Safety Has A Tail and Horns

2

Shane's head buzzed incessantly. Next to him, Ryan was absentmindedly doodling pentagrams (the upside down ones, not the right-side-up pentacles) on a piece of paper, scrolling through information on potential locations for their next episode.

Shane squeezed his eyes shut, wishing to God - or Satan, now, he supposed - that he could get Ryan to stop doodling those fucking symbols without being asked questions. He "didn't believe in the supernatural," so what was there to be scared of in those drawings? That's what Ryan would bite back with, anyway.

He let out a heavy sigh, taking his headphones off his ears and standing, walking to the coffee machine a ways away. The buzzing faded slightly with the increased distance, but it still sounded like there were flies in his head.

He stared at the coffee machine, silently willing it to go faster so he could wash away how out of place he felt. Humans drank coffee. Shane drank coffee. He fit in.

Sort of.

He tapped his foot, impatient, until finally the machine spit the rich, brown liquid into his mug emblazoned with the logo for Unsolved. He tipped it back into his mouth, barely feeling the burn on his tongue.

He fit in.

"You good, man?" Ryan asked as Shane sat down, mug half full now.

"Mhm," he answered, probably too quickly.

"Oh. Okay, you just seem more fidgety than normal."

"Sorry."

"Nothing to worry about, big guy." Ryan gave Shane a playful punch on the shoulder before turning back to his computer screen.

At least the buzzing had stopped.

Shane tried to focus on his own work, but at this point it seemed nearly impossible. A glance at the clock told him that, thankfully, the end of work was merely 15 minutes away.

He looked at Ryan out of the corner of his eye. It was far more reassuring to see his eyes as their normal coffee brown rather than the unsettling golden hue that had settled on them weeks earlier.

Weeks. Shane leaned back in his chair and reflected on the time that had passed between him losing his soul and now. Weeks.

He had learned in this time mostly how to get the horns and claws and such under control, and in the mirror he looked almost human to himself. Obviously others couldn't see it unless his guard was down and they were allowed to, or if he got stuck in some sort of demon trap. He also discovered that his cat seemed a little more wary around him, though was still delighted to receive food and attention, as all cats are.

Then finally, finally, those 15 minutes were up. Shane stood, taking his empty mug with him and setting it in the sink, letting it "soak" even though there had only been that one cup of coffee in it.

"I've got some ideas for our next location," Ryan informed Shane, falling into step with him as he left the building.

"Mhm," Shane said, only half paying attention.

"There's a college in Wisconsin-the one in Madison-that apparently has a haunted building on campus. A group of college freshmen went up there to spend the night but couldn't even last a couple hours. Seemed like something right up your alley."

"Sounds interesting," Shane agreed, wishing he had remembered his sunglasses. His eyes had become a bit more sensitive to light, and the sun was unforgiving.

"Not much to fill an episode, though," he continued.

"Oh, yeah," Ryan said. "I guess so."

"It's an idea, though. Keep it in mind."

"I'll write it down somewhere."

"I should get you a little ghost-shaped notepad," Shane laughed. "Write down all our location ideas on it. That's probably the only real ghost you'll ever find."

"Was that a probably I heard?"

"No."

Ryan narrowed his eyes, but he was smiling. "Liar."

"You have no proof, therefore I could very easily be telling the truth," Shane said with a shrug. He was smiling, too.

"Asshole."

"No need to be rude, Ryan," Shane gasped in mock offense, putting a hand over his heart.

"You're being an asshole, though," Ryan laughed. Shane shook his head.

"And here I thought we were friends."

"We are friends," Ryan said. "I know everything about you, big guy."

"Yeah."

Not everything.