It took me a moment to notice that he'd stopped. He looked around, scanning the area with a keen eye, the eye of a hunter. When that gaze passed me, I had an irrational urge to cover my neck, but dismissed it as paranoia. Dark streets and alleyways are really good at producing paranoia. His inspection stopped when he reached the alley, and with hands that possessed surprising strength, he picked me up and placed me behind him. Damn, he had to make this difficult.

The first guy, probably wanting to get the job done before we got help or something, jumped out a moment later, his knife a white slash in the darkness. He made it around two feet towards Joe when a huge black wolf slammed into him and tackled him to the floor.

That would be me. Oh, I forgot to mention that, did I? Well, if you didn't already guess, I'm a werewolf, or, if you want to be scientific, a lycanthrope. Yup, little ole' me. Have been since the day of my birth. No melodramatic story of a wolf attack, or a wolf lover, or anything. That's all a buncha crap anyway. It's a family thing, a pack thing. I was born and raised as a werewolf; it's what I am...

Anyway, after making sure the guy was knocked out cold, I turned to where Joe had been standing. I expected a shriek, a curse or two, or maybe some sort of frozen stance. But I found none of those. He wasn't there anymore. I thought for a second that he had hightailed it, but soon discovered that he was in the middle of the alley, fighting with the remaining muggers. He moved incredibly fast, his legs and arms a blur in the darkness even to my senses. I found out why when I saw his face.

His eyes were glowing, GLOWING, and his smile now had a pair of shiny white fangs in it. I couldn't believe it. He was a vampire. Well, that explained more than it didn't. But he was a vampire, my mind screamed. And he was fighting to save me! That wasn't right. I wasn't going to have him save me, and not do him the same courtesy. I mean, he was kinda hot, fangs or no fangs... So, I jumped into the fight.

It was done quickly. We didn't kill any of them, much to my relief. Just gave them a few bad knocks in the head, which wouldn't do any serious damage, but would leave them with quite a headache. After the last one fell, I trotted over to where my discarded dress lay, picked it up, then proceeded to the darkest part of the alley to become presentable. When I came out of the alley, I looked like any other teenager, though my hair was a bit mussed and the dress wasn't very well adjusted. I was in a rush; sue me.

"What a fine pair we make, eh?" I said when I got over to him.

"A werewolf?" He asked, as if by asking, it might turn out to be different.

"Yeah. A vampire?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm."

"Indeed. What a fine pair..." replied Joe, but when he said it, it didn't have the sarcasm that I'd had. It sounded almost as if he thought it was true.

And maybe, I thought to myself, it was. I mean, he was a nice guy, even if he did have to drink blood, and anyone who loved hot chocolate and a good read had to be a decent hum-er...a decent person. And he was awful polite behind his loser come-ons. And funny. And sweet. And protective. I mean, if he could deal with the fact that I got furry every once in a while, I could deal with the fact that he drank a little red stuff. There have been relationships with greater differences then species, such as religious differences. And pet preference. And how to cook the eggs. This wasn't so hard to work around. It could happen.

I looked at him, and he looked at me. We both looked at the unconscious forms in the alley.

"Wanna see that bookstore?" He asked suddenly, his voice high-spirited, as if the whole episode hadn't happened.

"Sure."

Fin