Chapter 26

He was going to kill Sheila.

Kit woke up around noon to a dark and empty apartment. Jessie was in school, and Kit was so hung over that his head felt like it was going to explode. Sheila had gotten him so drunk that his memories were fuzzy for about half of last night… but the half that was fuzzy was something he was glad Jessie hadn't seen. She would have absolutely died of mortification… if she didn't haul off and slap Sheila in the face first.

Sheila had outdone herself.

She had taken him to several different clubs, and it was there that she had gotten him drunk, even got him to dance with Danielle and the other Jessie. Once she got him drunk, she took him to an illegal rave, then to illegal street racing, then to an illegal casino out in Bastrop, and then to cap the night, she just had to take him to the Top Hat for the crown of the evening. Sundays were typically femme's night down on the first floor, but while the sorority girls partook of the festivities on the first floor, Sheila had taken him up to the second floor, where he got the only shock big enough to penetrate the haze of alcohol.

Somehow, some way, Sheila had found a cat stripper whose fur was almost the same color as Jessie's, and had the same basic body type. She didn't have a longhaired tail, but she did have the same basic dimensions as Jessie through the bust and hips, and had long blond hair. She looked nothing like Jessie in the face, with much sharper features, but that didn't matter all that much. Sheila had the stripper do a private performance just for him, Sheila giving him a wicked smile when she abandoned him in a small room and the cat came in and gave him a lap dance, and the cat had made it abundantly clear that she had been rented for more than a lap dance, if he was so inclined.

And that was why Sheila was going to die.

Kit was too drunk to pass on the lap dance, but he was nowhere near drunk enough to break his vows to Jessie. The cat had tried very hard to entice him into a one night stand, but he stayed faithful to his wife. And, thankfully, he passed out not long after the cat left the room, which defeated any further attempts Sheila might make to make him stray.

And so, he'd woke up alone around noon, feeling like his head was about to explode. He'd had hangovers before, but never one that severe. He dragged himself to the kitchen and put on water for tea, his paws shaking and his tail quivering, but at least Jessie hadn't had him pour out or give away all of his wine. He used the last bottle to make the Vulpan hangover tonic, which was far more wine than it was honey or tea, but he'd extend the hangover just to take the edge off his splitting headache. He decided he'd rather have a little pain for a while than this kind of pain for a couple of hours.

After his paws stopped shaking like he had palsy, he took very direct action to recover from his hangover. He took an ice cold shower, about four Excedrins, and then rested on the couch until the worst of his headache dulled to a manageable level. He knew that the key to nursing a hangover was alcohol, but alcohol delivered in very small amounts over a long time, allowing his body to slowly descend from the plateau rather than crash hard like it did during a hangover. Besides, the wine also helped buzz off some of the pain, making it more bearable.

He was left alone most of the day, except for one visitor. It was a FedEx driver, who delivered a very large and heavy box. Kit was too tender to care much about what it was, so he put it on the coffee table and left it alone until he felt ready to investigate the matter. Odds were, it was some kind of belated birthday present from someone.

By the time Jessie got home, Kit was recovered enough. She kissed him on the cheek and passed by to put her backpack away, then she came back and sat in his lap, wrapped her arms around him, and gave him a healthy kiss. "Feel better, my handsome fox?" she asked.

"Some. I'm gonna murder Sheila."

"What did she do?"

"She got me too drunk to care about almost everything else she did," he said.

She giggled. "Well, let's hear it. If the cops are gonna break down the door and arrest you, I want to know now," she grinned. He told her about the night, at least what he could solidly remember, and she gasped when he told her where they went last. "She took the girls there?"

"She surely did. Remember, Sunday is Femme's night down on the first floor, so no doubt they got to watch a whole bunch of male strippers. I have no doubt they're hopelessly depraved now," he noted dryly.

"I'm gonna kill her!" Jessie growled. "She shouldn't be taking eighteen year old girls there!"

"Jessie, Sheila is eighteen," Kit noted. "And you have to stand in line to kill Sheila. I get her first."

"What did she do?"

"She hired one of the Top Hat dancers as a hooker," he said, a little indignantly. "And had her try to get me to break my vows."

Jessie gasped, her eyes wide. "She did not!" she gasped, flabbergasted.

"Oh yes she did," Kit intoned. "And I'm gonna spank her narrow little ass as soon as she saunters over here."

"I'm not waiting that long!" Jessie snapped, clearly outraged. She jumped to her feet and pushed the sleeves of her sweater up over her elbows, and marched right out the door without another word.

Kit chuckled. Sheila was about to get her come-uppance.

Kit turned his attention to the box on the table and started to open it when the door banged open. A wild-eyed Sheila was slamming the door behind her and pushing against it with her paws. "Kit!" she said in a strangled voice. "Call her off!"

"What?"

"She tried to spank me!" Sheila said as the door started shuddering as Jessie pounded on it. "Call her off!"

"You deserve to be spanked, girl," Kit accused. "You tried to get me to have an affair!"

"It was just a joke!" she protested. "I know you'd never do it!"

"But you paid a hooker to try!"

"I wanted you to come home and jump Jessie's bones, goof!" she said, pushing her back against the door as an irate Jessie started banging harder. "Hear that, Jessie? I was trying to get his motor started for you!"

"I'll show you a started motor, you skinny little bitch!" Jessie shouted, which shocked Kit. He had never heard her curse in public before, only when she was alone with him.

"Jessie!" Kit called. "Calm down, love."

"Thank you!" Sheila said, but then she yelped when Kit grabbed her arm and yanked her off the door. Jessie barged through it and saw Kit settling back on the couch with Sheila turned over his knee. "Kit! Kit, this isn't funny!" she protested, and she gasped when he jerked on the back of her shorts, yanking them down and baring her furry butt, then he pulled her tail aside and tucked it under his leg.

"Pretty kitty, shut the door. I don't think the courtyard needs to see this," he said mildly.

Jessie grinned and shut the door.

What came next was something Sheila had deserved probably since she was twelve. Kit spanked her, and he did not hold back. Sheila howled and kicked her feet, yowling, crying, even begging, but Kit was implacable. He blistered Sheila's shapely little backside for a good three minutes, spanking her so hard his paw was stinging.

But finally, he relented. He gave her one more hard whack, just for good measure, then pushed on her side. She scrambled off his lap and yanked her shorts up, then put both her paws on her butt and rubbed vigorously, her tail slashing behind her. "That was not funny!" she shouted.

"Neither was trying to get me in bed with a hooker," he retorted. "You acted like a brat, so you got what a brat deserves."

She gave him a hot look, then laughed ruefully. "If you wanted to paw my butt, you should have asked," she grinned. "You may be a cousin, but what's a little friendly pawing between cousins?"

"Still being a brat?" Jessie asked threateningly.

Sheila laughed again. "Will you spank me if I say yes?"

"No, Kit hits much harder than me. I'll let him do it."

Sheila grinned and rubbed her butt again. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry about the hooker. I thought you'd think it was funny, then get so horny you'd run home and give Jessie a hot nightcap. But you passed out before you could seal the deal," she complained. "Really, Kit, you used to be able to drink way better than that! You could drink more than that at fifteen!"

"You drank at eleven?" Jessie gasped.

"I'm a Vulpan, and mom never locked the liquor cabinet," Sheila grinned. "And I was drinking at nine," she corrected. "So, truce?"

"Only if you never do that again," Kit said.

"Deal," she said. "But, did you like the girl I found for you?" she said with a sly smile.

"What?"

"She sent a cat," Kit said. "And one that had the same color fur as you and was your height and size. I think she thought I might mistake her for you in my drunken haze."

"Well," Sheila hummed with a smile, but that smile faded when Jessie growled at her. "I said I won't do it again!" she said quickly, putting up her paws.

"Kit. Love. I think you didn't spank her enough," Jessie said in a low, flinty tone.

"My pretty kitty has spoken," Kit said, advancing on Sheila inexorably.

Sheila wasn't a fool She turned and bolted, and managed to get out the door and run for her life.

"Really!" Jessie fumed, putting her paws on her hips and glaring at the door. "I would never believe she'd do that!"

"I would," Kit said simply. "You can't ever forget, love, Sheila is Sheila, and she doesn't think like a normal fur. There wasn't a single Vulpan except for my mom and dad that was faithful in the marriage. Her own mom cheats on her dad, and vice versa, and they don't really hide it from each other. She doesn't see me having a tryst with a hooker as anything out of the ordinary compared to the rest of the family or as a threat to my marriage, since all the Vulpans cheat on their spouses. It's almost expected. She doesn't see it the way we do."

"She'd better, or I'll blister her butt!" Jessie declared, her tail slashing in anger. "You're not going to cheat on me, buster!"

"I know I won't," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a light kiss.

"Shew! Godzilla breath," Jessie giggled, waving her paw between their noses.

"Sorry. I'll go brush my teeth."

"I'll make you some more tea," she offered. "What's in the box?"

"No idea, look it over while I'm fixing my Godzilla breath," he answered.

When he finished brushing his teeth, he came out and saw that she'd opened the box. Inside were stacks of manuals, small software boxes, CD cases, and books. "They're here already!" Jessie said in surprise, looking at one. Kit saw that each one had a Post-it on it that had either his or Jessie's names on it, and each one, he realized, was from Cessna. He picked one up and saw that it was the manual for a Citation CJ-2's avionics system.

"Well, I see Vil's thorough," Kit said, picking up another one, and saw that it was Cessna's proprietary software, named Virtual Cockpit: Citation Mustang, and another that read Virtual Cockpit: Citation Encore. "She had them send the manuals."

"They sent mine too. See?" she asked with a smile, picking up one of the books labeled for her, which read Cessna Flight Academy: Flight Regulations for Private Pilots.

"Jessie, exactly what did you agree to do with Vil?" he asked.

"I'm getting my pilot's license," she grinned. "Vil had them call me, and they told me that if I study these books they send, that I can get my license in as quick as four weeks as long as I can pass the written test. They said if I go really quick, they'll help me get my twin engine complex plane rating too. The fur I talked to said that the more I study, the less classroom time I have to take, and that gives me more time to get the hours I need to do my practical test. He said if I can get my pilot's license in three weeks, I'll have enough time to log the hours I need for a multi-engine complex plane rating."

"That is true about getting a license quickly," he said with a nod. "There's no real schedule about it. As long as you pass the written test and have the necessary logged hours, you can take the oral test and check ride any time. And multi and complex ratings, you can get those at the same time on the right plane, you just have to log the hours and take the test."

"So, while you learn how to fly jets, I'm going to get my pilot's license," she told him. "Vil said it was my early birthday present."

"Well, that's what it is," Kit chuckled. "I guess Vil got her way in the end and paid for it anyway. Eh, I won't complain, I guess, if that's what you want."

"I've wanted to fly our plane since the first time you took me up in it!" she said excitedly, putting another book aside on the coffee table. "I told Vil I didn't want to start until after the baby because it would take so long. I mean, you were in flight school for over a year. But then she found out I could get one in a month as long as I don't go for all the same ratings you got, so I went for it. She said I could get the same ratings you have later, after I get my pilot's license. I hope it didn't cost her that much."

"Private training at Cessna itself? I'd say it ran her about fifteen thousand dollars."

"That much?" Jessie said in surprise.

"It's expensive to fly, pretty kitty. I have no doubt that the jet ratings she'd giving me probably cost about fifty thousand total. The last time I saw a hard number for training, it was nine thousand dollars for a two week course for a commercial pilot to rate on a Boeing seven thirty-seven B."

"Wow," Jessie said in surprise. "Another one for me. There's so many," she said, in a little bit of dismay, looking at the books on the table, all of them with her name on them.

"It won't be easy, pretty kitty. But if you really want to do it, I'll help you."

"I really do," she said honestly.

"Then I'll do everything I can to help you. You'll have to study a lot, but at least I can take you up in our plane and let you see that textbook knowledge in action. That should help you learn it better than if you just memorize stuff."

"Good, because I want to fly our plane home," she said with a smile.

"Well, I guess I'll let you," he winked.

"You better, silly fox," she smiled, reaching up and pulling his head down. It made his head throb a bit, but the kiss he got made all the pain melt away.

When they went through the box, Kit was impressed. They had sent Jessie all the books, manuals, and information she needed to study to learn about the fundamentals of flight, airplanes, and flight procedures, they even sent her testing software so she could quiz herself on her knowledge. Kit had been sent the manuals for every jet they were going to teach him to fly, as well as an email address and a letter telling him that he had to choose which of the big jets Kit wanted to learn to fly and email his choice to them tomorrow, so they could send out those materials to him as well. They not only sent books and manuals, they also sent software. They sent software that showed the planes and cockpits in great detail, and there was also test software that would quiz him on the locations of controls and procedures, literally the test software that would test him on the information he would need to know to pass the oral test segment of his check ride evaluation. They even sent a copy of the game Microsoft Flight Simulator 2008 that had add-ons for every Citation jet they produced. The flight simulator software was very faithful to real flight situations, and the add-ons would allow him to simulate flying the jets he was going to learn to fly. It also showed the internal cockpits of the plane in perfect detail, since they'd taken pictures of the real cockpits of the planes to reproduce for the simulator.

They also sent him brochures and website addresses to look over the big jets. There was the Citation XLS, the Citation X, the Citation Sovereign, and even the Citation Columbus, a plane that wasn't even in production yet, but they could rate him to fly on it because they had already had a test plane and were testing it for FAA certification. Once they started certifying the plane, it was standard procedure to train pilots to fly it for when it was in production, that way there were pilots out there that could fly the plane. Kit looked over each plane, but it took him all of three minutes to choose, once he looked at the Citation X. Now that the Concorde was retired, the X was the fastest civilian aircraft in the sky, capable of cruising at Mach .92, over five hundred miles an hour, and had transcontinental range. He could fly from Boston to London, New York to Los Angeles, or Los Angeles to Hawaii in a Citation X, without having to land to refuel. The X was a dual-pilot jet, not single pilot rated, but none of the big jets were. If he was going to learn how to fly a jet, he was going to learn how to fly the fastest one he could legally fly.

He sent off the email informing them he chose the Citation X, then went back to the material, preparing to sort it so he could draw up a study plan, both for himself and for Jessie.


The office was quiet when he came in on Tuesday, and when he went to go see Rick, he found out why. Rick showed him the spreadsheet showing sale figures over the weekend, and they weren't as good as the first test had been. In fact, they weren't very good at all. The magazine would be pretty solidly in the red for the week.

It had dismayed some in the office and made Rick nervous, but Kit studied the figures carefully. What he saw wasn't the bottom line showing that the magazine had lost six thousand dollars that week, he instead saw that every single new sale site had sold some magazines. Only two sites only sold one or two, the rest had sold at least five. What he saw was that furs had bought the magazines, but had not bought enough to put the magazine in the black. To Kit, that was more important than the scary figure at the bottom of the page.

Rick shared his cautiously optimistic appraisal after Kit read the figures. "I see that we sold throughout the metro area, but not in high numbers."

"We can just cut back on units to the Austin market next week," Kit said. "We'll put more out where we did well, less out where we didn't."

"Well, we didn't sell out at any location, and our sales always drop off past Monday at College Station and San Antonio. So I don't see us selling many more magazines."

"Well, we just adjust, Rick. You know how this works."

"I know, but I can't feel really nervous about it," he said with a nod. "We're gambling with everyone's future here. Yours, mine, everyone who works for us."

"Well, we'll make it," Kit said. "We should advertise."

"Advertise? Where?"

"On the campus radio station, for one," Kit answered. "Maybe a few radio stations around town too. Advertising works, Rick that's why our advertisers pay us money to run their ads. We need to do the same."

"That's not cheap, son. I don't see how we can pay for it."

"I know it's not cheap, Rick. And I'm willing to invest in the advertising, because I know it's going to work."

"Son, I can't keep letting you sink all your money in the magazine. You might lose everything!"

"It's my money to spend, Rick, and I won't lose everything," he said mildly. "In fact, I'll have more cash to invest very soon."

"Another CD is maturing?"

He shook his head. "No, the second quarter ends today," he answered. "Tomorrow's the first of April. That means that tomorrow the dividend checks get sent out for my stock investments. So, find out how much it'll cost to have a radio spot produced, and we'll talk about it."

"Kit, it might cost fifteen thousand dollars for the spot and for radio airtime."

"If it increases circulation, it's worth it," Kit shrugged. "I'm willing to pay the money, Rick, because I believe in the magazine. Besides, I kinda owe it to you, since I'll be gone for six weeks."

Rick chuckled. "You're not taking a vacation," he smiled, then turned a little in his wheelchair. "But I'll look into it."

"Works for me. Well, let me get to work," he said, standing up.

That night, Jessie got her first taste of what she'd have to do to get her pilot's license. Study. Lots and lots and lots of study. Kit made her do her homework and her study for her classes first, then she spent nearly two hours with the first book in the series she had to study. Kit also started studying, at least after he installed all the software they sent on the laptops. It made for a quiet evening in the Vulpan household, quiet and serious.

"You make this look so easy," she accused as she turned the page.

"I've had lots of practice," he answered lightly. "I have over a thousand hours logged, love. Back when I was in college, before the accident, I was logging fifteen to twenty hours a week flying either solo or as the pilot in command, which is what really matters. I was getting an hour in every day after class and about five hours a day on the weekends, most of it in that old Beech the flight school had," he chuckled. "It was the only time Vil ever complained about how much money I was costing her," he laughed. "Renting a plane to log hours isn't cheap. Guess I shouldn't complain about flying that old beast, it let me log the hours that will let me get my solo jet rating. A beech is a twin engine complex plane," he explained, "meaning that it has systems like retractable landing gear and anti-icing systems and such, things you don't find on single engine private planes. You have to be rated for those to fly a jet. Anyway, I put in eight hundred hours in that thing in a year. God, did I piss off the other students," he laughed. "I always had it. They always had to fight me for it."

"So, after I get my license, I need to get a twin engine and complex to fly a jet?"

"A lot more than that. You need instrument rating and authorizations for high altitude flight training. You'll get both if you go for your commercial license, so that's the way you should go. A commercial opens many more doors than other ratings, and it trains you to be a real pilot. Any pilot serious about flying should get a commercial."

"Then I guess that's what I'll do," she smiled at him.

After she studied, he quizzed her on what she learned as they cooked dinner, then they went down to the airport so they could talk about what she'd learned in the hangar with their plane, so he could show her, since her first lesson was about basic flight controls and surfaces. A couple of the mechanics wandered over while they talked, as he pointed out the rudder and grilled her on what she'd learned about yaw, as did one of Avia's pilots. "Teaching her to fly?" the bobcat asked curiously.

"I just started today," she answered.

"Congratulations! You'll love it," he smiled.

"Hey, if you need to show her more complicated cockpits, feel free to take a peek in the other planes in the hangar," one of the mechanics added. "Just warn us, and don't touch nothin' inside," he winked.

"That's very nice, thanks," Jessie smiled in return.

And that was Jessie's first lesson in flying. She learned all about flight controls, the three axes of movement, and how they affected a plane. It was her first step down a long path.


Without a debate or anything earth-shaking, their issue that week was what they'd call normal, maybe even boring, but they were introducing new features, Mike and Denise's, this week was the first week that Missy and Cutler would be its own, stand-alone strip, and it was also the first week where Janet's photography was going to be in the issue. And Janet was a damn good photographer. Mike and Lilly were good, but Janet had a touch, an eye, that made her photographs exceptional. They had also included the reader-supplied photo gallery and 15 Minutes of Fame features, and Janet had included a few of her artistic shots in the issue as part of the photo gallery to give the first photo feature some special style.

Kit, Rick, Savid, and Mike had had a meeting about circulation, and they decided—reluctantly—to print the same number of issues this week as last week and adjust distribution, sending more to good locations and less to poor ones. Rick had been hesitant to do it, but Kit insisted, and it was Kit's investment money that was paying their paychecks that week. Kit knew that they were going to lose money for a while, but the constant exposure and potential radio advertising was going to increase circulation in the long run, so it was money worth spending.

Kit and Rick were discussing radio spots with Savid and Mike when Jessie rushed into the office, breathing hard. "Kit!" she said urgently. "Kit, look at this! There has to be a mistake somewhere!"

"What's wrong, pretty kitty?" he asked as she held out a bank slip.

"You should take it to your office, son, I don't think we want to listen to you two fight over money," Rick smiled.

"Furs in wheelchairs can't run very fast, Rick," Kit teased, but he did follow Jessie back to his office.

In his office, she gave him the bank statement. "I went to go withdraw some money for groceries, and they gave me a statement that has balances for both accounts on it. Kit, look at the money market account!"

He did so, and saw that it had $38,382.25 in it, which was about $32,000 more than it should have. Kit thought about it a moment as Jessie looked nervous and frantic, then he realized that it was April 3, and the Vulpan stocks would have disbursed their dividends by now. "I think I know what it is, hold on, love," he said, picking up his phone off the desk and speed-dialing Vil.

"Hey bro, what's up?"

"Vil, have dividends been sent out?"

"Yeah, this morning," she answered. "Did you not get yours? I had it set to direct deposit to your market account."

"We did, but we haven't got the statement yet, so it just showed up in the bank without warning."

"Oh. Well, we were down a little this quarter because of some charges we had to write off over a Navy contract, but we should be back up to normal next quarter."

"Well, that explains it. Thanks, sis."

"Remember, Friday, as soon as you get out of work," she told him. "The jet will be there waiting. You can sleep on the way up."

"We'll be there," he promised.

"Gotta go. Love ya, bro."

"I love you too. Bye."

"Bye-bye."

"It's legit, love," he said, putting the phone down. "That's our dividend from our Vulpan stocks."

"Thirty thousand dollars?" she gasped.

"Closer two thirty-two," he said calmly. "That's about what I expected, more or less."

"I didn't realize it would be so much money!" she said in surprise, her eyes wide.

"Well, that money is going to help," Kit said. "I'm thinking of using it to invest in the magazine, if you don't mind."

"Well, I guess not, I think. What if you spend it all?"

"Love, we'll get another check about that big every three months," he told her. "The dividends are paid out every quarter. Mind that we have to save some of it to pay our taxes next April, but outside of that, this is the 'guaranteed income for life' I was talking about, pretty kitty. I thought I told you it'd be about eleven dollars a share or so, that's about where the dividend pays out from quarter to quarter."

"I think you did, but I wasn't expecting thirty thousand! I thought it would be like three!"

"I think you were thinking of just the stock from one company," he said. "We own a thousand shares of three companies, love. The dividends are different for each company, but they average out to about eleven dollars a share between all three."

"Oh. Ohhh, okay!" she said, then she laughed. "Well, our babies are definitely going to Harvard!"

"We won't start investing the dividends off the Vulpan stocks just yet, if you don't mind, love," he said. "I want to invest in the magazine. If we put some money into the magazine, it's going to really take off. But to warn you, it'll take time and money."

"Well, if we're getting this much every three months, I guess that wouldn't hurt. After all, if the magazine does well, we earn more money in the long run, and so does everyone else."

"Exactly," he smiled, giving her a quick hug. "Thank you, pretty kitty."

"Just don't go crazy, handsome fox," she winked. "I don't want to try to buy lunch at school and find out my debit card is rejected."

"I won't bankrupt us. I'll make sure we can at least buy enough ramen noodles to last us until July," he grinned, which made her laugh and kiss him on the muzzle.

"You make me eat Ramen noodles for three months, and I might give birth to a panda," she warned, which made him almost fall over laughing.

It took some wrangling, but Rick finally caved in on the radio spot. Kit wrote a check for $2750 for a professional radio commercial, actually three of them, in 60, 45, and 30 second intervals. After they had the professional commercial, Rick shopped around for airtime. It was frightfully expensive, but Rick advertised the magazine on a rock station and the pop station Jessie liked to listen to for 3 weeks, buying 6 commercial slots, 2 of them in the 18-34 prime time listening block, which was the most expensive. Kit wrote a check for nearly $6000 for the air time, but Kit saw it as a wise investment. The radio spots were in the spirit of the magazine, being both sophisticated and irreverent at the same time, and Kit had laughed out loud when he heard them. All three spots made sure to make note that School Daze could be found within.

The strip. Kit could see friction coming on the horizon over School Daze. It was highly successful, so successful that the magazine has been receiving requests for them to syndicate it from the Austin American-Statesman. Rick planned to do that starting in June, after they'd printed 100 strips in the magazine, but what he didn't see was that Jeffrey was really earning a name for himself as a talented artist, and that Jeffrey might be the first member of the crew to leave the magazine and strike out on his own. Kit was fairly sure that a big reason he was still here was because School Daze was not his alone. Kit was the co-creator of the strip, and they owned it jointly… and they owned it. It did not belong to the magazine, it belonged to Jeffrey and Kit. The magazine had rights to print the strip, but the strip was not the magazine's. It was a dilemma for Jeffrey, for he could not do the strip alone, yet Kit was entrenching himself more and more into the magazine every week by investing his own money into it.

It wasn't that Jeffrey was unhappy at the magazine. He loved it there, he loved the gang, and leaving would hurt him. But he was young, and he saw a potential to really make a name for himself in the world of artists, and that wasn't easy at the magazine. Of all the workers at the magazine, he had the greatest potential to earn more money elsewhere, and that potential went up every week as his work was noticed more and more. He didn't have enough space to be creative here, not with the duties he had to the magazine, and the lure to leave, earn more money, and have more freedom, was strong. He needed room to create, to work on his own projects. That was why Kit felt that the next hire they made was another artist, to help Jeffrey and give him more room to work on his own projects. If they didn't, they might lose him.

Kit had a long talk about it with Rick after the wrap meeting on Thursday. He made sure to stress that Jeffrey hadn't said he wanted to leave, but he also put the situation out for Rick in terms that made it hard to ignore. "We need to give him space and time to do his own work," Kit said. "He's young and talented, and if we don't give him what he needs, we'll lose him. Besides, if you think about it, if we give him that space, we'll get first shot at anything new he does," he added.

"True," Rick said. "I was going to hire another artist, we talked about that when you bought into the magazine, but I wasn't ready to do it because we're in the red as it is from expansion."

"We don't have to hire now, but we should tell Jeffrey that we are, so he knows we're thinking of him."

"Yeah. We should." He reached over to his phone and punched up Jeffrey's intercom. "Jeffrey, come see me before you head out, okay?"

"Sure thing," he answered.

The mouse came in and sat down with them, and Rick explained what they were planning to do. "We know that you're more limited here with us than you could be trying to freelance, Jeffrey, so what we were looking to do was bring in an assistant to help you with the simpler work around here and give you more time to pursue some of your freelance work," he said. "You'll still be full time, you'll get a promotion and title of lead artist, and you'll still get your full paycheck," Rick smiled, "but you'd have more time to work for yourself. We don't want to lose you, so we're willing to give you what you need to make you stay."

Jeffrey gave Rick a startled stare, then laughed. "Wow, Rick, I'm, I'm speechless," he said. "It's really cool that you're thinking of me and my career, and I have to admit, I've been wondering if I could make it freelancing."

"Well, when we hire you an assistant, you can freelance on top of getting your steady paycheck from here," Rick smiled. "And just to tell you, I'm going to let you start syndicating the strip when you've printed your hundredth strip in the magazine. Once you get to a hundred, I'll relinquish reprint rights to you two, and you can contract to whoever you want to syndicate the strip so long as you always run your newest strips in the magazine first."

"The strips would have never taken off without the magazine, Rick. As far as I'm concerned, the magazine will always be the home of School Daze."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Kit laughed. "I do own half the strip."

"It wouldn't have ever made it without you and Jessie, Kit."

"Now, mind that we can't hire an assistant right now, but as soon as we shake out the bugs of this attempt to expand, I'm going to hire your assistant, a research assistant for Kit, and a writing assistant for Barry and the others, and also give all you guys a raise. But hiring you an assistant will get priority, son, because you're very important to us and we don't want to lose you."

"You're offering me a raise to cut my hours and do my own work, Rick… I'd be an idiot to quit this job!" Jeffrey said honestly.

"I'm glad you see it that way," Rick grinned.


Kit was not looking forward to this.

He and Jessie were being led to Vil's private jet on a dark, rainy night. Kit was going to do his Saturday work on the plane and at Boston, so he had Saturday and Sunday to go to Boston.

Boston. Vil kept trying to drag him there, but she just wouldn't, or couldn't, get it through her head that it wasn't just a city to him. It was a black pit of nightmarish memories and terrifying sensations. He was sure he'd either nearly faint or go into some kind of maniacal rage when they went past the grove of trees along the private drive and saw Stonebrook in its stark tan granite glory, sitting on the top of its gentle hill and with all the smaller buildings and garage behind it. She didn't understand that there wasn't just heartache tied up in Boston for him, but fear, almost overwhelming fear. She hadn't tried to live on those unfriendly streets in those first two weeks after he walked out, she couldn't fathom what kind of abject terror he experienced that first night, when he had nowhere to go, absolutely no idea where he could go, what he could do, walking the nine miles from Stonebrook to the outskirts of Boston in the freezing cold with no coat and no shoes. She didn't know that he'd nearly died that day, that a policeman had seen him stumbling along in the snow by a road and had taken him to a clinic to have him checked out, a clinic that kept him over because he had hypothermia. Boston wasn't a place to him, it was hell. It was the hell he endured after he walked out, and the hell his father put him through after he had managed to survive those first two months and tried to set himself up some kind of passable life. Vil thought that all he had to do was go back to Boston and stay a while, maybe have a little fun, build good memories to cover over the bad, and his aversion to the city would fade away, but she was wrong. It never would. Boston would forever feel like a hostile, ominous place to him, a place where he had shed blood and descended from the life of propriety and culture he had known to being beaten by street thugs and stealing from convenience stores because he was so hungry he was willing to risk going to jail just to get something to eat. Boston would never feel like any place other than a place from which he had to escape.

The only reason he had agreed to this was because Jessie would be with him. He held her paw, almost painfully tight, as they sat down in the plane, which Vil had had converted back to her spacious private area after his birthday. The chairs up front were gone except for two, the two Marcus and Stav probably used, with her couch and galley remaining. Jessie patted him on the shoulder, then cuddled up with him after the pilots went into the cockpit and closed the door. Kit was too nervous to talk to them, and Jessie could sense it, so she cuddled with him a moment, then pushed him down so he could lay with his head in her lap. He tried to relax as she played with his hair and ears, clutching hold of her glorious longhaired tail and holding it close to his chest. She knew how nervous he was about this, and bless her, she was doing whatever she could to comfort him, bolster him so he could get through it.

He laid there as the plane taxied and took off, until the plane had leveled out for the four hour flight to Boston, laid in silence, until he sighed and patted Jessie on the knee. "I love you, pretty kitty," he told her.

"I'm so glad, because I love you too, my handsome fox," she said gently, running her paw across his shoulders, then slid it down towards the one part of his body that always attracted her paws, the scars on his back.

"Six months to go, pretty kitty, six months."

"Actually, I think we can call it five months and three weeks to go now," she said with a little giggle, leaning down on one paw. She squeaked slightly when the plane hit a little minor turbulence.

"We're about to pass through some upper-level turbulence caused by that storm front," Avery called over the intercom. "So please either keep seated or walk carefully for the next five minutes or so."

They passed through some minor turbulence for about five minutes, and Jessie distracted him by asking him to explain turbulence and how it affected flying. He lay with his head in her lap, looking up at her as she smiled down at him, and did so, and branching off into general knowledge about weather she would be expected to know as a pilot. After nearly twenty minutes of just gabbing away, he stopped, gave her a rueful look, then laughed. "Such a wonderful femme," he smiled, reaching over his head and patting her on the leg he was using as a pillow.

"I know how to keep your mind occupied," she winked. "Now explain what warns me I'm about to stall."

"Ah, so we're going over last night's subject?"

"Well, why not?" she smiled.

"Well, I guess we should get today's study done. I'm still trying to learn the characteristics of the Mustang."

Instead of sleeping, they spent the entire flight in quiet study. Jessie was moving along in her studies, still studying the basics of the mechanics of flight. As soon as she finished that subject, she'd start memorizing flight regulations, and then she'd go on the mathematical part of it; navigation, fuel consumption rates, and converting a gallons per hour number and fuel remaining indicator to a distance a plane could fly before it violated its reserves. Kit spent that time poring over the flight manual and checklists for a Citation Mustang, the first plane he was slated to learn to fly when they got to Kansas. The Mustang also used the Garmin 1000 navigation system, so at least that much he did not have to study. He'd been using Garmins most of his piloting career. He'd be studying a new avionics system when he started studying for the other models; only the Mustang used the Garmin G1000 avionics suite. The CJ series, Encore, and X all used different avionics suites, though Cessna worked very hard to make each Citation cockpit feel similar. A CJ may use different avionics than an Encore, but Cessna worked hard to keep all the buttons, switches, and indicators in the same place as much as possible. So, if he wanted to check the status of his landing gear in a Mustang, he'd look in the same place when he was behind the controls of an Encore.

"You know, I should just get my flight instructor rating," Kit chuckled when she asked him a question. "I'll have to look into it. You can get your private at Cessna, and I can teach you to get your instrument rating and whatever else you want. It would be a hell of a lot cheaper for me to get my instructor rating than it would be for you to go to school for the ratings you want."

"You said it takes a while."

"About two months," he said, waving a paw back and forth. "Give or take. I can pass all the flying parts, but I'd have to take the classes in learning how to teach."

"Well, I can help you there, I am in school to be an English teacher," she winked at him.

He laughed. "I guess you could at that. Well, I'm going to be your first student."

"I should make a dunce cap," she said lightly.

"I get to indulge in the hot English professor fantasy," he grinned in reply.

She laughed. "Well, I'll know how to punish you for poor performance," she teased. "I'll sleep on the couch!"

"Mean kitty," he accused, then he felt the plane start to descend.

Kit's anxiety returned when they were on the ground. It was a cold night in Boston despite it being April, since spring came late that far north, and they were bundled quickly from the jet to a waiting limo. Stav was waiting at the door of the limo, holding it open for them, and after they were inside, he supervised as the ground crew moved their single suitcase into the trunk. Kit's paws were literally shaking as Stav got into the driver's seat of the small limo and put on his seat belt. "How have you been, Mister Stav?" Jessie asked.

"I've been well, and you may just call me Stav, if you please," he answered as he pulled away from the plane, towards a road that led off the flight line. "Miss Vil has put you up in the Liberty tonight and tomorrow, in the Presidential suite."

"Naturally," Kit sighed. "Why couldn't she just put us in a Holiday Inn somewhere?"

"I believe she'd see that as a scandal, Mister Vulpan. This is Boston. Can you imagine what the gossip pages would say if a Vulpan stayed in the Holiday Inn, no matter which Vulpan it was? Remember, we are back where appearances matter."

Kit sighed and nodded.

"I take it this Liberty is a fancy hotel?"

"It was just remodeled last year, Miss Jessica, and it's one of the most luxurious hotels in the city. I believe it's Miss Vil's favorite because of its appearance."

"Ooh, so it's going to be like Vil's vacation home in the keys?"

"Not quite, but expect the same luxury," Kit said with a snort. "I'm glad it's two in the morning, at least we'll avoid any paparazzi. I know they'll be frothing at the mouth to get pictures of us if they find out I'm here. Kit Vulpan and his interspecies wife sneaking into Boston," he grunted, holding his paws up as if to frame a headline.

"Kit," Jessie protested.

"I'm just saying it how they will, love," he told her, putting his paw on her arm fondly. "I happen to like the fact that you're a cat. It would be kinda strange for me to call you pretty kitty if you were a raccoon."

She gave him a look, then laughed helplessly.

The Liberty was built out of an old jail built back in the mid-1800's, but had been converted into a luxury hotel. The hotel had been built around the jail but maintained the original jail as its core, so the towering hotel was built of the granite famous in New England, granite just slightly darker than the granite from which Stonebrook was built. It was beside a large hospital and beside a long strip of grass and forest park called the Esplanade, on Beacon Hill, which was a promontory between the Charles River and the back bay. A bellboy took their suitcase and overnight that held their laptops, and then a smartly dressed clerk gave them their key as Jessie gawked at the nearly 100 foot high ceiling of the hotel lobby, which had originally been the atrium of the prison. "Miss Vulpan has already paid for your room and any and all meals or room service you may require, and will cover all gratuities. So, please don't feel that you need to tip any staff member, Mister Vulpan, unless you are particularly impressed by their service," the clerk told him. "She also reminds you that she will be here to pick you up at eleven o'clock in the morning. Shall I arrange a wake-up call for you?"

"Please, around ten," he nodded as he took the two keys that were on a small, ornate ring. "What's the smaller key for?"

"Each room has its own private safe. The key is for that safe, Mister Vulpan," the clerk replied.

"Ah. Thank you."

"You can reach our concierge counter by dialing zero from any hotel phone. Would you like a light meal sent up before you retire?"

"We ate on the plane, but thank you," Jessie answered him.

"The steward will see you to your room, Mister Vulpan, Misses Vulpan. I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

"Thanks. Have a good night."

"You too, Mister Vulpan," the male fox said with a nod.

The Presidential suite was suitably stupendous for a luxury hotel, and was so exclusive that Kit had to use a specific elevator to reach it, the only elevator that went to the penthouse. It took up the entire top floor of the building, and was like a luxury apartment. Every room was richly appointed in 1800s style furniture in dark, richly varnished colors, and the huge windows offered views of all four directions of Boston. The bedroom's windows overlooked the Charles River… and seven or so miles upriver, on a hill overlooking the river, was Stonebrook Manor.

"Wow!" Jessie said in wonder as she looked out the window, then she went into the kitchen. "The fridge is full of food!" she called. "And there's a bar, and a bowl of fruit!"

"You keep gawking, I'm going to bed. I hope this mattress doesn't kill me," he said, sitting tentatively on the bed and testing it. It felt soft, but there was a firmness under it that made him hopeful.

She hurried back into the bedroom and started undressing. "I'm not letting you sleep alone, silly fox," she smiled. "You'd be a nervous wreck in the morning."

"Amen to that," he said.

After they were both undressed, Jessie slid into bed beside him and wormed her way into his arms, putting him on his back as she kissed him tenderly. "Well, hello there, Mister Vulpan, fancy meeting you here," she said with a gentle whisper.

"You just keep following me around, Misses Vulpan," he smiled in reply, sliding his paws up her back.

"For the rest of eternity," she giggled, rubbing her nose against his. "Now let's get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."


It may be a long day, but it started earlier than it was supposed to start.

Kit had gotten up to use the bathroom around nine, and sat on the edge of the bed, his paws on the small of his back. The bed wasn't bad, leaving him only with a slight twinge in his back, much better than borrowed beds usually treated him. Jessie put her paw on his lower back, then grabbed the base of his tail and squeezed it lightly. "Morning, my handsome fox," she called, and she used that grip on him to pull him away from the edge. He laughed and scooted back on the bed, until she sat up and wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the side of his neck. "How's your back?"

"Not bad," he answered. "But I might be open to you trying to sprain it," he said huskily.

She laughed. "Well, let's get started on some of those good memories Vil wants you to take from Boston," she purred in his ear, then pulled him backwards back down onto the bed.

After a very enjoyable two hours, the phone by the bed rang, as Jessie sat on the edge of the bed with her towel in her lap, and her just-dried fur being brushed out. Kit had just stepped out of the dryer they had installed in the luxuriant bathroom, with its huge shower, Jacuzzi tub, and an alcove holding a full body dryer that even had a seat in it for someone too lazy to stand in the airstream. Jessie reached over and picked up the phone, then hung it up after saying good morning to whoever was on the other side. "I guess this is the real deal, it wasn't a recording, it was a real fur," she giggled as she pulled a comb through her tail, which she had in her lap. Kit sat down beside her, then leaned over and kissed her on the side of her short muzzle. "Kit, we're supposed to be up and getting ready," she said, but she started purring when Kit put his paw on her bare breast.

"I'm gonna be so jealous of our baby when he takes possession of these," he said thickly in her ear.

"I'm sure she will give them back to you when she's done," Jessie said with a sly little smile and a sideways wink at him.

"Well, I see we're going to have our first major fight," Kit laughed. "I say it's a he."

"And I know it's a she," she answered.

"We won't know until the ultrasound," he protested.

"I'll bet ya," she grinned.

"Oho, you wanna bet, do you? Fine, I'll bet you two weeks of doing dishes it's a boy."

"Such wussy little terms," she giggled. "Oh no, it's gonna cost ya, handsome fox. I'll bet you a month of daily foot massages and weekly pedicures it's a girl."

"Such high stakes," he said with mock seriousness. "And if I win?"

"You're not," she winked. "But if some miracle does occur and you win, I do the dishes for a month."

"You're on," he said. They shook paws professionally, then she laughed when he put his arm around her and nibbled playfully on her cheek and ear. "I'd give you foot massages no matter what, you silly kitty," he teased as she squirmed in his arms.

"And I'd have done the dishes. But I think you're gonna look so cute painting my toe claws, and blowing on them for me," she teased.

"You're gonna look funny with waterlogged pads, cause I'll make sure I dirty every single dish we have every time I cook."

"Cheater," she accused with a grin, then she started purring when ran his fingers through her hair between her ears. "I wonder how long it'll be after I deliver before I'm ready to make love again," she mused in a throaty purr. "I'm sure I'm going to be sore down there for a while."

"I can wait as long as you need me to, love," he told her, putting his paw on her flat belly. "Five months and three weeks, my pretty kitty."

"I'll be getting fat soon," she complained. "Doctor Mac says I'll start to show at the end of this month. I'll start showing a baby bump, and then I balloon up like a whale," she frowned.

"Such a vain little kitty," Kit laughed.

"How am I going to keep my husband's eyes on me when I'm fat and Allison is running around with her supermodel body?" she asked sourly.

He laughed. "Jealous, jealous, jealous," he accused. "But that just makes me love you more. It shows me you love me."

"Of course I love you, you silly male," she told him with a bright smile.

"Well, at least the morning sickness hasn't bothered you for a few days. Maybe you're over it."

"God I hope so," she said explosively. "It's really annoying wondering if you're gonna throw up every time you eat something, or lay down."

"Let me do that for you," he said, taking the comb from her.

"You're just looking for an excuse to paw my butt," she giggled as he pulled her tail into his lap.

"Do I need an excuse?" he challenged, reaching behind her and goosing her, which made her squeak and flinch. "If I want to paw your butt, Misses Vulpan, I'll just grab it! I own that cute little butt!"

"Hey, don't bruise me!" she protested with a grin when he goosed her again, then again, and she jumped off the bed with a squeal and a laugh when his pinching fingers chased her posterior. Kit laughed, at least until she reached down and picked up one of the large down-filled pillows and cocked it back threateningly, then he put his paws up defensively.

"Now behave, you, or you're gonna find out what Boston goose feathers taste like!"

"I give, I give!" Kit laughed.

"Good. Now, you have a job to do," she said, turning around and presenting her longhaired tail to him, pointing at it imperiously.

"Yes, I believe I do," he said lightly, reaching over and pinching her backside one last, fatal time.

The beating lasted about five minutes. Kit laughed the whole time, until he was in the usual position, on his stomach on the bed with his arms protecting his head, and Jessie straddling his legs to hold them down as she smacked him with the pillow. "Now behave, you little rat, or I'm gonna start putting horeshoes in the pillows," she said in his ear after she put the pillow aside when he surrendered.

"But it's more fun to be naughty," he protested with a chuckle.

The phone rang again, and Jessie reached over and picked it up, flopping down to lay on top of him. "Hello? Hi Vil!" she said happily. "Oh, just beating up your brother, he was being a little jerk again," she said casually, which made Kit laugh. "Umm, can you give us a few minutes? We're kinda not decent," she said shyly. "Okay, that's fine. I'll go unlock the door for you. Okay, bye-bye." She hung up the phone. "Vil's down in the lobby. She's gonna wait in the living room while we get dressed."

She moved to get up, but Kit grabbed her by the paw. "Aaat, where's my kiss?" he demanded. She laughed and attended to the matter, kissing him playfully on the muzzle, then she slid off of him and picked up a robe, pulling it over her shoulders as she scurried out into the next room.

Typical for her, Kit mused with a loving smile. She wasn't home, so she wouldn't leave the bedroom without something on.

Kit pulled on his underwear as she went out to unlock the door, and was pulling on his jeans when she got back. "You need to comb your tail, love, it looks like a haystack," she noted as she took off the robe and went for the bra and panties she'd laid out on the dresser.

"I know," he nodded as she stepped into her panties and pulled them up, snugging the back up against the base of her tail. Jessie didn't like closed-tailhole panties, because her tail was longhaired and it really messed up her fur trying to thread her tail through the hole, the same problem Kit had with his bushy tail and closed-hole underwear. Nor did she like strap-backed panties, which usually either had a button, snaps, eyes and hooks like a bra, or velcro on a strap going over the tail. She preferred low-backed panties that relied on a femme's hips to keep from slipping. Then again, the recent popularity of the low-back was one of the reasons hip-hugger jeans came back into fashion, since low-back panties were naturally low on the hips to begin with. Before low-backs, femmes either had strap panties or those old beasts that buttoned in the back, which tended to pinch the tail. Males didn't have it much easier, since low-backs weren't very popular. Most males wore holed undies, no buttons or openings, just a hole in the back through which he would thread his tail. Kit's bushy tail made those impractical, so he'd worn snap-strap briefs most of his life, at least up until last year, when he wore whatever he could afford. The cheapest style of male underwear out there were hook-strap briefs, using the same eye and hook as a femme's bra, and he'd kind of gotten used to them, despite them being uncomfortable. He's only just started buying something different, he'd bought some Hanes super-thin velcro strap-back briefs, where the cloth-backed soft velcro had an overlaying flap of soft cotton to keep the velcro from snagging fur.

"Where are you repealing indecent exposure laws," Kit sighed as she pulled her bra on.

She laughed as she hooked it; she usually wore a front-hooking bra except when she was wearing a dress, because her claws made it very hard for her to hook a bra behind her back. "Even if it was legal, you'll never catch me going without clothes in public," she teased.

"You know, there's a nude beach down in Florida."

"I'm so glad for Florida," she said mildly, stepping into her jeans. "Now comb your tail."

"Kit!" Vil called from the other room. "I'm here!"

"We're in the bedroom, and we're decent!" Kit shouted in reply.

Vil came in as Kit and Jessie both were pulling their tee shirts over their heads. She was wearing something that made her look like a college student, a U-Mass tee shirt and a pair of faded jeans, which was very unusual for her. Vil almost always wore business clothes, even when she wasn't working. But, she'd told them to dress casual for today, and she had obviously taken that to heart herself. Kit hugged his shorter sister fondly, and Jessie hugged her and kissed her on the cheek after she got her shirt on. "Kit, comb your tail, it looks awful," Vil ordered, looking at it critically.

Jessie grinned at him. "Chop chop, you miscreant," she told him imperiously.

"I love it when she throws those fancy words at me," he said, picking the comb up off the bed, sitting down, and doing as he was told. "What's first?"

"We go see Clancy first," she answered. "Then, afterwards, if you don't need a little time to calm down after going to Stonebrook, we're going to meet Kendall and have a nice meal, then I'm going to indulge Kendall in one of his joys."

"Which is?"

"Basketball," she said with a little sigh, rolling her eyes. "The Celtics play tonight, so I borrowed the box and courtside tickets from Uncle Brian."

"Which explains why we're in jeans and tee shirts," Kit chuckled.

"Well, it should be good, they're playing the Charlotte Bobcats, and both are gonna make the playoffs," Vil noted. "Well, bro, you ready to face Boston?"

"No, but let's get this over with," he sighed, combing the last burr out of his tail.

After Kit and Jessie loaded their pockets, they went downstairs. Jessie shivered when they stepped out into the nippy Boston air, for it was early April in Massachusetts, and spring wouldn't come to the Northeast until early May. "Why didn't I bring a coat?" she complained as she hugged herself as they hurried to the waiting limo, Marcus and Stav flanking the open door, waiting for them.

"We'll buy you one on the way to Stonebrook," Vil promised as she herded Jessie into the limo.

And Vil did. Kit was getting a little nervous, but it was nice to stop at a mall and run into Macy's to buy Jessie a coat. They found her a nice black hooded jacket, light but warm, and Kit broke down and bought a zip-up hoodie just to take the bite off the air. Vil had them buy some simple canvas and rubber-soled slip-on shoes which were popular in Boston in late winter and early spring, basically just to keep the feet dry and offer a little extra insulation against a Boston night, since it was going to be rather cold after the game.

Kit felt his heart start to speed up when they pulled on Stonebrook Road, which was technically a public road but was literally nothing but a private, county-paved driveway for Stonebrook manor, since the Vulpans owned all land on both sides of the road and would not sell it. There used to be other houses out here, but Kit's father had bought them all out and forced them to move, then had their houses demolished and allowed the lots to return to nature. A mile down Stonebrook Road, they reached the massive gates of Stonebrook Manor, the ancestral home of the Vulpan family. The Vulpan family crest of a fox and a lion separated by a sword was on the gates, the fox on the left and the lion on the right, with the sword split in half to straddle the two gates.

Kit had a riot of conflicting emotions and fears roll through his mind at the sight of those gates. He had honestly never believed he'd ever see them again, and behind them, up that quarter-mile cobblestone driveway, would be the huge mansion that was the residence of the head of the Vulpan family. It was divided into three sections, the center and the east and west wings, and Kit knew that Zach was living in that house. There were many cottages, bungalows, and guest houses scattered through the estate along with other buildings, like the large garage where his father had kept his collection of cars. Some of the buildings were near the house, mostly associated with the house, while the guest cottages tended to be further away, giving guests a feeling of a little privacy from the bustle of the main house. One large guest house was down by the river near the dock, and another large one was by the large indoor pool down the hill behind the main house, with three others hidden among the woods beside and behind the main manor. Clancy lived inside the manor house itself, in an apartment in the center of the house on the first floor, not far from the kitchen. Kit could probably walk from the main entry hall to Clancy's door blindfolded, even after seven years since the last time he'd set foot in Stonebrook.

So many memories, and so few of them good. Most of good memories in that house were from when his mother had been alive, and afterward, there were fewer and fewer, and all of them involving Vil or Clancy. There had been so many fights with his father, screaming matches, furious exchanges. There was so much vitriol in that house, and it seemed that it was still there, for Kit's greatest enemy in the family lived in that house now, seamlessly taking over for Kit's bastard father. Uncle Zach was in there now, the most rabid purist that ever walked the face of the earth, someone who would probably kill Jessie if he thought there was any way he could get away with it without Vil retaliating. Kit had no doubt about that. Zach would see Jessie's entrance into Stonebrook as some kind of desecration, the out-of-control Kit bringing his non-vixen wife into the core of Vulpan history and culture, into the heart of the Vulpan family. That was what Stonebrook was to many Vulpans, the center of the family, the seat of the power of the family. That was why Zach wanted to live here, to be in that seat, to use it as a symbol against the rest of the family as he tried to slowly wrest the power in the family away from Vil. Kit also had no doubt that Zach would have a conniption if he saw Jessie, and there might be a fistfight right in the main hall. Vil was taking a real risk in allowing Jessie into Stonebrook, because Zach could poison the family against her even more than she was already poisoned given she supported Kit, and Kit had broken the most sacred of Vulpan family traditions, and had married outside the species.

The unforgivable crime.

Jessie put her paw on his wrist, giving him a compassionate look. He smiled wanly and patted her paw, then blew out his breath as the car took the driveway that would take them around the house and to the rear entrance, which was most commonly used since there was a pull-in heated garage back there that opened into a parlor where servants would prepare the Vulpans for going out. Clancy's apartment wasn't far from that parlor, down a hall branching out from the main hallway and near the east wing. The limo pulled into the large garage, which had a door on two walls so limos could simply pull forward and back out, and then slowed to a stop. A thin vixen and tall male, both in a gray uniforms, hurried out. The male opened the door while the vixen stepped up to take their coats. The male gaped when Kit stepped out, giving him an astounded look, and the vixen was so shocked she didn't give him the customary little bow, greet him, and offer to take his coat.

"Master Luke!" the male said in an astounded voice. "Bless my soul, I thought I'd never see you in the fur again! Have you been well? Are you home to stay?"

"Benson?" Kit asked, giving him a searching look.

"Yes! Welcome home, Master Luke!" he said with a bright smile.

"Kit," he corrected immediately. "Do not call me by his name."

"Master Kit it is, sir," he said with a nod. "Are you home to stay? Are you here to get rid of him?" he asked in a sudden whisper.

Kit shook his head. "I'm just here to visit Clancy," he said honestly. "This place could never be my home anymore, Benson. Too much bad blood, too many bad memories."

The vixen gave him a compassionate look, then finally held out her paws. Kit dutifully took off his hoodie and offered it to her. "You're getting thin, Sally."

"I'm surprised you remember me, Master L—Kit," she smiled. "I'd only been here two months before you and your father had your falling out."

Jessie climbed out, and the two gave her a startled look. "Benson, Sally, I'd like you to meet my wife," he said in a calm yet strong voice, stressing her relationship to him. "Jessie, this is Benson and Sally. They worked here when I still lived here."

Benson looked stunned, and Sally looked a trifly disapproving as she looked at Jessie.

"Then the gossip was true!" Benson gasped, then he blinked. "It's an honor to meet you, Miss Jessie," he said, giving her a little bow.

"May I take your coat, miss?" Sally offered, with the tiniest edge in her voice. Clearly, Sally was in the same boat as most of his family.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you, and thank you very much!" Jessie said, smiling at Benson and taking off her coat and offering it to Sally.

But the edge in Sally's eyes evaporated when Marcus helped Vil out of the car. Both servants bowed deeply to her. "Miss Vilenne!" Benson said happily. "It's good to see you, madam. Have you been well?"

"Well enough, Benson. Can you send tea to Clancy's apartment? We're going to visit him."

"I'll see to it, madam," he nodded.

"I don't think your Sally likes me very much," Jessie whispered as they followed Benson out of the garage.

"Bigotry isn't restricted to the rich, love," Kit whispered back. "Is my uncle here today, Benson?"

He nodded. "He and his family just finished taking lunch in the sun room about an hour ago."

"Well, here's hoping he decides not to bother us," Kit grunted.

He felt… vulnerable. Almost like his father was lurking around every corner, or maybe uncle Zach. Zach was no better than his father, cut from the same mold, and the fact he was in the house made it still feel like the ghost of his father was hovering over his head. Kit led Jessie by the paw in front of everyone, moving quickly and surely along a path he hadn't walked for over seven years, but knew by heart. Left into the main hall, down to the next right just in front of the main door to the kitchen, then right. Jessie kept looking around at the rich paneling and the portraits, at the Italian tapestry hanging near the kitchen, a piece that would be the centerpiece of any artist's collection in almost any other house, but in the Vulpan house it was relegated to hanging in a hallway used almost exclusively by the staff, because his father had thought it looked ugly. Jessie gaped again at a huge two-handed sword, a Scottish claymore encased in glass and hanging on the wall. Vil walked behind him with Benson trying to hurry to keep up, until they reached a nondescript door devoid of decoration or filigree, the door to the private apartment of Clancy.

He knocked quickly, then opened the door before there was any response. He poked his head in and called out for Clancy, looking into a room he hadn't seen for seven years. It was an elegantly decorated living room, with a simple chair and tea table near a fireplace, a couch facing the fireplace, and a television in the corner that had the look of almost never being used. A stereo was in a rack beside the TV, complete with a turntable so Clancy could play his collection of Big Band era music, his favorite music genre. "Clancy?" Kit called.

"Kit my boy!" came a reedy response. "Please, come inside!"

Kit led Jessie and Vil into the apartment, and held tightly to her paw as she looked around. Vil stood just behind, then moved out of the way when Benson had a young maid Kit didn't know bring in a tray with tea and scones and set it on the tea table. Clancy hobbled into view in the hallway leading back to his den, separate bathroom, and bedroom, leaning heavily on his cane. Kit stared a moment, for Vil was right, Clancy looked old. His fur was dull and thinning, and the white fur of age had invaded the red fur all over his muzzle, cheeks, and head. He was wearing a smart gray suit without a coat, his white shirt and vest showing as he limped into the living room. He was moving very slowly, and Kit saw that the paw not on his cane was visibly shaking. When did this happen? When Kit talked to him on the phone, his voice was always the same, strong and eloquent, the diction of a fox with an impeccable education. His voice had never betrayed this shocking decline in Clancy's physical health, and he'd never said a word about it outside of just saying he was tired from time to time.

"Clancy," Kit said with a concerned look, helping the old fox to his chair by the fireplace. "How have you been, you old rascal?"

He smiled wearily. "I've felt better, my boy," he said honestly. "I've just gotten over a bout of the flu, and I'm still feeling a trifle under the weather. Ah, Jessica, I'm glad he brought you," he said, smiling at her. "And Miss Vilenne as well! Both of Master Lucas' children together in Stonebrook. Ah, a happy day for me," he told them with an honest smile. "I do so wish you'd come home, my boy. You are a Vulpan, and this is where you belong."

"Clancy, you know I'll never come back here," Kit told him. "I have a life now, a life in Austin. I have friends, I've bought into the magazine where I work and now I'm a part owner, I have plans. And I'd never live up here so near the family with Jessie," he added pointedly.

"Ah, true, your family lacks your progressive mindset," Clancy said as he settled into his chair and reached for the teapot. "Now let me pour you some tea."

"I'll do it, Mister Clancy," Jessie said, picking up the teapot before he could reach it. "We didn't come here so you could wait on us."

He chuckled. "An old habit that I fear will never fade," he admitted as Jessie poured the tea.

Kit was really worried. Clancy looked so, so weak. So old. He was 73 years old, but that had barely slowed him down when Kit remembered him from his late sixties. Just three months ago, he'd looked much healthier than he looked now. But he didn't let that show, he instead talked with him warmly, and let him tell Jessie quite a few stories about when Vil and Kit were kids. Several of them made both siblings' cheeks ruffle a bit, and made Jessie laugh.

"Vil, I never knew you were a car thief!" she teased when Clancy related the first time Vil had stolen one of her father's cars and drove it around the manor. There were quite a few more roads than just the main driveway on the manor. There were roads to the cottages, service roads used by the groundskeepers, a road to the boat dock, and a road leading to a never-used alternate entrance through the back gate, down by the river, which was much wider than the front gate and lacked an overhead frame. It was an industrial entrance left over from when they built the indoor pool, which would let them tow a boat or other large or heavy equipment in or out of the manor.

"Well, it's dad's fault for keeping the keys to all his cars in a rack by the garage door," Vil said with a smile. "Boy, was he mad, because I ran into a post down by the boat cottage and scratched the paint of his thirty-six Ford. He took getting it repainted out of my allowance," she laughed.

"That is nothing, though, compared to what Kit did," Clancy smiled.

"Here it comes, his favorite story," Kit sighed, which made Jessie giggle. Clancy did tell that story, the infamous day that Kit set fire to his father's brand new Bentley, which had just been delivered two days before the incident. He went into great detail about how the fire department had to come and put it out, then all the questions and investigations that followed. Kit had managed to keep his involvement a secret for about five days, but the arson investigator had managed to isolate Kit as the only remaining suspect, and Kit cracked under the pressure they brought to bear.

"It's silly to be jealous of a car, but I was," Kit mused as he remembered that. "Dad seemed more interested in the car than in me, so I torched it. They never knew I did it on purpose until I was sixteen, when I admitted it just before I walked out."

"Oh, if these old walls could talk, they would have quite a tale to tell," Clancy said with a watery smile. "Sixty-eight years, my dear, that's how long the Vulpans have lived in Stonebrook. Kitstrom Arthur Vulpan, Kit's great-grandfather, bought the land in nineteen and thirty-eight, and Kit's grandfather, Kitstrom Daniel, started construction on the main manor house in nineteen and thirty-nine, when he was seventeen. It had always been Samuel's dream to build Stonebrook, but he died before they began construction, leaving young Daniel to shoulder both the burden of running the company and building the manor. It was finished in nineteen and forty, and I remember the first day I stepped through the gates, back when they were brand new," he said wistfully, his eyes distant. "I have lived and served in this manor since the day it was opened, my dear. My father was one of the first butlers of the manor, and I joined the staff after college, returning to take my father's place and allowing him to retire. The Vulpans have lived in this house since it was built, but a Warrington has served on the staff. My son is the chief butler now," he smiled. "Following in the family tradition. He detests your uncle, my boy," he said with a slight smile. "I really do wish you would return home and drive him out. You have so much more right to this estate than your uncle ever did. You and Vilenne, it is yours, and he has no right to try to claim it."

"Well, I agreed to let him live here as part of the agreement to split up the family fortune," Vil reminded him. "But he didn't read all the fine print," she said with a purring voice. "He never does. That's his one weakness."

"What fine print?" Kit asked.

"If you ever return to the manor and take residence, he has to leave," she answered. "Not me, you. And once he's gone, he can't return if you maintain residence for a time considered it a permanent change of address. So, if you move back up here, change your license to Massachusetts, and settle into the manor, Uncle Zach will have to move out. And once he's out, he stays out."

"I don't remember reading that."

"You didn't read the agreement, Kit. Zach did, but he didn't read it carefully. You and me are on the deed of the manor as the owners, jointly. But the legal agreement that everyone signed includes that clause. And Zach knows about it," she added with a wicked smile. "His lawyer finally noticed it, and we had quite a little spat about it about a month ago. But there's nothing he can do. If he challenges the clause, he has to challenge the entire contract, it's specifically written that way. You can't challenge any one part of it without challenging all of it. And if he does that, well, he could lose everything if he wins, because his victory would void the contract, returning everything back to Kit. And I doubt Kit would be feeling very magnanimous if Zach dragged him back into family business again, especially when he'd be doing it for no reason but pride and greed."

"But he agreed not to get anything," Jessie protested.

"That agreement is in the same contract, Jessie. If that contract is voided, then Kit can lay legal claim to everything. And I mean everything. He'd leave the family completely broke."

Jessie giggled. "That's mean, Vil."

"I'm a mean girl," she said without batting an eye. "Zach thought he was nicking the bait off the hook when I drew up the contract, but he didn't read it closely enough to see the little hooks that are spread through the whole thing, almost like little mines. Those clauses are there to absolutely ensure the good behavior of the elders towards Kit. If they violate any one clause, then Kit can strip them of their money."

"Yes, Vilenne outdid herself when her lawyers prepared that agreement. The conditions of the split of the money are very specific, and they were worded in such a way that it seemed that restrictions against Kit were also restrictions against the family."

"This is news to me," Kit said seriously.

"I put it together to keep them off your back, bro," she answered. "For example, no member of the family can ever sue you in court. If any of them ever does, it voids the deal. Any challenge to the contract, by the structure of the contract, voids the entire contract if any one section of it is thrown out. So, if anyone gets the bright idea to try to get the deal altered, they lose everything. If they win, then the deal that gives them all their money is gone and Kit takes it back. It's also in the contract that anyone who helped you after you were disowned by Dad, back when his will was in effect, have retroactive immunity, an ex post facto clause. My past deeds can't be used as a basis to try to challenge the existing contract. I mainly put that in there to stop Zach from trying to steal the CEO chair and stocks away from me, to hamstring any ideas he had of pulling a Cybil. Oh, and it's also in the contract that if any Vulpan is convicted of a crime against Kit, Kit can call to have the contract voided for that family member, and that money comes to me," she said with a sly little smile. "So, anyone who does anything against Kit ends up surrendering his or her entire fortune to me, and the same conditions Dad had against Kit in his original will are put in effect against the guilty party. So, Uncle Zach can't have cousin Victor beat Kit with a crowbar or try to make Jessie have a miscarriage with the promise that he'd give Victor money to cover what he'd lose when he was convicted. Even if he wasn't convicted of conspiracy, if he ever gave Victor a dime of his own money, he'd lose everything to me. And I'll just turn around and give it to Kit's children," she smiled evilly.

"That is the true masterpiece of the contract," Clancy chuckled weakly. "If you were so much as slapped in the face by your uncle, and he was convicted of it in a court of law, then he loses everything to the one member of the family who will never give it back. And it puts any member of the family who does this in the same situation from which you climbed out, Kit, completely disowned from the family with the threat that any aid to the disowned party costs the offender his or her own portion of the family fortune. The clause is brilliant in that it threatens a family member with absolute ruin if they attempt anything against you, my boy."

"How did you slip that past them?" Kit asked in surprise.

"They either didn't read the contract carefully enough, their lawyers didn't bring it to their attention, or they signed it knowing it's there, I can't really tell you. But, see bro, I made sure you were well protected," Vil smiled. "I have the family nailed to the mast. They can't take any action against you without risking their own fortunes."

"And you wondered why they were so quiet up here," Jessie laughed. "Now we know!"

"I have everything under control," Vil purred, sipping her tea.

"Damn, sis, that's… just brilliant," he said in admiration.

"Thank you," she said with a knowing smile. "Oh, by the way, next week, you should pick up the Sun from an international newsstand and read it."

"The English one? Are you going after Cybil now?"

She smiled and nodded. "She's had a few months to think that I've forgotten all about her and that she's safe, so now I start skinning her out of her mangy hide one little strip at a time," she said vindictively. "The first shot will be fired Monday morning, after the Sun prints a very revealing little investigative article about Lady Cybil Whitmore." She looked at Jessie. "As promised, Jess, I'm gonna make her hurt."

"Good," Jessie said, taking a rather savage bite out of her scone.

They stayed with Clancy for another three hours, letting him spin tales of the Vulpan children's youth, while Kit pondered what he'd learned about the contract. Actually, it made perfect sense. It was why Zach had not tried to stop him from seeing Clancy, why he was staying far away. He faced utter ruin if he got into a confrontation with Kit, lost his head, and did something stupid. And if he didn't do that, he risked getting evicted from Stonebrook if he angered Kit enough to cause him to move back to Boston and take residence in the house, which would force Zach and his family to move out of the manor. Oh, Zach had about 12 other houses to which he could move, it wasn't like he'd be out on the street, but it would be a stinging blow to his ego to be forced out of Stonebrook, out of the ancestral seat of the power of the Vulpan family. That had to be why Zach was avoiding Kit, to both not do something stupid, and not give Kit any reason to get angry enough to come after Zach in the one way he could that Zach could do nothing to prevent.

"Well, I'm finding myself a bit in need of a nap," Clancy finally said. Kit helped him to his feet, and the old fox gave him a gentle hug. "I'm honored you came all the way up here to see me, my boy."

"When you couldn't make it to the party, I had to make sure to bring the party to you, Clancy," Kit answered, patting him on the back. "It was so good to see you!"

"And you too, my boy. Now, you can make an old fox happy and come home."

"My home's in Austin now, Clancy."

"No, your home will always be here, young Kitstrom," he said firmly. "This is your home. The bad memories that linger in this place can be cleaned away like so much dust, and replaced with what is good and proper. And it is only proper that the son of Lucas and Beth Vulpan live in the home that is his by birthright."

"I'd be lost in here anymore," Kit laughed. "And I couldn't afford the electric bill, let alone paying everyone's salaries."

"Tosh," he sniffed, then he was surprised when Jessie hugged him.

"It was good to see you again, Mister Clancy," she told him. "I really enjoyed talking with you."

"I'm glad you did, my dear, I'm glad you did," he said, patting her on the back. "I'll admit to you, my dear, I was honestly hesitant when I heard Kit was marrying a cat, but you have won me over. Kit could not have found a better femme and a mother for his children."

"Aww, thanks, Clancy," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't be a stranger, dear," Clancy said, kissing Vil and taking her paw.

"Of course not!" she laughed. "I'll be over to see you on Thursday. So just keep your chin up, old male, and know we still love you."

"That comforts me in ways you'll never know, my young ones," he smiled. "Now, forgive a host for bad manners, but I really do need to have a lie down."

Kit was very quiet when they left Clancy's apartment. Vil was right, he did look… tired. Age was catching up with him. He'd been sick, he'd said, so Kit fervently hoped that some of what he was seeing was Clancy recovering from the flu. But he looked both old and weary, and that was never a good combination.

Kit made a very special point in his mind to call Clancy much more often… at least once a day from then on. He had to make sure his old friend, the fox that had all but raised Kit since he was nine, was doing alright.

It was a very concerned Kit that walked the halls back to the garage, so preoccupied by Clancy's condition that he felt none of the anxiety and fear he'd felt when he arrived. Jessie kept hold of his paw, squeezing it reassuringly, and she sidled up to him and put her arm around him when they waited in the heated garage for Vil's limo; Stav had taken it to the private gas pump on the grounds and filled up the tank, and the car was on the way back.

"Vil, how long has he been that bad?" he finally asked.

"He's improved somewhat," she answered. "He really was sick. He had the flu. But that was nearly a month ago, and it's taken him all this time to get his legs back under him. I'm sure he'll recover more, but Kit…"

"I know," he said quietly.

"Does he like cookies, Vil? I think I'd like to send him some when I get home."

"I can buy—"

"No, I want to make them for him. A homemade cookie always makes a fur feel like someone's thinking just about him. I want him to open a box of cookies and know they were made just for him."

"You are such a treasure, Jessie," Vil smiled as the garage door opened, and the limo rolled in. "Clancy loves peanut butter cookies, but his favorite treats are cherry scones. If you next-day aired those, they should reach him fresh."

"Hmm, I'll have to look up how to make those."

"I'll have the recipe the kitchen uses emailed to your Blackberry before we leave Boston," she promised.

Once they were back in the limo, Kit looked back at the tan granite of Stonebrook and could only sigh in relief that he was leaving. He was even more relieved in that Zach wouldn't be bothering him… probably ever. Vil had never explained that little trick in the contract they all signed, but it certainly explained why it had been so quiet in Boston since the court case. The one thing the Vulpans wouldn't dare would be to get stripped of their money and end up destitute.

For some strange reason, as he looked back on Stonebrook, he felt… a benediction. Even more than the end of the court case, as they drove away from that tan manor, he again felt… free. Always before there was a chance that the family might find some way to annoy him, but Vil had outdone herself in fixing it so they would never dare try to disrupt his life, by putting their fortunes on the line if they did so. He looked back on that manor, that source of so much pain, and he felt, well, not quite so nervous as he had when he arrived. The pain of Boston would always be there, but now he knew, completely, utterly, that there would be no more.

He was beyond the reach of the family.

The sun began to shine as clouds over the manor moved away, and in a way, that was how he felt inside himself. The dark shadows of his family were being chased away, and it was a fresh start, a new day, a chance to move on and feel that he was in total control of his life—well, as much control as Vil would let him have. He had no illusions about still being tied to her apron strings, because she was still on her mission to force him to take what she believed was owed to him. But those were battles for another day… and God, he knew there were going to be some doozies. He had no doubt that she had either already bought a house in Austin, or was looking for one, and was going to try to force him into it. But he'd have those fights with her when the time came.


Kendall Brighton was a tall, athletic, young, very attractive red fox. His eyes were green instead of the pattern amber common among foxes, and he was devilishly attractive, with strong cheeks and a boxy muzzle. His hair, like Corey's, was not the same color as the fur on the top of his head, which was rare for male foxes, though not quite so rare for vixens. His hair was a dark chestnut, cut short and away from his ears, but a little long in the back. Much to Kit's surprise, Kendall Brighton had an earring in his left ear, which branded him as an absolute maverick when it came to British upper-crust society. Such things were almost unheard of among the British blue-bloods.

Kit's first impression of him that this couldn't be a member of the Brighton family, that he had to be an impostor. He did fly in on a private Lear jet, but when he came down the steps, he was dressed in a Boston Celtics sweatshirt, blue jeans, and sturdy hiking boots, with his windbreaker jacket thrown over his shoulder negligently. With that earring and his casual demeanor, Kendall could walk into any bar in Boston and not make a single eye take notice of him. But when he spoke, it was abundantly clear that this was not an American fox. "Kendall Brighton," he said in a Manchester accent, shaking Kit's paw as he reached them. "You must be Kit and Jessie. Villy's gone on and on about you two."

"Villy?"

"I cannot make him stop calling me that," Vil growled, slapping him on the shoulder, which made him smile roguishly behind her back.

Needless to say, Kit took an immediate liking to the male.

"Hi, I'm Jessie Vulpan," Jessie introduced, and he took her paw and kissed the back of it, which made her cheeks ruffle slightly.

"Charmed, Jessie, charmed. I must say, you're just as pretty as the pictures Villy's showed me. So, you're going to be an English teacher?" he asked with sincere interest.

Kit's impression of Kendall only improved while they were in the limo, on the way to Boston Garden. "Villy wanted us to go out to a swanky restaurant, but I get enough of that at home," he said with a chuckle. "I told her she could really make my weekend by taking me to a Celtics game and feeding me hot dogs and beer at the Garden."

"I think taking him to a five star restaurant might be cheaper than eating dogs and burgers at the Garden," Vil grunted, which made them all laugh.

"I have to wear a suit five days a week, the last thing I wanted to do was come down here on my day off and put on a suit just to eat dinner," he grinned. "I'd rather be wearing a Manchester United tee and some trousers than a suit."

"What do you do, Kendall?" Jessie asked.

"Work for Brighton Industries, of course," he answered easily. "I'm in the public relations department, putting a good face on the family business. We build ships, Jessie, same as your family. 'Course, right now my official job, straight from the old male, is woo Vil and marry into the Vulpan family," he admitted with a light smile at Vil. "I heard the old male started working on a pre-nup the minute after he introduced us at a mixer at Oxford."

"He was certainly listening to wedding bells when he did that," Vil grunted darkly.

"Well, you two are going out," Kit noted.

"True, but that's just because it's hard to find a gal who understands, Kit. Villy understands, so it's easy to go out with her. No pressure, no having to worry if she's a gold-digger. By Jove, she's three times richer than I am, she's the one probably worrying if I'm the gold-digger," he laughed. "Besides that, she's a damn smart lady who I love to talk to. She's the perfect girl. Brains, beauty, and someone who's not after me for my family's money."

"Well, you're certainly doing the job your father gave you," Jessie giggled.

"I guess it shows how desperate I am to find a girlfriend when I'm flying across the pond just to go on a date," he admitted with a self-deprecating smile.

"You flew across the pond because you know my family has a skybox and courtside seats in the Garden," she teased in reply.

"Well, that's certainly a perk," he winked. "So, you work in a magazine, Kit? What do you do there?"

Kit and Jessie got to know Kendall on the trip to the Garden, and they continued to talk as they pulled into the VIP garage and walked towards the arena. Stav and Marcus walked quietly behind them as they padded along, moving among other furs who were there to see the game. They went up an elevator to a carpeted, much quieter section of the arena, until they reached a door that had the Vulpan name stenciled under the skybox number. Kit had never been in this skybox before, since the last time he was at a Celtics game it was in the original Boston Garden, and the new box was much nicer. It was the size of a large living room, with huge glass windows that would let them look down on the game. Three huge LCD monitors were arrayed through the room so no matter where one was, a TV was visible so not a second of the game would be missed. There were two large couches, a table with raised chairs, chairs in front of the glass windows, and even a private bathroom just for the skybox. Vil picked up the phone hanging on the wall by the door. "Yes, this is the Vulpan skybox," she said. "I'd like you to send up a platter of hot dogs, hamburgers, french fries, and condiments, enough for five furs. I'd also like a platter of mixed raw vegetables with ranch dip. Hold on," she said, then she looked to Stav and Marcus. "What do you want to drink?" she asked them.

"Tea, madam," Stav answered.

"Tea for me as well, madam," Marcus added.

"Alright, send up a pot of Farthing tea, a glass of berry Aquafina, and a pitcher of Guinness draft."

"Ah, bless you for remembering, Villy," Kendall laughed. "A game's not a game without a pint of Guinny, be it football or basketball."

"Send it up as soon as it's ready," Vil finished, then she hung up the phone.

After they settled in on the couch, Jessie sitting on her feet and nestled up against Kit, Kendall looked to them. "So, Jessie, I have to ask you something, and it might be a tad personal."

"That's alright, I just won't answer if it's too personal," she smiled.

He grinned at her. "Did it bother you much, knowing what kind of family you were marrying into?"

"Watch it, buster," Vil teased, slapping him on the shoulder.

Jessie laughed. "It was scary," she admitted. "Kit was terrified of his family when we first met, and I had to really work to make him look past them and look at me. They were the faceless, distant furs that didn't seem to matter, at least until the day Kit was shot. It was then that I realized that he hadn't been joking about his family. But I wasn't about to let them win," she declared, lacing her fingers between Kit's and patting the back of his paw with her other paw. "If I'd have let them scare me away from him, they'd have won, and I wasn't going to let them win. He was worth it, he was worth fighting for him."

"My fearless kitty," Kit said lovingly, kissing the back of her paw much as Kendall had done. "She owns me now," Kit laughed. "She chased my family away, and now I'm all hers. It's her prize for being so determined."

"And what's most admirable is she did it knowing he was broke, that he was disowned," Vil added. "She knew the full truth about him. Jessie is no gold-digger. She wanted my brother for who he is, not who his family is."

"Yeah. I always thought it would be neat to be rich, but then I met Kit's family face to face, and I realized that Kit was absolutely right about them, and about the Vulpan fortune. It's a curse," she declared. "It turned his family against itself. They don't love each other. They hate each other, all they care about is their money. Every other Vulpan outside of Kit I've met so far except for two have been really messed up," she said.

"And who are those two?" Kendall asked.

"Vil and their cousin Terry. Sheila, Muffy, the rest of them, they're all, well, tainted by the Vulpan fortune. I love Sheila a lot, but even though I love her, I have to say that she's just as affected by her family's curse as the rest of them. She's hedonistic and self-centered. Kit showed that he's just a very smart male to stay away from that money. He's a brilliant and exceptional fox, he can earn us our own fortune," she said with a loving smile, patting his scarred forearm. "Then we can feel good about being rich, because we earned it, we weren't given it."

"Only with you there helping me, pretty kitty," he chuckled.

"You heard it here first, Ken," Vil said with a smile. "Kit will be a self-made millionaire by the time he's thirty-five. Maybe even sooner. He's settled down and found his business, he bought into the magazine where he works as a part owner. And between him and that clever dingo he's partners with, they're already well on their way to building their magazine into a profit powerhouse. He may be estranged from the family, but when it comes to the traits that built the Vulpan empire, he has them all in spades. Foresight, determination, wisdom, and a feel for the market."

"I'm blushing here," Kit laughed, a little embarrassed by all the praise.

"He has to use them, since he doesn't have the world handed to him on a silver platter," Kendall nodded. "That's why the old male makes every Brighton work. If you want to be a Brighton, you contribute. You'll have time to sit on your arse and eat caviar when you retire."

"I wish I could make my family do that," Vil chuckled.

"So, are you sure you want to marry into the Vulpan family, Kendall?"

"Call me Ken, and I won't be marrying into the family so much as marrying the best part of it," he said, smiling at Vil unashamedly.

"Such a schmoozer," Vil laughed.

"I'm just doing what the old male said to do," he grinned. "He said if a fox as handsome and educated as me couldn't woo a femme like Villy, he'd disown me. You don't want me to have to go work in a pub, do you?" he asked, looking at her with outrageously fake puppy-dog eyes, which made Jessie erupt into laughter.

"If you keep calling me Villy, I'll buy out Brighton Industries if only to fire you," she retorted with a smile.

The food arrived, and conversation ebbed so two of the most powerful families in the western world could eat hamburgers and hot dogs at a stand-up table, laugh, and talk about nothing important whatsoever. They enjoyed the amenities of the skybox, until there was a knock at the door. It opened before anyone could say anything, and Suzy poked her head in. "Vil? Kit!" she said with a happy squeal, rushing in. Kit moved out from around the table and gave her a huge hug. "Surprise!"

"I'm so happy to see you!" he said with an honest smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Vil invited me and Corey to see the game!" she said with a smile, looking to the doorway. Corey was hurrying in. "You know you can't come to Boston without seeing us!" she grinned at him.

"I'm glad Vil found a way to get you in," he laughed. "She's been running us around most of the day."

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Vil laughed a she gave Corey a chaste hug, then kissed Suzy on the cheek. "Suzy, Corey, this is Kendall," she introduced. "Ken, this is my best friend Suzy, and her boyfriend Corey."

"Ah, the film maker!" Kendall said with an earnest smile, shaking Corey's paw. "We really have to talk!"

"We've heard a lot about you too, Kendall," Suzy smiled as she accepted a kiss on the paw from him. "Things like that," she winked.

"I'm a British gentlefur, I have manners," he said stuffily. But then he belched loudly, which paralyzed the entire skybox with laughter, even Stav and Marcus.

Suzy and Corey joined them at the table to help them finish off the meal—and Vil's order of vegetables came into focus when Suzy and Corey arrived, since Suzy loved raw vegetables—and a new round of introductory chatter and stories passed across the table, as Suzy, Corey, and Kendall got to know each other.

But there was a game to see, so they left Stav and Marcus in the box to go down to courtside about fifteen minutes before the game was slated to begin. The Vulpans owned six seats directly behind the Celtics bench, and they took them all up they settled in. Kit and Jessie found themselves in the middle, almost protectively, as Vil and Kendall sat to their left, and Suzy and Corey sat to their right. "Do you watch much basketball in England, Kendall?" Corey asked.

"Call me Ken, and yes, I love basketball!" he said enthusiastically, pointing to his Celtics sweatshirt. "Almost as much as I love football. I didn't just buy this for the trip over, the Celtics are my favorite American team."

"Well, that shirt does look a little worn," Jessie giggled.

"I'll buy a couple of new ones before I go back to London," he said. "I'm sure they sell some here in the arena. They'll feel more special in having come straight from the Garden."

"They're very expensive, though," Corey warned.

"There are some things that are more important than mere money," he said in a deadly serious voice that made Kit and Corey laugh, and Vil roll her eyes.

Kit noticed that there were already a few camera flashes, before the players were even introduced, and he realized that some furs on the far side of the court were taking pictures of them. But there was really nothing they could do about it. He lost interest in that when the announcer's voice called over the PA, the lights dimmed, and the pregame activities got started. The Celtics were playing the Charlotte Bobcats tonight, which most were expecting to be a steamroll game since the Celtics had already clinched a playoff spot and the Bobcats weren't doing too well this year, but were in the running for the last playoff spot.

It was indeed a steamroll, but it was still a lot of fun. Kit hadn't been to a sporting event in years, and he really had fun cheering the Celtics, and watching as Kendall kept trying to steal towels from the Celtic players' chairs. The arena cameras even caught him doing it, showing him sliding his paw out with a naughty grin on his face, then snapping back and looking all innocent every time a player looked at him. The players seemed to realize he was just playing, and security was reluctant to stop him because he was obviously with Vil. The players even got into it a little bit themselves once the Celtics were twenty points ahead, dangling towels in front of him the waggling a finger at him. At one point, he even got down on his knees and begged with those outrageously fake puppy-dog eyes, which made Kevin Garnett laugh, grab someone else's towel from an empty chair, and throw it to him. He jumped up and down and swung it in the air, then threw it over his shoulders and sat back down.

Kendall seemed fun-loving and maybe little like Sheila, until he heard him and Vil talk business, discussing both shipyard business and the general state of the global economy. That was when Kit realized that the silly male that was trying to steal towels from players was indeed an Oxford graduate. He had a vast understanding of economics and business, and was able to give Vil brisk and intellectually challenging conversation in her own areas of expertise.

She wasn't the only one listening, Kit noticed. Two Celtics players were leaning back as Vil and Kendall were discussing the housing bubble, and Kendall explained to her why he was positive it was nowhere near the end of bursting, and how it might trigger a global economic recession if it continued on unchecked. "Too many banks have tied up too many assets into mortgage security bundles," he told her. "With those mortgages defaulting in huge numbers, those securities are going to crash, and the market mark policy the American system imposes is going to destroy the value of those securities as American real estate values decline. Without those assets, it's going to wipe out liquidity and put a major crunch on everything, The global stock markets will drop sharply, and the economic slowdown will cause the price of oil to go way down. The entire financial system is built on a foundation of sand that's seeping through holes drilled through the bedrock by the mortgage issue. It's already happening, Vil, look at Bear Sterns. That won't be the first major investment bank to go under before it's all over."

"So you're predicting gloom and doom?"

"I've already pulled my money out of stocks," he declared immediately. "I don't predict anything, dear Vil, I act on my instincts. And my instincts tell me to get out of the stock markets, because some time in the next six months, they're going to crash. It could be tomorrow, it could be late October, but I can feel it coming. I'll let them bottom out, clean out the dodders, then pick up some bargains. Either I'm right or I'm wrong, but either way I'm ready because I won't be losing my money."

Kit noticed those players pulling out some PDAs and making some entries.

The Celtics won handily, and Kendall got quite a bit more than he bargained for when Kevin Garnett pulled off his jersey and tossed it to him. "I figure you earned it if I don't take a bath in the market," he grinned, then the lanky hyena jogged off with the rest of his team back to the locker room.

"I couldn't buy this!" Kendall beamed, clutching the jersey to his breast. "I'll never wash it!"

"Then I'm not coming to see your house," Vil murmured.

They parted with Suzy and Corey up at the skybox, since Suzy had to catch a plane to Cleveland in the morning to look over possible sites for a Yankee Bytes store. Suzy was still the vice president in charge of Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Massachusetts, but her father was having all the kids go with him and get engaged in the expansion. It was Suzy's turn to go with her father to look at expansion possibilities. They left the skybox after having a short nightcap of tea, mainly to let the crowds thin out, and started out themselves. Kendall made sure to still buy a couple of Celtics tee shirts at a stand on the way out, spending over a hundred dollars on two tees, a hat, and a new sweatshirt.

"Now that was fun!" Kendall said brightly when they got back into the limo. "Where to next?"

"I'm taking Kit and Jessie back to their hotel," she answered. "They're going back home tomorrow morning."

"Why not later? I'll be here tomorrow."

"Because Jessie's still in school, and she's pregnant, so they need to get back so she can rest and get her studying done."

"Really? Congratulations!" Kendall said brightly, kissing her paw.

"I'm not made of glass, Vil, I don't need to rest," Jessie protested.

"But you do have to do your homework," Kit said firmly. "And you have finals coming up. Don't you have a paper due on Monday?"

She gave him a cold stare.

"I promised your mother our marriage wouldn't hurt your grades. I'd rather not have her trying to drag us to the courthouse to file for divorce."

"She would do it," Vil laughed.

Vil and Kendall dropped them off at the hotel, and got out of the limo to take them inside. Vil hugged each of them in turn, and Kendall shook their paws. "I'm not sure if I'll see you tomorrow, because Kendall's taking me to New York tomorrow morning," she said. "If we don't, then have a good flight home. I'll have a limo here at six, and it'll wait for you until you get up and decide to go, so don't worry about getting to the airport. Remember, the jet will be ready to go whenever you wake up and get there, so don't feel rushed."

"We will. Thanks, sis, thanks for a good day."

"Gotta build those good memories of Boston, bro," she smiled, then she kissed him on the cheek.

"Well, let's say you laid a foundation today," he told her, kissing her back. "But I still want out of Boston as fast as possible."

They waved to each other, and then Vil and Kendall went back out to the limo. Jessie took his paw and watched them go with him, then she put her arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. "What do you think of him?"

"I think Vil found her husband," Kit said immediately. "She'll probably date him for about six more months to feel him out and make sure he's what he appears to be, then she'll hint that she'd be amenable to him proposing."

"I like him," she smiled. "He's funny and charming and really, really smart."

"Vil won't be winning every argument against him, that's for sure," he chuckled. "Come on, you, let's get you upstairs and into bed."

"It's not even eleven," she protested.

"Who said we were going to sleep?" he asked with a husky whisper in her ear.

She shivered slightly, her tail sticking straight out, then she gave him a daring little smile. "Why are we standing here, then?" she challenged.


It was nice to get back to nice, warm Texas.

They landed at Bergstrom at about two in the afternoon, going from the thirty degrees in Boston to seventy degrees in Austin. Jessie did most of her homework on the plane heading home, but Kit was also glad to be home, and be out of Boston. Even though he'd had a good day, it was still Boston, and Jessie understood. That was why she'd not objected too much when they left so early. Kit had had a good day, and he wanted out of Boston before something happened that ruined the trip for them.

His visit did not go unnoticed. In the Sunday paper, there was a picture of them at the game, with the short blurb beside it reading Vilenne Vulpan shows off new beau, Kendall Brighton, at Celtics game along with her recently reconciled brother Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan III, his wife Jessica Vulpan, Susan Jenkins, whose family owns the Yankee Bytes chain of electronics stores, and Corey Reeves, whose family owns Cape Cod Shipping. In the picture, Kendall, Kit, and Corey were all standing with their fists in the air, cheering a Celtics basket, Vil and Jessie were looking at each other, clearly talking, while Suzy was taking a beer from a vendor with a smile of acceptance.

Kit and Jessie pulled into the apartment complex just in time for poker. They put their things away, then they showed up over at Lupe's and spent an hour chatting, telling them all about their trip. Poker was a bit thin that week, with just Lupe, Dan, Kevin, Sam, and Mickey; Jeffrey and Sandy were out on a date, and Sheila hadn't shown up either.

Kit called Rick as Jessie settled in with her other homework, getting her flight training books out. "Hey, Rick," Kit called. "Did you get the numbers yet?"

"I have partials, and while they're better than last week, I don't think we'll hit the black this week," he said, fretting a bit over the phone.

"But they're better?"

"I'll know for sure on Monday, but I think they'll be higher."

"That's all we need. We just keep putting them out. I know we have enough to print the same amount next week and still pay everyone."

"I'm not sure how long we can keep this up, son," Rick said seriously.

"Until we turn a profit," Kit answered calmly. "I'm not worried, Rick. I know we're going to turn a profit. We just have to be persistent and keep trying."

"It's risky."

"Risk is part of the game," he said simply. "We were just lucky to get so far without hitting a rough patch."

"True," Rick grunted.

"Just trust me, Rick," Kit told him. "I'm willing to put up the money for it, so don't worry about it. I think you know I'd never waste my money. I only back what I think can win, and I know we can do this."

"Well, you're putting your money where your mouth is, that's for sure," Rick said. "So much so that I'm considering taking a mortgage out on the ranch to raise some more capital. I can't let you take all the risk yourself."

"No," Kit said quickly, remembering what Kendall said. "Don't take out a mortgage. If you want to raise money, take out a business loan, but don't do a mortgage right now, the market for it is very bad."

"You sure?"

"I talked to someone yesterday who knows economics, and he said the mortgage market is about to explode, which will drag down real estate values. You'll stand a better chance with a business loan, but I don't think it's necessary, Rick, at least not yet. I can pay for three more weeks at the current print volume and still pay our paychecks, so let's go those three weeks and see what happens. I'll be getting ready to go to Kansas about then, so we can make our decisions before I leave."

"Alright, but I'm not entire sure I like this, son. You've already dropped so much money into the magazine."

"And I'll get back every penny and more," Kit said confidently. "As long as we keep putting out the same high quality, we will sell at a profit." He scratched his cheek. "We'll talk about it in the morning, I'm gonna come in to make up taking Saturday off."

"Sure thing, son. You just get back?"

"Yeah."

"How did it go?"

"Good and bad," he answered. "Good in that it was nice to see Vil and meet her boyfriend, bad that Clancy didn't look very good at all. I'm really worried about him. Jessie's going to bake him some scones and send them to him tomorrow," Kit said with a loving smile at her as she went into the kitchen.

"I need cherries, go get some!" she told him from the kitchen.

"And I just got nailed to be an errand boy," Kit chuckled, "so I'll see you in the morning."

"See you then, son. Bye."

"Bye," he mirrored and closed his phone. "Do I need to get you anything else?" he called.

"Just cherries," she answered. "How does salmon steaks sound for dinner?"

"Sounds fine with me," he said, digging his keys out of his pocket.


Monday's figures were encouraging. They weren't great, but they were encouraging. There was a solid increase in sales at all sites, up nearly 25%, which put the magazine only moderately in the red for the week. They had a really good issue coming up, though, for Barry had an interview with Governor Rick Perry… which was quite a surprise to almost everyone.

Governor Perry called the magazine last night. They didn't go after that interview, the Governor had come to them. He called Rick on his business phone last night and said that he had forty-five minutes of available time on Tuesday and wanted to give an interview to the magazine because he felt they'd done a good job, and he wanted to interview with someone that spoke to the young voter… and in Austin, he said, that was the readers of Lone Star.

That more than anything showed Kit that the magazine was spreading, and there was a real potential to make it take off here.

Needless to say, as soon as Kit and Rick had their meeting that morning, the entire magazine went into a blitz of activity. Barry and Janet would be going to do the interview, and Kit was going to make sure that he was well armed for it. Lilly ended up doing some easy research for Marty and Denise as Kit devoted himself to the project, fully intending to research Perry so thoroughly that Barry went into that interview knowing what size underwear the governor wore when he was 14. Jessie came in after school, did her homework in her office, then spent a little time with Jeffrey setting up their next week of Missy and Cutler, then she went and got pizza for Barry, Kit, and Rick, since they were working late that night to get ready for the interview. They had a long meeting around seven when Kit gave Barry all his research, and Rick discussed what Barry would ask. Barry was by far their best interviewer, much better than Kit; it was Kit that emulated Barry's style when he did interviews, so Kit had no doubt that the Governor would watch Barry leave his office tomorrow morning feeling like he'd been skinned, but skinned fairly. Barry was utterly non-partisan. His role model was Tim Russert, who played devil's advocate with all interviews, asking tough but fair questions that forced the guest to reveal his true feelings and views. Barry could pick apart talking points and doublespeak with ridiculous ease and relentlessly pursue a straight answer, and woe to any politician that wasn't ready when they sat down with him… as the Austin Commissioner of Elections discovered a while ago. But no matter how tough he was on the other fur, he was always exquisitely polite and gave the fur the chance to explain his views, thoughts, and platforms in as much detail as he wished.

Kit got home late that night, but he was happy. He knew that Barry would give a great interview.

He stayed up late studying the avionics systems in the CJ series of jets. The CJs used the Rockwell Collins Pro Line 21 avionics suite, one of the most vaunted and lauded avionics suites available, and it was the first electronic avionics suite Kit had used that wasn't Garmin. It had many of the same functions as the Garmin—actually many more—but the method to getting to those functions were different, and that was what he had to learn. Kit had gotten the hang of the extra attention he had to pay to things when studying the Mustang, so at least in that regard he was already adapting to the difference between a jet and a multi-engine prop.

They were all a bit nervous when Barry and Janet headed out at nine the next morning. This was, by far, the biggest interview the magazine had managed to score, even bigger than Representative Smith and Senator Hutchison. Barry had only one day to prepare, and that pushed Kit's ability to research to the limit. In about two hours, they'd find out just how well they did.

Everyone was doing other work while Barry was gone, but their minds were on the interview. Kit was keeping himself busy by researching out Lily's upcoming assignment to write an article on the new club that was being built on Congress which was going to be called the Inferno. Rick was rolling around his office aimlessly in his wheelchair, muttering, and Sheila was sitting on the corner of her desk, being interviewed by Marty for some reason, probably for Ask Away.

The whole office stopped when Barry and Janet returned, and when Janet grinned, an explosive sigh of relief rolled through the entire office.

"Barry rocked!" she proclaimed.

"I think it was a good interview," Barry said modestly. "Here, we recorded the whole thing. You guys listen to it while I get an outline ready to write the article."

They did so, listening as Barry grilled the Governor on a variety of issues. The Governor's voice seemed quite surprised that Barry was ready with so many in-depth questions when he answered them, but it didn't sound like annoyance, it sounded more like delight. He answered the questions that were against his platform with honesty, spelling out why he disagreed, and answered the questions that supported his platform with quiet logic rather than passion, explaining his views. Barry asked questions from all over the field, from national issues like the war and economy to local issues like the rise in crime around the U.T. campus over the last few months. In all, Kit felt that Barry had done an outstanding job with the interview.

"You know, I think we should put a transcript of the entire interview up on the website on Monday, after the magazine has had a chance to sell," Mike mused. "Who can type really fast?"

"I can do it, it gives me something to do while waiting for phone calls," Denise volunteered.

"Why transcript it when we can podcast it?" Janet challenged.

"Oh, I was planning to do that too," Mike grinned. "This way we have it available for anyone, including the stone-age furs that don't have Ipods."

Barry presented his first draft of the article that afternoon, and when Kit read it, he saw that it needed almost no editing. Rick did have him correct a couple of very small point, but the big smile on the dingo's face said everything. "Damn fine job, Barry."

"I just wonder when we became a political magazine," Barry chuckled. "We've done more interviews with politicians than anyone else."

"Well, it's election season," Rick chuckled. "That's the big news right now. We'll go back to more normal work after November."

Jessie had an early dinner waiting for him when he got home. "What's going on, pretty kitty?" he asked curiously.

"I want to go up in the plane tonight," she answered, "so I thought we could get dinner done early."

Kit laughed. "I have you so seduced by the Dark Side," he teased.

"I wasn't kidding, handsome fox. When we come back from Kansas, I want to be the one who flies the plane home."

"Well, then let's eat so we can give you some practical time to apply what you've been learning," he smiled.

And they did. After a dinner of beef stew, her mother's excellent recipe, they drove out to the airport. They again had a little impromptu lesson there at the plane, as Kit quizzed Jessie on what she had learned so far, then they got into the plane and Kit walked her through the preflight checklists. She knew them from hearing them so many times, but this time Kit took it slowly and explained why he performed each step, what he was checking, what he was doing and why it was important. When he finished the checklists, he had her get out of the plane, and then he climbed over the center console and got into the copilot's chair.

"What are you doing, love?" she asked curiously.

"It's an entirely different perspective sitting in the real chair, pretty kitty. If you learn from the right seat, you'll be a little awkward when you sit in the left one. So we're going to do this right, with you in the left seat. I can fly the plane from the right side, I did it enough sharing flight time with buddies in the Beech back in flight school."

"Oh. Okay," she said, hopping down and hurrying around the plane.

Instead of doing everything, he had Jessie do it. She was the one that started the plane, she was the one that did a radio check with the tower—in a slightly quavering voice, at that—and she was the one that did everything short of actually guiding the plane out of the hangar. As they taxied, Kit continued to teach her about their plane, and he stressed that what she was learning may be focused on the 400, but it could apply to virtually any plane. "It's the method you need to focus on, pretty kitty," he told her. "This could be our plane, it could be a Skyhawk, it could be a Piper, it could be a Beech or a Grumman, it could be a single prop or a four engine jet, it doesn't matter. If you understand the method, you can apply that method to any plane you fly."

"But wouldn't flying a bigger plane make it different?"

"It'll make it handle differently, and you'll have a lot more to do, but the fundamental method is the same," he told her.

It was a little different taking off from the right seat, but Kit adjusted to it. When they were up, Kit grilled Jessie about what she'd learned so far, about the mechanics of flight, and then he let her have the controls. They stayed relatively low, flying out over the ranch country southeast of Austin, as he let Jessie practice making turns, descending, ascending, and banking. She giggled as they did a fairly sharp bank. "I should turn us over like you did to Dad," she grinned at him.

"Let's save the aerobatics for when you have more time behind the stick," he said mildly. "It's not as simple as just pushing the stick, love. The flight characteristics of the plane will change when you invert it. Actually," he mused, then he looked at the altimeter. "Take us up to ten thousand. Let's introduce you to a stall."

Jessie was introduced to real flying then. She gasped when Kit intentionally stalled the plane, lowering the throttle and hitting the speed brakes, and she looked very frightened as the plane dropped out of the sky, entering a spin due to the way Kit jacked the rudder when the wings stalled. But Kit regained control of the plane with practiced ease, only losing about a thousand feet. "That's something you should never experience in this plane unless you do it on purpose, love," he told her. "This plane is almost impossible to stall by accident. Now, how did I get control back?" he asked.

She dredged her memory. "You work into the spin," she answered. "To get air over your flight surfaces and work to put your nose down more steeply so you can regain control of the plane."

"Very good. How do you get out of a spin?"

"One axis at a time," she answered. "You focus on regaining yaw axis first, because regaining yaw control will make the plan nose down and let you get control back faster. After that, you get back longitudinal control, stopping the corkscrew, then latitudinal by pulling out of the dive."

"Right. And the mechanics of it? How do you do it?"

"By working the controls in the opposite direction. If you're sliding in yaw to the left, push the rudder right. The plane will want to naturally nose down once you slow the yaw spin, and once it noses down it's much easier to regain control."

"Right. What's it called when you enter a spin?"

"Incipient."

"Correct. And after you're fully into the spin?'

"Developed."

"Correct. How do you get out of a spin? What's the key word, love."

"Angle of attack," she answered. "When the angle of attack decreases and you can overcome autorotation."

"Exactly right, almost verbatim right out of the handbook," he smiled. "Those are the three biggest words in flight school, love, angle of attack. Always remember exactly what they mean."

"The angle between the wings and airflow," she said immediately. "Which determines the lift the wings generate."

"How do we alter our angle of attack without changing our direction or airspeed?"

She thought a second. "Flaps?"

"Very good!" he said with a big smile. "You've been studying hard, I see," he said happily.

"Of course I have," she winked in reply.

He let her invert the plane at ten thousand feet, and she found out that it wasn't as easy as just turning the plane back over. She found out that it took both stick and rudder to keep the plane stable and flying smoothly upside down, and turning the plane back over took more attention. "Now keep that a secret," Kit winked at her. "It's technically against flight regulations to perform aerobatic maneuvers in a utility class plane. We just broke the law."

"Oh no, let's run for Mexico!" she giggled, turning the plane south and opening up the throttle.

He stalled the plane three more times, and on the third time, he let Jessie try to recover after she asked for a chance to try. It was a flat stall with little yaw spin, a very easy stall from which to recover, and to his utter delight, she was able to recover control of the plane after about five seconds. When she pulled the nose up smoothly, he gave her a big kiss. "Outstanding, pretty kitty!" he beamed.

He let her fly around for over an hour, then he took control once they got close enough to the airport to have to start interacting with air traffic control. She watched carefully and listened as he interacted with traffic control, and she helped perform their landing checklist. He landed smoothly, and then let Jessie take over the taxi once he was off the runway, let her taxi them back to the Avia hangar. "Remember, this plane steers using differential braking," he told her. "It will turn very sharply, but it's always going to want to go in a straight line if you increase power while turning, and that'll increase your turn radius. So never increase power during a turn."

"Got it," she nodded as she turned along a bend in the taxiway.

Kit was quite impressed with Jessie when he took over to put the plane back in their parking place. He was amazed that she got them out of that stall so smoothly, given she had so little time behind the controls. And he knew that she was intelligent, and that she had a quick mind, but she was amazing him with how much she was retaining from her self-study of the flight school books.

Kit was absolutely positive that she would get her pilot's license in about three weeks in Kansas. With their own plane, she could practice what she was learning in the books, which just reinforced it. They'd give her a pretest when she arrived, and find out they'd have to teach her very little in a classroom, freeing up plenty of time to do the flying. She'd walk into that flight school literally already knowing how to fly. She'd just have to study for her written test and the oral exam given during the check ride, do her required flying hours, then do her check ride. She'd walk into that place already knowing how to fly a plane. All she'd need would be the formalities.

"Tomorrow, we're going to a little airfield called Lakeview that's northwest of Austin," he told her. "And there, you're going to learn how to take off, land, and do touch and go's."

"Why there?"

"Because it's a small private airfield with no tower, a nice long paved runway, and there will be very little traffic," he answered. "Think of it as going to a mall's parking lot early on Sunday morning to learn how to drive. You'll have plenty of space and few distractions."

"Okay," she nodded. "I'll make sure to go back to those sections and study them tonight. And I think that software they sent me has interactive programs that teach it."

She did just that, too. Kit talked to Clancy on the phone after they got home, and he put Jessie on the phone so he could thank her for the scones, while she was reading her books and also using her interactive software to learn all about the mechanics of taking off and landing. Kit was steeling himself for it; it was always a bumpy time for any new pilot, and the shocks on his plane's landing gear were going to be sorely tested.

Sheila opened the door without knocking. "Hey cousin," she called.

"Yeah?" he asked, pausing from the interactive quiz he was taking on his laptop about the avionics system in the CJ series jets.

"You got a minute? I need some help with something."

He paused the quiz and went out with her, going to her car. The trunk of her Mustang was tied down, with a box hanging out of it. "What did you buy?" he asked.

"My TV died on my last night, I have no idea why," she answered. "Can you help me carry it to my place?"

"Sure," he said. She'd bought a large flat-screen TV, looked like 40 inches at least, and the two of them carried it from her car.

"Has Terry been calling you?" she asked.

"Not really, why?"

"He's been calling me every freakin' day," she complained. "He's really trying to get Ally's number."

"I told him to leave that alone, that she'd call him when she's ready," he grunted.

"Well, he's not listening very well. So, what did you think of Kendall Brighton?"

Kit chuckled. "I like him," he said honestly.

"Yeah, he seems nice," she answered. "I met him last month when I went up for the weekend to see Mom, and bring back more of my stuff. I can't wait for them to finish the apartments," she said. "As soon as we move in, I'll be able to have my stuff shipped down."

"Any word from U.T.?"

She nodded as they turned down the sidewalk leading to her building. "They said I'll have to pay out of state tuition for the fall semester, but I'll qualify for in-state tuition in the spring."

"So they accepted you?"

"I'm transferring from Harvard, cousin," she winked. "They sure as hell didn't say no."

"Well, that's one less thing for you to worry about. How's Allison been? I haven't seen her since the party."

"She's doing fine. She's got finals coming up, and she has to take her oral Master's test, so she's been shut up in her house studying."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Kit mused. "We'll have to throw her a party when she graduates. Well, you will. Me and Jessie will be in Kansas."

"Pft, we'll come up to Kansas the weekend after she graduates and party there."

"We'll be busy, cousin. These schools aren't five days a week. We'll be going every day, even Saturdays and Sundays. On the weekends, I can buy time in their flight simulators that counts as logged hours, and I intend to do just that. I have six weeks, and I'm going to make good use of every single day. I'm also gonna start work on my flight instructor's certificate, so I can teach Jessie and not have to pay someone else to do it."

"Wooo, could you teach me?"

"Only if you're serious about it," he said adamantly as they reached her door, which was already open. They carried it into her living room, which had cherrywood-colored furniture. "Flying isn't a game you can play whenever you want, Sheila. If you don't take it seriously, you'll kill yourself and whoever is in the plane with you when you finally crash. Go ask Jessie how much she has to learn, she's already started studying for her license. It takes real dedication, because there is absolutely no way you can fake the final test. It's an oral test combined with a check flight where you do everything and the test-giver watches while he asks you questions."

"Yeah, well, I still think I'd like it."

"If you really want to learn to fly, I suggest you enroll in a flight school, because they know what they're doing. There's a very good one at Bergstrom, AIAA. They're professionals, and you won't have to worry about buying flight time since you can afford to rent planes. Just be ready to pay. Getting a license will cost you about ten thousand or so, but every new rating you want will cost you more."

"That's why you're getting that instructor thing," she noted. "So you don't have to pay to get Jessie those extra licenses."

"Yes, that's what I said not a minute ago," he teased.

He helped her take the TV out of the box and put it up on her TV stand. "There ya go," he told her. "I'm gonna head back home."

"Thanks cousin," Sheila said, bending down to hook up the TV to her cable box and DVD player. "I got it from here."


The Perry issue went out on Friday at 44 pages, which made it larger than usual, but Kit was more interested in Monday. He was sure that the magazine was going to turn the corner this week, because there was a big picture of Governor Perry on the cover, him sitting behind his desk with the caption Gov. Rick Perry Speaks His Mind, with Barry's interview and article as the main story. Kit kept a close eye on the Circle K down by Bergstrom, since they were selling the magazine, checking it both morning and evening as he and Jessie went to the airport and back.

The days were spent in training Jessie. She had learned all the aspects of moving the plane around on the ground, and he had taken her up and let her fly, so moving on to the more complex flight operations was the next logical step. Their first lesson in taking off and landing was predictably rocky, and his poor plane got some hard bangs that Wednesday. But that was part of the learning process, and they had practiced it again Thursday afternoon, which helped Jessie turn the corner. She could take off very well, that was actually easy, it was landing that she needed to practice. Saturday was spent teaching her the various aspects of in-flight maneuvers she had to know, ascents and descents, turning in climbs and descents, slow flying, throttled flying, high altitude and low altitude, ground-reference maneuvers like turning while holding a set altitude and distance from a landmark, and that afternoon a crosswind at Lakeview gave them the chance to practice takeoffs and landings in crosswind situations. Most of what they did were things she hadn't studied yet, since she was busy learning the flight regulations right now, but he wanted to give her an early idea of what kind of maneuvers she would have to know how to perform to get her license.

Monday, all of Rick's fears were allayed—at least this week—and Kit's faith was justified. They just got to the black side of breaking even. It was certainly no staggering profit, but they managed to pay everyone's salary that week.

That entered a pattern for Kit that lasted the entire month. He would have a meeting every morning with Rick, then call Clancy every morning at ten to keep up with him. He kept busy with a constant influx of more and more research, since he was researching for himself, Barry, Lilly, Marty, and even Denise, which kept him on the fine edge of overexertion almost every day. Afternoons were devoted to their coming trip to Kansas, which he looked forward to more and more every day, counting the days to May 5 as much as he was counting the days to September 30, which was when Jessie was supposed to deliver. Kit systematically went through all the work that Cessna sent him, memorizing all their manuals and using their software to master the avionics and cockpit configurations they used in their jets, used the testing software they sent him to quiz himself every day. Jessie kept pace, splitting her time between preparing for her finals—she only had to take two actual tests, her other classes were an end of semester paper or project—and studying for her pilot's license. Every afternoon they went up in the plane for at least an hour, giving Jessie time to get comfortable behind the controls and get proficient in the actual maneuvers she had to know how to perform.

Every Friday, they sent out more magazines, to more locations, continuing what Rick considered to be a frighteningly aggressive expansion policy, but Kit was insistent… and he was paying for it. Kit used up the entire Vulpan stock dividend, and had even dipped into their crisis fund money, but he wanted a certain threshold of units before he left for Kansas, where they'd level off and allow sales to increase nice and consistently for the six weeks he'd be in Kansas. He was sure Rick would continue expanding while Kit was in Kansas, but not as aggressively as Kit would.

Every Monday, he saw figures that kept him optimistic. They were either slightly in the red or just barely breaking even each week, but they weren't far in the red, and their sales numbers continued to steadily increase. That was what Kit wanted to see, and that was what kept him consistently optimistic. There was a market out there for the magazine, it was just going to take a little time for the readers to find the magazine. Until then, until it really took off, they just had to keep pushing it, keep cranking out quality issues.

The expectation of what was coming, both for them and for Jessie's pregnancy, just made the time fly by. Kit noticed her baby bump for the very first time late in April, one nice sunny Monday morning as he held her after waking up, putting his paw on her belly and feeling a very slight yet significant thickening of her usually slim, taut belly. He gasped and felt her stomach with both paws, then laughed. "It's about time!" he proclaimed, kissing her on the ear.

"What?" she asked sleepily.

"My son is starting to make himself noticed!" he proclaimed.

"My daughter should know better than to make me fat before it's time," she countered. "But we'll know for sure in about four hours, and you'll be in for me for a month's worth of foot massages and pedicures!"

Kit looked at the countdown calendar, and kissed her again. "Twenty weeks and six days to go, pretty kitty."

It was just one change in her body. Over the last few weeks, her breasts had grown in size, which Doctor Mac had said was entirely normal, gaining a cup size, which forced her to buy new bras, and she went ahead and bought maternity clothes while she was at it. She'd outgrown her morning sickness, and was now eating more consistently and had suffered a few episodes of craving. Her stomach had not started to thicken fast enough for Doctor Mac, and had dragged her in for a full medical checkup last week, a checkup that showed that their baby was quite healthy, the problem was that Jessie's uterus had not filled with the normal amount of amniotic fluid yet, which was one of the contributing factors to the baby bump. Doctor Mac changed her vitamin intake levels a bit, and it seemed to have done the trick. Kit had noticed a definite thickening around her waist over the last couple of weeks, but it hadn't been a thickening out from her belly, more of a settling in around her sides, as is her waist was preparing to carry the extra weight. But now there was definitely a little bump there, only noticeable by touch, and even then only because he knew her body so well.

"From here out, I get fat," she sighed. "But it'll be worth it."

"You'll never be fat, you silly kitty," he told her, kissing her on her neck. "I keep telling you, you'll be pregnant. And I'll love you more and more every day, because I'll see you carrying our baby inside you, and I'll love you for it."

"We'll see how much you love me when I'm waddling around."

He laughed. "I will break you of this delusion, you silly femme," he told her.

"What delusion?"

"That I'm only with you because of your body," he teased. "Your body is a perk, not the fundamental basis of our relationship."

"A perk? I'm a perk?" she asked, rolling on her side and looking up at him.

"Yes, it's one of the unwritten bonuses I got out of this deal," he grinned. "The chance to make love to the sexiest beast in Austin every day, who will continue to be the sexiest beast in Austin, even after she's well into her third trimester." He brazenly fondled her breast. "And since these have grown, it's been interesting," he grinned naughtily at her. "That's a part of you where I'm finding there's more to love."

She smiled slightly. "What, they weren't big enough for you before?"

"They were perfect before, but now I get to experience the whole 'too much to grab in one paw' deal. It's been an interesting challenge," he winked.

She laughed, then wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down into a kiss. "What do you want for breakfast?" she asked.

"Aat, the doctor said no food until the ultrasound, and liquids only up to three hours before," he reminded her. "So how about a nice glass of orange juice?"

"I want eggs," she sighed. "I'm hungry."

"Four more hours, and I'll take you out for pizza," he promised.

"Pizza," she snorted.

"Pizza in Galveston," he grinned.

"Ohh, that's okay then!" she said brightly.

Jessie had a doctor's appointment at noon, which meant that she would miss school today. She had already arranged for the absence, getting all her assignments done and getting the notes she would need. Her finals started next week, and both the classes in which she would take a final held class on Monday. He supervised her glass of orange juice, making sure she drank it, then they settled in for the three hour wait where she couldn't eat, drink or urinate by getting involved in studying. Jessie was studying for a final while Kit was studying the flight manual for a Citation X, which Cessna had sent to him about two weeks ago along with software for it. Twice, Kit had to stop her from going to the bathroom, but when she couldn't hold it any longer, he warned her not to completely empty her bladder.

They were at the doctor's office right on time, and Doctor Mac was literally waiting for them. Kit, as usual, was present when they went to the ultrasound, and Jessie laughed and shivered when they smeared what looked like Vaseline into the fur all over her lower belly. "I'm going to need a shower after this," she laughed.

"Most femmes eat fast food on the way home to wash the jelly out of their fur," Doctor Mac smiled in return as her assistant, a short, slightly plump dog with tan fur, finished applying the jelly to Jessie's stomach. Doctor Mac took the ultrasound probe, which looked like a paddle, then applied it to Jessie's belly. Jessie and Kit watched in fascination as Doctor Mac explained what they were seeing on a display on the device. "There's the head, right there, and nicely developed," she said, pointing out a head-like feature. "Well, that's one for Kit's column," she laughed. "Your baby has a fox's muzzle. See how it's long, like his? Since both of you have triangular ears, that won't really be a fight. A well developed body, your baby's development is right on track, almost textbook. Ah, and now we know," she said as the baby seemed to move on the grainy monitor. "So, what was the bet?"

They both laughed. "A month of foot massages and weekly pedicures against a month of doing dishes," Jessie answered.

"Well, Kit, I'm sorry to tell you this, but you'd better learn how to apply nail polish," she grinned. "Congratulations, it's a girl."

"Ha!" Jessie said triumphantly, pointing at Kit. "I told you it was a girl!"

"I demand a do-over!" Kit called strongly.

"You can have your do-over after our daughter is born," Jessie told him.

"But, maybe he's just not well endowed," Kit protested. "Look again!"

"Are you that hot for a boy?" Doctor MacNair asked.

"I just want to get out of painting her toe claws," he grinned.

"No chance now!" she laughed. "You made a bet, you lost a bet, you own up to that bet!" She held up her foot and wiggled her toes. "You're going to really get to know these for the next month, baby!" she proclaimed.

But still, now they knew. A daughter. He was going to have a little girl, and at least they knew so far that she was going to have Kit's muzzle. He gave Jessie an impulsive kiss, and held her paw. "We'd better look into pink bedding," he smiled. "And I'd better talk to your dad about learning how to shoot a gun so I can keep the boys away from her."

Jessie laughed. "Don't be like my mom!"

"It's a simple matter of statistics," he said. "Her grandmother is beautiful, her mother is beautiful, so she's going to be beautiful. I need to take precautions now, before the boys start following her around panting."

Jessie's cheeks ruffled, and she laughed shyly. "Well, I've done enough skeet shooting with Dad, handsome fox, I'll show you how it's done," she smiled.

After Jessie was cleaned up with alcohol pads, and she got the chance to finally empty her bladder, they went on to the rest of the exam. The doctor took blood and did a couple of tests that she said were checking the baby for some common conditions that were detectable early. Afterward, she sent Kit and Jessie out to get something to eat, and had them return about two hours later. They sat in Doctor MacNair's office while she wrote on a prescription pad. "I'm writing out the name of a prenatal supplement I want you to start taking, Jessie," she explained as she wrote it out. "You can find it in the vitamin aisle of any drugstore. You'll take one a day. Just add it to your current vitamin regimen."

"What kind of vitamin is it?"

"It's an iron supplement," she answered. "The bloodwork is showing you're a bit low in iron, hon, so we need to get that back in balance."

"I thought I was already taking one."

"You are as part of a mutivitamin, but you're like many young femmes who need even more iron than usual," she answered. "Young femmes have a high demand for iron from their own bodies, and when you add on the baby's needs, it can create an iron deficiency. So, you need to increase your iron intake."

"Oh, okay. How about the baby? Did the tests show anything?"

"They showed your baby is absolutely and perfectly healthy," she smiled. "No defects, no abnormalities, no indicators that the baby might have a condition. So, you can cross birth defects and Down Syndrome off the list of possible problems."

"That's a relief," Jessie said with a smile.

"That's a Vulpan in there, she'd better not have any problems. She's part of a clearly superior bloodline," Kit said loftily, but his smile betrayed his true position.

"I'll show you a superior bloodline when I get you home," Jessie teased. "After I cut a few furrows into your arm!"

Kit laughed and patted her on the shoulder. "See the abuse I endure? She's such a meanie," he teased.

"Yes, and I'm sure you do everything you can in order to be abused," she remarked in a deadpan voice.

"Oh, does he," Jessie sighed. "He's an immature brat, but despite that, I love him anyway."

"God I hope so, since that's my daughter in your belly," he said lightly.

After the exam, Jessie called Vil to give her the good news as they drove to the airport, then, after they filled up the plane's gas tank, they taxied out. Jessie was again in the pilot's seat, and she was the one who taxied the plane out of the hangar. Kit was technically breaking the law letting her control the plane, but they'd never really catch them since she did such a good job of it. All that practice at Lakeview let her taxi the plane like a pro. She taxied them out to the runway, but Kit was the one that actually handled the takeoff. Once they were up, he let her take over, making her plan her course using the Garmin's flight management system, search for any dangerous weather along their path, and calculate how long it would take to get there and how much gas they'd use during the trip at the cruising speed and altitude she chose to use for the flight. Once she had all that done, he started bombarding her with questions about flight regulations, weather conditions, and questions about the plane itself. She had to know the plane, be able to answer questions about the plane, for it was their plane in which she would fly to get her license. Kit had already arranged that through Cessna. She would do her required hours in her own plane, and do her check ride in her own plane, and only after she got her private license would she fly another plane, when she started flying a twin engine Cessna supplied by the school to get her complex and multi-engine ratings. Jessie answered every question he threw at her almost immediately, and she missed very, very few of them. He ran the gambit, from icing conditions to the rules of traffic collision avoidance to stalls to low speed turns to air traffic control procedures to the difference between VFR and IFR. He kept pelting questions at her as she lined them up for their approach to Scholes International Airport, but let Kit take over when they got close because the airport had a control tower, and Jessie was still learning the exact procedures about landing at airports where there was traffic control. He had her bring up the profile of the airport on her laptop from the FAA airport database program they had on their laptops, which had a diagram layout of every airport in North America, which told him where to go once he was on the runway. She guided him off the runway and along taxi ramps to a parking area near the terminal for short term parking. "Now you get to partake in the age old tradition, pretty kitty. Tying down the plane," he chuckled.

"But we're only gonna be here like four hours! We don't have to tie it down!"

"We don't have to tie it down," he agreed, "but I'd rather not come back and find our plane on its back because a wind gust caught the wings and flipped her over. It takes ten minutes to tie her down, and that's much better than taking a bus home," he winked at her.

They indeed went out for pizza. Kit rented a car there at the airport and they drove around until they found a pizza parlor, one right on the beach, and they watched the sun set behind them as they ate Chicago deep dish pizza at an outdoor round glass and iron table with a striped umbrella. "So, are you ready for finals?" he asked.

"I will be," she answered confidently, taking Kit's broadband connect card Rick gave him for his birthday and connecting it to her laptop.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure Professor Coffee got my assignment, he said he'd email me," she answered. "I love this broadband thing, handsome fox. It's awesome!"

"I'm sure we'll get some use out of it," he chuckled. "In one week."

"I know. Excited?"

"God, you know it," he laughed. "I just hope I'm ready."

"Love, you can name every control in a Citation and point to where it's supposed to be," she laughed. "I just hope I'm ready. I want to get as much done there as I can."

"We have six weeks."

"Well, that's just a floating number, love, based on how much time it's supposed to take you to finish," she told him. "If you finish early, then I don't have as much time."

Kit snorted. "We have six weeks," he said. "That's what Rick's giving us, that's how much we're taking. If I finish in two weeks, then I'll just beg Vil to pay for me to rate in another jet. The main thing we'll need time for is you, pretty kitty. You have to log hours in the plane to qualify for your license. Log official hours, anyway," he chuckled. "They don't know that you could literally get in the plane right now and fly it home by yourself. You know enough to do it, and you certainly know how to take off and land," he smiled.

"You made me practice enough!" she accused.

"So, the time is for you. If you can finish your private in three weeks, you'll have enough time for them to rate you on multi and complex and get your high altitude authorization. Then you can log hours back here at home while I get my flight instructor certificates, then I can officially train you on IFR and your commercial rating."

"And jets."

"Well, I could get rated to train on a jet type, but I kinda don't have a jet here to train you on," he laughed. "We'll have to go to a flight school for that."

"Well, when we earn our millions, we can buy our own jet, and then you can teach me to fly it," she smiled.

"I guess I could at that," he chuckled, nodding in agreement. "I just hope I can find the time, it's gonna be really busy at the magazine when we get back. Rick plans to expand again after I get home. He's going to slow expansion while I'm in Kansas and let our circulation solidify, and also build up a little reserve capital, then we're gonna hire four new workers. We're hiring an artist to assist Jeffrey, two research assistants to help me, and another writer."

"You're hiring two?"

He nodded. "Rick wants me to branch out even more from research, so his plan is to let me run the research department and let the assistants handle the smaller jobs, and leave the really important research projects to me. That will free up some of my time for other duties, like writing or just goofing off."

"Well, you are part owner," she winked.

"He wants to train me completely in editing," he nodded. "Rick said he wants me capable of running every aspect of the magazine so he can go on a vacation," he chuckled. "He certainly deserves one. It took him breaking his leg to get a few days off. He's worked without a vacation since he started the magazine."

"I think as soon as we get back from Kansas, we need to send Rick and Martha on a trip. Can we afford sending them to Hawaii?" she asked.

"Yes, we can," he said, smiling broadly. "I think that's a wonderful idea, pretty kitty. I'll have to dip into our crisis fund, but I'd say that's a fully justifiable expense. I'll call Vil and see if she can wrangle us a deal on a flight and a hotel room, and we'll pay for it. Let's make it a surprise." He snapped his fingers. "Let's make it a double surprise!" he said, grabbing his phone and speed-dialing Vil.

"Hey bro," she greeted. "What's up?"

"Vil, can you do me a favor?" he asked.

"Sure, what is it?"

"I'd like you to find out how much it would cost to send Rick and Martha and Jessie's parents to Hawaii for a week, the week after we get back from Kansas," he told her. "Rick deserves a special gift for being so kind to me, so me and Jessie have decided to buy him a trip to Hawaii to show our gratitude. And since Rick and Martha like Jessie's folks so much, let's just send them too. That way they can enjoy a holiday together."

"Bro, I think that's a marvelous idea!" Vil said brightly as Jessie absolutely beamed at him. "I'll pay for it, because I know you've been sinking all your money into the magazine. You can pay me back later," she said quickly, to cut him off.

"I think I can agree to that," he answered, then looked to Jessie. "Vil said yes," he told her.

"Good!" Jessie said with a clap, "and thank you for thinking of my folks, handsome fox!"

"Now this is going to be a surprise, Vil," Kit warned. "I want to spring this on them when we get back from Kansas. But Savid will need to know, so he can quietly make preparations to take over editing the week Rick's gone."

"I'll make sure he never sees it coming," she laughed. "It's a good thing that John isn't teaching summer school this year, or this would never work."

"Good. Thanks a ton, sis, you're wonderful."

"Oh, by the way, me and Kendall are going to fly over to Kansas to see you while you're there," she told him. "I'm not sure what weekend it will be, but there will be a visit."

"We'll be happy to see you. Is everything all arranged for Kansas?"

"Yup. I have your hotel suite reserved, I have two cars rented for you while you're there, and I've basically swept everyone out of your way. You'll have complete run of the place, bro, the instructors are at your beck and call, and the flight simulator is literally there whenever you want to use it. Cessna agreed to give you complete priority, even to the point of kicking other students out of it if you want to use it."

"Well, you didn't have to go that far," Kit laughed. "How about Jessie?"

"The same thing. She'll have two full-time instructors training her in as much as they can teach her in six weeks. They're confident that if she's studied the material they sent her, she'll get her license and her multi-engine ratings at a bare minimum."

"Good, that's what I want her to get," he said. "I might be calling you while I'm there to beg," he laughed.

"Oh? Beg for what?" she asked impishly.

"If I finish my training before the six weeks is up, I might beg you to buy me another rating," he laughed. "I want to stay the entire six weeks, so my pretty kitty can log as many hours as she can. That'll give her a head start when she goes for her instrument rating and commercial license. If I finish early, I'll have nothing to do."

"Bro, you basically own that place for six weeks," she told him simply. "If you finish early and want to train on a different jet, you just let me know, and I'll make it happen. I'm glad I finally found something I can spoil you with," she teased.

He laughed ruefully. "I can't argue there. My towering morals seem to evaporate when it comes to learning to fly jets. I guess I can't deny my boyhood dream."

"Well, we'll bring the little boy out in you yet," she teased. "I gotta go, bro, I'm up to my ears in tax reports here."

"Still?"

"We already filed, I'm examining the reports now," she told him.

"Ah. Well, have fun with that."

"Hush, you," she chuckled. "Let me say bye to Jessie."

"Sure thing. Hold on, and I love ya, sis."

"I love you too, bro."

Kit gave Jessie the phone, and finished his pizza as he felt excitement well up in him. In one week, they'd be on the way to Kansas. Kit would be learning to fly jets, and Jessie would be getting her pilot's license on a fast track. Then, after six weeks of training on jets during the day and doing his research assignments at night, he'd return to Austin and send Rick on a well-deserved trip to Hawaii. He was scheduled to be out of the cast by then, so he'd have a wonderful time, and finally get to take a nice rest.

And what was most important of all, he was going to have a baby girl. A daughter. All at once, the wonder and responsibility of being a dad washed over him, and he felt more devoted than ever to Jessie and their marriage. Finding out their child was a girl made it seem much more real, much more imminent. It was a concrete fact, and that made it all feel much closer. Now they could prepare for the baby knowing what they'd want for her, and that feeling would make it feel that much more real to him.

He just hoped he would be a good father, a much better father than his own father had been… but then again, just about any male could be a better father than his had been.

He would prove to himself that he was a better male than his father. He would be the best dad he could be, supportive, loving, and nurturing. He would teach her, try to give her what wisdom he could, be there to hold her paw when she needed it, but let her go when it was time for her to try things on her own. He wanted his daughter to grow up healthy, happy, and want for nothing. He wanted her to grow up responsible and intelligent, not be like his cousins, to understand her position and be conscientious and dependable.

He knew she would be a beautiful little girl. He just hoped that he could help her be just as beautiful inside as she would be outside… just like her wonderful mother.

Chapter 27