BRANDON MOLL--

Hawaii was like its own country, things that happened on the mainland, often didn't transfer to Hawaii. It also helped that Hawaii was 4 hours behind the mainland. With Honolulu getting near 300 days of sunshine, it was another country. But, as with everywhere. Monsters lurked in the dark, and Brandon was one of them. Nobody knew though, having gone through medical school to be a morgue technician. It was a terrible job, but someone had to do it. And Brandon needed to live.

Now, he just needed to keep all this from Bekah. With her being a hunter and all. Brandon didn't really want to end up dead because she sniffed him out. So, instead of hiding and skulking in the shadows. He hid in plain sight. Worked part time at the bar with her, lived a 'normal' life, if you will. For all intents and purposes, he was just another normal person with normal people problems.

Today was the day of the big game and the bar was packed with people wanting to watch the game. Brandon was helping out where he could while trying not to run into Bekah, their relationship wasn't a secret. Having hit it off so well with her just over a few months ago when he moved here. Now, they were nearly inseparable.

"I'm glad today is the final game of this sport for a few months. I could maybe spend it better working on my tan, or going surfing." grinning as he stuck a glass under one of the beer spouts and pulled the lever as the light golden liquid started coming out and filling up the glass.


REBEKAH BOWER--

Bekah sighed as she slipped around Brandon to deliver another round of beers to the particularly loud group of men at the very end of the bar. “Surfing,” she said decisively, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she turned her head back to look at him. “Go with the surfing. I'm not going to listen to you whine when you end up with a sunburn.” A flash of a smirk, and she was gone, moving from behind the bar to start to circulate around the room, checking here and there on customers.


She wished, briefly, she could have life as carefree as Brandon always seemed to. But, that was probably a large part of the attraction. Well, that, and he just looked <i>fine</i> out on the beach, chest bared to the sun, those arms rippling with muscle.


She shook her head, running a hand through her hair to shove it away from her face, and mentally kicked herself for letting her mind drift. Even in a perfectly normal situation like working on Superbowl Sunday in the bar, she really couldn't afford to let herself relax that much. Hunters, even part-time ones, just couldn't ever quite have that normal a life. Things might be different here in Hawaii, but that didn't make the potential for danger any less.


She slipped back around the bar, dropping empty glasses into a tub already nearly filled with them, and went back to helping fill glasses as fast as orders came in. As she did so, she watched Brandon out of the corner of her eye, indulging, maybe a bit, in just enjoying the view. Finally, she leaned closer to him, letting the noise in the bar cover her whisper. “How long do you think before things slow down? I <i>really</i> need to get out of here.” A flash of a grin accompanied her whisper to cover her growing frustration. She really, really hated football.


BRANDON--

"Game starts in about 2 hours." saying with a grin as he looked over his shoulder at her. "So, probably 5-6 hours, that's when the game is going to be over." winking at her, then stealing a quick kiss from her as he pulled the beer back from the tap and gave it to one of the bar patrons as he looked at the time, then back over at her. "Go. I'll cover for you for an hour. It's probably going to be steady." Brandon didn't mind working on Superbowl Sunday, its where you can make at least 25-30% more in tips than a regular day. Brandon knew what she did on the side, he had to know and make sure he stayed clear of her activities.

"Let me know if you run into trouble." smirking as he gets a new order from another waitress. Looking it over, he grabs the bottles of liquor and starts pouring. Brandon wondered what she was going out doing, he wouldn't be able to slip away and watch her, make sure she didn't fumble. Then again, she never did. She was a pro at it, even if the monsters on the islands were a dwindling population. Could you imagine a place with no monsters? It would be amazing. But then, Brandon would be dead with them. So…

Maybe just a place where all the monsters that liked to eat people were gone? It was a compromise. Getting the drinks onto a serving tray, he slides it over to the waitress before coming back and grabbing Bekah by the waist before she could leave him. "After the bar closes, I was thinking we could go out to the beach and build a fire. What do you think?" saying as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Brandon wasn't sure exactly how Bekah didn't figure out how he was a monster, but chalked it up as to being just good at what he did.

Of course, this meant never, ever having a normal life. No kids, probably no long time relationships… he'd have to 'screw' it up purposefully. But, for now. This would work, stealing a quick kiss. "Be good, and be safe."


REBEKAH--

Unable to help herself, she rolled her eyes. The one thing she liked about this job, aside from the fact that it was legit money she didn't have to scam for – which, while she understood why many hunters did it, she personally despised – was that it often allowed her free time, off and on – while actually earning money – to spend time researching or looking for cases. Except, of course, for the major sporting events, which always brought the people out in droves. Fucking football, anyway.


The kiss, though she probably wouldn't have admitted it if asked, went a long way to cheering her. Probably even as much as his offer to cover for her. “It'll be fine. I'll just be around the corner,” she replied lightly, casually. She had her temporary escape, but she hesitated, watching him, wondering what in the actual hell she was doing with him. Really, she had no right to be close to him, close to anyone. All she'd do is all she'd ever done, and drag him down with her. Hunters didn't get to do normal, not ever.


Arms slid around her waist, breaking her out of her thoughts. She blinked, looking up at him. She thought about his offer, a slow smile replacing the grim look that she had worn just moments before. “That,” she said with genuine enthusiasm, “sounds like a wonderful idea.” The beach was her favourite place to unwind, and, more and more lately, Brandon was her favourite person to unwind with. It was a problem she might have to force herself to deal with. Sooner rather than later. But, for now, she would enjoy it while it lasted.


She met his kiss, head tipped up, eyes closed, just letting herself feel for that brief moment. Then, she slipped out of his otherwise welcome embrace, her lips twitching into a grin. “I'm always safe, but rarely good.” She turned, tossing her hair over her shoulder in what was obviously a habitual motion, and wove her way around the other staff as they worked, making her way to the back door, and slipping out it.


Once outside, she pushed the door shut firmly behind her, and looked up and down the alley as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She tapped out a quick reply to the text she'd gotten just before work, then slipped the phone carefully back into her pocket. Everything about her seemed to shift, her entire body language changing from relaxed and casual, to tense, alert, and focused. She turned to the right, stepping down the alley, listening for every little sound, just as she would on a hunt. Oh, she wasn't actively hunting now, not this time. She was off to meet with a contact only in town for the day, to acquire some rather specialized items needed to take down – permanently – the creature she'd been tracking for the past week.


She hadn't even had to lie to Brandon; she really was going to be just around the corner. Exiting the alley, she turned and made her way down to the end of the block, to the little cafe on the corner. Inside, standing out like a sore thumb in his leather coat, worn jeans, and workman's boots, sat her contact. She shook her head, amused as his refusal to do anything to account for the warm humid air. It was something she'd noted of most of the mainland hunters; they seemed to feel it was their duty to wear what almost amounted to a uniform, and they often stuck to it no matter what. Unless, of course, they were doing the usual trick of posing as some sort of Fed.


Joe,” she greeted him, amused when he rose and hugged her, though she didn't hesitate to return his hug. He gestured for her to sit down, and she considered it, then dismissed the offer with a shake of her head. She felt a bit guilty for leaving Brandon to cover for her as it was, she didn't intend to be gone any longer than she had to. “Sorry, I gotta get back to the bar. I've only got a few minutes.”


The man, Joe, shook his head fondly, resuming his seat. “Alright, girl. I get it. Just don't forget what your <i>real</i> job is. Doin' that's a good way to lose your head.” She flashed him a smile, holding out her hand silently. It wasn't worth even responding to his admonishment. They both knew damn well she never let herself forget, and never would. Still, it was an old, familiar ritual between them, and she appreciated it.


Shrugging, Joe dropped a small plastic baggie into her hand, a few twigs visible through the clear plastic. She held it up to look at the contents, them grinned down at Joe. “Thanks! I owe you one,” she said, leaning down to drop a quick kiss on the weathered skin of his stubble-covered cheek.


Yeah, I'll just add it to your growing tab,” Joe replied with a chuckle. “You just be careful. I mean it, Bekah.”


I will, Joe. Always am. I'm still alive, huh?” She shrugged, then sighed. “Look, I really have to get back. They're swamped today. Stupid football.” She rolled her eyes, and then grinned at his easy laugh. “I'll let you know how it goes,” she said over her shoulder, already turned and heading out to go back to the bar.


BRANDON--