icecoldfrost | Stackhouse Residence, Tuesday Evening

Everyone had retreated back to Sookie's house to wait on this Alcide man that Eric assured them would, indeed, show. It was just before dawn when a huge truck with Herveaux and Son printed across the side came up the little dirt drive, and out stepped a large man in flannel and jeans.

Alcide	Alcide checked his cell phone for a moment before looking up again at the assembled group of teenagers. "...this the right place?" he asked gruffly, his accent not quite so twangy as Sookie's, but still definitely Southern. "Y'all need to get to Jackson to look for a, uh...." He consulted the phone again. "Sookie Stackhouse?"
Emma	Emma didn't bother to hide her disdain as she looked him over. "You have got to be kidding," she said to the area at large. "You're the escort?" Totally hitting her mental-radar as not-human, sure, but there was only one of him. Northman could have at least sent them a few minions.
Alcide	Alcide arched a brow in her direction. "Nice to meet you too, miss," he said, crossing his arms. "You're not going to find a better escort this side of the law. I know what you're going up against better than anyone who'd actually cooperate with you. You want the little girl back, don't you?"
Emma	"There's only one of you," Emma pointed out, speaking slowly in case he was just as slow as Beeeeeeeeeeeell. "Northman promised assistance, implying people, not a lone tour guide."
Alcide	"I ran with the Jackson pack," Alcide said, just as slowly as he stared at her. "Any of y'all werewolves? 'Cause you sure as hell don't smell like us. I'm your in. You stand no chance of getting her back without me to get you in to the people who took her."
Emma	"You could say I'm a shifter of a different type," Emma demurred. "Worst-case scenario, I start knocking heads together, but I prefer to avoid the more obvious displays of violence."
Alcide	"You need me to get in, in any case," Alcide replied, shaking her head. "These weres are rough, and sure as can be, you can do some damage. I don't doubt that. But we don't have to make it violent before it needs to be. They all know me, and will let me in to let you snoop around. We don't tell them you're anything unless they ask."
Emma	"I don't generally tell people when I'm up to no good," Emma promised. "Even when they ask. So do try not to fret overly much."
Kennedy	Kennedy, who was perched on the arm of the sofa with one foot up in casual disregard for the upholstery, let that foot go thudding back to the floor after overhearing what Alcide had to say to Emma. "Of course he's a werewolf. Of course. This just keeps happening to me," she muttered under her breath. Someday she was going to have friends who weren't friends with werewolves, right?
Alcide	Bless were hearing. Alcide shot her a slightly bemused look. "Got a problem with weres?" he asked mildly. "'Sides the fact that a bunch of 'em took your friend. We aren't all bad."
Kennedy	"Yeah, in my world we have less of a fuzzy-line issue there," replied Kennedy, who really had no idea. "Which I'm starting to get might be an exclusive to my wacky reality. It's a thing, but it's cool, this is me, adjusting."

Alcide	"So," Alcide said, tilting his head back a bit as soon as he hit the highway, so he could talk to everyone crammed into the little cab of his truck. "Sounds like what we're lookin' for is weres. That's why Eric called me in. I'm not just transporting you. I'm your ticket in to finding those boys who got your friend. I'll take you by the usual places -- someone'll be bound to say something we can use. And then it's just gettin' y'all and your friend back to Bon Temps." He looked a little uneasy, and added, "I feel none too proud about taking a bunch of teenagers into this kind of situation, but Eric said you can handle yourselves, right?
Karla	"Oh yes," Karla said, giving him a smile that showed a lot of teeth. "We're well-equipped to take care of trouble. Getting into it or out."
Alcide	"Yeah, I don't doubt you," Alcide admitted, trying not to wince. Younger and younger these days, though he could tell none of them were weres. "How do y'all feel about grown men big as -- or bigger'n -- me, who can turn into wolves? Sounds like something y'all can handle?" He wasn't being condescending. He honestly just didn't know how to feel about sending a pack of teenagers into something this dangerous.
Karla	Karla shrugged. "Isn't something I've seen before. How do you feel about young girls who can light fires with their hands or create whips of energy?" she countered. Because, really, if he had some heretofore unknown problem with people with powers, now would be a really good time to say.
Alcide	"That I wouldn't wanna be on their bad side," Alcide replied evenly after a moment.
Karla	That earned a smile from her at least. "Good answer," she said.

Bobby	Bobby shrugged. "I've been handling 'this kind of situation' since I was fourteen," he said. "And I'm pretty sure everyone here could make a similar claim."
Alcide	"You got experience with weres?" Alcide asked, surprised as he twisted to glance at Bobby. "Eric didn't tell me what any of you were, just that you could handle yourselves, and that the girl's special, too. But you don't smell like shifters, and you're out in the day."
Bobby	Bobby... tried to remember if he'd ever dealt with an actual werewolf. Or were-anything. And, okay, he was pretty sure that he hadn't, technically, but he had faced a lot of weird crap. "If you really want to know?" Bobby said, letting ice form around his hands and forearms like a pair of bizarre gauntlets. "I'm a mutant." It felt so weird just... saying it like that. "Do I smell any different?" he had to ask, after a pause.
Alcide	"You do," he said, nodding. "Different from humans, anyway. You and the blonde with the attitude have similar scents, too -- some kinda common ancestor or something. But none of y'all smell human, not entirely."

Kennedy	"Pssh," Kennedy said scornfully. She was grateful to be on the small side at the moment, but still? Kinda scrunched here. "Not to sound broken-record or anything, but I'm totally qualified to handle myself, okay?"
Alcide	"So I'm gathering," Alcide said dryly. "Makes me sad, in a way. Y'all can't be older'n seventeen. But I'm glad I don't have to babysit."
Kennedy	"Yeah, I'm not sure anyone would want to babysit this bunch," Kennedy remarked, glancing around at their group. "Not enough hair dye in the world for the instant stress-aging we'd cause." God, Kennedy. Don't sound proud of that.