Meanwhile, on the other side of Vineyard.
The cold sat thick between the apartment blocks, packed into the narrow walkways and stairwells like it had nowhere else to go.
Finch moved through it steadily, his massive paws sinking slightly with each step, claws clicking faintly when he hit exposed concrete. In his polar bear form, he filled the corridor completely, shoulders brushing close to the walls, white fur catching the dim light from broken fixtures overhead. Heat rolled off him in waves, visible against the cold.
Rose lay draped across his back like she owned the space and she really did, one arm hooked lazily over his shoulder, the other resting across the curve of her stomach. "If you drop me," she muttered, voice flat, "I'm killing you."
Finch didn't even turn his head. "You've said that three times."
"And I'll say it again, it's called consistency."
"You're not exactly easy to drop."
She shifted slightly "That was a comment on your grip, not my weight."
"Mm."
