“Here?” Quinn called down from the stepladder.

Hopping from foot to foot with uncontainable excitement, Remi replied, “A little to the left, please, Alpha!”

Quinn followed the request, hiding her own smile by facing the pure white wall.

Carla had saved their splatters from the previous week, producing them with a knowing smile once the group had settled. Quinn wasn’t convinced that her efforts were worth keeping or continuing with, but Remi’s card canvas showcased a controlled chaos that Quinn could appreciate. Her eyes drifted to it more and more as the class wore on. Remi was no longer fearful of mess, the mess was all part of her intricate design. In focused silence, that design bled from her brain to the card. Dark shades of blue, purple and grey were highlighted with white flecks. Was it a series of constellations? Flower buds just before the dawn? Tiny shells sparkling through the sea? Quinn couldn’t decide, and it only confused her more to squint. She knew she liked what she saw, though. And she told Remi so as the class was wrapping up.

“Yours is beautiful,” she murmured just over Remi’s head. Her half-curls matched the pretty painting, blue hues had dried the ends into points and the white speckles around her hairline imitated glitter.

“Really?” Remi breathed. She hesitantly stretched out the brush and balanced it on the easel ledge. For a few moments, they both admired Remi’s stunning splatters.

With a clap, Carla thanked them all for coming and urged them to leave the room how they’d found it. The sound just about managed to rouse Quinn from the daze that Remi’s painting had put her in.

“Is it finished?” she asked.

Remi took a few more moments to look over her creation before making her decision. “Yes.”

“Then let’s take it home.”

“And yours?”

“Mine will look best in the trash, I think,” Quinn laughed. Remi pouted, but didn’t argue. She carried her masterpiece home balanced on the tips of her fingers.

Wednesday was a work from home day, so Quinn measured Remi’s painting while she snoozed on the sofa, and used her lunch break to run an errand. Remi didn’t ask where she was going, but Quinn wouldn’t have revealed her destination anyway. When she got back, she hid the frame in her bag until Remi was out in the garden, bundled up in her new coat and sniffing at the crisp air. Then she carefully laid Remi’s work against the glass of a white wooden frame and left it at the end of the dining table for her to discover when she came back in.

Remi’s delight could be heard in every corner of the house. It roused Quinn from cooking dinner, hurriedly wiping her hands on a towel as she moved to join Remi in the living room. A small, round and excited face was reflected in the frame’s glass.

And now they were arranging the perfect spot to display Remi’s art on the living room wall - the one and only piece to be hung in Quinn’s home. She did not like clutter or excessive colour, but Remi’s painting lit up something inside of her. A splattered swirl tore through her at the sight of it.

The moment the piece was placed, secure above the sofa, a proud glow overtook Remi’s entire body. She floated from room to room with bliss bright in her face. And it suited her far too much. It almost pained Quinn to restrain herself from grabbing those soft, sweet cheeks and kissing her every time she passed. How much longer she could endure… Quinn couldn’t think too hard about that question. Her logical side was stressed by it and her instincts were overrun with possibilities.

By Thursday, the new brand partnership had been secured. A ‘smart-sport’ goods company that offered tech to track the body in the form of jewellery. Accessories wasn’t an area that the company Quinn worked for had dabbled in much, so it seemed a sure-fire path to more profit. What better to pair with fitness fashion than fitness equipment? A team of designers formed from both brands would create a line of clothes to match a set of special edition smart products, ideally in time for release in the new year with the ‘new me’ fitness crazes. If the collaboration wasn’t too busy or colourful in pattern, Quinn was tempted to invest in some health tech herself - and even better if she could use her employee discount. Her watch was a cool tool, but these rings, bangles and necklaces claimed to track all kinds of mind-blowing metrics. Humans never thought anything was impossible. With enough resources, no dream was out of their reach. Werewolves, as proud as they were of their natural superior strength, had the opposite mentality: fear change, don’t attempt anything new, something always can and will go wrong. Looking around her at the meeting taking place, discussing possibilities and plans for the future, Quinn realised that her people were the equivalent of cavemen’s dogs. The cavemen had evolved, their mutts hadn’t.

The directors announced they would be celebrating the partnership with a team dinner that night, and everyone was expected to attend the free meal. With a few taps on her watch, Quinn had Assistant let Remi know as all the staff meandered back to their offices. It wasn’t ideal, but it was only a few extra hours. She dropped into her chair, unsure what to do now that she’d completed all of her work. That was the issue with data analysis, you couldn’t get ahead of your workload because the data didn’t exist yet. Quinn straightened her few desk accessories and wiped at any dust she found with a tissue.

At the opposite desk, Jordan was typing with a bounce to her fingers. The combination of getting out of the office early, a free fancy dinner, and permission to expense a taxi home had her buzzing with energy that she never had this late into the day. She pulled up the restaurant menu on her screen and dictated every dish across to Quinn. Apparently, she also had nothing else to do for the working day. She guessed Quinn would order the smoked salmon to start, she was correct. She guessed Quinn would choose the duck dish for her main meal, correct again. And finally, no dessert. Jordan was three-for-three on her knowledge of Quinn’s palate. It was scarily impressive.

Quinn guessed Jordan would have something sweet for her starter, maybe the melon balls or the spiced honey bread. Jordan only gave her half a point because she refused to choose between the two, but she would be having the melon. For her main, Quinn didn’t have a clue. She picked the beef and was wrong, Jordan pouted and said she wanted the duck, too.

“I thought we were guessing what choices we would make, not telling each other what to have,” Quinn reminded her, lightly teasing.

“I just thought you’d know me better,” Jordan said sulkily.

Quinn laughed. “I’ve never seen you eat duck!”

“I’ve never seen you eat it either but I knew you’d pick it because it comes with the vegetables you like.”

“Oh.”

“It’s just a stupid game.” But Jordan’s laugh was awkward as she said it. “Come on, final choice - what’s my dessert?”

“Uh, the cake?”

There was a slight delay, then Jordan huffed. “I guess you know me after all.”

Quinn tried not to sigh with relief, she didn’t know why she’d suddenly felt so much pressure to answer correctly. It seemed important to Jordan that she got it right, though.

All departments filed out of the building and into the car park at five, and those who intended to drive made themselves known. Quinn ended up with Jordan, two ladies from the sales department, and the head of IT support crammed into her car. They all cooed over how clean it was inside and the saleswomen admitted the floors of their cars were filled with their children’s discarded fast food packaging. The head of IT support admitted it was her own fast food packaging that piled up in her car. Quinn nodded along with their conversation, while Jordan was unusually quiet, until they reached the restaurant.

The food was fantastic. Although Quinn usually preferred her own home-cooked meals - and the knowledge of every ingredient that was included, she could admit that there was an artistry in the dishes she ate that night. Something special in every bite that she could never reproduce. If Remi weren’t so petrified of humans, she’d come back the next night and order the exact same meal again, but doubled. If her salary allowed it she’d return every night for dinner.

When the time to order dessert came, Quinn relented at the directors’ insistence and took a coffee. Beside her, Jordan ordered the carrot cake, much to the surprise of the man one chair down. Quinn was semi-certain he was from accounts.

“Didn’t you see they have affogato?” he called along to her. “That’s your favourite!”

“Uh, yeah, the cake just sounded really good.” Jordan handed over her menu with a mild smile, unlike her usual sugar-expectant excitement.

Quinn stretched her hand to the waiter as they went to move away. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise there was affogato - could I get that for dessert?” She smiled apologetically. “I don’t know how I missed that!” The table laughed, just as surprised that Quinn would partake in ice cream as Jordan turning it down.

Once everyone had ordered their final course, the directors made a brief speech thanking everyone for their hard work in the weeks leading up to the brand partnership meetings and apologising for any stress they had suffered. The atmosphere was merry, the entire company seemingly forgetting any difficulties in the face of free food and alcohol. Most of the table had a rosy tint to their cheeks.

When the desserts were dispersed between the group, Quinn waited until the moment the waiter had turned away and traded her bowl with Jordan’s plate. Neither of them said a word more about it. The carrot cake wasn’t bad, but too sweet for Quinn’s taste. The rich coffee helped.

Quinn was the only sober person remaining with the group awaiting cabs outside the restaurant, everyone else had driven away already. She stood with Jordan, listening to her teeth chatter, while she watched the tiny animated car on her phone screen slowly approach.

“Are you sure you don’t want my jacket? It would take less than a minute for me to get it from my car.”

“I’m f-fine,” Jordan assured for the third time, and each word could be seen in the air as it puffed out of her.

The car arrived, Quinn opened the door for her, Jordan slid in with a groan of appreciation for the warm interior, and Quinn closed it with a nod and a wish to get home safely. Jordan waved through the window until the car was out of sight.

Tipsy colleagues bid her goodbye as she made her way back to her own car. Inside, the dashboard clock reminded her that while she had been out having the most delicious meal of her life, Remi was home alone. A guilty after-taste tickled her tongue.

The restaurant wasn’t too far out from the office, and Quinn swooped into her drive in just over twenty minutes. No light shone through the closed curtains and Quinn frowned on her approach up the path. It wouldn’t be that strange for Remi to have taken herself to bed, it was almost ten.

Quinn crept into the house, doing her best not to disturb any slumber upstairs. She walked through the living room first to dump her bag, but halfway through the pitch-black room she froze. Something was moving, a continuous wobbling, on the sofa.