing Eureka. Fifteen years in law enforcement, he'd faced the worst humanity had to throw at him. Nothing had scared him like the emotionless, unrelenting, unfeeling attack of the golem Walter Perkins had created to replace his wife.

No matter what Jack had done, it had kept coming. Nothing fazed it, nothing scared it, nothing stopped it. Primitive instincts had clawed at him, insisting he run, hide, escape. But he couldn't. Sheriff Cobb had been seriously injured attempting to capture it and Allison was using every healing skill she had to save him.

And Zoe, who shouldn't have been there, wouldn't have been if she'd just listened for once.

He couldn't run because the instinct to protect was stronger than anything else.

Jack was supposed to distract the thing while Taggart used the superior strength, skill and healing of his wolf form to attack. It hadn't worked out that way, however.

Jack still woke up screaming, the gritty feel of the clay closing around his hand, the crisp edges of the paper he clutched, the wrenching, shuddering agony when the golem tore a chunk out of his side. The silence when he fell, paper still grasped in his hand and the monster dissolved back into a pile at of dirt.

Everything after that was a blur. Allison had used all her strength to save Cobb and they'd tracked the thing too deep in the woods to get to another healer in time. The choice was to bleed out on the ground while his daughter watched or let Taggart bite him and pray he survived the transformation into wolf shifter.

"Carter, are you okay?"

His hand went to his side, where the scar should have been, but he pressed the shirt into smooth skin. His only scar from that night, the only scar on his body at all, was the bite mark on his shoulder.

He swallowed again and forced a sickly smile.

"Clay, huh? Like the stuff…"

Allison nodded. "The same kind Walter used in his deranged attempt to recreate Susan."

"Okay. So possibly another golem on the loose." Jack pulled his shoulders back and nodded. "You said kid, though? Presumably this one is smaller than the last one?"

"Yes. Jack, are you going to be okay?"

No, not really, but no way was he admitting that out loud. "Fine. I have some advantages this time. Jo, go through any strange reports since Walter committed suicide. See if anything could be our mini-golem. And call Henry, let him know I'm going to swing by, right after I check out the scene of the accident."

He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.

The second it clicked closed behind him, Jack stopped, winced, turned around and walked back in to face two knowing smirks.

"Uh, where, exactly is the scene of the accident?"

#

Jack stood next to Henry and, together, they stared at the v-shaped dent in the front of Allison's car. The accident scene had turned up nothing but more dust, tire tracks where Allison had tried to brake and some smudged foot prints leading into the trees. The smell of wet mud and something earthy permeated the scene, but he was still too new to his wolfy senses to risk tracking and getting lost in the woods. Making that call to Lupo was the last thing he wanted to do.

Which left him with whatever Henry could get from Allison's car.

"Is it really another golem, Henry?"

"I'll have to run some diagnostic spells, but the circumstantial evidence is pretty damning."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

Henry laughed and clapped him on the shoulder and dug into the toolbox he used as a portable magic kit. First he sprinkled crushed chalk in a circle around the car. Then he set a small, squat candle on flat a stone, lighting it with a nonchalant flick of his fingers.

Henry stood up and stepped back, raised his arms overhead, closed his eyes and started to chant. The specks and piles of clay dotting the hood rose up and swirled lazily, as if a gentle breeze set them dancing.

After a minute, though, a sharp tingle, like an electric shock, zipped along Jack's skin. The wind outside the circle picked up, until it whipped all around them.

"Uh, Henry?"

Behind them, his Jeep started to go nuts. Lights and sirens and horn strobing and squealing in a discordant symphony. The lights and radio inside Henry's garage joined the chaos and Jack had to throw his arm up in front of his eyes to protect them from the spray of sand and gravel.

"Henry!"

But the mechanic had already finished his chant, lowering his arms and squinting against the assault of light and sound and wind. Inside the circle, the dust settled and Allison's totaled car was a calm eye in the center of a weird storm.

"Crazy. Something's actually siphoning power from the spell," Henry shouted over the cacophony of sound.

"Well then, pull the battery!"

"What?" Henry pointed to his ear.

"Pull. The. Battery."

"Jack, it's magic," he shouted back. "There's no— Oh!" He leaned forward and blew out the candle. Everything went blessedly silent around them.

"I suppose, an energy source is an energy source," Henry shrugged with a grin, then leaned forward to examine the pattern the dust had settled in.

"Did the spell work?"

"Yup. And we definitely have another golem on our hands."

"Can you tell if it's Walter's? Or did someone else in Eureka decide it to play copy cat?"

"Definitely Walter's, I recognize his magical signature from the last time."

"Great. How many of these things did he leave lying around?"

"Hopefully just the one. Look on the bright side, if there was a whole army of them out there, I'd think we'd know about it by now, don't you?"

Jack aimed a narrow-eyed frown at Henry. "Are you trying to cheer me up?"

"Is it working?"

"No. And don't ever try it again. I have enough nightmares."

#

Jack was stomping back to his Jeep after the third dead-end stop of the afternoon when his PDA chirped.

"What are you doing?" Allison asked him, sounding harried and a little more stressed than usual.

"Running down some of those suspicious activity reports Jo pulled for me. I think she's making stuff up, just to see if I'll fall for it." He kicked his boot against the tire. "This is a swamp with a bunch of stones in the middle of it."

"The will o' wisps circle. Vincent's coven likes to celebrate the full moons out there with a bonfire."

"Yeah, well, that was three weeks ago. There's nothing here now. I can't smell any clay over the damp and vegetation."

"How soon can you get back to GD?"

Suddenly on full alert, Jack asked, "Is there problem?"

"Not exactly. The new director just arrived. I thought you should meet him and brief him on the current situation."

Jack had already learned to recognize the tightness in her voice as Allison's tell. "All right, Blake. What's going on? Is the new director an ogre? A dragon?"

How sad was it that, six months ago, the descriptions would be metaphors rather than literal.

"Worse. He's my ex."

"Ex?" Jack choked on the question. "I thought Kevin's dad was…"

The words trailed off when he heard the hitch in her breath. Then she exhaled slowly and he didn't have to see her to know she was drawing herself up and putting herself together.

"He is. Nathan was… we were married briefly, after. It was a mistake that didn't last. He left Eureka for DC and I never expected to see him again." Her laugh was pained but more with regret, than in a broken kind of way, and Jack relaxed a little. "I couldn't be so lucky."

"I'll be there in about ten minutes. Try not to kill him before I arrive."

"Not making any promises, Carter." She hung up abruptly but her humor and equilibrium were back in the sardonic tone and Jack smiled in relief.

He'd given up on his own interest in Allison, now that his instincts told him she wasn't a match for him. The whole mate-for-life thing was a myth, but a werewolf had instincts and a sense of smell that completely changed relationships. The inner wolf was apparently much pickier about partners. Which was good, Jack supposed, since they also seemed to prefer long-term commitments.

So, he and Allison were friends. Just because he didn't want to date her anymore, though, didn't mean he didn't still care about her. If this Nathan gave her a hard time, he'd find himself dealing with an irritated Sheriff.

It took him eight minutes to get there and he didn't even have to use lights and sirens. He found her waiting for him by the elevators, the stress he'd heard on the phone not showing at all, now. While Allison led him through the rotunda and up to the Director's office, he filled her in on what little he'd found, so far.

The new director had his back to them when they walked in, barking orders at a harried looking Fargo.

"Nathan. I want to introduce you to the new Sheriff."

Nathan turned around and the first thing Jack noticed was the eyes. Bright and piercing and intense.

"Nathan, this is Sheriff Jack Carter, formally a U.S. Marshall. Jack, this is Dr. Nathan Stark, one of the preeminent alchemists in the world."

He looked more like a banker. A well-dressed, well-built, good-looking banker. One who smelled like spice and old leather. Jack blinked and stopped himself short when he realized he'd shifted his weight to take a step closer to Stark. To sniff and catalog his scent.

God damn wolf and its stupid instincts.

Wrong time. Wrong place. Wrong person.

"Doesn't talk, much does he?" Then those electric eyes gave him a once over before the firm, full lip curled up one side. "A wolf, Allison? And a newly changed one at that? Couldn't you do any better?"

"Nathan." The sharp, exasperated tone was the same one she used on Carter and it made him smirk a little to see it worked as well on the arrogant new director as it did on him. Then she turned and looked at Jack with the kind of maternal concern that made him feel like a five year old.

"Carter? You okay?"

Jack forced the wolf's reactions to the back of his mind and locked them down. No matter what the wolf thought, Nathan Stark was not his type and he wasn't going to make any more of a fool out himself than he already had.

"Sorry, Allison, it's been a long day."

"For all of us," she agreed, rolling her eyes in Nathan's direction, who raised an eyebrow in return.

"Allie," he drawled her name with mock hurt but she ignored him.

"Thanks for dropping by, Jack. Why don't you go home and get some rest, I'll fill Nathan in on the situation."

Home. Right. At the moment, he didn't even have his own pillow. He ran a tired hand over his head.

 "Yeah, good idea. I'll see you in the morning, Allison." Jack nodded at Nathan. "Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Stark."

He was surprised when the alchemist dipped his head in acknowledgement, a twist of a smile on his lips. "Likewise, Sheriff Carter."

#

Jack managed to find clean sheets for the cot in the cell and he almost convinced himself it was just like sleep-away camp when he was a kid. Except for the bars.

He tossed and turned and tried to find some twisted position that avoided all the lumps and unexpected dips of the too short, too narrow mattress.

The glare of a flashlight raking across his eyes was almost a relief, giving him a reason to get out of bed and hide in wait for the intruder.

When the shadow moved into the cell, Jack stepped forward and barked out, "Freeze. Don't move."

"Evening, Sheriff Carter."

"Fargo." Jack put his hands on his hips, refusing to feel ridiculous standing there in his boxers and thin t-shirt. Fargo was the one out of place. "What do you want?"

"Actually, I'm here to help you. I heard you were looking for a place to stay. I'm involved in a, um, little project that I think you may find interesting."

"Really?" He stretched the word, making sure his disbelief was heavy and unmistakable. "What kind of project?"

Twenty minutes later Jack stared at the door of an abandoned fall-out shelter, wishing he'd stayed in his lumpy bed.

"Behold, the house of the future," Fargo said, pride evident in his voice.

Jack frowned, squeezed his eyelids tight, and tipped his head back.

When he opened his eyes again, the view hadn't changed, but Fargo had already started through the door. Jack reluctantly followed him in and down the stairs. The interior of dingy concrete and half a century's worth of grime wasn't any more reassuring than the outside.

"I'm going back to my cell."

He turned on his heel to leave, but Fargo whined behind him.

"I promise, once you get to know Sarah, you'll love her."

"Sarah? Who's Sarah?"

Fargo ignored him. "Sarah, open door."

Inside was a surprise. Modern and sleek yet comfortable. It looked like something out of the magazines his ex-wife used to read.

"Welcome." The feminine voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Okay, what is that?"

"That was Sarah."

The air in front of the fireplace shimmered and then a transparent figure formed. Hovering about three feet above the floor, she smiled graciously and reminded him of June Cleaver. The perfectly coiffed waves and pale pink shirtwaist dress made her look like she'd stepped out of some classic 50s movie.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff Carter." Her hand twitched, wanting to offer it. Instead, she folded her fingers at her waist and gave him a ladylike dip of her chin.

"Likewise, ma'am," he said automatically, and returned the nod. He turned and stared hard at Fargo who looked smug. At least until he caught Jack's glare. Then he flinched slightly.

"Sarah is a ghost. Through some experimental techniques, she's been imbued with a poltergeists ability to interact with the physical world around her. She can cook, clean, and maintain control of the house environmental systems."

While he spoke, Fargo made his way back to the entrance.

"Sarah, door."

"Wait a minute," Jack stopped Fargo, remembering something Jo had said. "Is Sarah an authorized ghost?"

"Uh, well, I may have started the project without all the relevant forms, but after some, uh, issues, Henry helped me fix it and Allison totally knows, now. All the proper paperwork is filed." Fargo winced when he mentioned Allison. Having been on the other end of one of her disappointed lectures, Jack could sympathize.

Still, this was Fargo. And he'd quickly learned to look beneath the surface in Eureka.

He crossed his arms and put on his best interrogation frown when Fargo stepped through the doorway.

"If this place is so great, why is it sitting empty?"

"Sleep tight, Sheriff," Fargo said with a pinched, false smile. "Sarah, door."

Jack glared at the closed door then sighed and let his arms drop.

"I'm a human guinea pig," he muttered to himself.

"Was there anything I can get for you, Sheriff?" Sarah had faded back into invisibility, but Jack's instincts couldn't stop fixating on the feeling of being watched.

"No, thanks. I'm just going to head to bed."

"Straight up the stairs. There are some peaceful dream spell candles on the dresser."

Jack almost ignored the candles and dropped straight onto the decadent looking bed. Then he thought about the nightmares that plagued him every time he closed his eyes and lit one before crawling under the covers.

#

Jack's eyes popped open in the middle of the night, lights flashing on and off several times before the room dropped back into darkness. His skin prickled and he felt like someone was watching him but the sensation faded quickly. A glance at his watch told him he had a few more hours before he needed to wake up. Shrugging it off as a typical Fargo glitch and happy his dreams had been golem-free so far, he turned over and let himself drift back to sleep.

#

Jack was halfway through the best breakfast of his life when he remembered the odd feeling in the middle of the night.

"Hey, Sarah," he called and she shimmered into sight so abruptly, he nearly dropped his toast.

"Yes, Sheriff Carter? Is everything all right with your eggs?"

"The food is amazing, Sarah. The best I've ever eaten." And he wasn't exaggerating. If he'd known ghosts cooked like this, he'd have moved to Amityville years ago. He had to hold back a moan of pure pleasure every time he took a sip of coffee. Jack wondered if he could get Jo to take lessons… He broke off that thought, knowing even suggesting it would end up with her teeth in his throat.

"Thank you, Sheriff," Sarah patted her hair and preened under the praise.

"I was just wondering if you were in my room sometime last night."

Her expression flattened and her lips pinched.

"Of course not. A lady would never enter a gentleman's bedroom while he was in it."

She sounded so affronted, he hurried to apologize. "Sorry. Just a weird dream. It felt like someone was watching me. I didn't know if the etiquette was different for a… um… a…"

Jack realized he had no idea how to end the sentence without offending her even more.

"I prefer the term non-corporeal being."

"Right, got it," he assured her, though he wasn't even sure he could pronounce corporeal. "You didn't notice any weirdness last night, did you? Someone, or something that shouldn't have been here?"

"No. Well, there was an unusual energy pattern on the second floor, but…"

"But, what?"

"This is Eureka."

"Right. And unusual energy patterns are the norm around here."

Sarah smiled and shrugged unhelpfully. "If that's all, Sheriff, I need to get back to the laundry."

She was already fading, so Jack just nodded and shoveled another forkful of hash browns into his mouth instead of asking how there could already be laundry when he'd only spent one night, so far.

The chirp of his PDA distracted him from chasing the last crumbs around his plate. He checked the ID and answered with a smile.

"Allison, I know we said first thing, but—"

"Jack, Nathan was found unconscious in his house this morning."

His stomach clenched and a very non-human growl threatened in the back of his throat. Thankfully, Allison didn't notice, her own concern over-shadowing his inexplicable reaction.

"He says it's an electrolyte imbalance, but, considering what's going on in Eureka…"

"I'll be right there."

This time, he did use the lights and sirens, and tried really hard not to think about why he felt such urgency to check on Stark for himself. By the time Jack found the private exam room where Nathan was tucked away, he had his breathing and his heart-rate under control again.

He hesitated in the doorway, catching the tail end of a conversation between Stark and Allison. He deliberately tuned out the words, not wanting to eavesdrop, but the tone and body language was the kind of intimate that happened between two people who knew each other well.

He cleared his throat and Allison looked up with a smile.

"Jack. Good. Right on time. Let's go over those reports you were looking into yesterday."

She walked past him as he spoke, and he started to follow her, but Nathan called him back.

Allison gave them both an odd look. "All right, Jack, I'll catch up with you later."

Nathan got off the bed once she left, shirt hanging open. Jack had to force his eyes up to keep from ogling the defined chest while the Nathan did up the buttons. Thankfully, Stark's attention was on the shirt and he didn't notice Jack's gaze wandering.

"I wanted to talk to you about something. Something I'd like to keep between us."

Those inappropriate instincts perked up, again, but Jack knew it wasn't the kind of conversation the inner wolf was hoping for. Even if it was, the outer human knew it was a bad idea.

"I was resetting the protective spells around my house last night and there was an electrical problem with the lights. Then I saw something. A figure."

"Someone was in your house?"

"Something. It wasn't corporeal."

"Corporeal," he stumbled over the pronunciation, thinking of his conversation with Sarah. "Like a ghost?"

Nathan raised an eyebrow and started tucking in his shirt. Which was not distracting at all.

"Sheriff, there are no—"

"Unauthorized ghosts in Eureka," Jack finished in stereo with the director. "I've heard."

Jack was beginning to think, despite the number of times they got quoted to him on a daily basis, authorization and regulations didn't have much meaning in Eureka. Still, it was more than a nuisance now. It had hurt Nathan and some primitive part of him wanted vengeance for that.

"I'll check it out."

#

A week later, Jack slumped at the counter of Cafe Diem, sipping his third cup of Vinspresso. Despite his promise to Nathan, and working himself to exhaustion every night trying to keep it, he'd run into nothing but dead ends. The reports Jo had dug up had led to only empty forests or undisturbed swamps. There'd been no new ghost sightings. No new golem sightings. No new clues at all.

On top of that, despite his best attempts to avoid Nathan, he kept running into him, anyway. Case in point, the director was currently seated in the back booth berating Fargo for… well, Jack wasn't exactly sure what. It involved a shadow creature, a broken mirror and half of Global Dynamics getting quarantined for three hours.

It seemed like a daily occurrence, something going catastrophically wrong at GD and the Sheriff getting called in to investigate it, sort it out, clean it up or redact the person involve. Which meant, every day he had to report to and/or dive for cover with Nathan Stark. And, every day, it got harder and harder not to touch, to sniff, to reach out and cuddle with him.

The alpha of the L.A. pack had warned him touch hunger could be a problem with packless wolves. Especially if the wolf found someone it felt could, and should, be claimed as mate. At the time, Jack had been sure it was an exaggeration.

Now, he knew better.

Somebody sat down on the stool next to Jack and he didn't have to turn to know it was Taggart. He was still getting used to his enhanced senses, but wolf always recognized wolf, and Taggart's bite had made him what he was. Jack was pretty sure he'd always be able to pick out the man's scent, no matter what.

"How's it goin', Jack?"

He turned, to find Taggart's grizzled face and slightly psychotic grin inches from his nose.

"It's been better," he admitted.

The man nodded sagely. "It's hard, getting used to being alone after spending time with pack. Tonight'll be your first full moon solo, won't it?"

Jack blinked and realized he'd lost track of days.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice sounding like gravel in his own ears. He remembered running with the pack. The unfettered joy of chasing, wrestling, curling up and sleeping in a pile. Tonight, he'd wear his wolf form with no one there to play with. "Yeah, it will."

"Are you having any control issues?" Taggart lowered his voice when he asked. Being accuse of losing control was about the worse way to insult a wolf and Jack bristled automatically. He forced down the instinctive reaction though. Taggart felt responsible for Jack's condition, despite saving his life. He was only trying to help.

"Nah, I'm good." Jack waved the concern away and deliberately didn't look in Nathan's direction. His recent control issues had nothing to do with the forced shift he'd experience under the bright light of tonight's moon.

"Good, good. I know it can't be easy, becoming a lone wolf so soon after being changed."

"No," Jack admitted. "It's really not. Even though I wasn't technically part of the pack, they treated me like I was. Being in the middle of those kinds of close-knit bonds, there's nothing in life like it. I don't know how you and the others do it. The way Jo snarls at me and the others avoid me… the wolf feels abandoned."

His words slipped into a whisper so low, he wasn't sure Taggart would even hear him.

But the older wolf nodded sagely.

"Were there humans in the L.A. pack?"

The segue was par for the course with Taggart so Jack smiled and went with it.

"Yeah, a few. Also a dryad and a leopard shifter."

"Exactly," Taggart said fervently as if his point had been made, when Jack didn't even know what the lecture was about. "Pack is what you make of it. I've got Lo-jack to run with. It's a pack of two, but it works for us. Jo used to run with us, sometimes, but…"

The smile slipped into something melancholy and Jack didn't know what to say. But as quick as Taggart's emotions dropped, he was back up, clapping his hands together.

"Not to worry, mate. You'll gather your own pack around you, quick enough. Whether it's made up of wolves or whatever, you, especially, won't be alone for long."

Jack tipped his head back to stare at Taggart. "Me, why?"

"You're an alpha. Alphas need pack. And packs need alphas. It's just the way it is." Taggart stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "Come out to my place tonight, yeah? Lo-jack and I will show you the best place to find rabbits."

Jack thought about running, alone and lonely. A pack of two to chase with sounded like heaven.

"Yeah. I'll be there."

#

Jack didn't exactly lose himself when in animal form. It was just, experiencing the world through the wolf's senses made everything sharper. Clearer. Made it easier to trust those instincts that told you this smell was good or that sound was bad, without worrying about logic.

Running with Taggart and Lo-jack had been fun. The first time he'd really felt settled and at home since stepping foot back in Eureka. But after a couple of hours, he'd caught a scent.

Old leather and spice. He'd dropped back and let the other two race for the rabbit they'd flushed out of cover. Instead, he followed his nose along a hiking trail until the lights of Nathan's house glittered through the trees. He hesitated, the man knowing he wouldn't be welcome, the wolf not believing it.

Unable to help himself, he trotted up to the porch and stretched up to press the doorbell with his nose. Then he sat down on his haunches to wait.

"Well, this is a surprise," Nathan drawled, tilted his head and squinted when he opened the door. "Jack, I presume?"

Jack let his tongue loll out in the best approximation of a grin he could manage and pushed past Stark. He padded his way toward the fire and plopped down in front of it, letting the flames warm away the faint chill of the night from his fur.

Nathan stared for a long minute, then closed the door.

"I guess this means you're staying. I should probably warn you, I'm fresh out of kibble."

Jack let a low growl rumble in his throat then lowered his muzzle to rest on his front paws and closed his eyes.

"Oh, by all mean, make yourself at home," Nathan grumbled and sighed. The he sat back down on the couch and picked up the book he'd obviously been reading before Jack arrived.

The silence was comforting and comfortable and Jack let himself doze off for.

The sound of movement in the room woke him awhile later and he opened one eye. Nathan had gotten up to exchange the book in his hand for another off the shelf. When he settled on the couch again, Jack opened both eyes, stretched in the gratifying way he could only do in this form, then shook out his fur slightly.

He felt Nathan's eyes on him the whole time, but when he looked over, the man's attention focused solely on the book in front of him. The wolf wasn't willing to settle for that. With slow dignity, he walked over to the couch, jumped up and sank into the soft cushions. He used his nose to push the book out of the way, until his head rested squarely in the middle of Nathan's lap.

Nathan lifted the book and glared down at Jack. "Bad dog. Off the furniture."

Jack opened one eye, sighed, dug his muzzle into the leg under his chin and closed his eye again.

The huff Nathan made was obviously an attempt to hide his amusement and Jack knew he'd won.

"Fine." The book settled on the arm of the couch, and the room fell into silence. A few minutes later, Nathan's hand settled on Jack's ruff, stroking idly through the fur.

A shiver rolled through his body, then he let himself melt into the sensation and drift into sleep.

#

Jack woke with a start, squinting against the blinding sunlight and slammed his eyes shut again. He groaned and tried to remember. The morning after the full moon was always a little foggy at first, trying to reconcile the sense-saturated memories of the wolf with the limited experience of the human. Taking stock did nothing to reassure him.

He was on an unfamiliar coach. Buck naked. From the concentration of spice and leather scents, he was pretty sure this was Nathan's house.

Slowly, he slit his eyes open and looked around. Bland, neutral living room. Lots of books. Fire place. Functional, nondescript furniture. The coach he was on and the arm chair across the coffee table. An armchair that held Stark, dressed in perfectly pressed trousers and button-up shirt, smirking at him from over the rim of his steaming cup of coffee.

"Damn it," Jack groaned again and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I don't suppose you have a spare pair of sweatpants and more of that coffee."

"Look to your left, Carter," Nathan's said, his usual bland tone underscored with amusement.

Reluctantly peeling his eyes open, he saw neatly folded pants tossed over the arm of the couch and a second mug of coffee on the end table.

"Thank you," he muttered, hurrying into the pants and ignoring the heat in his cheeks that meant they must be fire-engine red.

Then he took a long, fortifying sip of the hot coffee. Not quite as good as Sarah's but still way better than what they have in the Sheriff's office.

Finally getting the courage to actually look Nathan, he grimaced and waved his hand around in an all-encompassing motion.

"Uh, sorry about… everything,"

"Everything, huh? You mean showing up uninvited and unannounced, getting fur everywhere, and drooling on my couch? Oh, and the unexpected, early morning peepshow."

"Yeah. That."

Nathan rolled his eyes and gave him the ever-present superior look that made Jack want to punch him or kiss him.

"You really need to learn to control the lupine instincts, Carter."

Yeah, he was totally blaming this on the wolf. And maybe rabbits.

"I know. But I only had three months to learn from the California pack before I was transferred here. Taggart's not much on the alpha-thing."

"But you are."

What was it with people saying that lately? Even if it was true, it hurt, the way he longed for a pack of his own. Especially since the wolves in Eureka had no interest in being alphaed.

He needed to get use to being a lone wolf. Quickly.

"Yeah, well, Eureka's not exactly chocked full of joiners."

"Touché."

For a few minutes, they drank their coffee in silence and Jack surreptitiously looked around Nathan's living room. His first impression of bland and generic was reinforced. From the cream walls to the tan furniture everything looked like it was decorated by a service rather than the man.

A small corner altar, complete with half-burned candles and archaic looking instruments seemed to be the only personal touch Nathan had added.

Half-burned candles.

He got up and moved closer to the altar, getting a better look.

"Those instruments are delicate. Some of them are irreplaceable. Please don't touch. Anything."

"Right, no touching." Jack made a show of tucking his hands behind his back. "Were you using candles during whatever hocus-pocus you were doing when the ghost knocked you out?"

"First, it was a protective spell, not hocus-pocus. Second, yes, candles were involved. And third, there are no—"

"Right. Not a ghost. No one conjures a ghost without permission. Tell that to Fargo," he muttered.

Stark stiffened, his mouth tightening into a thoughtful frown. "You don't think Fargo…"

"No. I'm pretty sure Allison put the fear of, well, Allison, into him after Sarah. But it doesn't mean someone else didn't decide to risk her wrath."

He turned around and got his first view out Nathan's window in daylight. He frowned, thinking about some of the terrain he'd crossed to get there the night before.

"Do you have a map of the area?"

"Carter, what are you thinking?" He sounded exasperated, but he was already moving to the bookshelf.

They spread the map out on the coffee table, and things started to look a little clearer. He picked up a pen, drawing lines on the paper. First behind Nathan's house, then his bunker, Henry's garage and, finally, the will o' wisp's circle. When he was done, a small square of forest had been marked out.

"What's there? Anything interesting or important?" Jack

"No. Just Dixon's cave. The story is, she liked to meditate there. But there's no magical significance. Why?"

"One more question, first. Could a ghost use candles or fire as a, sort of, battery to appear?"

"It's possible. It would have had to be someone steeped in necromancy who'd made some magical preparations before his death, but it has been done. The candles themselves would have to be spelled or part of a ritual in order for the spirit to hijack the power, though. Why?"

"Because I think your unauthorized ghost is trying to get to something in there," Jack stabbed the pencil at the square on the map. "He's been siphoning energy to do it."

Jack outlined the experiences and reports he'd been putting together. He bet if he looked at some of those dead-ends again, they'd fit neatly on the map.

"So, can you do a séance, call the ghost? Maybe trap it?"

"I'm an alchemist, not a necromancer."

That made Jack pause when a chilling thought occurred to him. "Wait, Fargo's a necromancer?"

"Fargo is a mediocre warlock with delusions of grandeur."

Jack nodded, the description sounded about right.

"Whatever. I think we're going to need him."

#

By lunchtime, they'd discovered Nathan's living room held more people than Jack would have expected. Along with Fargo, somehow Allison, Jo, Taggart and Henry had all ended up there, as well.

All the furniture had been pushed out of the way and a six-foot circle of candles took up the center of the floor. Three inches outside of that, a heavy circle of chalk ring them in.

Now, Henry, Fargo and Nathan were debating something that sounded like a foreign language to Carter. Every now and then, Allison, Taggart and even Jo would add something to the conversation while Jack twiddled his thumbs.

Looking at the bright light streaming merrily in the windows, Jack cleared his throat thoughtfully. "Uh, guys. Aren't we supposed to do this at midnight, or something?"

"Jack," Henry said his name with the soothing tone that warned him he was about to feel like an idiot. "It was mid-afternoon when we encountered the entity at my garage."

"Right. Never mind." He eased back against the wall, letting his head thumped softly and waited quietly.

Eventually, the discussion ended and everyone stepped back, giving Fargo room to work.

He waved his arm over the circle to light the candles. The chant started soft and slow rising in increments, step by step until Fargo shouted a crescendo, arms snapping up and pointing at the center.

The silence was deafening when Fargo's voice abruptly stopped. Then a faint humming filled the room and the hair on Jack's arms stood on end

The air in the circle darkened and swirled wildly, the candles sparked and sputtered then everything settled out and a translucent form stood in the center looking bewildered.

"Is that…" Allison peered at the figure.

"Walter Perkins," Jack finished, stalking forward. The man had been responsible for the worst night of Jack's life and he'd never gotten to confront him. "What the hell are you trying to do to my town, now?"

"I'm sorry, Agent Carter, but I had to get to Brian. He's all alone and I'm sure he's scared and confused."

"Brian? Is that another golem?" Jack growled. This was his town, now. His territory. He'd protect them with his life and he was furious that anyone, even someone who was dead, would put them in danger.

"Yes. But he's not like Susan, I swear." If he'd been alive, Walter would have been in tears. "She was never quite right. She was my first attempt and I made mistakes. Brian is gentle and good. He'd never hurt anyone. He hasn't, right?"

Carter considered what Perkins said. Brian had been alone and unsupervised for months and the only damage they had to show for it was Allison's car.

"No, he hasn't," Jack answered grudgingly. "But will he, if we approach him?"

"No. Just tell him I sent you. That his father sent you." Walter's voice broke slightly and Jack pinched his lips hard, refusing to be moved. "Tell him that I came back, like I said I would. You'll find him someplace to safe to go, right? You won't stick him somewhere all alone."

"If you didn't want to leave him all alone, why did you commit suicide?" Jack demanded. Leaving Zoe behind was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. But at least she had her mother, and he had vacations. He couldn't ever imagine making a choice that would take him away from her permanently.

Then Walter's transparent form went completely still. "I didn't. I was drowning my sorrows with alcohol, waiting for the authorities to come for me. Someone dropped off a basket full of wine. I didn't know who and didn't care. When I realized something was wrong with it, it was too late. I only had time to finish the spell that allowed my spirit freedom to travel this world before the poison took effect."

"What about the note?" Jo asked from behind Jack's shoulder.

"I didn't write any note. Maybe whoever did was the same one who left the wine," Walter shrugged, seemingly uncaring about finding the truth of his murder. "Will you promise to take care of Brian?"

Jack stubbornly set his jaw but Allison stepped up beside him. "I promise Walter, we'll take care of Brian. He won't be alone ever again. But you have to rest now. There isn't a place for you in Eureka, anymore."

"I will. Brian was my only unfinished business. Now that I know he'll be safe, I can let go."

Walter shimmered, his form slowly fading from the outside in. "He's in Dixon's cave. It's where I told him to go, if anything happened to me."

A few seconds later, nothing remained in the circle, and the candles had burned themselves out.

"Well, I guess we're going for a hike," Jack muttered, pushing a hand through his hair.

Just once, he'd like a nice quiet day with nothing but jaywalkers. He doubted he'd ever get it in Eureka.

#

Jack felt ridiculous, loping through with forest in wolf form, leading a friggin' parade while he followed the increasingly strong scent of clay.

After Walter faded, Allison had made a few calls, and seemed satisfied they could help Brian when they found them. Then there'd been some arguments about who would be going into the woods and who would be staying behind. Jack had lost them all.

He and Taggart shifted into wolf form, Jo reluctantly staying human because someone had to use the monstrous gun she'd brought along. Fargo and Henry and Nathan, armed with mystical looking things, followed close on their heel. Allison insisted on coming along, but hung back, ready to heal anyone who got hurt.

Adrenaline pulsed through him, memories of his encounter with Susan and the terrifying moments when he felt the life draining out of him, the fear he was seeing Zoe for the last time…

All of it twisted up and tangled with the present, making it impossible to relax, to breathe free. The wolf wanted to howl and growl and fight and it took everything he had to stay focused.

Which made finding Brian that much more anti-climatic.

He looked all of ten years old. Or, at least, how a ten year old would look if he'd been lifting weights since birth. Husky didn't begin to describe him. Standing inside the cave, large rock in his hand, young, innocent face filled with fear, Jack's heart lurched for him.

Brian was nothing like Susan, who'd looked like an average, if overly-muscular, adult woman, but who'd had the strength of ten bears. Jack would never forget her eyes, the way they'd been empty of anything remotely human. The way they glittered with blood-lust and unreasoning fury. There had been nothing tentative or fearful about her.

Still, he couldn't risk it. Just because the boy… the golem looked harmless, it was Jack's job to protect his pa- his town. So he moved out in front, forming the first line of defense.

"Stop," Brian shouted, raising the rock a little higher. "Please don't come any closer. I don't want to hurt anyone."

"We know you don't," Allison called, pushing past Jo and Fargo and coming to stand by Jack's shoulder. He tried to nudge her behind him, but she refused to be moved. So much for hanging back.

"Your father sent us."

"Father's dead." The tiny, broken voice cracked Jack's heart open.

"Yes, I'm afraid he is, Brian," Allison said, tone soft, soothing and full of empathy. "He came back, though, like he said he would. He just wasn't strong enough to get to you, so he asked us to help you."

"Help me? How? After what Susan did… everyone will think I'm a monster, too."

"I have friends, they're all a little different, too. They have a commune in Washington and they will welcome you. You won't be alone there."

"Different, how?" Brian asked, suspicion and hope warring in his tone.

"Well, for one, there's a family of Sasquatch who own the land. They've opened their home to a centaur and a bog monster, among others. They know what it's like to be different, even among our kind, and they know how to make it okay. They've created a home and a family and they can't wait for you to join them."

He hesitated another heartbeat or two, but then the rock fell from his fingers and he rushed toward Allison.

Jack tensed, ready to pounce but Brian just wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in her stomach and sobbed with relief. Jack let the tightness unwind from his body and was glad he wasn't in his human form. He had no doubt Jo would never stop ribbing him if he burst into tears now.

#

Back at Nathan's house, Jack snagged the spare sweatpants with his teeth and disappeared into the bathroom to shift and get dressed. One incident of unplanned public nudity a day was enough for him, thank you very much.

He also took a moment to try and settle himself. All the energy from the unused adrenalin buzzed under his skin. His body was on edge and looking for an outlet. Jack needed to get it under control before he did something stupid.

By the time he walked back into the living room, however, everyone had sorted themselves into vehicles and taken off, leaving Jack alone with Nathan. Which was a very bad idea, considering his current state of mind.

"You still, here?" Nathan drawled.

"Yeah, I was changing and… Did everyone leave?"

Nathan made a show of looking around the living room, sarcasm heavy in the slightly raised eyebrow and faint smirk.

"Looks like."

"My jeep is still at Taggart's from when I… from last night. I don't suppose you could give me a lift?"

"Sorry. I loaned my car to Allie so she could take the kid to Washington. Hers is still in Henry's garage."

Jack sighed and rubbed his fingers across is mouth. "Well, I guess I can run."

"You could stay for dinner, if you like."

Jack blinked and Nathan looked just as surprised that the offer had come out of his mouth. Then he shrugged and headed for the kitchen.

"C'mon. You can put a salad together while I throw on some steaks."

Unable to resist, no matter how bad an idea it was, Jack followed him into the kitchen.

They worked in silence for while, Jack washing and chopping vegetables. Nathan fiddling with the steaks on the stove, only a few feet away.

"You're cute when you sleep," Nathan said, breaking the silence and startling Jack. The smile was smug, as usual, but there was something else, something tentative underneath. "As a wolf, I mean. You yipped and your paws kept twitching like you were running. Were you really dreaming of chasing rabbits, like the old cliché?"

Jack had been, actually. But he wasn't going to give Nathan even more reason to laugh at him. Instead, he went on the defensive with a smirk and raised eyebrow of his own. "You watched me sleep?"

"You were in my lap."

He said it with a little too much casualness and Jack's instincts flared to life with hope.

"And you didn't push me off?"

"You wanted me to shove a full grown wolf on the floor?" Nathan laughed, a truly relaxed sound, sharing the joke.

He was too close, to attractive, to open in that moment. And Jack's control was completely shot. Between the full moon and what, to his wolf, was an aborted hunt, everything he felt, everything he wanted, was too close to the surface.

He inhaled deeply in an attempt to rein it in, but the smell of attraction and want rolling off Nathan hit him like a punch to the gut.

Throwing the last shreds of his sanity, and dignity, away, Jack reached out, gripping Nathan by the shoulders.

The kiss was awkward at first, until they found the right angle, found a rhythm they both could sink into. Then it was hot, branding desire and need into Jack's body. Into his soul. Nathan's hands found their way into his hair and held on.

Eventually, the kissed slowed and Nathan pulled back. He studied Jack for a long moment. Too long and too serious.

"You know, Jack, this isn't what I expected when I came back to Eureka."

The words hit him like a bucket of cold water. Of course it wasn't what Nathan expected. Everyone knew he'd come back for Allison.

Jack tried to twist away, step back, ready himself to run. But Nathan held on.

"I didn't say I didn't like it. Besides, Eureka is full of surprises. Usually the unexpected results are the best ones."

He tugged Jack back, mouth punishing and sweet at the same time. He claimed Jack, the way Jack had been longing to claim him with a kiss that was hard and fast and much too short.

Nathan reached behind him, turning off the burner. "Dinner can wait, don't you think?"

Jack nodded, letting his own smirk bloom before pushing Nathan lightly toward the hallway and the bedroom beyond.

"I've always liked steak better for breakfast, anyway."