Dennis #2
Ted popped his head out of the walk-in pantry and gave her a cool look. “I don’t think it’s fair to pigeonhole all humans like that. Most of us have pretty good self-control.”
“Yeah,” Randy agreed, a bag of paper napkins in his hand. “Like, my brother pisses me off a lot but I can’t just haul off and punch him, you know, or else I’d get yelled at. So I gotta self-control myself.”
Ronald, who had been lurking just outside the pantry door, probably trying to avoid doing what work he could, sneered. “Yes, we know humans have violent tendencies. Which is exactly what my dear Rowena meant about self-control. You start wars and attack each other. Not exactly controlled.”
Bjorn snorted at that. “As if shifters don’t fight each other all the time? C’mon, Papa. I mean, we still let people get jobs in the den by beating up the previous person in that position.”
Rowena hissed repressively, but at a glare from Dennis, she ducked back into the fridge, scribbling on the clipboard as if it were the most interesting thing ever.
“Pack challenges are really a thing?” Juliette asked. “I mean, I guess they’d be den challenges. But like, those do exist? I kinda thought they were just in books.”
“What kind of books have you been reading?” Randy teased, and Juliette flushed.
“I mean, they appear in all kinds of books that feature shifters,” Ted contributed, voice muffled by the pantry he was still deep within. “And Juliette can read whatever she wants, Randy.”
Randy made a playfully resentful face. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But so, ok, tell us about the fights!”
Bjorn opened his mouth, then startled when his mother pointed at him and snapped, “No!” Bjorn blinked, and Rowena went on, “Your father told you, we do not discuss den business with humans.”
“Ah, that’s bullsh- crap,” Bjorn corrected himself, glancing at the teenagers.
Randy grinned. “You can curse. Believe me, we’ve heard it all.”
Ted emerged from the pantry long enough to scowl and say, "No, he can't, Randy. Come on, guys, make my life a little less stressful for once!"
“Well, then,” Bjorn said, hiding a smile, “it’s bull…
hockey. Position and rank challenges are a well-known thing, Mom.
Basically you can get a position in the den one of two ways: be assigned it by the alpha, which is how it happens most of the time, or challenge the person already holding that position to a fight and win.
I mean, they’re not death matches or anything,” he added hastily. “It’s just until someone gives in.”
Dennis hadn’t known this. He wondered whether Ronald had fought his way into his position or earned it somehow.
Ronald was reasonably muscular, if going a bit to fat in the belly, and Dennis thought he’d probably have been a solid fighter in his youth, but somehow he couldn’t picture the guy with a stick up his ass rolling in the dirt with another person.
He made a mental note to ask Bjorn when they were alone again.
“Again,” Ronald said, “control. We don’t kill each other. Unlike humans.”
Dennis was getting just a little bit pissed about them harping on how violent humans were.
Like, ok, sure, wars and stuff, but it wasn’t like the bears couldn’t be assholes, too.
He was sure they had had wars and other stupid conflicts.
He scrubbed harder at a crusted patch on the counter, biting his tongue against the urge to retort out loud.
“You sound like you don’t like humans very much,” Randy commented thoughtfully, stuffing a pile of napkins back into the cabinet.
“We don’t associate with humans much,” Ronald corrected tightly, making a note on his clipboard when Ted called out a number to him. “We prefer it that way.”
Juliette looked at Bjorn and Dennis with wide eyes, looking a bit wounded. “Why?” she asked.
“Speak for yourself, Papa,” Bjorn told his father, patting Juliette reassuringly on the shoulder. “Plenty of us hang out with humans all the time. My mate is human, in case you forgot that.”
Dennis felt a happy little shiver go through him at hearing Bjorn refer to him as his mate. Oh, man, he was going so soft.
Ronald shrugged and jotted something on the pantry’s clipboard. “Humans are…different than us.”
Randy didn’t look persuaded by that. “Girls are different from boys too,” he pointed out, “and I still hang out with girls.” He glanced at Juliette out of the corner of his eye. “I feel like hanging out with people who aren't just like you brings something to the table, you know?”
Rowena sniffed from the fridge. “You wouldn’t understand, I’m sure.”
Ted appeared from the pantry with an audible stomp and crossed his arms authoritatively, glaring at the back of Rowena’s head.
“Ok, that’s enough, Ronald, Rowena. I know you guys aren’t here entirely voluntarily, but we do have a non-discrimination, anti-slur policy here at the center and you’re pushing it.
You are entitled to your beliefs, but you are not entitled to impose them on others.
Especially on kids who are here to help you. ”
Ronald made a resentful noise. “They’re not ‘beliefs’.”
“Oh, they absolutely are,” Dennis couldn’t keep himself from throwing in.
“I've been hearing about bears' attitudes toward humans for days, from your son, from your mother, from your alpha, and now from you. And let me tell you, everyone's are different, but yours are particularly wrongheaded. But hey, let’s ignore that for a second. Let’s pretend you’re one hundred percent right that humans are inferior to shifters; if we’re that violent and dumb, what do you think is likely to happen if you tell us that like a giant dick, especially with your attitudes? ”
Rowena slowly shut the refrigerator and turned to raise a supercilious eyebrow at him. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s not a threat,” Bjorn said, throwing up his hands despairingly. “It’s common sense: don’t antagonize violent two-legged monkeys.”
“Or what?” Ronald retorted. “They’ll beat us?”
Bjorn sighed. “For one thing, they’ll stop patronizing your businesses and your den will lose money and your alpha will start looking for causes, bring in an outside consultant, and put you on behavioral probation because it turns out you are the problem.”
Both of his parents gaped at him. “Excuse me?” Rowena said after a long second, sounding stunned by this revelation.
Dennis couldn’t help his snort of disbelief. “Why did you think he went through all of the effort of forcing you to come here?” he asked them.
She blinked back at him. “I suppose I hadn’t really thought about it,” she ventured slowly. “It didn’t really matter; it was an order from Alpha.”
“So if he ordered you to stop being priggish bigots, you’d stop?” Dennis challenged.
“We are not -” Ronald started with a snarl.
“Ok, enough.” Ted’s voice snapped through the room, cutting off both sides of the argument. “This is not where you come to iron out your disagreements. We’re here to work. You can talk about the whys on your own time; my concern here and now is that you don’t discriminate against my kids.”
“And if we don't stop? Will you remove us?” Did Ronald sound…hopeful? Ugh, asshole.
Ted gave him a tight smile. “No. But I will remove you from this task and put you on something you’re likely to enjoy less. Like scrubbing toilets.”
The teenagers, who had been watching this whole exchange open-mouthed, snickered. “That’s the worst,” Randy chipped in. “It’s where he sends the people who really piss him off.” He grinned. “I had to do toilets once when I got in a fight. It sucked balls.”
Ronald looked like he’d sucked on a lemon as he thought about this. “Very well.” He somehow managed to make his agreement sound like a sneer. “Can we just perform this task without conversation, then?”
“Nobody said you had to talk,” Dennis pointed out. “You can easily not say a word other than what you need to do the inventory for the rest of the time you’re here. But the rest of us aren’t going to stop chatting just because you’re idiots.”
Rowena made a noise of outraged disbelief and looked at Bjorn. “Are you going to let your mate talk to us like this?”
Ted turned an exasperated look on Rowena, then Ronald, then faced Dennis. "How are you at handling toilet brushes, Dennis?" he asked in a threateningly pleasant voice.
Dennis shut his mouth, but the kids were distracted and carried them nicely off the topic of the argument: “Wait, when you said 'mate', did you mean he's, like, your fated mate?” Juliette broke in eagerly.
“There's a difference, right? I bet you're fated; you seem like a really good couple.” She patted Dennis on the shoulder in congratulations.
He couldn’t hide his smile at that, both at her naive enthusiasm and at being openly referred to as Bjorn’s fated. When had that become something to be proud of rather than something to worry about? “It’s pretty cool, yeah.”
“So, tell us everything,” she urged, somehow managing to ignore Bjorn’s parents’ continued glowering. “Was it like in the books, where you met and a flash of electricity ran between you and you knew?”
Dennis thought back to encountering a naked man eating a fish and his what the fuck reaction, and laughed. “Bjorn says he knew. I definitely didn’t.”
“Hmph.” Rowena turned back to the fridge, muttering about humans and ignorance.
Bjorn rolled his eyes at Dennis, who shrugged back. At least she was muttering it now rather than saying it at full volume.
“So are you going to get married?” Juliette asked. “Wait, do shifters have weddings?”
“Sometimes,” Bjorn said. He glanced at Dennis. “We could do it if Dennis wants. I wouldn’t mind. But for most shifters, the bite and the bond are what they care most about.”
“Ooh, can we see your bite?” Randy asked, craning his head to try to see Dennis’s neck.
Self-conscious, Dennis slapped a hand over his bare neck. “Uh…”
“We haven’t completed the bond yet,” Bjorn said with what seemed like a deliberate evenness to his tone. “We’re…getting to know each other.”