I woke the next morning with my naked ass cuddled into the curve of his boxer-covered crotch, his morning wood pressed against my thigh. Very thankful I was the first to wake...Up until I noticed the rather heavy, and warm, fuzzy log that was his arm imprisoning me in place against him. Not good. For several reasons. Including my very pronounced and urgent need to pee.

I wiggled and squirmed, subconsciously enjoying the human contact, out of his embrace. It wasn't easy. I'm pretty sure it took me a good half hour to manage. But, I was free to sprint to the bathroom in time to empty my bladder where such things were supposed to be done. I was then quite happily clothed as I woke the big giant still snoring away in my bed.

"Let's get going. I have a tour to give you before we meet my brother for dinner, and who knows if something important is going to pop up to interrupt us this time."

Was it just me, or did that come out...slightly wrong. Damn unintentional, unwarranted innuendoes.

Fezzik, as I had taken to calling him, after 'The Princess Bride', never did end up telling me what he wanted to see. In fact, he followed me around all day without saying much of anything at all. I showed him the pack fitness center and gym, started our day out with a light workout. When he refused to say anything still when we finished up a few hours later. – Touring the place, and explaining the rules and how to use each piece of equipment and such of course being the largest block of that time. Me work out for over an hour? That was so not in my job description.

When that was over and he still had yet to give me more than three word answers at a time, I got over my frustration with him and just took him around to the places I wanted to go and hadn't had a chance to in a while. Which mostly consisted of a café, the library, and Barnes and Noble. I was contemplating whether I felt like going to the mall in the human part of town to pass a few hours, or do the responsible thing and look into finding him an apartment of his own – which I'd regret procrastinating later – when I got an phone call from Cynrick.

"I could use some help convincing some of the guys to attend and adhere to the new training regimens you're trying to sic on them. If you want it done, you're going to have to explain it to them."

I sighed heavily; actually somewhat surprised no one had stopped me for something or another before this.

"Come on, Fezzik. You're going to have to meet 'the guys' sooner or later."

Having someone with a brain for economics and culture in a position of power wasn't the only way I was helping to bring my pack to the top. There was also the way I was attempting to slowly bring the pack out of the bloody dark ages strategically thinking. Most other packs still use the 'traditional' fighting methods. That is to say, the biggest wolves in the pack shifting and going at it until one side was driven off. If the matter at hand wasn't serious, that was actually a good way to settle things without killing many people. However, when the shit hit the fan a gun and some booby-traps were all it took to circumvent quite a large number of large, muscle bound, fervid wolf men. Strategy and technology, they would save our lives and take our enemies. With technology those who previously were helpless could stand up. With strategy, battles we previously would have lost could be salvaged, even won.

Of course, there were always going to be call for big strapping muscle men to participate in more 'civilized', 'diplomatic' fights. But, even then, being trained in tactical battle strategy would give them quite a hand up on the competition.

Of course getting those same muscle bound block heads to understand this was proving to be quite a challenge.

"You all watch football, right?"

There were a few shrugs and a few grumbles. One grumbled "we're American" seemed to sum up the whole group. – Werewolves, having an unfair advantage, weren't really allowed to play competitively. Which dampened many's enthusiasm for popular sports.

"Well, if the quarterback says you're going to pull a Hail Mary and you throw to the wrong person, how are you going to win the game?"

"That's kinda the point of a Hail Mary," someone in back grumbled.

"Aint you the quarterback," someone else asked in that 'I obviously have problems with addition and subtraction' durp drawl.

I ground my teeth and clenched my fists. Here I was busting my ass to come up with a comparison their tiny little minds might actually pick up and they were nitpicking the bloody metaphor!

"I had one of those fancy transfer students stay at my house in high school." I turned my head in shock to find Fezzik speaking. In full sentences! "We played touch football once. I told him we were gonna draw. I faked the pass, but then I turned around to hand the ball off he wasn't there to take it. Turns out the kid had no idea what I meant. Knowing plays makes it easier to win a game. Enric, here wants to teach us some new plays to use."

There were some grumbles that said that the group actually seemed to get his point.

I stared at Gladriel in absolute shock.

Had he...Just translated into beef head for me?

I just found a use for him. Who knew?


A.N. As you can probably tell, I know nothing about football. Comments from those who do on how I could change the scene to make sense would be greatly appreciated.

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