:Bull:

Bull Rush was fixing up dinner when his phone gave a very distinctive ring. It was Francie. His hands were covered in raw chicken juice and chopped herbs. He shoved his filthy hand into his pocket extracting his phone, now covered in a yellow film with green bits.

"Hello?" He asks. She never called him. It wasn't in the plan. It was too expensive for her to call him, something was wrong. Bull Rush felt his hand grip the phone tighter, his concern evident in his question.

"Hey honey! Its Francie, how are things with you?" Perfectly innocent, perfectly harmless question. Why was she calling him was no longer the question, why was she stalling? What did she not want to tell him?

"Things are going well. Got a new packmate recently. Name's chantay. An environmental lawyer of some kind. The store is limping along, and hopefully soon we'll start turning a real profit on it. So whats up, you never call." Concern mounts, his shoulders knot in tension, as he asks his question. What happened? Did she and that boy finally decide to screw him over? Was it something he did? He squeezed harder.

And then his chickeny hands, lubricated with the fat and juice of the chicken, launched his phone across the room. Bull Rush watched in horror as it bounced against the carpet, the battery cover flying off. Bull Rush dover after the phone, catching it before the second bounce.
"...and so yeah.."
"Wait, back up. I didn't hear your answer, the phone fell." Bull Rush wiped his hand on his pants, using his now "clean" hand to hold the phone.

"I said that we are getting close to done. Soon we will be gone from all the sand and drinking." Drinking? He remembered the scourge that was drinking on digs. Dig all day, drink all night, dig all day, drink all night. Occiasionally sleep. But he had his metabolism going for him, and never strayed into amorous contacts. Had she?

"Thats great! I hope you had a good time. How is the paper coming?" He didn't want to think about her and that boy in the picture of their team he found, and the drinking. What were they doing over there?
No that wasn't important. Yes it was very important. No there were more important things. This was the most important thing. Shut up.

"Its coming along, still working on getting it done. You think I can send you a draft and have you pick it over for me?"

She needs me. She wants my help. I will help her, she needs me. The tension released, the anger and anxiety stilled, his mate needed him. "Of course Francie. I would be very happy to." It was him she turned to, not some idiot professor or impotent partner. Him. He was important to her. The entire question of why she called evaporated from his mind.

"Ok, I got to go." *Click*

Christian came downstairs, a questioning look in his eyes.