http://realestate.yahoo.com/promo/celebrity-bachelor-pads.html (http://realestate.yahoo.com/promo/celebrity-bachelor-pads.html)<br/><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Rake<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Storeroom to Main Floor<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Ry, Jailbait<br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://i1099.photobucket.com/albums/g393/theredfear/MaleCharPics/EduardoVerastegui.jpg)</div><br/><em>The head nurse spoke up. She said leave this one alone. She could tell right right away...</em><br/><br/>Rake prowled out of the storeroom barechested and pulling his brown leather jacket on in place of a shirt which he apparently lost track of at some point in the last hour since he'd vanished into there. The woman who came out a few moments after him on slightly shaky knees and somewhat disheveled hair sat down in the nearest available empty chair and wore a look on her face that rested somewhere in that nebulous void between supremely sore and superbly satisfied.<br/><br/>The locals...for whom this was not an unusual sight...gave their typical reaction. A mix of juvenile hoots and catcalls that would be right at home in a highschool lockeroom. For his part Rake seemed casual and nonplussed as he walked across the mainfloor, weaving between tables as he looked around. Those with a nose for such things would note breifly the scent of sex wafting from the open door, before the Doghouse's more customary scents of booze, beef, and drunken idiocy overpowered it.<br/><br/>Ry would have been hard to miss even without the dress that said some poor bastard was not going to make his car payments this month. He gave her a breif up and down look of approval. Damn. If not for her being a packmate he might have made an exception to his "no-wolfen" rule for her. Well...a Bill Clinton exception anyway. But you don't mess where you eat...that whole storeroom thing not withstanding.<br/><br/>"<strong>Try to at least leave them enough money to pay their tab at the end of the night huh Ry?</strong>" he said with a smirk, knowing those poor bastards were already doomed.<br/><br/>He raised his eyes to Jesse next, and almost cringed inwardly. It was no secret Rake got around of course. But around Jesse he usually tried to be more discreet about it. He wasn't a moron, even if he enjoyed playing the role. Nor was he blind. He realized she had a crush on him...but even a schoolgirl crush can be a damned powerful thing and he tried to avoid rubbing her nose in his flings.<br/><br/>So of course Rake decided to resolve this potentially awkward social situation with tried and true age-old wisdom that men throughout history...both human and inhuman alike...had proven effective time and again.<br/><br/>He ignored it. Science had categorically proven that ignoring problems makes them go away. He would go to his grave swearing by this wisdom. So borrowing the example of animal-brother Ostrich, he just acted casual, like nothing was amiss. With a chipper and upbeat tone he said "<strong>Hey Jess. Didn't think you'd be back for a few more hours at least. Did you see Baron</strong>..."<br/><br/>There was a breif pause. As if he was actually daring to consider the possibility of just saying 'Baron'. But he was tempting fate enough as it was. No, he would not risk the tiny little blonde one's fury. He finished the name.<br/><br/>"...<strong>von Snugglebottoms yet? Poor little guy's been moping around since you left like somebody stole his puppy</strong>."