The Drunk Poet hold your rats doesn't sound as good as hold your horses

Look, with work apron

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Jordan was restocking the bookshelves with new arrivals, taking a break from serving customers at the counter. It was a cloudy, cold sort of day outside, and she was glad to be indoors even if it meant working on a Saturday. She was used to it.

She also felt a little overwhelmed by the music Zeph had playing that day not that she'd mention it. It just felt loud. But maybe that was just her overly sensitive hearing again?

So, with a grimace, she put some new copies of a fantasy series on the shelf and noticed someone in the corner of her eye. Someone... familiar? She squinted at him for longer than was appropriate before she realized.

Randy?

No, Jordan.

"Rigby?" Yes, Jordan.

fit!

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Rigby was supposed to be finding a job, his cousin wasn't letting him stay another month for free and he'd been told he needed to "figure it out". Cuz kept getting pissy that Rigby would borrow his things, or he'd complain about food mess, you know, the usual stuff. It was annoying — Rigby missed having his own place, he missed having somewhere safe to shift, he missed not being bossed around. It was a good idea to look for a job, it wasn't just his cousin who'd benefit. But his cousin had explicitly told him to do it, which threw a wrench in things. A wrench of incredulity and stubbornness that had him putting off the task as much as he could out of pure spite.

So he'd swiped some of his cousin's cash on the way out the door and was looking to spend it on something he absolutely didn't need. He passed by a bookstore/bar/cafe (?tf) and a picture of the milkiest most pretentious looking drink on a sign out front labeled the "Dorian Gray morning" saturday special, with a smiley face next to it. That's the one, it was perfect. Ridiculous, likely over priced, and still probably delicious.

He wandered in and parked himself in line at the counter, hands shoved in his pockets and fiddling with loose change. Then he heard his name. Dense brows furrowed and he whirled around, immediately on guard cause who tf knew him who would be here? Jordan apparently, that girl he'd gone to school with yearssss ago, who had thought his name was Randy that one time.

He gave a half smile, offering a aborted wave from hands still inside his jean pockets. "Hey Jordan," he greeted, but didn't move from his spot in line. What was he supposed to do? It's not like they were ever that close, and he was not a hugger in any way shape or form. So he waited to see if she was gonna try and start a conversation, fiddling with the quarters in his pockets.

Jordan finished putting some of the books on the shelf and looked at the long line. There were already enough people behind the cash today, so she didn't make a move to go help. She'd likely be in the way. Instead, she stayed and was surprised he even remembered her name, honestly. She'd been such a wallflower in school.

Yeah... just in school.

"How are you doing?" She asked and tried not to feel awkward about it. Did he still sell donuts?

Eh, oh. Fuck. Conversation starter. For some reason he didn't feel like being rude and shutting her down, she'd been nice to him before and maybe the rat remembered that. He'd oblige, he stepped out of the line and moved towards her, shrugging as he replied, "I been good, y—"

Biiiiiig screeching halt, the rat had gnawed its way into his chest and the hole was filling with unexplainable dread. With Jordan just in his periphery he'd been alright, but now that she had his full attention something was off. He shut his open mouth and stepped back, trying to urge the rat to stop chewing up his insides. His stomach was starting to hurt.

Running a hand through his short bleached hair he tried to come back from the blanched cheeks and wide eyed expression her wore. "you. How're, you." It didn't quite come out as a question. He didn't know what was going on but it couldn't be Jordan right?

He moved toward her, starting to reply when suddenly something seemed off about him? He stepped away from her as quickly as he'd approached her and Jordan eyed him with concern. It didn't... it didn't click yet like it should have.

Maybe he wasn't okay?

"I'm... okay..." She began, though her expression remained a mixture of confusion and worry. "Are you okay?" Smaller voice.

Rigby had been so caught up in trying to reign in the rat that he hadn't noticed how visibly disturbed he looked. He tried for a smile, be polite, apologetic, be normal. Of course, those things weren't all that normal for him at all, so the reassuring look he attempted was just somewhat confused?

"I'm, yeah I'm fine! I'm good, got the hiccups or something so," he hadn't actually shifted on accident in a while, he'd had time to learn the rat's general wants and needs. When he felt it needed to get out, he'd let it. That made the times where it wanted, much easier to suppress. Why would it want to get out now, and why did it feel like a need.

Hands deeper in his pockets he popped each joint of his fingers until they hurt just a little. Shut up rat.

The hiccups. Had he... hiccuped? Jordan didn't... uh... Jordan didn't think so? But! Maybe it was that? He just seemed unnerved and as far back as she could recall, Rigby never seemed like the type of kid to be unnerved? That was more Jordan's speed.

But, okay! People changed.

"Okay!" She replied, but she wasn't sure how much she believed it was actually okay. That either of them were okay??? "Are you... still working at the donut place?" Change of subject! Yeah! That was better, probably! Kinder.

Oh good! No more questioning on that front, now he just had to keep being normal long enough to exit the conversation. Generally he'd feel fine about an abrupt heel goodbye, but with how strange he'd already been acting he felt like that might just be even more suspicious?? Did she care? MAn it's really hot in here.

"The what? Sorry," he replied like he had no idea what she was talking about. He was too distracted to comprehend the words. A quick glance was stolen back at the line of people behind him but the rat yanked his eyes back front. It did not want it's back turned on her, so whatever had gotten it so spooked had to have something to do with Jordan.

Was he okay?

Um.

Oh. Was she... wrong about where he worked? The donut shop, right? Uhhhh... which one had it been? Or was she wrong?

Jordan watched as he looked at the line and spun back around to look at her.

She was probably wrong.

"It's, um, okay. I was just asking if you still worked at the donut shop?" Did it matter? Maybe he didn't want to speak to her, which was fine! They didn't know each other well enough for it to not be fine.

He was running through everything he knew about being a were, everything he'd been taught and everything he'd experienced. Fuck, he never listened when people told him things. Maybe she was a were now? Like a big cat or something scary? But Nika had never made his rat feel this crazy before, not even that shit ass lion who'd made him poor little innocent him change at the club. This was so different, maybe she was one of those vampires he'd heard about. He'd never run into one, at least not that he knew of. Shit, he was kinda curious. The rat didn't like that, the rat knew that curious Rigby would do risky dangerous things.

"Oh no I dipped town for a while actually I just got back," he said, forcing his hand out of his pocket to scratch at his cheek. It itched. "I—" he cut himself off.

"Are you something?" that would either mean anything to her, or be nonsense. He'd spoken lowly as if it were a secret, but still loud enough she could hear over the ridiculous distance the rat was insisting on.

He left town for a bit. Just got back. Oh, cool. Maybe he was looking for work? Though subconsciously it sort of felt like she shouldn't recommend he try to get a job here?

Especially after he asked a question that made her eyebrows jump.

"What?" How did... how did he know? Did he know? If he knew, that could mean-?

Jordan froze as it dawned on her slowly that Rigby might be... something. Just like she had been something before.

Oh.

"Sorry. Um. No." She lied. Sort of. Was it a lie if she was mostly human now anyway? Be firm here, Jordan! "You should. You should go." A beat. "If you want?" She immediately shrunk back, taking a step away from him. So much for assertiveness.

Her reaction was telling enough, she paled just as much as he had. So she was something, but not a were, not a psychic probably? Or maybe a freaky psychic that made weres feel feral? Nah, he'd already settled on vampire. This must just be what vampires were like.

He scowled at her following words. The rat was nodding yes but stubborn idiot fuckwad bristled. He should go? What did he do? She was the vampire here. "Why?" he asked?

He scowled? Which hurt. It felt bad. Like it made her feel bad. She didn't want to mention she was unturned to a potential shifter. That might... that might escalate things? Nevermind the fact that she shouldn't have to explain. R-Right?

Jordan took a few more steps back, heading toward where she could easily run out the back of the shop if needed. But her gaze for now was on Rigby, looking for signs of a potential shift. His eyes were normal but that didn't mean anything necessarily. He also wasn't sprouting fur yet. Maybe he was something else?

Probably not.

"I just think it would be safer if you left." Small voice. Small Jordan. She felt very small all of a sudden.

Safer? Was that a threat? It felt kinda threatening.

Rigby had liked Jordan, but he didn't know her well enough. Whatever the fuck this was was new territory for him. But he did know how to respond to threats, he did know how to spew vitriol and light fuses he shouldn't. It was his default, a defense that only ever got him black eyes and bloody noses. It was easy, and painfully comfortable.

But for once, "Uh, oh. Okay," it all ground to a halt. He couldn't risk shifting here, he didn't want to shift here. The rat could fuck off, Jordan could fuck off. He fisted the money in his pocket, picking at the corners of the 20 in nervous frustration. "See ya round I guess," he forced out, then sulked towards the entrance to the cafe to leave. Distance between them calmed his rabbiting heart, he'd go buy a pack of smokes instead.

He conceded but Jordan remained tense until he left. Until he was out of sight of the cafe. It felt bad to tell him to go. She felt bad about it. But like. It was better than anyone getting hurt. What if he was a big ol' cat or something? :(

But he was gone and her shoulders relaxed a little as she took a few more steps back, away from the front of the store and toward the back office.

Jordan just needed a moment to let her face fall in her hands and cry. She was okay and she would be okay. But what happened if one day this happened again and she wasn't okay?