Duncan was in bed with Esmeralda. They had just reenacted thier first night together, with a few adjustments. Duncan had ripped off Esmeralda's clothes when they came into the room. He had tilted her, french kissed her, and in the process jumped her on the bed. Narrowly avoiding being suffocated in her boobs, he only paid them brief attention before turning his attention to the main event.
"So Dunc," said Esmeralda, stroking her hand through his shaggy hair on top of his head (usually concealed by his baseball cap), "didn't I tell you you ought to marry me?"
"Yeah Esmeralda," said Duncan, "You were right, I wouldn't of trading being in bed with you, robbing banks, and being a werewolf for anything in the world."
It was mostly true. After fucking Esmeralda, he was entirely hers. Except he was never entirely reconciled to being a werewolf.
Their reunion was interupted by a phone call. Duncan go it.
"The damn Cops are coming here," he said. He got his clothes on and started packing. "We've got to get the hell out of here."
After shrugging her shoulders, Esmeralda got dressed and packed as well.