In Time RP (Polo!)

Toby kept frowning at Myles until he was certain that he was worrying about nothing, and he looked away, nodding in contentment. As long as he wasn't unknowingly hanging without a guy who was hiding a panic attack, which wouldn't be good.
"Besides, you were the one with a broken bottle at your throat. Stupid ghetto." Tobias pulled a face. How was that the ghetto's fault? "Always making me worry... I'm gonna get wrinkles at this rate!"
Toby nodded, then he seemed to realise what his heard, and he stared at Myles with a confused frown. "Wait, what?"
Myles gestured to his face. "I'm not getting wrinkles, am I?" Tobias was about to peer at his face as instructed, but Myles seemed to realise that he no longer aged now he'd reached 25, and thought against it. "Oh, wait... I forgot, I'm done ageing." He lengthened his stride and strutted down the street, seemingly happy with this result, and he jeered happily to himself.
Despite his night, Tobias felt himself smile slightly at the bizarre man in front of him.
"You are certainly... Original, Myles." He mused, shaking his head in amusement. "And this is you before coffee..."
Rolling his eyes, he pressed forward into a jog and shoved Myles aside playfully, then spun round so he was jogging backwards down the road.
"So..." He challenged, slowly down to a walk. It was cold, he didn't want to be out long, and he needed something to release the stress he'd gone through that evening. "You say you can run?" He grinned, wide, for the first time that day, and cupped a hand in a 'come' gesture. "How about we put that to the test, shall we?" The smile sank from his face, but his eyes sparkled daringly.
"The cafe is just round that corner. Last one there's paying."

Griffin folded his hands behind his head, smiling cheerfully to himself as he stared up at the moon, spitting its silver light down onto the cold, cracked asphalt underfoot. It was a beautiful night, with a clear sky like black velvet, and the little pinprick stars shining through, making a canvas of the heavens. It was impossible to stay worried on a night like this, so Griffin was glad to let the incident with Cal and the gang slip far from his mind. It was not his problem, in any case... But if he was to be perfectly honest, he was still a little concerned; not for himself, but rather for the quiet man walking along behind him.
You have an awful lot of people after your head, don't you Toby? Hell, you're taking one of them for coffee right now.
He dropped his arms back to his sides when he heard his friend's voice, and glanced back over his shoulder to listen.
"You are certainly... Original, Myles." Toby pointed out, looking almost indecently amused. "And this is you before coffee..."
"Oi!" Griffin scowled, jabbing a finger in Toby's direction, "I resent that! That's just a polite way of calling me a weirdo, you ass." He stuck his tongue out childishly, but this only earned him a playful shove from Toby, and Griffin couldn't help but laugh as he stumbled sideways. Once he'd caught his balance again, he looked up to find his friend jogging backwards, a stupid grin on his face.
"And I'm the weird one...?" He muttered, subtle dimples forming in his cheeks as his smile stretched wider still.
"So... You say you can run?" Toby raised a hand in a challenging gesture, and Griffin's eyebrows quirked upwards in response. Was he really going there?
"How about we put that to the test, shall we? The cafe is just round that corner. Last one there's paying."
Expression darkening, Griffin let his smile morph into a deadly grin, and muttered deviously, "Oh, you're gonna regret this, Superman." He stopped, briefly stretching his arms across his chest to warm up, "Better get your cape, Buddy."

And with that, Griffin was off. He smacked Toby in the back of the head as he passed, uttering an impish little cackle, and glanced back over his shoulder to pull a stupid, teasing face at his friend. Then he faced forward, and suddenly, the race was on.
With the icy night wind whistling about his ears and whipping his hair out of his face, Griffin sprinted down the street, the rough asphalt bit into the worn soles of his shoes, and every now and then he would trip over a crack in the road, else slide on some loose stones lying innocently on the ground, but every time, Griffin would catch his balance in an instant and press on, rapidly opening the distance between himself and his companion. He ran like a gazelle, springing off his feet into a remarkably long stride, his light frame effortlessly defying gravity to fly on through the night.
There were many things that Griffin could not do, especially physical ones, but running was definitely not one of them.
Steaming from the mouth like a dragon, he skidded around the final corner, almost losing his balance, and his momentum carried him right through the turn and past the door of the cafe. With a nervous little yelp, Griffin reached out for a streetlamp on the sidewalk, and ended up whipping around it once before finally coming to a halt, laughing and panting all at once. A dull yellow glow invaded the darkness, and Griffin looked up to see that the streetlamp he was hugging had come back to life, flickering wearily as it halfheartedly defied the gloom. He gave the cold metal a pat as he released it, hearing the sound of running footsteps rounding the corner.
When Toby arrived, he stepped forward, grinning, arms stretched wide in a gesture of victory.
"All hail the champion!" He jeered, flouncing up to Toby and giving his hair a playful ruffle, "I think I'll order the most expensive thing on the menu," He winked, "Just for you."
Flashing a grin, Griffin gave Toby an affectionate slap on the shoulder, obviously in high spirits after a good run. He was always wound so tight with pent up energy from his long days in the office that there was no greater relief than a good race to get it out of his system.
"God, that was fun! I really needed that." He glanced at his friend, his wide green eyes shining with joy, and added cheekily, "Thank you, Superman."
Without waiting for Toby, Griffin shoved open the door of the cafe, and strutted in like he owned the place. He didn't bother to hold the door for his friend, but instead made his way over to a table in the corner. He pulled out a chair, and slumped down heavily in it, looking wearily pleased.
When Toby entered, Griffin smiled, and kicked out the opposite chair for him, his face lighting up instantly. In the gloomy, overworked ghetto, Griffin's fresh energy was as out of place as a chicken on a safari.

Before Toby could argue for the hundredth time that he was no 'Superman', Myles had jumped forward and smacked him playfully in the back of the head.
"Hey!" He barked, but Myles was already set off at a record-breaking sprint down the road, kicking up dust as he went. "Oi, asshole!" Toby snapped after him, but it was too late. If he wanted to win at all, he'd have to start running.
Grumbling under his breath he jumped forward, but it took a few strides for him to reach his full speed. His heavy feet hammered on the dusty road, and he felt like he was speeding, but no matter how fast his legs would go he could not seem to catch up with the athletic young man. In fact, if anything, he was losing him.
Cursing to himself he pushed his body forward. But his body was meant for power and strength, not running, and the weight of his body mixed with his inability to sprint as fast as he first thought slowed him down.

By the time he had arrived at the coffee shop Myles had already made himself at home at the lamp post that loomed over the street like a dozing barn owl. At Toby's arrival Myles opened his arms out, victorious, and shot Toby a smug grin.
Toby bent over himself to catch his breath, waving away Myles' gestures with a flick of his hand.
"I'll... Beat you... Next time..." He panted. Evidently, he needed to start working on his athleticism. Especially if he ever had to run from anyone again, like he had most of his life.
If I can't, I'm in trouble...
Too tired to worry further about this, he straightened up when he felt a patronising hand messing up his hair, and attempted poorly to straighten it up again. "I think I'll order the most expensive thing on the menu," Myles winked, "Just for you."
Toby glowered at him. But he couldn't argue. It had been his idea, after all.
"God, that was fun! I really needed that. Thank you, Superman."
"I'm so going to kill you." Tobias growled, but he was far too puffed out to act on his words.

He followed the man tiredly into the coffee shop, and slumped into his seat, still gasping for his breath.
"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," He teased, "Because my limbs feel like a sack of potatoes. I need to start running more." He picked up the menu and tossed it at Myles' face. "Choose what you want, but I'm not getting up to order. Get me an extra strong black coffee whilst you're at it."

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Toby puffed, "Because my limbs feel like a sack of potatoes. I need to start running more."
"That you do." Griffin agreed, making a clumsy grab for the menu that Toby tossed at him. He managed to clap it between his hands, but he almost tipped his chair over in the process.
"Choose what you want," Toby went on, clearly oblivious to Griffin's far-from-graceful battle with the menu, "But I'm not getting up to order. Get me an extra strong black coffee whilst you're at it."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Griffin answered, finally managing to settle his chair back onto its four legs as he slapped the menu down on the table, "You're the one that wanted to race. Can't say I didn't warn you." He flashed a wink, and patted Toby's cheek with the menu, grinning at the subtle clapping sound that it made.
Springing to his feet like a jack-in-the-box, Griffin grabbed the menu and trotted over to the counter to place his order. He waited there, leaning on his elbows and drumming his fingers boredly on the countertop, until a young woman approached him. She had frizzly brown hair held into a messy bun by a pair of chopsticks, and a dirty apron covered her busty chest. She scowled at Griffin with dark-ringed eyes.
"Yeah?"
Griffin quailed shyly away from her harsh gaze, and offered a hopeful smile. "Long night?" He asked sympathetically.
Seemingly surprised by Griffin's interest in her life, the waitress sighed, and muttered, "Yeah, I suppose. Can I get you anything?"
Comforted by her slightly friendlier tone, Griffin placed his order, and when he smiled at the waitress again, she actually smiled back, blushing slightly.
Oblivious to the impression he'd made, Griffin took out his phone and started playing games while he waited for the waitress to return. Soon enough, she was back, and Griffin accepted the two coffees with a murmured word of thanks.
The woman's eyes followed Griffin intently as he carried the two Styrofoam cups - one bearing a little drawing of a heart and the digits of a phone number - back to the table. When he failed to notice the woman's flirting, she vanished into a back room, looking every inch as miserable as before.

"Here you go." Griffin chirped brightly, handing one cup to Toby and keeping the other for himself. He set it down on the table, then shook in some salt, and stirred it with a spoon, blowing softly on the surface to cool it.
"So," He took a sip of his coffee, smiling at the salty taste, "We haven't really talked much, have we?" His bright green eyes found Toby's, searching his face with friendly curiosity, "What's your story, Superman? Are you from some other planet or something?" Griffin took another sip of his coffee, and added with straight-faced humour, "I'm pretty sure road drills are your kryptonite, so I'll remember that if I ever turn to the dark side and decide to destroy you."

Tobias regarded Myles with a cock of his head. He couldn't really complain. As Myles said, it had been his idea.
But when he was patted with the cheap, laminated menu he scrunched his face up as if to protect his eyes and mouth from touching the dirty leaflet, but it didn't work. Once Myles had got up to order Toby could only try and attempt to burn a hole in the back of his head with his glare.
When he realised Myles was going to be a while, he picked up the menu and pretended to take interest in what they cooked for breakfast times and any good deals they had for dinner. He had to admit he was hungry, but with a night full of nightmares waiting for him he wasn't sure he wanted anything in his stomach.

After what seemed like too long Myles finally returned with the coffees. Tobias didn't notice the scrawling on one of the cups, and just took his black coffee gladly. He poured what was probably one too many sugars in, mixed it, and gulped down a mouthful. It was hot and burned his gullet, but he welcomed the comforting feeling it brought him.
Myles sprinkled on some salt - which Toby was beginning to think was a habit for him - and glanced up at Toby with his bright, sparkling green eyes.
"We haven't really talked much, have we?" He said between sipping his coffee. Toby frowned at him. As far as he knew they'd done nothing but talking... "What's your story, Superman? Are you from some other planet or something?"
Tobias shook his head, smiling slightly. If Myles kept the 'hero' thing up, Toby would be forced to hit him.
"I'm pretty sure road drills are your kryptonite, so I'll remember that if I ever turn to the dark side and decide to destroy you." Myles told him matter-of-factly, his face comically serious.
"You could try." Toby replied, sipping his coffee in a business-like manner. "But believe me, if Cal can't do it then neither can you." He teased with sparkling eyes.
"But no... Oh no you don't. We've talked enough about me." He said seriously, sitting back on his seat and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Tell me about you."
Mostly because I don't like talking about myself. That's my business.
He leant forward then, leaning his elbows on the edge of the table. "Go on, then. Spill. I don't like hanging out with strangers. Tell me a bit about yourself." He leant forward further and prodded Myles firmly in the middle of his brow. "What's going on in that weird head of yours?" He smirked.

At Toby's response, Griffin couldn't hold back his laughter, and ended up snorting hot coffee all over himself. Yelping, Griffin wiped the hot liquid from his face with a napkin, still quietly chuckling to himself. He couldn't help it, the irony of Toby telling him that he couldn't take him down when he was, in fact, perhaps the only man who could was simply the height of amusement for Griffin. Where else did you get comedy like that?
Grinning, he shook his head, taking another gulp of his revolting, black brew.
"But no... Oh no you don't. We've talked enough about me." Toby objected suddenly, leaning back as he shifted the spotlight to Griffin, "Tell me about you."
Eyes wide, Griffin stared at Toby for a moment, looking rather like a hamster with his cheeks filled with coffee. Swallowing the bitter mouthful, he pulled a face.
"You don't want to hear about me. I'm boring."
Ignoring his objection, Toby leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table. "Go on, then. Spill. I don't like hanging out with strangers. Tell me a bit about yourself." Griffin grunted in surprise when he was poked firmly in the brow, and quickly scrubbed at the spot with his fist, shooting Toby a glare.
"What's going on in that weird head of yours?"
"You mean besides plotting your death?" He grumbled, taking another swig of coffee, "Well, I hate rats. Hate them." He shuddered dramatically, "Which is why you, sir, are a complete ass for leading me into that alley the other day." He brandished his coffee spoon viciously at Toby, and when he noticed flecks of coffee flying off it to splash his friend in the face, he shrugged and licked the spoon, then tapped it absentmindedly against his chin as he mused, "What else is there...? Let's see... Well, I like salt with pretty much anything, as you might have noticed. I don't even care if it kills me, I can't live without it, so I might as well die in a salty grave." He shrugged, licking his coffee spoon again, and added, "I also like computers, animal crackers, and cats; mostly because they kill rats. Also," He paused, glancing shiftily from side to side, and made a sneaky 'come' gesture with his finger, beckoning Toby closer as his voice dropped to a dramatic whisper, "Can you keep a secret, Toby?" He hesitated a moment, then leaned in close, and whispered into his friend's ear, "I'm actually a secret agent, and I'm here to destroy you."
He pulled back, grinning deviously, then flashed a wink as he stood up, laughing. Somehow, the knowledge that it was true made that joke all the more amusing.
"Come on then, Superman." Griffin teased, grabbing their empty coffee cups and tossing them into the bin, "Walk me to the station, I don't want to miss the last train home again."
He trotted over to the counter, and even though Toby was supposed to be paying, Griffin decided to pay for the coffee himself instead. Once he had deposited his Time into a credit machine, he walked back over to his friend, and fixed him with a bright smile. "Ready to go?"

"You mean besides plotting your death?"
Toby nodded seriously, as if he was sure Myles actually was plotting his death. "Yeah," he grunted. "That."
So Myles jumped into listing things about himself, things he liked, disliked - nothing to do with his background or family life, Tobias noticed. But he wasn't surprised with most of it.
When Myles mentioned the rats, Toby just sipped his coffee innocently. "I didn't lead you, you followed me." He murmured, but Myles didn't seem to noticed. So, instead, Toby just sat back and listened to the man tell him about himself, and he just listened. To be honest, he'd not been so personal with anyone before, not even Dan. The only time he found out things about his boss was when Dan was drunk and felt like sharing that he'd 'banged some chick' the other night, or other crude comments about some woman he'd be dating at that moment in time. That was as deep either of them got. He didn't even know his boss' favourite colour.
It was better that way.
By the time he'd got out of his thoughts, Myles was leaning over the table, miming for him to lend an ear. Frowning, he did as he was motioned to.
"Can you keep a secret, Toby?" Then he felt a hot breath on his ear. "I'm actually a secret agent, and I'm here to destroy you."

Tobias rolled his eyes, and shoved Myles' face away from his own. The other man didn't seem to notice, because he was laughing to hard at his joke. They both stood, and Toby shoved playfully passed the man to pay, but Myles seemed to want to bend the rules a bit.
Toby made a mental note to pay him for his own coffee later.
When they wandered out of the coffee shop, Tobias shoved his hands in his pockets and began strolling down the dark street. Bless Myles... Wanting to be walked to the train station. Like all the serial killers and robbers hung out at the train station at this time of night.
"Not that I'm saying I am a 'Superman'," he murmured, smirking slightly as he walked. "Because I'm not. But if I'm the hero, wouldn't that make you the damsel in distress?"
He smirked darkly.
"And all the other aspect that come with that title? You know... Big chest, pouty face, red lipstick, dramatic hand-to-forehead fainting..." He flicked each one off with his fingers. "None of which you have." He glanced over the man, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I hope."

Once Toby had joined him, Griffin left the cafe with his friend at his side, and as they walked down the dark street side by side, the barman began, "Not that I'm saying I am a 'Superman'," Griffin's eyebrows shot up as he shot Toby a glance, and catching sight of the man's smirk, he shook his head in amusement. Of course Toby was warming up to the nickname. He was too bloody conceited not to.
"Because I'm not." Griffin snickered under his breath as his friend continued, "But if I'm the hero, wouldn't that make you the damsel in distress?"
"Would it?" He asked, scratching his chin unconcernedly.
"And all the other aspect that come with that title? You know... Big chest, pouty face, red lipstick, dramatic hand-to-forehead fainting..." Griffin raised an eyebrow, "None of which you have. I hope."
He smirked at Toby's suspicious expression and, playing along, replied, "Oh, I don't know..." He pouted his lips, batting his eyelashes in a flirtatious fashion (and looking surprisingly adorable in doing so), and lifted a hand to his forehead as he flopped dramatically against Toby's shoulder. "Show me a drop of blood, and I'll be out like a light." He murmured weakly, shooting the barman his best 'damsel in distress' face.
"Then again," He pushed Toby aside, bearing his own weight again, and added with a slight edge, "If you keep comparing me to a woman," His eyes narrowed, "I may just have to get used to blood."

Toby raised an eyebrow as he felt a weight against his shoulder, which he pushed against with little effort. It was one of the good things about having the build of a boxer.
Myles shot him an angelic, shiny-eyed look, that could well have been perfect for the sort of look the damsel gave the hero when he was flying her off to safety. He looked adorable, and so feminine, that it almost made Toby want to laugh at him. It took all his strength not to.
"Show me a drop of blood, and I'll be out like a light." Myles purred, slightly flirtatiously.
Alright. Toby could play that game.
He raised his eyebrows, not once backing away from the angelic face that wasn't all that far away from his. "I'm sure you will, honey." He replied cheekily, his eyes twinkling.
He grunted in surprise as Myles shoved him away, but he didn't go far. Once he'd found his step he carried on forward again, hands in pockets, and shot Myles a playful glare.
"Then again... If you keep comparing me to a woman, I may just have to get used to blood."
"Fine by me." Tobias replied without hesitation, undeterred by Myles' threat. "As long as you call me Superman, I'm going to keep comparing you to a woman. So unless you want to drop my nickname," he narrowed his eyes deviously. "You'd better get used to yours."
Smirking to himself he pushed on, then glanced down one of the dark alleyways. He paused for thought, then changed direction and strolled into the dark alleyway. There were so many shadows you were hardly able to see the floor. Rats could have been lurking behind every dust bin, maggots could have been squirming by the drains, and slug trails reflected on the walls with whatever moonlight was able to escape the shadows.
"You coming?" Tobias asked over his shoulder. "You're not scared, are ya?"

Just then a low, rumbling growl shook the air, and when Tobias turned to where it was coming from, he saw nothing but a set of snarling, sheet white teeth. They were dripping with saliva, frothing by the gums, and at first it was difficult to tell what exactly they belonged to.
The animal barked, and danced on the spot in a defensive manner, and he knew immediately that it was a dog.
It blocked their path, but he was not prepared to turn and walk the long way.
The dog stepped into a lighter part of the shadows. Small, tan-coloured spots could be made out above it's eyes and around it's paws, but the majority of it was a jet black. It had a broad build, but some lined shadows around it's stomach showed that it had not eaten in a long time. It's head was lowered in an aggressive stance, and when it barked, it splattered grey froth all over the cobbled stones by it's feet.
"Angel?" Tobias murmured, frowning at the animal. He knew this dog. She was a stray Rottweiler he'd met a few months ago, and even hung out with a few times, but she'd disappeared. He presumed she'd died.
But more importantly, she was not the aggressive sort.
When he took a step forward, she bared her teeth dramatically, her ears pricked at the sound of his footsteps. However her eyes were not set on him, nor Myles. They flicked uncertainly in the space in front of her. When Toby studied them further, he realised they were lined with silver. Catoracts. The poor dog was probably completely blind by now. No wonder she was growling at him, she probably couldn't recognise his scent beside Myles.
A wiser man might have left her there, but Toby knew something was wrong. So, with the same concentrating frown he usually wore when he was trying something new, he took a step forward.
This seemed to rile her up, but having lost her vision she could not charge him.
He stepped into the shadows, sighed and sank to his knees. She growled ferociously at him for a moment, but soon enough her grows began to falter, and her natural instincts kicked in. Between growls he could see the shine on her nose twitch, which meant she was probably smelling him. He cooed and murmured quietly to her until she licked her lips and put her teeth away.
But he wasn't done yet.
"Angel." He murmured again.
Seemingly content now she knew it was definitely him, she approached him slowly, one step after another, until she was merely a foot or so away from him. She smelt the air once more, then continued forward until she was right beside him. She sniffed his face, which he welcomed, and when he lifted his chin slightly she licked it gently.
"Heya, girl." He cooed, and ran a single hand through her short, greasy fur. He may have scratched it once, but then he dropped his hand back to his side. Affection wasn't his strong point.
With a final sniff, she turned and trotted away, and he noticed for the first time that a set of teats were hanging loosely from her sagging stomach. Her disappearance suddenly made sense. She had been pregnant.
He pulled himself to his feet and frowned at the shadows. She obviously wanted to show him something. But... Puppies? In this environment? Of course, if she was blind, she wouldn't have had much choice in the matter, and if she didn't know the area she couldn't move them.
Stuffing his hands back in his pockets, he turned back to Myles. "I'm going to check it out. You could come with me and brave it, or you can stay there and risk being robbed. Your choice." He said with a wink.

"Oh, ha ha." Griffin retorted, hurrying after Toby, "Very fun- Wait... Wait, where are you going?" His voice rose an octave in panic as he saw Toby walking ahead into a dark, clearly rat-infested alleyway. He froze, digging in his heels obstinately, and said, "I'm not going that way."
But Toby just walked on, apparently deaf to his objections, and Griffin stood there, fretting, until his friend paused, turning back to him.
"You coming?" He asked, and Griffin could just imagine his taunting expression in the darkness, "You're not scared, are ya?"
"Of course I'm scared!" He shot back, "There are bound to be rats in there! Let's just go another way, please..."
A loud growl cut him off, and Griffin fell silent with a gasp, eyes widening. He darted instantly forward, reaching Toby's side in seconds. But surprisingly, instead of cowering away behind his friend, Griffin took a step forward, peering sharply into the gloom. For a moment, he looked more concerned about his friend than himself. But then the snarling grew loader, and as he cast a quick glance at his confident friend, Griffin's own confidence vanished in an instant, and he ducked behind Toby with a whimper.
"Oh my God, it's a Rottweiler!" He squeaked, eyes widening at the sight of the saliva trickling in foamy rivulets down the dog's quivering jowls, "It looks rabid..." He swallowed nervously, peeking out at the Rottweiler from behind Toby's broad back.
"Poor thing..."
"Angel?"
Hearing Toby speak, Griffin glanced up in surprise, letting his gaze flick from the man to the dog and back again. Toby took a step forward, and as he did so, the dog, Angel, bared her fangs. Griffin stumbled back a step.
"Be careful!" He warned urgently, but Toby seemed deaf to his pleas. Griffin bit his lip nervously, praying that the animal was not rabid.
But as Toby edged gradually closer, crooning softly to the dog, it became more and more apparent that she was not truly as vicious as she seemed. At last, Toby crouched down, and Griffin felt his shoulders drop an inch when man and dog greeted each other like old friends. He smiled nervously, rubbing goosebumps from his arms, and tried not to think about where he was standing as he watched the touching reunion. Toby stroked the dog briefly, and then the pair parted, each standing up again to continue on their way. Griffin's gaze followed the dog's progress, and as she passed through a shaft of light, he saw the swollen teets hanging from her belly.
She has puppies! He thought, eyes widening in realization, That's why she was growling. She wasn't being aggressive... She was trying to protect them.
Feeling his heart squeeze in empathy as he thought of his own mother, he crept forward a step, finding himself standing beside Toby, and staring uncertainly after the dog. This alleyway was not a safe place to raise puppies, but Angel was clearly doing her best. The question was, would her best be good enough...?
"I'm going to check it out." Hearing Toby's voice beside him, Griffin jumped, swallowing a gasp of air in the process. He had forgotten that his friend was still there.
"You could come with me and brave it, or you can stay there and risk being robbed. Your choice."
"I'll-" Griffin broke off, hiccuping loudly. He squeaked, clapping his hands over his mouth in embarrassment, then complained miserably, "Man, look what you did! Now I have-" He hiccuped again, and finished with an annoyed growl, "Hiccups."
Huffing irritably, he pushed past Toby, following after Angel with his hiccups echoing bizarrely in the dark alley.
He had barely walked a step, when suddenly, a loud squeak caught his attention, and Griffin looked down to find himself standing on a rat's tail. The thing squealed and squirmed horribly, and with a squeak more high-pitched than the rat's, Griffin leaped three feet into the air, scooting backwards to dive behind Toby once more.
"B-bloody r-rats..." He stammered nervously, trembling like a leaf as he clutched handfuls of his friend's shirt. On the up-side, that rat had scared his hiccups away, but on the down side, Griffin was so terrified that he was scared he'd piss himself next time a rat jumped out at him.
"Let's go check out the dog." Griffin urged, clinging to Toby's arm as he edged forwards, "But please, quickly. I don't like it here..."
He drew in a shaky breath, still trembling, but he stuck bravely by Toby's side, refusing to run, even in his blind terror.

Toby shot Myles a look when he started hiccuping, but he was too busy worrying about Angel and what sad sights might be hiding in the shadows. Honestly, he was worried. A blind, emaciated stray dog could not look after a litter of puppies, especially if this was her first, and she didn't understand her surroundings past the alleyway. She had the potential of being a good mother, but she obviously didn't know what to do, and that could be lethal for a stray.
They both jumped out of their skin when a horrible screech rang through the shadows, followed by an inhuman squeak from Myles' direction. Angel flinched as well, and both she and Toby shot Myles a look.
Toby heard the little rat feet pattering away to the grimy corners of the alley, and then he understood. Of course, poor Myles must have been in Hell.
Pitying the man, Tobias patted him firmly on the back to assure him that he wasn't too far behind, and kept following the mother towards the darkest parts of the alleyway.
He was not at all unnerved at the smaller man grabbing his shirt. In fact, he preferred that to leaving his friend back on the street, anyway. At least he knew he hadn't lost him. "Let's go check out the dog." He stammered nervously, grabbing Toby's arm in his fear. Tobias could feel the poor guy shaking under his grip. "But please, quickly. I don't like it here..."
"I know." Toby replied quietly. "But something's wrong."

And he was right.
In the deepest of shadows, Angel had curled up in a corner than stank of mould, urine and something rotting. Around her stomach were tiny, dark little figures the size of potatoes, laying lifelessly in careless positions, like they had been nudged and rolled over several times before they got to that position.
Angel sniffed them all, lifted her head, and whined. It was a heartbreaking sound.
Toby knelt down and studied the small forms. Just by the looks of them he could tell they were dead. Maggots were squirming around a few of them, whilst others were untouched. They had probably died recently, but the majority had to have been dead for weeks.
"Baby girl..." Toby murmured, his face falling in despair. "You couldn't leave them, could you?"
At the sound of his voice she glanced up, her eyes searching for his, but they would never find them. Then, with a sigh, she lowered her head and licked one of the tiny corpses, as if it were still wriggling around for her. He lifted a hand and ran it slowly over her thin head, then cupped it under her chin. He studied her sad face for a few minutes, and released it, leaving it to droop in despair.
Then, just as he was about to give up hope, the faintest of squeaks came from the litter. It was so tiny he thought he'd imagined it, but when it came again, he realised he hadn't. Eyes widening, he dropped his head and turned it so his ear was hovering over the corpses, like it didn't bother him at all. Then the squeak came from the centre, and he turned his eyes to see one of the dark figures flinching weakly.
"It's alive." He gasped, picking it up with a delicate touch and cupping it in his large hands. It was barely moving, and had gone deathly cold. But it was still alive.
Without thinking about whatever diseases he could catch from it, or the likelihood that it may have fleas, he unzipped his coat and tucked it in the inside breast pocket. He cradled it for a while, welcoming it's quiet squirming with a grateful smile, until he felt Angel's presence by his lap. She was sniffing his coat, searching for her baby when she heard it's cries. Laughing in his relief, Toby opened his coat slightly and let her smell inside. She seemed content with him holding it, but she sat there and guarded it anyway.
"Myles," Toby said loudly, finally addressing his friend. Come here."
When the man finally reached him, Toby grabbed his arm and transferred a couple of hours to him.
He looked up then, his eyes wide with urgency as he shuffled back to rest his back against the wall. "Could you run back to the cafe and get a cup of warm water, and... I don't know, a burger or something for Angel? I don't think she's eaten in a week. She needs something. Oh, and get a bottle of cold water, too." He was aware of how rat-ridden the place was, but this puppy was going to die if he didn't do something. "Please." He begged, staring the man right in the eye.

"I know. But something's wrong." Catching Toby's serious tone, Griffin nodded, taking a deep breath. Rats or not, it was 'be a man' time. Angel clearly needed help, and even though he didn't know the dog, Griffin was not willing to leave the poor, helpless mother to struggle on alone.
Still firmly attached to Toby's arm, he crept closer to where Angel lay, whimpering, in a dark corner. As he got closer, Griffin caught a horrible whiff of rotting flesh, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from gagging, his sensitive eyes watering from the smell.
As he got closer, a horrific sight met his eyes. The dog had puppies, true, but they certainly could not be counted as puppies any more. The only movement in the sorrowful black bodies was the unwelcome squirming of maggots. Griffin's face contorted, and he pulled back in disgust.
"Poor girl..." He whispered, his voice raw with grief, "She- she doesn't know..."
Unable to look upon the heartbreaking sight any longer, Griffin turned his head away, stubbornly blinking back the threat of tears. He couldn't help it... When he looked upon that helpless dog, struggling desperately against impossible odds to protect her babies, he was reminded painfully of his own mother. Until the bitter end, she had done all she could to protect him, just like Angel was now.
Just as he felt his throat begin to tighten, Griffin heard a tiny squeak, and in a heartbeat, his head had snapped around, staring down at the puppies. As he saw his friend hover his ear over the little creatures, a bubble of hope expanded in his chest, and he dropped quickly to his knees, suddenly oblivious to the smell. "Toby?" He asked quickly, eyes wide with question.
"It's alive."
Toby picked it up, cradling it to his chest, and Griffin breathed a sigh of relief, a tiny smile lifting his lips.
There's still some hope. Even if it's only a little, and even if it's just for one, there's hope.
The pair sat in silence as Toby tucked the puppy gently into his coat, and they both listened to its plaintive squeaks. After a moment Angel ventured over, but she remained placid and trusting as she sniffed at Toby's coat, searching for her puppy. The way the dog reacted to his friend, Griffin knew once and for all that his judgement of Toby had been right.
No matter what the books and papers said, Toby was a good man. That was his nature, and nothing would change it.
"Myles," Not immediately recognizing his false name, Griffin watched Toby in puzzlement for a moment before he added, "Come here."
He shifted closer, then flinched in surprise when Toby grabbed his arm. For one heartstopping moment, Griffin almost wondered if he had been tricked, but then he realized that Toby was giving him time, not taking it, and he scorned his own foolishness. Had he not just decided that this man could be trusted?
Shaking aside his thoughts, Griffin glanced at his friend as he began to speak, then settled down with a nod as he listened intently.
"Could you run back to the cafe and get a cup of warm water, and... I don't know, a burger or something for Angel? I don't think she's eaten in a week. She needs something. Oh, and get a bottle of cold water, too." There was a pause, and then he added softly, "Please." Griffin was shocked by the pleading tone in Toby's voice. It was something he had never expected to hear, and yet all he could do was shake his head vehemently as he stood up abruptly.
"Do you even have to ask?" He murmured, dusting off his filthy knees, "I'll be right back. If you need anything else," He patted his pocket, "Call me, okay?"
With that, Griffin turned on his heel, and broke into a sprint, not even noticing the rats that fled before him.

With his breath coming in quick gasps, he retraced his steps back to the cafe, skidding to a stop at the door in mere minutes. He burst inside and ran to the counter, where the messy-haired waitress was smacking a Time Credit machine against the counter, looking grumpier than ever.
"Hi." Griffin gasped, sliding to a stop in front of the counter. "Can I-" He took a deep, shuddering breath, filling his heaving lungs, and tried again, "Can I get a burger, and two waters? One hot, one cold. Please make it quick." She scowled blankly at him and Griffin, eyes wide with urgency, blinked adorably back.
"Please..."
Grumbling, she turned away, and hurried into the back room, soon returning with Griffin's order, which he grabbed from her in a hurry. "Thank you." He said, flashing a grateful smile as he quickly paid, adding a one hour tip of his own.
Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she watched him go, but Griffin just waved goodbye, and raced back out into the street, sprinting at full speed through the ever-darkening night.
He held the supplies in a plastic bag at his side, and it rustled loudly as he skidded around the corner into the alleyway, aiming a vicious kick at a rat that crossed his path. He pulled a face when it smacked the wall, and in his distraction, he narrowly missed running straight into Toby's back.
Scrambling to a sliding halt, Griffin tripped, grabbing Toby's shoulder for support, and toppled onto his knees beside the man.
Too out of breath to speak, he pushed the bag toward his friend, still leaning heavily against him while he caught his breath.
"Th-there." He managed at last, "Will it be okay? I know a vet back home, but..." His gaze dropped to Angel, "I couldn't take it away from her." He swallowed thickly, "She tried so hard..." He stretched out a hand toward the dog, and she sniffed at it cautiously.
"Here." He whispered, unwrapping the burger, and pushing it toward the starving Rottweiler. "Eat up, clever girl. You've earned it."

Toby nodded, grateful that Myles was willing to put aside his phobias for the sake of pair of strays. He was a kind-hearted one, that was obvious. Weird, but kind. His actions proved that.
Shifting beneath the gravel to a more comfortable position, he breathed into his coat to warm up the air around the puppy, and cooed gently to it. Angel was there the whole time, as insistent as ever, and rarely took her nose out of his coat to assure herself that her baby was still there. Tobias scratched her chin fondly, opening his coat slightly to allow her to lick it's dirty fur.
"Dare I say it, kiddo," he murmured, wrinkling his nose at how badly she smelt, "but you need a bath. So does the little one." He made the mistake of smelling into his coat, and of course, the smell of mould and urine wafted through his nostrils. He pulled a face.
"So will I, after all this is over."

It didn't take long for Myles to come thundering down the alley again, nearly falling over Toby in the process of stopping. He handed Toby the water, leaning tiredly over him - he seemed to do that often - and asked him, "Will it be okay? I know a vet back home, but... I couldn't take it away from her." He swallowed. "She tried so hard..."
Ignoring the emotion threatening to shake Myles' voice, Toby replied confidently, "Well it's warmed up a bit." He picked up the polystyrene cup of warm water and held it under his coat, a few inches from the puppy. "But it's not the cold that I'm worried about, it's those." He nodded to the litter. "More importantly, the maggots. I haven't noticed any lumps on it, which should mean they're hopefully not going to be nesting under the surface. I'll have to get it to the bar and have a look at it though."
But Myles was no longer listening. He was attempting to befriend the mother, who was twitching away from his hand. But the curiosity from the smell of the freshly-cooked burger was enough to keep her head low and her nose pointing forward. When she heard it shifting towards her she crept carefully towards it. Then, with a tiny growl, she snatched it from the paper and trotted to the other side of Tobias to eat it. He chuckled slightly at her behaviour. She wouldn't leave her baby, but she was obviously anxious about eating around others. Woe betide it anyone tried to take her food from her now.
"Thank you," he murmured quietly, finally glancing up at Miles with a grateful twinkle in his eye. "I really appreciate this." And he meant it too.

Angel scoffed her burger - bread and all - within seconds, and she wandered back over to the bag of paper curiously to see if there was any more. She then raised her nose in Myles' direction, her nose twitching madly. Then, with a small sigh, she wandered back over to Toby and sniffed the puppy again.
"We need to persuade her to get out of here." He murmured, nodding to the malnourished rottweiler. "She'll die if she stays here."
So, with a final hiss of breath he pulled himself to his feet, and allowed the puppy's cries to lure Angel into the light.
"Come on," He cocked his head towards the end of the alley. "I'll take these two to the bar and get them sorted out. Dan loves dogs - although they don't love him - so he should be alright with them staying." He clicked his fingers to Angel. "Come on, honey."
The poor mother turned her head in the vague direction of the dead litter, her ears pricked.
"Angel." He urged again. The puppy squeaked in his coat.
She whined quietly, but trotted on after him with her head low. His footsteps and the puppy's cries would be enough to guide her down the street, at least.

Once they'd reached the pub, Toby led Angel into the back room and prepared a small bed in the corner using some blankets and a lumpy mattress. He then laid some newspaper down and sat at one of the chairs to inspect the puppy properly.
It couldn't have been that old, a few weeks maybe? It was a plump puppy also, well-fed, even if it's mother wasn't. It's eyes were open, although one seemed to have a mild infection that had caused the tears to dry and the eyelids to swell. A few maggots were hanging out of it's scruff, but none seemed to have gone deeply into the skin. That was good news.
All he had to do was clean out it's eye and pluck the maggots out, then perhaps give it a bath. But that could wait until tomorrow.
"Dan!" He called through a door on the other end of the room. "Hey, Danny, I got you a present."
He shot Myles a grin.
Dan waddled out, vaguely drunk, and frowned at Toby's innocent face. "It's my birthday already?"
"Shut up." Toby chuckled, then gestured to the puppy that was squirming around where he'd left it, on the make-shift bed.
Dan barely had to look at it twice, and his manly stature crumbled in awe.
"Awwwwwwwwwwwww!" He cooed, falling to his knees to study the puppy. Angel growled at the new presence, and Dan quickly came to his senses and scrabbled away from her baring teeth. "You've been stray-watching again?"
"Her litter was dead." Toby informed him seriously. "That was the only survivor. I'd be careful, she's a bit protective."
Dan glared at him.
"Say... Could you start plucking those maggots out of it whilst I escort Madame here to the train station?" He continued, grinning innocently at both of them. Myles would kill him. Oh well.
Dan curled his lip in disgust, but he nodded anyway. "As long as I get to keep it." He moved to pick the puppy up and Angel growled again. "And my fingers..."
"You may have to make friends with her first." Toby chuckled, ruffling his boss' hair in a playful fashion. Times like this they were more friendly than boss and employee. "I'll be back in about an hour."
He zipped his coat up and turned back to Myles, looking slightly apologetic. "I'm sorry about that." He murmured, then checked the time on his expensive, now working, watch. "Ah, shit. You'll miss the train if we walk now, no matter how fast." He lifted his eyes, and they hooded over deviously. "We'll have to take the bike if you want to get there in time."

Griffin nodded mutely when Toby explained the puppy's condition, still absentmindedly watching Angel eat her burger as he listened. Toby explained that it was warming up, but Griffin knew that cold was the least of their problems, and apparently, Toby agreed. It was the maggots that would be a problem, or rather, the possible diseases they could bring. Griffin made a mental note to research it when he got home, and try to bring some medicine for the puppy. He couldn't do much, but that didn't mean he wouldn't at least try.
He felt his jaw stiffen in determination as he watched the starved Rottweiler wolfing hungrily at the burger, and then a soft voice beside him stole his attention.
"Thank you, I really appreciate this."
Blinking in surprise, Griffin glanced at Toby, rather shocked by the grateful sincerity in his tone.
"Nah-uh." He shook his head, casting his friend a smile, "Don't thank me. I would have helped anyway."
They both looked back at Angel, and with a quiet voice, Toby said, "We need to persuade her to get out of here. She'll die if she stays here."
Nodding seriously, Griffin shifted back and got to his feet, casting a nervous glance around him as he heard a faint sound of scurrying nearby. His eyes searched the gloom, and when he failed to find the guilty rodent, he shifted nervously toward Toby, who had already stood up and started trying to coax Angel out of the alleyway.
"Come on," He urged, nodding toward the end of the alleyway, "I'll take these two to the bar and get them sorted out. Dan loves dogs - although they don't love him - so he should be alright with them staying."
"Great." Griffin answered, taking up his usual spot at Toby's side, "I'm right behind you."

And so the strange procession went - men and dogs - walking slowly through the night. It was getting cold fast, and even in his baggy hoodie, Griffin started to shiver. Any thoughts of making it home for the night had already left his mind. All that mattered at that moment was Angel. She just couldn't lose the last pup...
Soon enough, they arrived back at the bar, and Griffin hung back, keeping out of the way, while Toby and Dan sorted out the dogs. He couldn't help but smile at the way the two joshed around, teasing one another like old friends. There were times when he wished that he had that, but for the most part, he was content just to sit back and watch.
Until, that is, Toby made a mocking remark that caught his attention.
"Say... Could you start plucking those maggots out of it whilst I escort Madame here to the train station?"
Toby shot him a grin, and Griffin's eyes narrowed angrily. 'Madame'? Really? And in front of Dan, no less?
Annoyed, he turned away, walking off to examine a mark on the wall that had suddenly become particularly interesting. He had no intention of standing around and being treated like a woman. If he wanted to do that, he'd just go to work.
Griffin stubbornly ignored the exchange between the two men behind him, until at last Toby walked up and said, "I'm sorry about that."
"Good." He huffed, shooting the man a harsh glare, "You should be."
"Ah, shit. You'll miss the train if we walk now, no matter how fast."
"Oh, that..." Griffin rolled his eyes. He had been hoping that Toby was apologising for treating him like a woman. No such luck, apparently. He blew out an irritable breath through his teeth.
"We'll have to take the bike if you want to get there in time."
Flashing his friend a withering glare, Griffin brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his shoulder, and said firmly, "I'd rather be drowned alive in a pit of rats- Well, maybe not..." He shuddered dramatically as he seemed to rethink this, "But I am not getting on a bike with you again, Evel Knievel."
Shooting a look back toward Dan and the dogs, Griffin rubbed his arm uncertainly, wondering whether he should offer to stay. He wanted to, but knowing him he'd only get in the way anyway.
He stewed for a moment in silent indecision, then shrugged, and asked, "D'you want me to stick around and help here? One sleepless night won't kill me, and then I can catch the first train back tomorrow..."
He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, and waited to see what Toby would say. He supposed that they didn't really need him, but he had his smartphone... He could look up what diseases to look out for, and maybe how to treat them... He was sure he could be of some use, if he tried.

Tobias wasn't too bothered that Myles seemed faintly annoyed at his teasing, although he was willing to brave a boring journey of letting Myles drive if it really bothered him so much. In fact, apparently, it did.
"I'd rather be drowned alive in a pit of rats- Well, maybe not..." He seemed to rethink his words, then added more firmly, "But I am not getting on a bike with you again, Evil Kanival."
"Oh," Toby raised his eyebrows towards the sky. "So I'm a villain now? I thought I was Superman a while ago..."
But Myles was ignoring him. After he set eyes on the lit up room behind them both, Myles' demeanour began to change. He looked oddly self-concious and shy, like there was actually anything to be shy about. Maybe he was worried about getting on the train alone so late at night? Maybe he was nervous about getting on that bike again? Toby was unsure.
"D'you want me to stick around and help here? One sleepless night won't kill me, and then I can catch the first train back tomorrow..."
Tobias blinked, taken aback by the seriousness and the uncertainty of the question. He wasn't quite sure when the mood had changed...
"Uh..." He grunted stupidly, scratching the back of his head. "Sure. I mean, as long as it's not troublesome for you..." Frowning thoughtfully, he glanced back at Dan, who was still struggling to befriend the blind mother. He smiled fondly, then turned back to Myles. "We could always use an extra pair of hands, anyway. Why don't you head to the store room and get a small bowl out? I can pour this water in it." He wandered back over to the mother, who seemed slightly on edge with her new surroundings. She obviously didn't want to walk around too much because she didn't know how big the room was, and checking it out would be leaving her baby. Toby picked up the bottle of water Myles had bought. "I'd forgotten about it."
He glanced back up at Myles. "Oh, and could you get a bucket for me, and some shampoo from one of the rooms? I'm going to try and bathe this little guy." He shoved Dan aside and picked up the puppy, studying it's maggot-infested skin. He sure hoped that was just a surface thing, and hadn't got into the poor little thing's blood stream. It squirmed weakly at his grip, but he continued to study it. Then something caught it's attention around it's back legs.
"Girl." He corrected himself, and scratched the puppy's little head fondly.
"Dan," He ordered, noticing his boss was staring rather gormlessly at the puppy. He'd definitely been drinking. "Get me some tweezers."
"Yessir." He replied, saluting mockingly with two fingers. Then he turned them round in a crude gesture.
Toby glowered at him. He wouldn't remember this in the morning. "Now would be nice."
Grumbling quietly, Dan scrabbled clumsily to his feet and wandered off to search for the tweezers.

A hint of awkwardness crept between the two men, and just as Griffin was starting to regret his offer, Toby mumbled, "Sure. I mean, as long as it's not troublesome for you..."
"Hey." Griffin shrugged, "I've got nowhere else to go."
He offered a slight smile, but the awkwardness lingered a moment as he stood there, rubbing his arm, quite unsure of what to do with himself.
"We could always use an extra pair of hands, anyway." Toby assured him, and Griffin felt a hint of confidence return to him, his lips curving into a smile, "Why don't you head to the store room and get a small bowl out? I can pour this water in it."
Nodding, eager to help, Griffin trotted hurriedly toward the store room. As he was on his way, Toby added more instructions, and Griffin just nodded, heading off to follow those, too.

It didn't take him long to gather all he needed, and when he returned to the main room, he had a large bucket in his arms - the bowl and shampoo inside.
"Here you go." He said with a smile, depositing the bucket beside Toby, and swiping the back of his hand over his damp forehead. The sleeves of his hoodie were rolled up, revealing slender, elegantly toned arms.
"I found these, too." He pressed a pair of tweezer's into Toby's hand, and added with a knowing smirk, "I have a feeling Dan's gonna find the bathroom floor before he finds these." He winked, then gave the puppy's head a tender scratch with the tip of his forefinger. His expression softened as he considered the little animal, then he seemed to lose his nerve, and retreated again, finding a chair in the corner, and sitting down there to leave Toby to his work. He didn't want to get in the way, and besides, Angel seemed more comfortable with just Toby around. Stressing the poor mother out was the last thing Griffin wanted to do.
Content with his reasoning, Griffin settled down in his chair, and plucked something from his pocket.
It was an Ipod that he had been working on for the last few weeks, and though it was hardly worth the trouble it had caused him, Griffin simply refused to give up on the thing. It had been discarded after one of his colleagues had dropped it into a swimming pool, but of course, Griffin had picked it out of the trash, and he had been entertaining himself by tinkering with it ever since.
Brows knit together in concentration, Griffin began unscrewing the little device, and once again began the long, tedious process of tweaking the boards and wires within.
He honestly wasn't sure if it was even possible to fix the music player, but it was the challenge that made it fun for him. He didn't need it, in any case. He had his own; an older model, true, but he was rather fond of it, and preferred it to the later models.
Still, this broken down device had become his hobby for the time being, and Griffin was determined to fix it. In fact, if he had his way, the Ipod would be fixed before morning.
If Superman could rescue a starving dog and her puppy, then he could fix a bloody Ipod!

It wasn't long before Myles was back, carrying everything he'd been sent to fetch. Toby took each object from him with a grateful smile, placing each one on the floor, when a small, sharp object was pressed into his hand. Frowning, he glanced up to see Myles smirking at him. Or rather his boss, who was sat sleepily beside him on the carpet, trying to persuade Angel to let him without a mile radius of her baby.
"I have a feeling Dan's gonna find the bathroom floor before he finds these." He winked.
"I resent that!" Dan snapped, but he could do naught but rock around on his backside whilst Toby and Myles fussed over the baby. Myles finally seemed to decide he was better off out of the way - if only Dan had that logic - and disappeared to a corner to amuse himself whilst Toby put the puppy back down on the bed. He poured the cold water into the small bowl for Angel, and left a small amount for the bucket, which he filled with the hot water he'd used as a heat source until they'd got to the pub. Once that was done, he lifted the puppy up again and gently massaged it with the lukewarm water. It stopped crying after a while, which he guessed was because it was comfortable or sleepy, so he continued to bathe it, cooing gently to it, and warming it's cold paws up. He then used some shampoo to gently massage into it's urine-stained fur, avoiding the section where the maggots were feasting.
After it's bath, he dried it off with his jacket and shifted the bowl aside. Angel had now smelt the water and was lapping it thirstily, no longer interested on what was happening to her puppy. Toby watched her fondly for a while. She had been one deprived mother.
Once the puppy was clean, he set out plucking each maggot with the set of tweezers, being careful not the break the puppy's skin as he did so. This was a slow and daunting process, which soon sent Dan to bed with a mixture of boredom and overall fatigue, leaving Toby and Myles alone in the back room.
Once the maggots were disposed of, Toby cleaned out the puppy's eye with a damp cloth, until the dry tears had cleared away and the small puppy could see again. He then gave it one more quick bath before leaving it on the bed to sleep. It was a hard life being a puppy.

He had found a patch on Angel which had also been attacked by the maggots, but there weren't as many as he'd feared. They were probably all still eating the carcasses.
Casting that thought aside he plucked what was left from her fur and scrubbed away at the dead skin with a cloth lined with shampoo. Then, after giving her one more pat on her bony stomach, he left her to attend to her baby.
Yawning widely, Toby staggered tiredly over to the spot by the chair that Myles was sat at, busy dissecting a small, square device that he didn't recognise. It had been a good two hours since he'd started plucking the maggots from that puppy, and the concentration had tired him out. Despite his extremely strong coffee, he was tired.
Very tired.
So he sat down beside the chair, bringing his knees up towards his chest, and rested his head against the arm of the chair. In a couple more hours he'd have to check the puppy again to make sure it's temperature was alright.
But until then, he could close his eyes...
Just for a moment...
"Myles." He murmured tiredly. "Wake me up after forty winks..." He closed his eyes, but a clicking sound from the tiny, square bow that Myles was meddling with caught his attention. His eyes cracked open, and he squinted tiredly at the strange object. "Whatcha fixing?"

Griffin had himself busied with the Ipod for a while, and he didn't even notice the hours ticking away while Toby tended to the puppy. The time passed peacefully, and Griffin remained lost in his world of buttons and wires, until at last, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
Looking up, he saw Toby approaching, and smiled slightly. Suddenly, he seemed to notice how the darkness outside had deepened, and he felt his eyes grow heavy. He yawned, and ruffled his thick, curly hair into a crumpled mess in an attempt to wake himself.
Toby reached his chair, and slumped down on the floor beside it, earning a curious glance from Griffin.
"Myles, wake me up after forty winks..." He mumbled tiredly, and Griffin shrugged in response. "Sure thing." He said, "But the 90s want their lingo back, man."
Shooting Toby a teasing wink, he turned his attention back to the Ipod, his brows drawing together in concentration as he poked at a loose wire.
"Whatcha fixing?" Toby asked, and Griffin glanced at his friend to see him squinting thoughtfully at the shiny white object in his hands.
"It's an Ipod." He replied, replacing the back cover, and quickly screwing it securely on. "Come on, you bastard..." He muttered, shooting the thing a fierce glare as he jabbed savagely at the on button. He held his breath, then the little screen lit up, and an excited whoop leaped from Griffin's lips before he could stop it.
"Success!" He cheered, poking his glasses up his nose in a nerdy fashion.
"Here." He handed the Ipod to Toby, "You can have it."
Flashing a warm smile, Griffin stood up, and stretched his arms dramatically over his head.
"Right then, catch some sleep, Superman. I'll watch the mutts for a while."

Toby looked puzzled. An iPod? He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever seen on of those, never mind owned one. They weren't all that popular in the ghetto because they needed power to recharge. People in the ghetto only paid for the power they really needed.
He watched the man fiddle about with it for a while, until it's tiny screen lit up with life finally. Myles let out an excitable - so dog-like that even Angel shot him a funny look - and grinned. He'd obviously spent a while trying to get it going. Toby smiled tiredly at him, surprised that he was feeling happy for someone. Enough to smile when he was tired, in fact.
Then, Myles did something he was certainly not expecting.
He dropped the iPod into his hand.
"What-" Toby flinched, staring down at the small device like it had grown fangs and was threatening to eat him alive. Then he glanced up at Myles, his expression unchanging. Had Myles dropped it accidentally? Surely he wouldn't spend so much time trying to fix something then give it away immediately after? He couldn't understand the logic, but Myles didn't seem to want the iPod back. He'd given it to Toby intentionally.
"Here. You can have it."
Could he?
But what would Myles want in return...?
"Right then, catch some sleep, Superman. I'll watch the mutts for a while."
Toby gaped at him. So... Was that it? Didn't Myles want an exchange? A beer, perhaps?
"I-" He began, then looked back at the tiny device in his hand. Myles didn't seem to care about getting paid back for anything. He was being serious.
Evidenly touched at the warm gesture, Toby slipped the device in his pocket to study later, and watched tiredly as Myles got up to tend to the dogs. The floor was harsh on his backside, but he made no attempt to move. Instead, he pulled up the hood of his coat like a homeless hermit and crossed his arms over his stomach, resting his head against the chair arm. He let sleep take him gently, but he was careful not to let the darkness completely engross him in fear for what it might bring.

When he awoke his face was tense and lined with a thin layer of cold sweat, and evident sign that he had been suffering from the same nightmares as usual. But his throat didn't feel hoarse from screaming, nor did his limbs hurt from lashing out at inanimate objects, so it was all-in-all a gracious nap compared to what he usually had.
His eyes flickered opened as he squinted around the room. He couldn't have been asleep very long. A couple of hours maybe? It was still dark outside, he noticed.
At first when he saw the extra person in the room he began to panic, but then he recognised Myles' blonde curls and he realised he had nothing to worry about. The guy had stayed awake as promised.
"Heya." He murmured, rubbing his tired eyes to keep them open. "Do you want to swap? Or I could get you a beer or something, if you want."
Obviously the Barman side to him was as active as ever, since he was so used to keeping his act up he sometimes forgot who he used to be.

When Griffin had finished checking up on the dogs - both of whom seemed to tolerate him more willingly now - he cast a glance at Toby, to find the barman asleep on the floor. That, of course, meant that he was left to his own devices. Feeling rather excited by the prospect, Griffin quickly began busying himself with pointless chores. Picking up Angel's half-empty water bowl from the floor, he took it to the tap to fill it, humming quietly under his breath. He liked to keep busy, and even though looking after the dogs was mindless work, it certainly appealed to Griffin far more than sitting in an office, or worse, sleeping. Who had enough time to waste it all in bed?
Once the bowl was full, Griffin replaced it in front of Angel, and gave her an affectionate scratch on the head. She watched him warily, but he was pleased to find that she did not growl like before.
With the water filled, Griffin dusted his hands on his pants and looked around curiously, his eyes bright with eagerness. The dogs had water, and both were sleeping peacefully on their makeshift bed. The light overhead threw a healthy golden glow over the floor, and Toby was snoring softly in his corner. Everything was in order.
Twiddling his thumbs, Griffin glanced left and right, searching for something to do. Again, he found nothing.

Shoulders slumping, he stood in the middle of the room, at a loss for what to do with himself, then he shrugged and trotted off to a nearby guest room. Stealing a blanket from the bed, he trotted back out and tossed it over Toby, then headed to the main bar area to investigate. With Toby fast asleep in the other room, Griffin took the liberty to examine the ice machine as he had been meaning to, but he didn't turn it on out of fear of waking the grumpy barman. He did, however, find a broken kettle hidden in a cupboard under the counter, and after he had taken apart the plug and fixed it up, Griffin plugged it into the wall and casually began making himself a cup of coffee, humming placidly all the while. His eyes had gone droopy from tiredness, but he knew that a little caffeine would fix that right up.
His eyes shot longing to the ice machine, but as he was about to start fiddling with it again, the kettle boiled with a whistle like a police siren, catching him red-handed. Jumping guiltily from his thoughts, Griffin hurried over to the shuddering device, and quickly switched it off, pouring the boiling water into a pair of mugs that he had found with the kettle.
He busied himself for a few minutes making the coffee, then trotted back into the other room, a mug in each hand. Toby was still asleep, so Griffin set his coffee on the window sill, then sat down in 'his' chair to drink his own. He took a brief sip, then pulled a face, wrinkling his nose. He had forgotten to add salt.
Sighing, he wrapped his hands more firmly around the mug, enjoying the warming sensation, and slowly sipped away at it, feeling his energy rapidly return. Just as he drained the last drop, Griffin heard a voice beside him murmur, "Heya."

Toby's sudden awakening startled him so much that Griffin jumped like a skittish squirrel, almost dropping his mug in the process. He made an untidy snatch for it, catching it in the nick of time, then cleared his throat awkwardly, and set it down on the floor with dignity.
"Do you want to swap?" Toby offered, seeming thankfully unaware of Griffin's clumsy moment, "Or I could get you a beer or something, if you want."
"No thanks." He answered, casting a brief glance at the watch on his wrist, "I think 3AM's a little early to be drinking." Winking, he quickly stood up and trotted over to the windowsill where he had left Toby's coffee. Reaching out a hand, Griffin picked it up and, without thinking, dipped in a finger to test the temperature.
With a yelp of pain, he jerked his hand back, popping his finger into his mouth and sucking tenderly on it with a sulky expression.
"Here." He mumbled, his voice muffled by a mouthful of finger, "I made you coffee. It's still hot." He handed the mug to Toby, then removed his finger from his mouth and flicked out his hand in a rather self-pitying fashion.
"There's nothing to do around here." Griffin complained, plopping himself down on the floor opposite Toby, and pulling a bored face, "Do you want to play a game or something? I've got cards." He patted his pocket, "Otherwise hangman, naughts and crosses, I really don't care." He blinked earnestly, "I'm bored out of my mind, and since I've had caffeine, I'll probably start pulling my hair out soon. I shouldn't have to tell you what a tragedy that would be - I think it's pretty obvious I'd look terrible bald. I tried it out on Photoshop once, and it does not work for me." He met Toby's gaze intently, and added, deadly serious, "I look like a potato in specs. Nobody wants to see that."

"It's never too early for drinking." Toby grunted sulkily. "As long as you're prepared to sleep for fifteen hours afterwards. I'd be game."
Game for drinking. Not so much the sleeping.
He shifted his seat slightly, pulling a face at the numbness on his backside, and rubbed it sorely. He should have slept on a chair, but he didn't want to risk falling off it. Besides, sleeping sat up on the floor was less humiliating.
He glanced around the room and noticed Myles had made himself a hot cup of something. He remembered how broken the kettle was, and raised his eyebrows. Myles had been busy.
Bless... He looked so skittish he'd probably been running around like a thing possessed to try and find something to entertain himself with.
Toby had to catch his own coffee, because Myles had stupidly put his finger in it. Smirking fondly, Toby wrapped his hands around it and cradled it close to his body, like he only wanted it for the warmth.
"Thanks." He grunted, like having someone talking to him with a finger in their mouth was the most normal thing in the world.

He watched the man twitter away about how bored he was with a blank expression. To be honest he was still tired, and was still only digesting half of what he usually did. He saw Myles' mouth yapping away, but he didn't really care much. Until he'd had a few mouthfuls of coffee, then he began to listen.
"I'm bored out of my mind, and since I've had caffeine, I'll probably start pulling my hair out soon. I shouldn't have to tell you what a tragedy that would be - I think it's pretty obvious I'd look terrible bald. I tried it out on Photoshop once, and it does not work for me."
Toby frowned at him, trying to imagine him without hair.
"I look like a potato in specs. Nobody wants to see that."
"Jesus Christ." Toby replied, his mouth agape. Anyone would think he really found the idea too horrifying for words. "You're right. I've been haunted by many things, but I certainly don't want that added to the list."
He placed the coffee on the carpet next to him and hauled himself to his feet.
"We'd better find something for you to do. Quickly."
He wandered tiredly around the room, waddling slightly as he tried to get the blood flow back into his backside. Then he opened a door in the wall to reveal a small cupboard of trashy objects that Dan had never wanted to part with.
"We have a mini chess set." He murmured, his voice muffled by the dark wood. He found the box for the chess set and tossed it carelessly on the floor. "Frustration." He tossed that on the floor also. "And a bouncy ball." He was about to throw that, then thought against it, and kept it in his hand.
Then, after closing the cupboard door, he walked back over, pushing the games to the centre of the room with his feet. He sat down, legs crossed, and sipped away at his coffee.
"I don't know any card games though." He admitted. "You'd have to teach me."
Honestly, he'd not had anyone he could do this with other than his drunken boss, who he hardly trusted with things like this anyway. Knowing Dan he'd try to use the chess pieces for ammo or something stupid like that. He rolled his eyes. But he hadn't allowed himself to have any friends or people he could get close enough to do activities like this with. In fact, sadly, he was ratehr looking forward to it.
Besides... Myles needed his protection. He'd not felt like this before, but he was certain that if he left that man to his own devices in the ghetto he'd be dead within the week. So of course, Toby couldn't just throw him out on the street.
"Go on, then." He urged, sipping his coffee again. "You choose."

"You're right. I've been haunted by many things, but I certainly don't want that added to the list." Toby answered, looking appropriately horrified. "We'd better find something for you to do. Quickly."
"Thank the Lord!" Griffin replied dramatically, bouncing to his feet like a Jack-in-the-box, and following Toby curiously over to a dusty cupboard in the corner. How had he not noticed that when he'd been bored to death a few minutes ago...?
"We have a mini chess set." Toby murmured, tossing it onto the floor. After that, Griffin didn't take in a word. Seeing the crummy old chess set, his eyes widened in delight. If he'd had a tail, it would have been wagging.
Without missing a beat, he snatched the chess set off the floor, blew on it, then dusted the remaining dirt off with his fingers, beaming like a toddler with giant rainbow lollypop.
"This is great!" He exclaimed enthusiastically, looking up to cast Toby a delighted grin, "I love chess! It's been years since I played. I think the last time was with my Mom..." He trailed off, and for the briefest of moments his smile flickered, but in an instant he was back to normal, and he tugged enthusiastically at Toby's sleeve as he plonked down on the floor, opening up the chess set and beginning to set out the pieces on the board. "I'll be black." He offered, swiveling the board so the black pieces were on his side, then pushing the white ones over to Toby. Griffin's face was alive with childlike joy, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling happily as he arranged the pawns in a neat line in front of the rest of the pieces. At last, he set the king and queen in the middle, then looked across at Toby.
"You start." He urged impatiently, flashing a grin, "The sooner we get going, the sooner I can kick your ass." His eyes narrowed deviously, and his grin became crooked as a devilish expression crossed his handsome face.
It truly had been too long since he had played chess. They hadn't even started, and already Griffin was having so much fun it was almost criminal. He really was glad that he'd met Toby, albeit under strange circumstances. His colleagues never played chess with him, so if they wanted to slap irons on the one person who did, well... They'd have to pry his wrist from Griffin's cold, dead fingers to do it.
And I'm sure as hell not going down without a fight. I dare them to try.

Toby felt his lips pull upwards when Myles took a passionate liking for the chess set. Bless him... He really was easily pleased, wasn't he? Toby wished he could be the same... Forget about his troubles, just for a moment.
He set up the pieces on his side almost robotically, not having to think twice about where each one stood or the purpose of each one. He then sat back, crossing his legs loosely and stared daringly at Myles, who looked equally excited at the challenge.
"You start." He ordered. "The sooner we get going, the sooner I can kick your ass."
"Is that a challenge?" He mused, raising an eyebrow.
Shrugging, he studied the board curiously for a moment, then picked up the King and moved it first, just a space in front of the pawn.
He glanced back at Myles to smile at the look of surprise on his face, and said coolly, "If the Kind doesn't lead how can he expect his subjects to follow?"
He sat back, leaning against the chair behind him and added, "Oh and by the way, if I win, you're buying me breakfast."

"Oh, getting philosophical now, are we?" Griffin teased with a playful grin, urging one of his pawns forward with a nudge of his finger. He moved it two squared, then left it, a solitary sentry standing guard before the king.
"Oh and by the way," Toby said, earning a glance from Griffin as he leaned back against the legs of the chair behind him, "If I win, you're buying me breakfast."
"My friend, if you win, I'll buy you a car." He retorted smugly, his eyes narrowing as his lips curved into a confident smirk. If there was one time when Griffin did believe in himself, then this was it. Logic and strategy were his forte, and when it came to a game like chess, his skills were formidable. He simply didn't lose. He'd never lost a chess match in his life.
After all, a person didn't become one of the world's top investigators without a certain knack for strategic thinking.
Pushing his glasses up his nose, Griffin shoved his fringe out of his face, and considered the board intelligently, mapping out his strategy in a matter of minutes.
"Go on, then." He urged, looking up at Toby, "It's your move."

And so the game began, stretching on long into the night as Griffin and Toby each took their turns. All the while, Griffin sat cross-legged on the ground like a child at storytime, so enthralled by the game that he didn't even notice the growing stiffness in his limbs, or the bruising on his rear from the hard floor. When playing a game, he was in his element. Nothing could distract, not until the bitter end.

"You know, I'm counting on that." Toby teased, his eyes stalking Myles' fingers in a hawk-like fashion. "And whilst you're at it, get yourself a car. Or else it's another trip on my motorbike to get you to the train station in the morning."
Myles moved his first pawn, looking remarkably intelligent with his glasses on, despite his child-like stature. Moving a pawn first was a common move.
Toby moved his own pawn, right forward so it was alongside his King. He had no strategy ideas yet, but he had never lost a chess game to Dan before, so in theory, this should be a breeze.

An hour later and he realised he couldn't have been more naive. The numbers of his chess pieces had dropped to a very small amount in comparison to Myles' chess pieces, who still had what could count as an army left.
After the second hour, Myles was chasing Toby's lone King around the chess board. This would be his third 'Check'.
"I should have known." Toby mused. He was sat hunched over himself now, leaning his face against a single fist, and glaring at the Chess board as if he wished it to burst into flames. "A genius who could fix a broken kettle, iPod and TV remote would have no problem beating me in a game of Chess."
He sat back, stretched his arms above his head and shot Myles a tired glare. "You know what? You win. But next time we're boxing." He pulled himself to his feet, grabbing his mug. "I'm getting more coffee. I'll refill it for you, but that's all I owe you." He winked, picking up Myles' mug.