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Summary: After being very helpful around the store, Junayd returns from helping Hannah with her wolfsbane and gets a well-deserved dose of praise from Emeline.

Date It Happened: January 16th 2002


Lin Sister Herbal

It didn't take him long to carry the boxes out to Hannah's car, nor did it take too long for Junayd to finish his little chat with her. When he enters the store again, he's wearing a scowl, but it's soon covered up again by a bright and cheerful smile. Because he knows he's in trouble, and he's not going to be making the ensuing chewing-out easy.

"Oh, drop the grin, June." Emeline rolls her eyes and puts the catnip jar back behind the counter where it will be difficult for him to get at. Cleaning things up off the counter doesn't take too long and then she sees about putting some food into the bird cage. "You were a jerk."

"Did I mention that you look lovely today? Have you been doing something different with your hair?" No, he does not drop the grin. He moves toward the counter, though, and peers over it at the bag of 'laundry' he left. Nope, it hasn't moved. Still there. Still smells like death. Junayd watches it carefully.

Rolling her eyes - again - Emeline gestures at the stinky looking bag. "Would you please get that bag of whatever it is out of here. It's stinking up the store." Still annoyed, she steps out of the way so that he can go do that. Certainly annoyed, and even more so at his attitude, she just gives an exasperated sigh.

"Rats," he says matter-of-factly as he hops over the counter to retrieve the bag. Then without even a pause, Junayd switches topics again and glances up at Emeline: "I was a jerk because you don't want those sorts in here. Bad for business and your health if they know where you are." And then once again, a fluid change in subject: he opens the bag and glances down into it. "Want to see? I got a really big one in here somewhere. I think Lewanda might like it."

"You mean customers? Yes. I do want those sorts in here." Emeline wrinkles her nose at the mention of what's in there. "Rats? Don't bring rats into my shop." Sighing, she goes about straightening things up after the customers. "And it's not bad for business to have any sort of customers here. And I don't understand what you're problem is when you have the same issues." As for Lewanda liking a big rat, she shakes her head quite vigorously. "I…don't think so. Maybe if it was only a bone."

But Junayd starts rummaging about in the bag anyway, looking for the Big One that he got. "Well I couldn't leave them out there. The others would have gotten them." And by "others" he means "cats". "They're shifters. If they know where you are, they might drop by one night in a less friendly form and take more than a few herb— AHA!" And from out of the bag, he yanks an enormous and bloodied rat by the tail. It looks a little smaller than a half-matured cat and there's a hole through its ribs that looks as though it came from a crossbow bolt. It's held aloft with no small sense of pride. "I might keep the tail."

"If they were going to steal from me, they wouldn't have bought rather expensive things for me, either." Emeline sighs. "You're a shifter, June. Are you saying you're going to come back in some sort of unfriendly form and steal from me? I mean, you've already taken all the rats. For goodness sake, put that back. That's rancid." Turning away from the sight, she pushes a large jar back against the shelf it's on to make sure it doesn't tip.

"Emmy, you're not that dense. You know I'm talking about them killing you." Junayd drops the rat back into the bag and slings it over a shoulder. "And yes, I very well could kill you. Why do you think I keep the cage?" But this is getting into a topic he doesn't like to discuss, so he changes it: "Those pants do very good things for your backside."

"No, I'm not dense." Emeline rolls her eyes at June. "I know you could. I'm just saying that you're being quite the hypocrite. I'm sure they're people who are just as good as you are who are under unfortunate circumstances. If some herbs can help them, then they help them." There's a loud thud as the wooden box she was straightening is put down roughly. "Do you do that on purpose? The whole 'not taking anything seriously' thing? Or do you do it just to annoy me?"

Sure, they're good people, which is why Junayd has never hunted them in human form. But they're not good creatures, which is why he hunts them in their other forms. And he, of course, doesn't mention that Hannah can control her shifts. That would just be undermining his point. He just grins. "Well, you do have this appealing look you get when you're annoyed. And I was being serious. Have you seen yourself in a mirror today?" And then he lets out a low whistle.

"Complimenting me doesn't make me any less annoyed with you, Junebug." And that's the truth. Emeline flips her hair behind her shoulder and rolls her eyes, moving toward the back room so that she can go get some files. "I'm in charge of keeping this place standing and in business while the Lins aren't able to. And if you chase away customers and insult them, then I'm not going to allow you in the store during store hours any more. That's it."

Junayd remains behind the counter and waits until Emeline is in the back room before he crouches and starts searching for the catnip jar. He can still smell it after it was opened and … and … he just wants a nibble. "If you say so," he mutters absently.

"Don't you dare, Junebug." Emeline shouts from the other room. It's like she has some sort of second sense for that sort of thing. Coming back into the room with a thick folder, she glares at him. She knew he was going to do that. "Put. That. Back."

There! There it is! Glory! Junayd is just drawing out the jar when there's that shout from the back, and he frowns. Damn it. But he ca— no, because then Emeline comes back into the room. He stares at her over his shoulder with the look of a sullen child who has been found with his hand in the cookie jar and yet does not feel terribly remorseful — just regretful that he wasn't fast enough. He slowly slides the jar back into its spot and rises. Sulk. "Stop calling me Junebug." He didn't correct her before because she hadn't told him he couldn't have catnip. Little retaliations: they make it work.

"Maybe if you stopped being a wanker I'd stop calling you Junebug." It's only because of that maybe that she can even say that. It's conditional and therefore makes it okay. Emeline rolls her eyes. "Now step away from the catnip. God, at least when you were a cat, this sort of thing was understandable."

Sulk. Junayd picks up his bag of rats and shuffles out from behind the counter. "You just don't realize how good it is," he grunts. "You've never tried it." Clearly being a cat has enlightened him as to the glories of catnip. All other humans have an inferior knowledge.

"You're right. I'm not insane." Cats. Ugh. Why did he have to become a cat. At least birds are manageable. She can keep them in cages. Emeline sighs. "Why can't you be normal just sometimes?"

"'Why can't you be normal just sometimes?'" Junayd repeats, only making it sound a lot more childish and ridiculous. Neenerneenerneener. In a normal voice, he adds, "Why can't you be crazy just sometimes?" So there.

"Because I'm already crazy," Emeline tells him with a sweet smile. Because he's being ridiculous and he should know it. "Maybe you should take some yoga classes or something. Or some anger management courses."

"Y'know what's a good for anger management?" asks Junayd. "Sex. So let's you and I go back to the apartment, get down to our nothings, and manage a bit of anger." Because he hasn't gotten laid in forever (being a cat does not count, okay) and after that irritating werewolf was in here, he's got an itch.

"What, so you can hunt a rat right in the middle? I don't think so." Emeline opens her folder and starts shifting through what's in there to organize and file. "If porking someone will really make you less of a wanker, then go to a bar like any other male and pick up some barfly."

"I was thinking we could mutually work off some steam and be sweeter for it." Not really, he was just thinking of getting laid. But he's Junayd. He wouldn't be if he didn't pick on Emeline. "Besides, you won't let me bring women home, remember? And I'm not going to spend for a hotel."

"I don't want some random slutty woman in my apartment." Emeline says with a snort, flipping a page with a certain amount of attitude. "And I'm not about to be one of your slutty women." There's a snicker. "That's why you go to her place."

Junayd grimaces a little. "No, because then I know where they live, and that's dangerous. We've been over this." He sighs. "I guess I'm just stuck being a wanker." He even replicates the British accent on that last word, for extra kicks. "And I guess you're just stuck with me being a wanker."

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