"What's going on here?", the man yelled, with his son in his arms, beside the mother holding her daughter's hand. They were all staring at Eric and Matt. "Who are you?"

Matt gave Eric a small push, warning him not to say anything. He got up and began his lie, which avoided physical violence. "Sorry to scare you like this. We had an accident in our car and my son threw up. I brought him over here to sit down, if you don't mind." Eric tried not to smile from the sidelines, knowing it was the perfect explanation.

The mother showed signs of concern. "Oh, well I know how that feels." She gave her daughter a pat on the head, most likely referring to her pregnancy. "Is he okay now? No, wait, bring him inside. I'll get some Pepto-Bismol. It'll help soothe the nausea." She signaled her husband to help her with the kids while she accommodated Eric and Matt into their house. Their home was warm and inviting, filled with toys and games for the kids. The mother was about the average height for a female, - which was around 5'7" - while the father was a bit taller than his sex's average, at about 5'11". They both had brown hair and seemed to have been bordering their 30's, but the mother looked much younger with the makeup she was wearing. She also wore small glasses which suited her well, and had a nice contour which most likely appealed to anyone. Her husband had a short and purposely unshaven beard, which fit well with his rugged skin; however, he seemed sophisticated and intelligent, which hid beneath his tough look.

Their children were very young. Their son was around 7 months old, which showed why his parents picked him up everywhere they went. Their daughter was around two and a half years old, and was on the verge of saying her first sentences. To Eric, they seemed like balls of energy just waiting to burst.

The mother came out of the first floor bathroom with a pink bottle and a teaspoon from the kitchen. She handed it to Matt who fed one spoonful to Eric. He frowned at the taste, which felt funny to him. He sunk into the chair he was in, trying to fake an uncomfortable state, and was soon accompanied by the two adults, who sat on the opposite side of them.

"So, what happened?", the mother wondered, clearly trying to get involved.

"Oh, it wasn't much of a big deal", Matt answered in reply. "It was just a side collision which made us spin out. I'm fine, and Eric seems like it too." He glanced down at his wrist watch, clearly trying to create an excuse to leave. "Actually, we should probably get going."

"No, no, stay a bit", the father interjected with a strange edge to his voice. "We don't mind having you here for a while."

Eric and Matt did not seem to like where this was going, but they politely accepted anyway. The father continued. "So, where are you two boys from? It seems like you're from around here, am I right?"

"Well, we're from around Thunder Bay; yeah, not too far from here", Eric responded. For some reason, Matt shot back a disapproving glance. At the time, Eric did not see it, but Matt seemed to have known exactly what would ensue.

"Is that right?", the mother muttered, trying to seem surprised while she drank a bit of her Tim Horton's coffee. "You both seem strangely familiar, for some reason."

Then there was a long pause. The jig was up. The father immediately gave Matt a menacing stare, whose target launched one right back. Suddenly, the father's hand began to change; the bones shifted positions, and claws quickly grew out of the tips of his fingers. The skin was also replaced with brown fur, triggering muscle growth in his arm. The man was obviously a TFR, however neither of them could tell of what species. The father then spoke in a much deeper tone "Get out of my house, and get away from my family..."

Both Eric and Matt's hearts were beating fast. Matt knew he had absolutely no time to shift to defend himself, and nor could Eric, who would have taken too long no matter the situation. Matt reacted quickly and lifted the right side of his shirt, revealing the firearm hanging on his belt. He tried to seem as menacing as his opponent was. "I'd advise you not to try anything drastic."

There was tension for quite a while after that moment. The mother was scared, but not petrified, and Eric was simply waiting to see what was going to happen, ready to react at any instant. No one moved a single muscle for quite some time - both men were too hesitant to make the opening move. Fortunately for Matt, the father backed up into his chair, shifted his hand back to normal, and shut his eyes in frustration. He knew a gun overpowered him, and he did not want to risk his life over it. Matt wanted to pull the gun out of his pocket to menace the man even further, but instead he glanced towards the children, who were playing a few meters from them to the left. Although he seemed reckless, Matt did not want to hurt anyone - especially not an innocent family member. To Eric's surprise, Matt repositioned his shirt back to where it was, as he and the mother both let out a quiet breath of relief. The father calmed down, but remained vigilant.

"So, why were you murderers in our backyard?", he persisted, pushing Matt as hard as he could for the answer.

Matt was on the verge of speaking; however, he was quickly slammed down by Eric's voice. "We were being chased by the cops. We stole the Civic from a woman we killed and we ran here." Matt gave another disapproving look, which showed how extremely mad he was getting. "It wasn't technically our fault, though. We never wanted to cause harm to anybody, but the police and media constantly portray it that way. I didn't mean to kill those two kids at school, and if we had the choice, we never would have killed the lady for her car."

The mother, overtaken by the honesty in his words, took her turn to speak. "Well then, what did happen?"

Eric then briefly explained everything which had taken place - from the incident against Bob Turner to his first transformation, from the triple murder to the car theft, all the way to their present situation. He had finally finished his story with the attention of both the parents, - including the father, who had calmed into his human form - who showed signs of sympathy. In an awkward moment, the whole group turned to look at the kids, who were laughing at each other for no apparent reason. Matt glanced at them with a smile, which the mother noticed, erasing every single doubt she had over their story. While the father did not show any sign of such actions, he did not seem to contradict her thoughts. Finally, after a whole minute watching the kids play around, Matt took note of the time, - 7:00pm - and blurred out a sign of surprise. They had been there for over 15 minutes already.

"Uhh, Eric, we should really be going." Eric nodded in approval, and they both got up; however, before they even managed to get to the door, the mother got up and stopped them.

"Wait a second, you two." She let out a sigh, clearly showing her will to help. "I think Xavier and I would both agree you've been through a lot, and that the world seems to be taking you the wrong way. So, I think the least we could do, would be to help you out a little." She looked back at Xavier, who replied with a contradicting blank stare, disapproving the offer; however, he quickly shook it away, remembering that the wife always won, and that there was no point in fighting back.

"Oh", Matt mumbled, uncomfortable with the offer. "Well, thanks, but we already have a lot of money on our hands. We wouldn't want to be a burden - we'll manage just fine."

Xavier allowed a silent sigh of relief escape through his nose, but it was quickly canceled away with his wife's subsequent comments. "Uhh, no, I wasn't talking about financial help. What I meant to say, was that since you guys were heading to Angle Inlet, I wouldn't see the problem in driving you there ourselves. Our minivan shouldn't be a problem; the windows are tinted, and the kids'll be in there, so even if we do get stopped, we'll look perfectly normal." She looked back at her husband with a smile. "Isn't that right, honey?"

He looked up, clearly frustrated, but forcefully nodded in approval with an ersatz smile in order to please her. Matt carefully pondered over the offer. "Well, I suppose it would be a safer alternative to what we originally had in mind, but do you really think bringing your children would be such a good idea?"

"Oh, a little drive won't hurt them", she said with a large smile, while looking at the kids, who continued to play with their toy trucks. "So, if you're coming, you should park your Civic in the back, and we'll take care of it later. No harm there, right?"

"I suppose not, thanks", Matt said, forcing himself to smile. Although he appreciated the nice gesture from the family, he felt uncomfortable bringing four additional people along with him and Eric. The former, in contrast, did not mind as much. He knew it was a much better alternative to their original plan, and he anticipated the kids would become good company to have around as well. Ultimately, he knew they had made the correct decision.

...

"You people are absolutely worthless!"

Furious, he walked around the room, pacing to try and calm himself down once again. It had been five hours since the chase, and there was still no sign of their two wanted men anywhere. He wondered how two targets as hunted as they were could easily dissipate into society. The police had scanned over 100 kilometers of ground, and the only traces they had found were shattered glass pieces along the highway, a few kilometers west of the shooting. When he thought of the above for the umpteenth time, he began to yell once more.

"Where the hell is that stupid Civic?! If I don't get a license plate number or something, I'm going to pound each and every one of you so hard, that you'll wanna--"

"Uhh, sir?" This came from a woman in the back, whose eyes were the only things visible to Alan. "We can get the license plate easily. So, with all due respect, why didn't you ask for this before?"

Alan gawked at his team for a few seconds, before slamming the desk in front of him. "Why didn't I ask you?! Well maybe because you are all supposed to be qualified in this department! Jesus Christ, if I have to tell you what to look for, then maybe that would be the reason we never found this stupid dragon in the first place! Now get the license plate from the Civic they stole, and find that car, damn it!"

Suddenly, the phone rang. The informant nearest to it picked it up and answered, before covering the microphone with his hand and directing his attention towards his boss at the front. "Mr. Parker; it's the CIA guy."

Parker turned towards him and sighed, relieving his tension. "Alright. Transfer it to my secretary; she'll send it to my office. I don't want to see any of your faces for a while..."

He walked over to his office and picked up the phone, which had already begun to buzz. He waited for a click, which then transferred him to the head of the CIA.

"Hey there, Parker!", Tom Benson said, obviously mocking him. "It's nice to hear from you again."

Alan rolled his eyes, irritated. "Yeah, yeah, cut the crap. What is it, we're busy."

"Well hang on there; we're not in any huge rush. Relax. I've got this all under control."

"Oh yeah?", Alan spat, aggravated over his correspondent's take of the situation. "And what makes you so sure of that? We've been over here working our god damn asses off, while you're over where ever the hell you are, doing absolutely nothing, presumably."

"Wow, Parker; those are some harsh words you've got there, but shamefully, with nothing to back it up. I've already initiated a widespread search in Thunder Bay about three hours ago. We've already questioned locals, witnesses, the family of the victims, the school teachers, you name it. We practically have a full dossier on both of our suckers based on that! And, what have you got so far?"

Alan felt uneasy answering the question. "Well, uhh, glass shards and a license plate number."

"Well, well. It seems the tables have turned, haven't they? Now listen; you work for the government in your fancy-shmancy department of special affairs, but that doesn't give you the right to judge me based on pure opinion like that. Face it Alan - if you can't stand the heat of a chase this hot, then you can simply leave the job to us. We'll do it. We always do. You got that?"

Parker took a moment of silence, before sighing directly into the microphone in defeat. "I suppose."

"Good. I'm glad you agree. Now, pick your little glass shards off of the ground and get something productive done for once."

There was a click, followed by a dead tone. Alan smashed the phone into the receiver, with enough force to dent it. He hated him, but he knew he was correct. If he did not get something productive done shortly, he might as well have given the case over to Benson. Of course, he knew he would not have let that happen. He would make sure something appeared in front of his eyes, whether the CIA liked it or not.