Chapter 19

Returning home restored a sense of normalcy, despite their marriage.

They'd lived together for months before their marriage, so living together, for them, was nothing new. They were used to it, and coming home was just a return to the routine, a return to real life after a nearly surrealistic wedding, honeymoon, and Christmas visit with Jessie's family.

Poor Hannah. Vil had blindsided her with her gifts, and she had basically been backed into a corner…or would have been had Vil not bought her a van. Hannah, it turned out, had secretly wanted a new van, was about to broach the subject with John, and Vil went and surprised her with a brand new minivan.

It wasn't entirely back to normal, though. For one, there were a ton of gifts, still wrapped and waiting, sitting on their table from the reception when they arrived that afternoon. Rick and Lupe had brought them to their house and there they sat, gifts from the reception guests, and a few that looked to have been dropped off afterward. "I totally forgot about those!" Jessie laughed as they came into the house after picking up their keys from Lupe.

"Oh, God, I hope we have room for all this stuff," Kit realized. "The Christmas gifts will be here tomorrow."

Vil had brought all their gifts to Cincinnati, but certainly wasn't about to leave them there without a plan. Though Kit and Jessie flew home commercially–Vil was on a tight schedule and couldn't detour to drop them off, and the other jet was being used by a member of the board–Vil had a professional shipping company show up the day after Christmas, pack up all of Kit and Jessie's gifts, and ship them to Texas next day shipping. They would be there at exactly nine o'clock tomorrow morning, six boxes filled with clothes, electronics, jewelry, music CDs, DVD, two new laptops, a desktop, and other assorted trinkets. Some of it had come with them, though, like the furniture gift certificates from Wentmoore's, an upscale furniture store in Austin which they would be quite happy to use. All of their furniture was mismatched and the vast majority of it was used.

For another, there was the knowledge already eating at him that he'd have to return to Boston sometime late next month for the trial. He wasn't looking forward to the idea of that, but he did want to be there when Cybil realized that they knew, and defeat creeped into her eyes. He wanted to see that moment. In that respect, he was a full-blooded Vulpan. He wanted to be there to taste the blood, maybe sink his fangs into Cybil himself.

God, Rick was going to murder him for asking for more time off. He was starting to feel like he really didn't work there anymore.

As Jessie went to the bathroom, Kit rooted through her purse, digging for the true prize out of this entire affair. He found it just as she came out, leaning against the hallway. "Looking for something special?" she asked teasingly.

"Very special," he said, holding up the memory card. "Priorities are priorities."

"Kit! Take it off the internet before you upload!" she commanded as he rushed by her, towards the den. "And delete them off the computer when you're done! Straight to a DVD we hide! And one copy only!"

"One copy of what, babe?" Lupe asked from the open door.

"Our wedding pictures," she said, her cheeks ruffling. "The kind you don't show to others."

Lupe laughed. "Babe, taking pics like that is a necessity on a honeymoon," he smiled. "Sheila come back with ya?"

"She'll be back tomorrow," she answered. "She went to Boston with Vil to see her mother, and then she'll be back down here."

"Ah. Hope everything goes okay with her. So, how was Christmas?"

"Pretty good," she answered. "Well, come in, silly! Just stay away from the hallway!"

Lupe laughed as he stepped in. "Better close the door to the den so I don't see nothin' by accident either," he grinned. "Need help with anythin'?"

"Nah, I think we got it, but thanks for the offer."

"What's your food plans? There ain't much in your fridge, I had to toss some stuff."

"Takeout," she laughed.

"I'll go in if it's pizza," he offered.

"Deal," she said immediately. "Pizza Hut?"

"Better than Domino's. Pony up, I'll go get it. It takes that Pizza Hut dick way too long to deliver here."

"Get something–"

"Without mushrooms, I know," he grinned as she handed him a twenty dollar bill. "I'll get you a no-mushroom special and me and Kit a couple of supremes, 'kay?"

"Sounds good to me!" Kit called from the den.

"Hey brah, I'm trying to steal your wife!"

"Try harder, I don't hear any gunshots!"

Lupe laughed. "I'll be back in a shake babe, and you can show me your honeymoon pics."

"In your dreams, Lupe!" she called as he hurried out.

Kit came out holding up a DVD, with the pictures on it. "This is it," he smiled at her. "You in all your naked glory."

"And you," she pointed out, then she gave him a sly smile. "Put it where we can look at it when we want to, but nobody can find it," she winked.

"Bedroom closet, in the document box," he grinned.

"And remember, keep it off the computers! DVD only!" she called as he took the DVD to the bedroom. "I don't wanna log on some day and find my naked pictures on some porn site!"

"I knew being married would suck all the joy out of life," Kit said loud enough for her to hear. He expected to hear her run in to whack him, but she didn't. He put the DVD away, but when he turned around, she nearly scared him out of his fur by grabbing him and throwing him onto the bed.

"What was that I heard?" she said loudly, climbing on top of him. "I can oblige you, baby!"

Kit laughed. "Was that a threat or an invitation?" he asked.

"You figure it out," she said, slapping him on the snout like a misbehaving child.

"Wow, you think I'll choose the punishment over the reward?" he laughed.

"Then motivate me," she said, leaning down and kissing him.

"Mmm, Jess, Lupe is coming back," he said against her lips.

"Then I guess you're getting the punishment," she said with a teasing smile, deliberately picking up a pillow.

"Nooooo," he laughed, covering his head with his arms as she started whacking him with it.

Kit was punished for a good minute until she relented, dropped the pillow, and pried his arms apart to kiss him on the nose. "There, you bad boy, all nice and punished," she teased as he put his arms around her. "Now behave."

"But then we can't kiss and make up," he chuckled.

"You'd get more than kisses if you didn't misbehave," she winked.

"Oh, sure, now you tell me that," he retorted, which made her laugh. "Let's get our clothes back in the dresser while we have a chance, you know Lupe's gonna be talkative tonight."

It was a welcome return to routine…almost. Lupe returned with pizza, and they ate, told him about their trip, then decided to open the presents. Most of the presents were what they'd expect from furs giving gifts to newlyweds…small appliances, silverware, china, knick-knacks, small denomination gift certificates and gift cards for various stores around town, and so on…presents for them to set up their new home. Even though they'd lived together a while and everyone knew it, most of their friends also knew that all their things were mismatched and used, so the new dishes and silverware and such were very much welcomed. There were a couple of stand-out presents, though. The Governor or Texas gave them a little porcelain replica of the state capitol building signed by him and all the members of the state congress, which Kit rather fancied. They were also given a curious little picture frame with an LCD monitor in it, into which they could download various photos that would display a chosen photo all the time, or slowly cycle through multiple pictures like a little picture show. Jessie was taken with it, and immediately downloaded quite a few pictures of their wedding into it and put it on top of the TV.

Lupe hung out with them for a couple of hours, then left them to wind down and settle in after their long trip. Jessie ran to the grocery store to restock on their badly needed groceries, and Kit called around and told everyone that they were home now and everything was fine. After Jessie got home, they just sat on the couch and vegged out by watching the news on TV, then watching the DVD of their wedding again as they cuddled.

"Well, now what?" Jessie giggled as the DVD ended.

"Well, we could put in a movie."

"No, now what? Isn't this supposed to be, well, different now that we're married?"

"Heck no," Kit chuckled. "The only difference between before and after is now we have more jewelry."

"Well, and the fact that I'm Misses Vulpan now," she smiled, reaching over and patting his muzzle.

"I could get used to calling you that."

"I could get used to hearing it."

"Just don't expect me to call you that all the time. It's way too formal considering we have an informal relationship."

"Informal? Just how is our relationship informal?" she demanded.

"Well, a formal relationship is what you'd have with your boss. I don't want to think of you as a boss," he grinned.

"I am your boss, buster," she teased, poking him in the chest with a clawed finger.

"Oh, God, I'm sleeping with the boss," he realized, which made her laugh. "You better hope I don't have you brought up on sexual harassment charges."

"Oh, I can stop that," she smiled.

"And how do you think you will?"

"Simple, love. If you turn your back on it, you never get it again."

"Ooh, the heavy artillery eh? I can always just go find some bimbo somewhere," he said flippantly.

"Kit. Love."

"Yes?"

"Remember when you vowed to stay with me til death do we part?"

"Yeah."

"Don't make me exercise that clause of our contract."

Kit laughed. "Duly noted," he said, putting his arms around her and kissing her. "My little barbarian."

"Vulpans play for keeps. I'm just learning from you."

"Well, I'm more than happy to give you more lessons," he said, running his paw up her side.

"Mmm, teach away, my love."


Kit and Jessie had two days off before he had to go back to work, and they needed it. When the Christmas presents arrived the next morning, they simply stowed them in the bedroom with the wedding presents, because they had furniture to get. They had to bow out of poker that day because they were too busy, had way too much to do, and the guys understood. They'd just gotten back from their honeymoon, after all, and they all knew about the big pile of gifts sitting on their table. They understood that the pair had a lot of work to do to go through them and write thank-you cards, but they did promise to drop by and at least say hello to everyone.

They went to Wentmoores with nearly five thousand dollars in gift certificates, and they used almost all of it. They got a proper dining room set with a china closet to hold the china set they got as a gift, they bought a pair of recliner chairs, corner closet for knick-knacks, coffee table, a stand for the little capitol building that the Governor gave them, and a wide entertainment center-shelf combination that would take up the entire wall. It consisted of an eight foot long lower flat cabinet with two covered shelves all the way across its length, filled with doors, and two small shelves that rose from both ends. The gap in the middle was large enough to hold the new large TVs, up to a sixty inch LCD of plasma panel TV, and was also raised on a small shelf unit that would hold a DVD player and cable converter box.

After measuring it, they found it would just barely fit against the wall where they had their current TV, framing the window, the shelves of one end just a mere nine inches from the door. Kit wasn't sure he liked the idea of it being that close to the door, but Jessie adored it, saying that the shelves would give them plenty of room to display stuff…and Kit just couldn't deny Jessie what she wanted.

The gift certificates also resulted in their first fight. After finding a bedroom suit that matched the bed, Jessie wanted to look at furniture for the den, but Kit was looking at TVs. Jessie didn't think they needed a new TV, because they already had a pretty decent one, but Kit saw that if they kept the TV they had now, which was a tube TV, they'd have to pull the shelf out to accommodate its bulk…that shelf wasn't designed to hold a tube TV, it was designed to hold a flat panel TV. Jessie didn't want to listen to that, however. "We only have a thousand dollars left, and we're not wasting it on a TV!" she said adamantly. "Not when we can buy two desks and a shelf unit for the den, so we can use both our computers and have someplace to store our other tech stuff!"

"Jessie, this isn't about the TV," he protested.

"Oh yes it is," she flared. "You got used to that TV in Vil's condo and the one we have in the basement, and now you want a big one too! We can look at TVs after we get what we need."

Kit learned an important lesson about Jessie…that Hannah hadn't been joking. Jessie was incredibly stubborn. She made her decision, dug in her heels, and she wasn't about to budge an inch on the matter. Even when assaulted with the logic of his argument, that their TV would not fit on the new entertainment center, she wouldn't listen. "Fine," he sighed after he grew tired of arguing with her. "But I'll expect an apology when we get the furniture home."

They bought the two new desks shelf unit, and a bookshelf for the den, as Jessie wanted. They went home literally following the truck holding their furniture, then were basically pushed into the corner as the delivery males brought in and assembled their furniture, then carried the old furniture out onto the porch as they requested. The sorority furniture was going back to the sorority, and they were donating the rest of it to Lupe to store and use as needed.

When the entertainment center was assembled and placed where Jessie wanted it, Kit just stepped back when the large raccoon came up. "Ma'am, it won't work there," he said. "Your old TV is too wide, the unit wasn't exactly built to hold one. We can put it there, it'll fit, but we can't keep the shelf flush against the wall. We'll have to pull the shelf out from the wall more."

Jessie gave him a surprised look, then sighed and put her paw over her face. "Alright, I apologize," she said in a low tone. "Just put the shelf against the wall, please. We'll move the TV back to our bedroom for now."

"Yes ma'am," he said with a nod and returned to his partner.

"Don't you say a word," she grated, pointing with her finger nearly touching his nose.

"I don't think I have to," he replied calmly. "How much is left on the certificates?"

"We used them all," she answered. "They gave us a gift card with the balance, but it's not even a hundred dollars."

"We can just pull the shelf out."

"No, I'm the one who wouldn't listen, so now I get to live with it," she sighed. "We'll just put the TV on that rolling stand and put it in the bedroom. It's not like we really watch much TV anyway. How's the bank account?"

"Pretty much well empty," he said. "We cleaned it out buying Christmas presents. We'll have to wait until payday to look at TVs."

"You'd think someone would have given us one," she complained.

"That's a pretty expensive gift," Kit noted.

After all the furniture was in place, they spent the rest of the day settling it in and catching up. They put away their clothes in the new dressers, Jessie loaded the new shelves with the knick-knacks she most fancied from their wedding presents, and Kit put the ceramic capitol building on the little table he'd bought just for it. He took a picture of it and sent it to Mike out of pride. They then went over to Lupe's and said hi to the poker crew, but they saw that Christmas had depleted the usuals to just Lupe, Dan, Mickey, Sam, and Jeffrey. Sandy was at home for the holidays, and Kevin had his big first case and couldn't make it today because he was doing research and preparing his case. Mickey gave them a bottle of wine as a welcome home gift, and they returned home to continue settling in the new furniture. Sam came over after poker, and her being in Austin surprised Kit. He would have thought she'd go home for the Christmas holidays after the wedding like Sandy had, and he was partially right. She had stayed in Austin because of the wedding, then went home for Christmas, but had come back yesterday to settle in before the next semester that began in two weeks. That seemed a bit thin to Kit, and when he asked if Kevin had called, the ruffling of her cheeks told him everything he needed to know. She came back because of him, not because she wanted to get an early start settling in.

"He's been busy with his first case, though," Kit heard Sam complain to Jessie as she started cooking dinner. "We talk on the phone, but he hasn't had time to go out with me."

"Stop thinking like a teenager, Sam!" Jessie admonished. "Do you know how much I enjoy just being in the same room with Kit, even when we're not doing anything? Ask him if you can come over and just hang out!"

"But, he might think that's too forward," she complained. "Or that it's an invitation to go to bed with me!"

"Well, does the idea of that bother you?" she asked directly.

Kit heard a long silence from the kitchen. "Uh…no," she finally answered. "You know I'm not a virgin, JD. But it's…well…different with him."

"How so?"

"Well, I don't want him to think I'm cheap or easy," she explained. "He might not respect me."

"So," Jessie said with a laugh. "That's where it is."

"This isn't funny!" she complained. "I could handle Mitch and the other boys because there weren't any expectations out of it. We were just enjoying each other's company. But Kevin–"

"Kevin is potential husband material," she finished for her. "So you're playing by the bride's rules, eh?"

"I guess so. I don't want to blow it. I'm not lucky like you, JD. You found the male you were meant to marry. I think I love Kevin, but it's not the same with us."

"Kit didn't fall into my lap, Sam. I had to work for him," Jessie contested. "So do you. And the first thing you need to do is show Kevin you want to be with him. So call him. Ask him if you can come over and just hang out with him while he does his work. Offer to cook him dinner, since he's probably too busy to do it himself. Promise him you won't interfere, you just want to be with him. And if he thinks it's some kind of invitation, disabuse him quickly," she giggled. "Establish your interest but make it clear that he has to work to get you in bed."

"I don't know if that'll work," she complained. "Kevin's a lot different from Kit."

"Not as different as you think," she replied. "Trust me."

"So if this idea of yours goes down in flames, I can blame you?"

Jessie laughed. "I guess you can."

Kit heard Sam call Kevin and admit that she was a little lonely, and would like to come to his apartment to cook him dinner so he could keep working on his lawsuit. Kevin must have agreed, because Sam was borrowing Jessie's car and on her way to Pflugerville before Kit realized that Sam had hung up the phone. "She took your car?" Kit asked curiously. "How did she get over here for poker?"

"She walked, Kit. It's not that far, only about two miles. To Sam, that's well inside walking distance. She runs five miles a day, a two mile walk is nothing for her."

"Oh."

Sam didn't bring Jessie's car back that night. She returned it in the morning, almost waking them up in the process. Kit was making tea in a pair of shorts while Jessie showered when she rang the doorbell, and he turned off the alarm and opened it for her. "Morning," he said as he ushered her in. "How was it?"

"How was what?" she asked with an edge to her voice.

"Bringing Jessie her car back the morning after?" he asked lightly.

"And walk home after dark? No," she said calmly. "I'm wearing different clothes, if you didn't notice," she added, pointing at her U.T. tee shirt and running shorts. "I'm about to go running."

"You run without shoes?" Kit asked absently.

"I only wear shoes with dresses, so the males can't see my tomboy feet," she chuckled picking up a foot and showing him the bottom. The pads on her feet were thick, tough, and rugged, the feet of a fur who ran five miles a day without running shoes.

Kit laughed. "Well, I like the natural femme," he told her. "Want some tea?"

"Sure."

Kit made her a cup of tea as she looked around at the new furniture. "Snazzy," she said. "Where's the TV?"

Kit laughed. "It's in the bedroom, it won't fit on that shelf. And don't mention it to Jessie. We had a little argument over it."

"She lost?"

"That's why you don't mention it to her," he said as he put the tea on the dining room table for her.

Jessie came out into the living room wrapped in a towel. "Sam?"

"Hey JD."

"How did it go last night?"

"Pretty well. I made Kev some dinner and didn't poison us thanks to your cooking lessons," she laughed. "I just read while he did his work, then we watched a little TV, then I came home."

"What's his apartment like?"

"Well, it's pre-furnished, so it wasn't like I could get a sense of his style, but he is an art buff. He collects paintings and has a few sculptures in his apartment. He like impressionism for paintings, but prefers Roman and Greek era sculpture. He has a tiny replica of that famous statue of the woman with no arms sitting on a table in his living room."

"I'm disappointed in you," Kit told her as Jessie went to dry off and dress.

"What? Why?"

"You were in his house and didn't short sheet his bed? Shame on you."

Sam laughed.


Sheila was back, but to his surprise, she wasn't preparing to return home. They talked the morning before his first day back to work, while working out at the Y, riding stationary bikes. Jessie had been feeding him so much, since she had all that free time to cook, that he'd been gaining too much weight, and so he'd begun to work out in the mornings with Sheila before work, taking advantage of the membership to the Y she'd set up for him. "I've already missed the next semester, and well, I kinda owe it to Rick and Martha to stick around until he can replace me," she explained as they rode stationary bikes side by side at the Y one morning the week after they got back. "I'm going to hang down here until Rick has that deal in place with the college's journalism school and he has an intern. I'll be back home this summer, and back in Harvard for fall."

"And staying where it's warmer than Boston has nothing to do with it?" he asked.

Sheila laughed. "Well, that does make me wanna stay a little," she admitted with a wink. "Among other things."

"Like what?"

"I like it here, cousin," she admitted. "I like having you as a friend, and I like Lupe and Dan and Mickey. I love Jessie like a sister, and her friends are awesome. I don't mind working at the magazine, and the guys there are great, and they take me seriously. I feel, well, accepted down here. Rick and Martha look out for me, Martha and Jessie are teaching me to cook, I get to hang out with you and the sorority girls when I want to have fun, and I get to torment Lupe when I'm feeling mean."

"Well, it's nice to know you approve of my life," he chuckled.

"I'm glad I came down here," she told him, "and not just because of Cybil. I didn't really do anything at home, Kit. I just walked through school, went to parties, and screwed a ton of guys. Well, that part wasn't that bad," she noted, licking her chops in a manner that made him laugh. "I ran away down here, but I found something more than just a place to hide, ya know? I found out that work can be cool if you're working in the right place. I found out that I actually love cooking, and now I want to open a restaurant when I get out of school. And you taught me that I don't have to be what the family expects...not that they really expect much out of us youngers. I don't have to get married to who they say and crank out babies the way my mom did. I can go start my own business, find something I like to do, ya know, do something with my life."

"Well, it sounds like Sheila Vance Vulpan has grown up quite a bit," Kit noted.

"Bite my ass," she said directly, then she laughed and pushed at his shoulder.

"If I did that, Jessie would kill both of us," Kit pointed out. "Me for straying, and you for seducing your own cousin."

"Kit."

"Yah?"

"We have got to take her to the Top Hat."

Kit almost fell off the bike. "Are you nuts? Take Jessie there? She'd have some kind of seizure!"

"She's married now, cousin, think of it as expanding her horizons. She has to be a freakin' prude in bed. We gotta make her worldly."

Kit laughed. "She's worldly enough already. She doesn't need any outside help."

"What, she knows two whole positions? I'll bet she doesn't go down on you or anything fun at all," she pressed, which seemed to attract some unwelcome attention, since they weren't alone in the exercise room and Sheila wasn't exactly keeping her voice down.

"I don't think this is the place for a conversation like this, Sheila," he said in a low tone.

Sheila looked around, then chuckled ruefully. "True. But at least you haven't been turned into a total prude," she grinned. "Still willing to talk sex with your cousin, that's a good sign. Hannah didn't turn you to the dark side."

Kit laughed. "And how did your own campaign of turning to the dark side go?"

"I got him," she grinned wickedly. "Remember when Ben went to go answer the phone?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see me anywhere?"

Kit laughed. "Damn, femme, that was fast work. He was only gone like fifteen minutes. We thought he was talking on the phone."

"He was, to me," she winked. "I called and asked for him to separate him from the rest of you."

"And so you did exactly what I warned you not to do."

"I didn't screw him, cousin," she laughed. "Though I'd love to. But I did get one hell of a kiss out of him and got my paws on that monster he keeps in his pants. He's a great kisser," she purred victoriously. "And he's got a huge–"

"I don't need to know that."

She laughed. "I was considerate, too. It didn't take much coaxing to get him to put those big paws on me," she giggled. "I could have those paws on me every day for the rest of my life. His touch was…magical," she said with a little sigh.

"All I can say is be very, very careful," he said calmly. "I'm not your mom, and I'm not going to tell you what to do. But if you chase Ben, you're going to be climbing a tree full of beehives. If you're not very careful, you'll be stung before you reach the top. And you might take me with you when you fall out of the tree, since I'm climbing it too."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, Sheila. You're exactly the kind of girl Hannah has worked to keep her daughters from becoming. You're wild, you're loose, and you're wanton. Hannah sees you as a girl she needs to tame, to set back on the right and narrow. Hannah already doesn't like me, well, she'll have a fit when she finds out you're starting to court Ben. So what you do will affect my relationship with Jessie's family."

"Hmm," she noted, stopping her pedaling and leaning over the handle bars. "So, you won't interfere?"

"If you poison my relationship with Hannah, I'll kick your ass. But outside of that, no. You're a grown femme, and it's not my place to tell you what to do."

"Duly noted, cousin," she said calmly, then she started pedaling again.

Kit wasn't too worried about it, really. Sheila would find out that Hannah wasn't her main opponent if she went after Ben, it would be Ben himself. Ben was too down to earth, modest, and grounded to take a girl like Sheila seriously. He might be curious about her, play with her a little, might even go out with her and sleep with her, but he wouldn't get too involved with her, because he'd see the trap in her and avoid getting too attached to a femme that wasn't attached to him. He knew what kind of femme she was, and he'd keep his distance. Sheila would discover that a male like Ben wouldn't accept her the way she was, and if she wanted Ben, she'd have to change to get him.

It would be educational for her, that's for sure.

Kit called Hannah and warned her about the development while Sheila was with Rick on a trip to an advertiser. "You're serious," she said after he told her.

"She seems to be," he answered. "Sheila's never looked a male the way she's looking at Ben before. She's never seen males as anything but the next night of fun, but she's looking at Ben like a possible boyfriend. It must be shaking up her world," he chuckled.

"We can't let that happen, Kit. I don't want Ben mixed up with her."

"Hannah, you raised Ben to be prudent and proper. Just let him deal with her. He'll do the right thing."

"My children seem to have very poor judgment when it comes to your family," she said directly, which made him laugh.

"Well, maybe they see things in us you don't," he teased.

"Maybe I see what they refuse to," she countered.

"Well, Jessie's seen a lot more of me than you, I'd have to debate that point with you."

There was a startled silence, then she laughed. "Kitstrom, don't you dare start getting so familiar with me. I'm your mother-in-law!"

"And that's why I'm allowed to get familiar. If I can't talk about these kinds of things with the only mother I have, who can I?"

"Sweet talk will not get you out of this."

"You're too far away to threaten me with a pillow, so I'm not too worried about it," he said flippantly.

But getting beyond the reach of Hannah Williams wasn't quite that easy. When he went home and sat down to look over a little work he brought home with him, he was hit in the back of the head with a pillow. He covered his head with his paws, but another strike didn't appear. "What did I do?" he demanded as Jessie walked back towards the bedroom.

"Don't ever think you're out of Mom's reach," she called back. "She can have you beaten by proxy."

Kit almost fell over laughing.


Life settled back into routine for them. When school began again, Jessie was back on a schedule, and a better one than last semester. She had five classes this semester instead of six, three on Monday and Wednesday, and two on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Her earliest class was ten o'clock, and her latest class was her Tuesday/Thursday contemporary American literature class, which let out at five thirty. With the return of school came the return of the sorority girls and Sandy, and again there was almost always someone visiting them in the evenings, be it a friend from the complex or one of Jessie's sorority sisters or someone from work. Sheila came over to hang out about every other night.

Work quickly settled back down as well. They started their election articles, and Kit found himself writing more and more when he had no research to do. Rick had him doing small articles about the elections, working off his own research to do background articles upon which Barry built with his main articles. Marty tagged him and the others to do a new section of the mailbag, where they answered a question sent in by email or letter. Two questions were answered every issue, and Marty promised in the new section, called Ask Away, that questions would be picked at random, and wouldn't be edited beyond the need to keep them in decent taste.

And he meant it. Kit ended up being one of the two tagged for the first answer, and Marty made him answer the question what was it like to grow up rich?

That turned into a two column article, because Kit answered it honestly and without much sugar coating, making it plain that being rich wasn't as carefree for kids as he thought it might be. He made it clear that every perk he got from money was balanced by an expectation placed upon him a normal child wouldn't have. That there was a hidden price tag that came with having money.

Kit had told Rick and the gang about the lawsuit and his need to go to testify, and they were alright with it. "Nothin' we can do about that, son," Rick told him. "You gotta do what you gotta do. We'll be fine as long as they don't hold you for like two weeks."

"Oh no, Rick, I'll make sure that doesn't happen. I'll fly back and forth every day if I have to, and you can just email me some of my work. I can do it from there. I'm not gonna burden you guys again so soon after the honeymoon."

"Well, we can work something out. And I think Barry was talking about flying up to cover some of it. Since we've been keeping the readers up to date on your personal life, with the marriage and all, Barry did a piece on the lawsuit too…and now folks are curious to see how it turns out for you."

Kit laughed. "I spend years avoiding tabloids, and my own job tabloids me!"

"A good story is a good story, and this is a magazine, Kit," he chuckled.

But there was change coming, too. The first hint of it was the construction fence that went up beside the apartment complex. Lupe was so happy he could barely sit still when the construction company showed up and began demolishing the closed dentist's office. "They say two months, brah," he said as Lupe, Jessie, Sheila, and Mickey were standing by the building closest to it, looking out behind the building and at the new fence. That building was the one behind the one that had Kit and Jessie's apartment, so they were fairly close to where the new pool was going. "It'll take them two weeks to tear down the building and pull the foundation, then they dig the pool. The pool should be totally done and ready by April no sweat. The contractor said he'll have it done by late March, but I won't open it til late April."

"How much will it cost to put in?" Kit asked.

"Not as much as you'd think, but our insurance went up," he grunted. "I done sent out the rent increase notices, but nobody bitched. Seems they agree that an extra ten a month is worth it to get a kickass new pool. And it'll be kickass!" he all but screamed. "Olympic size, brah! With a high dive and a slide of the kids!"

"Any word on the other project?" Mickey asked.

"It's a go," he said. "I made a deal with the last two families to buy them out. One of them's just gonna move into the complex," he laughed. "I had to promise them one of the four bedroom luxury units with a secured lease in exchange for them selling. They stay there til they decide to move out. It was worth it, though, cause they'll be paying rent like everyone else, just not as much. They bargained me down to half their current mortgage, but again, that's cool. I just added six more of those luxury units to the plans, so we'll have plenty."

"I hope they don't make a lot of noise," Jessie said hesitantly.

"They'll do a little bangin', babe, no help for it, but they won't be working after six, so they won't bother nobody at night," Lupe answered. "They'll be workin' ten to six, six days a week."

"That's not too bad," Mickey said. "Then again, I'm not living right behind the construction site, either."

"Come on, I'll show you the plans for the new Westwood," he offered. "They're in my office."

Lupe certainly had a grand vision. He had both drawings and an artist's conception of the new mega-complex, that would take up the entire city block. Lupe had bought out every other house and building on the block, and the apartment complex was going to expand both down the block and across it. "The pool will be the center of the place," Lupe said as he pointed to it on the drafting sketches. "This big building right here is the gym and community center. I'm gonna have a gym and a couple of big rooms for dances and shit like that, and I'll have pool tables and some other good shit in it. I'm gonna have a big playground right here, and this right here'll be a daycare center for the tenants that got little kids." He pointed to a series of smaller buildings in a cluster around the pool and community center. "These are the luxury units. See, they got their own parking, and they're right by the pool and center. This is where we'll all live," he grinned. "They'll go from one to four bedrooms, with the four bedrooms being a double-duplex style with no stackin'. Each side of this is its own place, kinda like townhouses, two-story with a deck. Out to the corner will be mixed units, from one to three bedrooms, to cover the furs already livin' here so they can move in when it's done. But the rest of the complex'll be a little more organized by unit size. Each of the buildings in the units built after the initial build'll be separated by size. One buildin'll be nothing but one bedrooms, another two bedrooms, and so on.

"After we get this corner here built and I can move our current tenants over, we tear down the rest of the block and get going. They say they'll finish in a year."

"A year? That's it?" Kit asked in surprise.

"Brah, I'm gonna have a freakin' army here buildin' this place," he answered. "The banks demanded it be up in a year from groundbreakin', so they covered the cost of hiring enough to do it in the loan. When it's done, we'll have four hundred units, from one bedroom efficiencies to the twelve luxury four bedrooms. Most of 'em will be one bedrooms for the college crowd, but those'll be on the far side of the complex from the two and three bedrooms, so I keep the families safe from the college brats," he said, giving Jessie a grin.

"Watch it, this kitty has claws," she teased, showing him her small claws. "And ain't afraid of a little puppy dog."

Lupe laughed.

Things moved at work as well. Two days after they started on the pool, Rick called them all into the main office, a big grin on his patchwork face. "We got new digs," he announced.

"Eh?" Marty asked.

"A new office," he said. "In the Willis Building."

"Dude, that's like two blocks from the capitol!" Mike gasped.

"Vilenne helped us out," he said. "Called in a favor. We got office space three times this size on the sixth floor, at the same rent we're paying on this office. It used to be a lobbying agency, but it closed down. It's perfect for us, guys. It has a large central room where they used to have calling zombies in cubicles. We'll clear that out and form a new main office, but this time everyone has an office of their own too. It has twelve offices on both sides of the main room, and the main room has a bank of windows that looks out over Congress. Oh, and Marty, you're off the phones," he said. "You're being moved to staff, I'll hire a receptionist just to do that."

"I love promotions!" the sheep grinned.

"When do we move?" Savid asked.

"We start tomorrow. When the building owners found out I signed a lease for another office, they terminated our lease here, probably out of spite. We have until the end of the month to clear out, so we have to move quick. Remember all that gear you guys took home? Well, we need it back now," he chuckled. "We need to put a temporary network up over there to help us transition while we move. Mike, we're going back over there so you can check it out. They had a computer network, and while the computers are all gone, the wiring is still there. They gave me a wiring plan for you to go on, but we need to go look and see if this is something you wanna tackle on your own, or if we bring in a networking company to install the network for you."

"Let some stupid snotty kids touch my network? Hell no!" Mike said immediately. "If I do it, it gets done right."

"Dude, you are one of those snotty kids," Jeffrey laughed.

"Bite me, mouse," Mike grunted. "Kit, Savid, you need to come too. I may need some help pulling floor or checking in the ceiling, and you two are trustworthy enough."

Kit, Savid, Mike, and Rick went over to the new building after lunch. It was a glass building, new and modern, and the offices that still had Woolbanks Lobbyists signs and logos up were deserted. The furniture and equipment were gone, and it was as Rick described. A large central office where cubicles were built dominated the middle of a huge room, with rows of doors on either side leading to private offices. The office took up an entire half of the building, allowing the offices on both sides to have windows, with the two offices at the ends being corner offices. Mike had a wiring diagram in a technical manual before him as they surveyed the place. "They had a server room right here, behind this wall behind the receptionist's desk, forming a big room that separates the front receiving area from the main office," he said, pointing at the drawing. "I'll use it for the same, and it's big enough for me to stack some racks in there and make a real damn network and website. I can put my office in there, I have to be near the rigs. It has no window, which is perfect for a geek like me. This big corner office is Rick's office, naturally. That leaves one other corner office. Guess they'll fight over that one."

"Nah, Savid has seniority, it's his," Rick said.

"Many thanks, Rick," Savid said with a nod.

"We'll put Lilly, Barry, and Kit in these offices here on your side, Rick, and Jeffrey and Marty on Savid's side. That leaves five open offices, since I'll put my office in the server room."

"Let's stagger them. Leave this office open so we have a hard storage room, and put Kit and Barry on each side of it. They'll be the ones digging through those records. Leave this office here open between Savid and Jeffrey that we can turn into a dedicated office for the graphic artists, you know, for their shared computers, which we can also use for the big printer to keep it out of the main office. We turn this office here into a break room with a fridge and microwave and a table. We can hang the big plasma right there," he said, pointing at the wall facing the bank of windows. "The building maintenance people will be here tonight to clear all these cubicle desks out. We keep a few of them, put the main table right here in the middle, and put some desks over in those areas for equipment. I want to put in a couple of open workstations for anyone to use when they come out into the main office, and we'll need a desk for our intern."

"We can stick Sheila in a spare office until she leaves. Since she's Kit's cousin, we can be nice to her and just treat the next intern like shit," Mike grinned.

"No, put her at a desk right there," Kit said, pointing towards the windows. "Halfway between Rick and Savid. They're the ones she'll be dealing with the most, that way she can't hide from them when they need her. That also puts her in the main office and completely visible to anyone who sticks his head out the door looking for her."

"True, true, I think that's a plan," Rick nodded. "There is one thing, though. Jessie does work for us, and we have empty offices, so I'm going to give her one."

"Better keep it on the far side from Kit, so we don't walk in on some workplace shenanigans," Mike grinned.

"That would not stop them," Savid said, which made everyone laugh.

"Jessie would love it, Rick."

"Alright then, she'll take the office beside yours. So, what do you think?"

"I think it's perfect," Mike said. "Not too big, but we have room to grow. It has the same intimate sense as the old office, but it's big enough for everyone to feel like they have their own space."

"Yes, just so. Having my own office will be nice," Savid said with a nod.

"It'll be nice to be in an office bigger than my armspan," Kit chuckled.

"Hey, you have an office," Savid told him. "And you are the youngest there!"

"Well, that little fight will be moot in a couple of weeks," Rick chuckled. "Lemme go get the building manager so we can talk this over, and I can see how much of this old stuff the last tenants is going and what we can keep."

"Let's make sure their network cabling is where this says it should be," Mike said. "Sometimes they like to move it and not document it."

They returned to the office with big grins. "We can start moving tonight," Mike announced. "I'll begin moving over the non-essential equipment after work. Everyone's offices are already assigned, so you can start moving stuff you want into them. I'll draw up a plan for us to do it, but we'll spread it across an issue no matter what."

"Well, if we know the issue's gonna be affected by the move, let's do it on purpose," Jeffrey noted.

"Huh?"

"We warn everyone we're moving in the next issue, and then the issue after we make it a mess. Bad editing, typos, you know, make it look bad on purpose. I think the readers would get the joke."

Rick laughed. "I think that would be fun to do," he nodded.


It was hard work, but it was worth it.

Over the course of the next two weeks, the magazine moved to its new office. Mike worked his butt off, first establishing the new network, then moving machines over bit by bit. Rick had to buy some new furniture, and as it was delivered, they moved in. It was a little weird there for a while, with half of them in one office and half in the other, but they worked through it.

Poor Sheila. Mike worked her to the bone, and that poor girl must have made five hundred trips between the offices moving boxes.

It was very hurried, but it worked. Mike ruled them for those two weeks, keeping careful track of everything. He used the backup servers to take over as he moved the main servers first, established the core of the network, then started adding things piece by piece. Vil's laptops were critical during the move, allowing them to literally use them for the entire transition issue outside of the main editing computer, which was moved first as soon as the servers were up and a new round table was delivered and set up.

Kit, oddly enough, was the first to move over. His office was generally in the way when Mike had to pull cabling, so Kit had to be out of the space between the servers and the main office. He moved over to the office two days after they began, with a brand new desk and chair and a nice set of shelves on one side of the office. His came with only his box of personal stuff, which he set up in his office as he put his laptop on his desk and took the plastic off the chair. Mike delivered his computer the next day and they set it up. "Remember, keep all the stuff for the next issue on your laptop," Mike told him. "The network over here's not fully ready to go yet, not til I get all the other machines over here and set up and then update the main servers with everything they're doing over there."

"Got it."

With Kit anchoring the new office, the others began to move over, one by one. Barry moved over next, and then Lilly. After Lilly came over, the next morning Kit showed up at the office with Jessie in tow, as she moved some little things into her own office–that she'd rarely use–just so it felt like her own place, and found a young, petite little female ferret standing outside the locked doors. She couldn't have been five feet tall, thin, almost scrawny, wearing a black blouse and a gray pleated skirt. "Are you Kit Vulpan?" she asked. Though she was small, her voice was rich and quite lovely.

"I am, who are you?"

"Denise Jacobs," she told him. "I'm the new receptionist. Rick hired me yesterday. He told me to be here at nine o'clock and you'd let me in and show me my desk."

"Uh, sure. My wife, Jessie," he said, introducing her.

"I read about your wedding in the magazine. You're really lucky," she said with a shy smile.

"Thank you," Jessie said as Kit unlocked the door, then turned off the alarm. "I hope you're tough, Miss Jacobs. They're mean around here," she said, grinning at Kit.

"We're not mean, we just destroy the weak," he replied flippantly. "But you'd better be able to take a joke, Denise. We're very fond of them around here."

"I can handle it, Mister Vulpan."

"Kit. Nobody calls me that but my wife, and only when I'm in trouble."

That made the diminutive ferret giggle. "It sounds like you hear that name a lot."

"Way too much," Jessie agreed with a sigh, which made her laugh.

Jessie put her things in her office while Kit showed Denise her desk. "Well, this is it," he told her. "As you can see, there's no phone here yet. Our office is kinda a mess right now, we're still in the middle of moving over."

"Rick explained it. He said I'll be helping Sheila move stuff for the next few days."

"Sounds like he filled you in. Looks like Rick got you a chair, at least," he chuckled. "Go ahead and look it over, I'll call Rick and tell him you're here." Kit relayed that information on his work phone, and Jessie came back out and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm on the way to school, love. What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"I don't really care," he answered. "But it sounds like you're cooking."

She giggled. "Yeah, I feel like it tonight. I'll just surprise you."

"Sounds good to me," he said, giving her one more kiss. "Have a good day at school."

"I'll try," she smiled as she went out the door and to the elevator.

"I read about your wedding in the magazine," Denise repeated as she tested the chair, then raised it as high as it would go.

"Are you a student?"

"I wish I was," she sighed. "I just got out of the Army three weeks ago, and kinda stumbled across this job. I'm gonna get some night classes started next semester, though."

"The Army? Really?" he asked in surprise. "What did you do?"

"Administration. I was a paper pusher," she admitted with a laugh. "My last post, I worked for the Army Times as a secretary," she said. "It got me interested in journalism, and now I want to be a reporter. That's why I lucked out getting this job. I'll be working in a magazine!"

"A small and very unusually run magazine, but a magazine," Kit laughed. "We don't do things the way real journalists do, Denise."

"It's still good experience."

"True. You certainly don't look like you were in the Army," he noted, looking at her.

"I know, I'm short," she laughed. "They had trouble finding uniforms that fit me in basic training," she admitted.

"Just don't let them ride you. Mike especially. The first time he tells you a short joke, whack him. If you don't stand your ground, he'll hound you until the end of days."

"Which one is Mike?"

"The raccoon."

"I'll show him what I learned in the Army," she grinned. "I can deal with people who make fun of my height."

"I'm going to like you, Denise," Kit chuckled.

The addition of Denise to the crew helped with the transition. She helped Sheila move stuff the rest of the move, and then, after Rick had the magazine logo removed from the old office and installed behind Denise's desk in the new one, she took her place as their new receptionist. She spent half a day with the phone people learning how the new phone worked, and it was Denise that briefed the rest of the staff about how the phones worked, teaching them what the phone people taught her. Denise got along well with the gang, and was quite capable of dealing with the jokes and pranks. She was a lively femme, chatty and funny, but she was also very brave and level-headed, more than capable of dealing with irate callers. She was a perfect fit.

Their transition issue was very funny. Instead of running a new issue, they instead did a "best of" issue, but they made sure it looked almost amateurish. Editing errors, spelling errors, the page numbers were out of sequence, and one page was printed twice. The only new thing in the issue was a new strip of School Daze where Kit and Jeffrey played on the idea to make Jo-Jo and Oxnard trade personalities, but give no explanation nor reason for it. The issue was so messed up the printer called after Rick sent it in and asked if they'd gotten a corrupted copy of the issue.

Eleven days after their old building terminated their lease, they were done. The old offices were bare, even the network cabling pulled out of it–Mike was leaving them absolutely nothing that wasn't there when the magazine started, not after what they did to them–and they were all now comfortably moved in in the new office. Their network was up and running smoothly, all their computers were up, they were getting used to having their own offices–well, everyone but Mike, Rick, and Kit anyway, and they couldn't get over how much more space they had. Marty felt a little weird being off the front desk, being listed as a staff writer and editor now instead of just an editor, and they had to take a new group photo. Jessie, Sheila and Denise were in the new one, all of them gathered around their new main table with the windows behind them, waving to the camera.

Their first issue in the new office mentioned the move itself, but was right back to business as usual covering Austin for the college crowd. The cover showed a picture Mike took of the office before they moved in side by side with the new group photo, with the caption We're Here! under it. Barry did an article about the move on page three, as well, short and to the point.


Moving sucks!

Lone Star has finished its move, everyone! We were getting a little cramped in our old offices with the addition of Kit, Jessie, and Sheila, so we've moved to larger offices if only so we don't walk in on Lilly naked anymore.

Sure, we could blame the Vulpan clan, but we got new offices out of it, so we're not going to complain all that much.

We've moved a whole five blocks north. We're now in the Willis building, 500 Congress Avenue, on the fifth floor. Our office hours are still the same, and all our internet services are back up and running at full strength, thanks to Mike and his godly computer skills.

But Jeffrey still kicks his ass in Halo. Mike can't handle a console controller.

We've also added another friendly face to the family! Everyone welcome Denise Jacobs. She's a spunky little thing (and we do mean little) who'll be answering our phones and greeting our visitors as she pursues a degree in Journalism, and we destroy any chance she'll ever have of getting a respectable job anywhere in the journalism business. So stop by and say hello and make her feel at home!

And no, she's not a Yankee. We've got enough of those damn Yankees in the office already. Denise is a native Texan, hailing from College Station.

Rest assured, Austin, we're back on the job and as dedicated as ever to bringing you the best Austin has to offer for the students of the University of Texas. We hope you enjoyed last week's moving issue, and promise we'll never do anything like that ever again.

Until the next time we need an emergency filler.


Kit chuckled when he read it, and laughed when Denise did. "Little?" her voice called from the intercom to every phone in the office. "Little, am I? Who told you to write that, Barry? I'll cut them down to my size!"

"We can't be cut down that far!" Mike's voice came over the intercom, which had replaced the shouting that had taken place in the old office.

"Dude, your office is right beside her desk," Jeffrey called over the intercom. "Is that a good idea?"

"I can always lock the–Aii!" he gasped, and they heard him get smacked several times, which made the whole office erupt into laughter.

"Remember to lock the door next time!" they heard her say, but Mike got the last word.

"Oh, my poor kneecaps!"

Yes, Denise fit in perfectly.


The good times couldn't last forever, unfortunately.

Four days after they finished the move, early Saturday morning, Kit got the call he knew was coming but dreaded getting. Vil called him on his personal phone while was typing up some notes from an interview he did with the dean of the college of liberal arts about their new Portuguese language major program. "Hey sis," he called as he put the phone on speaker and set it on his desk. "You get those pics of the new office?"

"Yeah, it looks really great. Spacious?"

"We have empty offices," Kit laughed. "Jessie has her own office now, too. Too bad she only uses it once a day. She's in it right now, doing her writing for Missy and Cutler. Earning that paycheck," he chuckled. "Jessie! Vil's on the phone!" he shouted.

"Be right there," she called over the intercom.

"Well, this isn't a personal call, bro," Vil told him. "Do me a favor and turn on your laptop and jump on video."

"Uh, sure, give me a couple," he said, turning around to the little table behind his desk, under the window, and picking up his laptop. He opened it and waited for it to wake up, then started the videoconferencing program. It connected, and Vil's face appeared. She was in her office, looking down at her own laptop, adjusting the microphone on her face so he could hear her. He hung up the phone as she finished, then he put on his own microphone as she greeted him. "Hear me, bro?"

"Loud and clear," he answered as Jessie bounded into the room. She came around the desk and leaned over his shoulder, then got he muzzle right by the mic.

"Hey Vil!" she said. "You get that email I sent ya?"

"Sure did, Jessie," she answered. "Listen guys, this is business, not personal. It's about the trial."

"Date set?" Kit asked.

She nodded. "It starts February Eleventh. Since Cybil filed the suit, she presents her side first. I want you here starting on February Twelth. It's going to take her lawyers a day to get through opening arguments, so I want you here and in the courtroom from then on, cause I'm not sure when they're gonna nail her ass. So you need to be here and be ready to stay for a while if this gets dragged out."

"How long will we be in Boston?"

"Hopefully no longer than a week. You may be coming back the same day, it may take a week, I really can't tell. It all depends on how Cybil's lawyers present their case, which witnesses they call. As soon as Cybil hangs herself, you sign the legal document holding the current agreement in place, then you go back home. You won't even have to be here when the judge throws out her case and mine moves on unopposed by the family. That makes everyone happy except Cybil."

"I can live with that."

"Clancy asked me to ask you to please come home," she said. "He wants you to stay at Stonebrook."

"Absolutely not," he said immediately. "Not so long as Uncle Zach is in that house. I will not bring Jessie anywhere near him."

"Love, I can't go," Jessie told him. "I have school now, remember?"

"Then I'm really not staying there," he grunted. "I couldn't face staying one night in there without you there with me, love. If you're not going, I won't go anywhere near it."

Vil sighed. "Can we talk about it later?"

"It's not up for negotiation."

She frowned and nodded. "I'll find you a hotel room near the courthouse, then," she told him. "I've already called Rick and told him. He's making arrangements for you to come up. Don't bother making reservations, bro, I'll send the jet for you."

"Alright."

"Don't look so down, bro. You come up for one week, hide in your hotel room, watch Cybil crash and burn, sign some papers, and you're free of us forever."

"Now that's something to look forward to," he said honestly.

"Alright then. I'll let you get back to work then, bro. I'm working now too," she said, motioning at the view behind her. "I'll call you tonight, okay?"

"As long as it's not just business, sure."

"I always have time to rag on my little bro," she winked, then she ended the conference.

"Well, love, it looks like it's almost done," Jessie said, leaning down and kissing him on the top of his muzzle.

"And I'll dance down to the harbor when it is," he sighed, leaning back in his chair, taking the microphone off. He was tense all the sudden, and a little worried. He knew it was coming, but to know it was coming didn't help all that much. Jessie put her paws on his shoulders and massaged them, then reached over him and closed his laptop. "Why don't you ask Rick to finish your article at home," she urged.

"No, no, I'll finish it. I'm done for today when I do," he said. "Go ahead and finish up and go home, I'll be along in a few hours."

"Alright, love."

Jessie pampered him when he did get home, around three, feeding him a nice dinner, then sitting on the couch with him laying with his head in her lap, something that never failed to relax and calm him. There, feeling the warmth of her legs against his face and muzzle, smelling her closeness, feeling her paw tousling his hair, it never failed to make him feel safe, secure, and wanted.


It seemed like a blink of his eyes.

It had only been two weeks from knowing of the trial until he found himself sitting on Vil's private jet, watching the city of Boston appear through the window as he looked from the couch, and the time had blurred by.

The gang was so understanding. They helped him get ready for his trip by helping him clear his desk of all his work, and they gave him a going away party with a banner that read Glad You're Staying Poor! Jessie gave him an extra-special parting gift the night before he left that made his back ache and his knees rubbery the next morning, but he didn't mind a bit. He'd take that kind of attention any day of the week.

At least he didn't feel quite so dreaded about this. This would be it. The last time he saw Boston. After this was done, he'd sign that paper that maintained the current agreement, flip off his family one more time just for the hell of it, then fly home to Austin, to where he belonged, and be rid of them.

"We'll be landing in five minutes, Mister Vulpan," Avery called over the intercom. "If you could secure anything loose and prepare for landing please. There's a car waiting for you to take you to the courthouse, and I'll make sure your bags are sent on to your hotel."

Kit hit the button on the side of the wall. "Thanks, Avery," he called back, then he took his teacup back to the galley and returned to the couch and sat on the forward-facing half.

He was actually looking forward to this now. He was going to watch Cybil hang herself in court, hopefully today, which would be very satisfying, then he'd get the chance to look in the faces of his family and give them everything they wanted, and leave them totally mystified as to why. Why he didn't take the money, why he didn't punish them for their sins against him. But that was the point, a point they'd never understand. He saw that money for what it was, a curse, a blight on a family he hated, and he could not punish them any more than by giving them exactly what they wanted. He would give them their money, and they would continue to believe they were the kings of all creation, continue to be rich, and continue to be miserable and wretched. They wouldn't understand was that the ultimate revenge against them wasn't to punish them, but to leave them in their gilded cage, where they could eat away at each other like starving rats, find nothing in their lives but their love of their money and status. They would die alone, they would die unhappy, and they would die unwanted.

And there was no better revenge than that.

A few of them had escaped that fate. Vil certainly, but Sheila had also come to understand that there was more to life than money. Sure, Sheila couldn't live without her money, but at least she understood that there were some things money couldn't buy, like real friends, or love, or happiness, and she understood how important they were. Kit was better off poor than he'd ever been rich. And though it was fun to be spoiled by Vil a little bit from time to time, to fly in her jet, eat nice food, the truth was, he'd be just as happy if Vil never gave him another thing again, as long as she stayed in his life. Vil was much more important than her money. His sister mattered to him much more than her toys and her wealth.

Family was more important to him than family.

The plane touched down, landing out of a cloudless sky in the early morning. They'd taken off in the darkness of predawn, and they'd literally be going straight to the courthouse. The trial was scheduled to resume at 9:00am, and given that he moved into Eastern time, it was 8:27am now…and from what Vil told him, nobody knew he was going to be there except the uncles and aunts and Vil. Not even the cousins knew he was coming, so his appearance in the courtroom was certain to be significant to Cybil and her lawyers. Kit's split from his family and his hatred of this case was well known, so for him to show up in court was a huge issue. Something had to make him come up from Austin to attend the trial, and Cybil's lawyers would go nuts trying to figure out why.

It was cold in Boston. The hatch let biting air in, and he pulled his coat around him and shivered his tail, almost feeling like he did the day of the funeral, almost a year ago. That day had been dreary, though, but today was bright and sunny. A limo was waiting before him, with one of Vil's bodyguards standing there with his paws folded before him. Kit nodded to Avery as ground crews came to open the cargo hatch and get his luggage, and he shouldered his carry-on and stepped down onto the tarmac on shoeless feet.

If Sam could do it, so could he.

It wasn't that bad, though. He went without shoes almost all the time, so his pads were thick and durable. He could feel a little bit of cold through them, but nothing that would make him dance in place. Now if it was wet or raining or snowing, he'd probably be looking for a shoe store, however….

"Stav or Marcus?" Kit asked as the panther opened the door of the limo for him.

"Marcus," he answered with a smile. "We'll be at the courthouse in about twenty minutes. There's tea and warm bagels inside for you."

"Thanks," he said as he ducked in and settled in the luxurious seat of the limousine. Marcus climbed in with the driver in the front seat, and the ground crews put his suitcases in the trunk, closed it, and waved to the driver that he was clear to go. Kit turned on the small TV in the back and poured a cup of tea for himself, then watched the local news segment on the Today show. The trial was actually on the newscast, the last little sound bite before returning to the network program. "And finally, the Vulpan civil trial continues today," the vixen anchor said, "with the widow of Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan beginning her case to try to claim the Vulpan estate, which is contested by the Vulpan family. Full details at five o'clock."

"Don't they have anything better to do?" Kit complained loudly.

"This is Boston, Mister Vulpan. No," Marcus said from up front, which made Kit chuckle.

The limo jumped briefly onto interstate and then dove down into the new Big Dig, tunnels under Boston that were such a scandal just about everywhere, all new and pristine but costing a ridiculous amount of money. The limo moved against the flow of rush hour traffic, but that was a relative concept downtown, so it moved through crowded roads as it exited into the heart of Boston, and then traversed the distance from the exit to the venerable courthouse in Boston. Reporters and news vans were all over the place around the courthouse, and cameras zoomed in on the limo as it drove by the courthouse, trying to get footage of who was arriving next for the high-profile case. "We're going in through the garage," Marcus told him as they went by the courthouse and turned at the corner, then turned onto the ramp leading to the underground parking garage by the courthouse.

"Thank God," Kit breathed. "Am I the first here or the last?"

"The last," he answered. "Seating in the courtroom is first come first served, so some have literally been camping out on the courthouse steps. But since you're a potential witness, you're guaranteed a seat."

"Lucky me," Kit grunted as the limo came to a stop by an elevator door, just beyond a concrete barricade complete with a metal detector and a security guard, a tall and rather burly fox.

Marcus opened the door for him and walked with him to the guard, who took one look at his eyes and almost dropped his clipboard. "Mister Vulpan sir," he said, almost stammering, motioning him through. "Just ignore the metal detector, sir, go on through please."

"Thank you," he said with a nod as he stepped around the metal detector, followed by Marcus. "Oh, hey, you hungry?" he called back to the guard.

"Sir?"

"I have some bagels in the limo I couldn't eat. All yours if you want 'em, you can split 'em with the limo driver."

"Uh, thank you sir!" he said with a sudden smile. Marcus pressed the elevator button for him, and it opened immediately. He got a smile when he saw the limo driver handing the security guard a bag of bagels.

Marcus led him through quite a few furs on their floor, many of which gave ground to an obvious Vulpan and his bodyguard, staring at him as he passed. Many of them identified him, but then again, his half-missing left ear separated him quite distinctively from the rest of the Vulpan family. Marcus brought him to a large set of open double doors at the end of the hall, the room beyond probably the biggest courtroom in the courthouse, and it was filled nearly to capacity of quietly murmuring furs, the vast majority of which were foxes. Marcus led him to the second row on the right, where Vil and her other bodyguard were sitting right on the aisle. The aunts, uncles, and quite a few cousins were sitting in the rows behind and beside Vil, and they were all looking at him both fearfully and with relief that he was there. "Bro," she smiled, standing up and hugging him, then motioning him to sit beside her, the two panthers flanking them on the padded bench. "How was the flight up?"

"Boring," he said. "I napped through most of it. Where do things stand?"

"Opening statements are done, and Cybil's team has already gone through two witnesses," she answered. "They've established that Dad's actions were unhinged to lay the groundwork for their case. I think they're calling the witness I want them to call today, Basil Hawthorne," she whispered behind her paw to even hide her mouth from the lawyers that were looking at them from the other side of the aisle. "He's Cybil's personal butler who's going to put the nail in the coffin concerning Dad's obsession with you by testifying from the inside, you know, since he was there right up to the end. He's the one I want to get crossed."

"What if they don't call him?"

"Then we will. He's already on the witness list, so they can't object if we call him."

"Ah."

He looked past Vil and saw someone across the courtroom looking at him. The sharp muzzle and red hair, done perfectly, revealed that it was none other than Cybil Whitmore Vulpan, daughter of Earl Chester Whitmore. She gave Kit a strange, curious look, then her brows furrowed and she leaned forward to talk to her lawyers. The lawyers looked at him, whispered to her, then nodded.

The bailiff called the court to order, and the judge entered. He was an elderly fox, his red fur almost white, wearing wire rimmed glasses. He seated himself with an absent nod, then banged his gavel. "Court is in session. Mister Strahan, call your first witness."

A fox on the far side stood up. "We call Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan the Third," he said in a loud voice.

Kit started, the entire courtroom gasped, then he glared at Vil with unholy murder in his eyes. "You said I wouldn't be called!" he hissed.

"I didn't think she had the guts," Vil mused in a whisper. "Well, go sic her, bro," she said with a sudden grin.

"I will get you for this, sis," he growled as he stood up. The bailiff showed him to the witness stand, and he took the oath. The tall fox approached the stand and squared off in front of him as the bailiff asked him to state his full name for the record. "Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan," he recited, then he was motioned to sit.

"Your honor, permission to treat the witness as hostile?" the lawyer asked.

"I dare say you should," the judge said, which caused a titter from the courtroom. "Granted," he said with a smile, motioning at the lawyer with an aged paw.

Kit was very unhappy, but he also wasn't about to do anything stupid. He answered the lawyer's questions truthfully and honestly, since he asked questions pertaining to Kit's very hostile relationship with his father, and it was testimony that would only help Vil when the time came. The lawyer made him tell the court about his being disowned and the terrible things that happened to him, which everyone knew his father had done after the lawyer produced all kinds of evidence linking every act that Kit could recall to his father. The lawyer seemed to take almost ghoulish delight when he said, "Mister Vulpan, I seem to notice that there's something wrong with your ear. Could you tell us how you lost it?"

Kit gave him a look that could have peeled the enamel off the snarky lawyer's teeth. "I was hit by a car," he answered. "But I'm sure you know that's not the only thing it did," he added bitingly, holding up his scarred left arm. "Here, have a good look," he grated, turning his arm to and fro from the lawyer. "Want me to show you the scars on my back, too? So you can get a nice long look at all my injuries and milk it for everything it's worth?"

"That's enough of that, young male," the judge warned before the lawyer could even look at him.

"As a matter of fact, Mister Vulpan, I think you should show the court your back, so they can fully appreciate the extent of your injuries," the lawyer said with an evil little smile that only Kit could see.

Kit growled in his throat, and stood up aggressively. He took off his suit coat, pulled his shirt out of his pants, turned around, and raised his shirt to reveal the white scars on his lower back.

"Is it correct that you still have screws in your back from the surgeries?" the lawyer asked.

"It is."

"Thank you, sir. Please, return to your seat." Kit did so. "Do you have any lingering effects from the accident?"

"What do you mean?"

"Any residual pain? Stiffness? Physical impediments or limitations?"

"Not really. My back gets sore if I sleep on a bed that's too soft," he answered. "Outside of that, it doesn't bother me that much."

"Isn't it a bit odd that a fox of your means carries such dramatic scars? I mean, sir, you're missing your ear. Surely reconstructive surgery could restore it."

"It could, I guess, but I'm used to it now. Besides, my wife has never seen me any other way. She said I'd look weird if I had a whole ear."

The lawyer's mouth twitched when there were a few chuckles from the spectators. "Why didn't you have your ear repaired immediately after the accident?"

"I couldn't afford it," Kit told him with a steady look. "Look, can you get to the point? I'd like to get this done sometime today. Just ask what you're digging at instead of trying to be Perry Mason."

The audience broke out into laughter, and the lawyer glared at him darkly. Kit glanced at the judge, who actually looked a little amused. "You can move along, Mister Strahan," the judge smiled. "The young male does actually have a valid issue. I'm not sure where you're going with this."

"The point, Mister Vulpan, is that you, a member of one of the richest families in America, couldn't pay your hospital bills," he said intensely. "Would you please tell the court why?"

"I was disowned," he shrugged. "And at the time, I was in college. I was just as poor as any other college student."

"And would you please explain to the court what happened after you were injured?"

"Well, that's a lot of ground. Could you be more specific?"

"Very well," he said, going to his table and picking up a file. "Petitioner's exhibit seventeen, your honor," he said. "The hospital payment records from Boston Mercy General. Who paid for your medical bills, Mister Vulpan?"

"My sister."

"Despite the strict policy of your father to disown anyone caught giving you assistance?"

"Well, after word got out I was hurt, the scandal made him back off," he answered. "God forbid anything stain the Vulpan family reputation like being outed as a heartless bastard."

"Your honor," the lawyer sighed.

The judge chuckled. "Mister Vulpan, try to keep the color commentary to a minimum. Just answer his questions."

"I'm trying, he just doesn't want to hear the whole truth," Kit grunted, "which is what I swore to tell. My father was a heartless bastard. If you don't hear that fact, then my answer isn't the whole truth."

Vil gave him a huge, amused grin, but his uncles looked a little annoyed.

"Sometimes one fox's whole truth is another's conjecture, Mister Vulpan. Try to stick to the facts."

"Yes, sir," Kit sighed with a nod.

"So, you're here to tell the whole truth?" the lawyer asked with a predatory smile. "Even if it hurts your sister's case?"

"I don't particularly care about my sister's case," Kit told him immediately and forcefully. "I have no part of this. I'm being used by my sister just as much as Cybil is trying to use me now, and I don't particularly damn well appreciate it. I walked away from this family years ago. All I want is to be left alone to live my own life, away from Boston, away from the Vulpans, and away from money. Yet no matter how far I go or how far I run, I still can't get away for them, from it, or from you."

"So if Misses Vulpan wins this case?"

"I couldn't care less," Kit growled.

"I find that slightly hard to believe," the lawyer noted. "Given they are your family."

"Would your family do this to you?" Kit snapped, pointing at his ear.

The lawyer just smirked. "No more questions."

He went back to his table and sat down. One of the foxes at the table in front of Vil stood up. "I have only one matter to discuss with you, Mister Vulpan," he said. "Did you experience any other unusual or dangerous incidents after your father died?"

Kit blinked, and nodded. "I was shot. Someone tried to kill me."

"How do you know this, Mister Vulpan?"

"The Austin Police told me. They also told me the guy who shot me was a mob hit fur, and he was trying to fulfill a contract on me."

"So, someone hired him to kill you?"

"Yes."

"How did you survive the attempt?"

"My boss shot and killed the leopard that attacked me," he answered. "If not for him, I'd be dead right now."

"Have the police solved the case and tracked down the fur who hired the hit fur?"

Kit caught the clever wording in the question, and answered it truthfully as it was asked. "No. Not yet."

"Do they have any suspects they've discussed with you?"

"No one solid."

"After you were shot, what was your opinion, Mister Vulpan? Who did you think tried to kill you?"

"Given my family's…position, I believed it was a member of my family."

"Why would a member of your family try to kill you, Mister Vulpan? After all, you were disowned and no threat to anyone, living halfway across the country."

Kit wasn't quite sure what point the lawyer was trying to make, so he just answered the question. "Because of my wife. Well, at the time she wasn't my wife, but my girlfriend. She's a cat."

"And this is a matter worth trying to kill you?"

"In the Vulpan family, yes. It would be," he said honestly, staring directly into Uncle Zach's eyes. "The Vulpans are purists," he announced boldly. "They don't believe in marriage outside the species. When I was shot, I knew they knew about my relationship with Jessica, and there are a few members of my family that are fanatical enough for me to believe would be capable of it."

The lawyer nodded. "Thank you, Mister Vulpan. No more questions."

Kit was a little startled, but the murmur in the courtroom made him understand. Vil wasn't toying with Cybil, she was giving Kit a chance to say that publicly, to finally call down his family over his wife. She gave him the chance to reveal that the Vulpans were purists, which would forever protect him and Jessie from his family even after he gave them back the money. If anything ever happened to him or his wife, then almost every camera in America would turn on the Vulpan family, who were now exposed as fanatical purists whom Kit feared so much that he once believed that one of them tried to kill him because of his relationship with a cat, who was now his wife.

"Redirect?" the judge called.

"No questions," the other lawyer said after standing.

"You may step down, Mister Vulpan," the judge told him.

"You owe me," Vil said in a singsong kind of whisper as he sat down beside her.

"Thanks, sis," he whispered back, patting her knee.

It was poetic justice that the next witness was the one Vil wanted, Basil Hawthorne. He was a small, reedy rabbit, fairly old, and walked with a cane. Kit listened as the lawyer for Cybil painted the picture Kit's testimony laid out, about how his father had tried to bury his son's accident from the press, denied paying his hospital bills, even sought to have the hospital discharge him to a private care facility, whom the rabbit said that Lucas Vulpan confided would kill Kit with a drug overdose. This new tidbit infuriated Kit, but it also wasn't that big of a shock. His father would have seen killing Kit as the ultimate act of control, to decide life and death. The hospital refused that demand, and that refusal saved Kit's life.

Kit was quite curious after Cybil's lawyer sat down, and Vil's lawyer stood. "Mister Hawthorne," he said, taking something out of his briefcase. "Do you recognize this?"

He held out a cell phone.

"Uh, it's a cell phone," he said, not quite sure what to say.

"Yes. Do you recognize it?"

"No sir, I do not."

"So, this cell phone does not belong to your employer, Cybil Whitmore Vulpan?" he asked.

"I can't honestly answer that question, sir. She owns more than one phone. I can't confirm or deny with complete authority."

"Can you testify to Misses Vulpan's cell plan, sir?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You are Misses Vulpan's personal butler, privy to the secrets of the Vulpan family. Does Misses Vulpan have a contract with a cell provider, sir? Or does she use prepaid cell phone services?"

Kit was looking at Cybil. She seemed to start slightly at that question, and glanced at the lawyers sitting at the table in front of her. She leaned forward and whispered to them, and one of them whispered back as the butler answered.

"Why, she has a plan, sir," he answered. "Why would Misses Vulpan use prepaid cell phones? Those are for the destitute," he scoffed.

Vil's lawyer almost beamed. "So, Misses Vulpan would have no earthly business using a prepaid cell phone?"

"No sir," he said in confusion.

"Objection!" Cybil's lawyer called. "Where is this going, your honor?"

"If I may, your honor?" the lawyer said, going back to his table. "Give me a little latitude? I'll make my point momentarily."

"Alright, but don't dally about, counsel."

"Thank you, your honor. Now then, sir, you state that your employer would have no business using a prepaid cell phone. Now, if we examine Respondant's exhibit nine, already introduced, we see the phone logs of the assailant on Mister Vulpan, who was called in Atlanta from an untraceable pre-paid cell phone. Exhibit ten demonstrates that the origin of the call, according to cell tower records, was in Boston."

"Yes?"

"In fact, if we examine the cell tower logs on exhibit eleven, we discover that the call had to come from somewhere in this area," he said as his partner picked up a large posterboard map of the Boston area, pointing to a red circle. "That is the reception area of the cell tower that logged the call. Quite a large area, is it not?"

"Counsel," the judge warned.

"Sorry, your honor. This point here, Mister Hawthorne, is Stonebrook Manor. It appears to fall inside the range of the cell tower that captured the cell call," he noted. "So, is it not theoretically possible that the call that put out the contract on Kitstrom Vulpan could have originated from Stonebrook Manor?" he asked.

Kit saw where he was going now. He looked at Cybil. She was grinning broadly, and then Kit understood that Vil had baited Cybil. Cybil, and many in the audience, were going to remember Kit's testimony and jump to the conclusion that a Vulpan had called out the hit from Stonebrook. But it was Cybil, and Kit's testimony actually helped hide the trap until the lawyer dropped it on the rabbit. It wasn't planned, but Kit's own testimony was the bait that was going to lure Cybil into the cage.

"Uh, yes, sir, it looks possible," the rabbit said, glancing at Cybil, who just smiled at him and nodded slightly.

"Very good. Now, Mister Hawthorne, do you own a prepaid cell phone?"

"Me? No sir, I use a phone provided by Misses Vulpan."

"And the staff at Stonebrook Manor? Do any of them use prepaid cell phones?"

"Not to my knowledge, sir. I can't answer that with complete veracity, however, but I would think not. Why would they when they are provided their own phones?"

"Explain, please, sir."

"The staff members are issued cell phones by the manor that double as two-way radios. Everyone, from the gardeners to the chief of staff, carries such a phone, and they're allowed to use their phones for personal calls."

"So no one on the manor would have a reason to use a prepaid phone?"

"No sir, at least no legal reason," he said.

The lawyer snapped his fingers. "Ah, there's the crux of the argument, sir, no legal reason," he said quickly, reaching for something. The other lawyer picked up a piece of paper and handed it to him. "Your honor, might I introduce a piece of evidence unearthed just recently?" he asked, holding up the paper.

"What is the nature of this evidence, counsel?" the judge asked as the other lawyer took a copy and handed it across the aisle, to the opposing counsel.

"It's a federal wiretapping document. This, your honor, is a certified text transcript of the conversation that arranged the attempt on Mister Vulpan's life, captured by a roving federal wiretap. This affidavit, from Special Agent Brown of the FBI, verifies the validity of this transcript."

Kit was staring at Cybil. Cybil's eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and she leaned forward to hiss angrily at the lawyers at the table before her.

"Why wasn't this turned over sooner, counsel?" the judge asked testily after the bailiff handed it to him. "It's dated over a month ago!"

"We had problems procuring it from the bureau, your honor. They refused to turn it over to us."

"And you can verify that?"

"If you read the affidavit from the agent, your honor, you'll see the difficulties we had in attaining this evidence," he stated. "We received these affidavits late last night."

There was tense silence in the courtroom as the judge read the affidavit. "Alright, counsel, proceed."

"Your honor, I object!" Cybil's attorney called, standing quickly. "It's too late to introduce new evidence now that we're already at trial! They had their chance during discovery!"

"Overruled," the judge said quickly. "This affidavit gives counsel more than enough latitude with wrangling this evidence away from the FBI, given it was attained by a wiretap that looks illegal."

"Then this evidence can't be presented!"

"If this were a criminal trial, you'd be right," the judge noted calmly. "But this is a civil proceeding, counsel. The fact that the government broke its own laws to tap cell phone calls is a moot point in this proceeding. The only matter here is that the evidence presented is viable and truthful. And it is. So overruled. And your exception is noted," he said, holding a paw up when the lawyer was about to say something else.

Cybil had her snout between her lawyers, whispering at them heatedly.

"Mister Hawthorne, would you read the highlighted portion of the transcript?" the lawyer asked.

He took it from the bailiff, and then did so. "No, no, you can't do that," he said, reading in a monotone. "I thought you couldn't take a gun through an airport. Yes I can if I fly a private plane from a local airstrip. I have a license. I'll just put my guns in the trunk and drive over to the airport and fly over in a private plane. Nobody will ever know. Trunk. What is a trunk." His eyes widened slightly, and he looked to Cybil with a startled expression.

"Continue reading please."

"A trunk, you know, where you put things in a car. Like your golf clubs and luggage."

He fell silent.

"Mister Hawthorne?"

"Oh. A boot," he said in a whisper.

"A what, sir?"

"A boot," he said in a louder voice, which caused a storm of whispering.

"What is a boot, sir?"

"It's a car's cargo box, sir," he said, glancing at Cybil. "Where one keeps the spare tire and jack and such."

"Really? I've never heard it called a boot in America before, Mister Hawthorne. Isn't that a British word for a car's trunk?"

Hawthorne was silent a long moment. "Yes," he finally admitted.

And there it was. Cybil looked over towards Kit, and she found multiple sets of Vulpan eyes staring back at her coldly. Kit saw her eyes widen, and then her fur try to ruffle, and then fear crept into her startled expression. She knew. She knew the Vulpans knew. And she knew they had her dead to rights.

She knew she lost. And Kit found tremendous satisfaction in the chagrin that swept over her proud, haughty face.

"Very well, sir, might you explain why the prepaid cell phone that ordered the hit on Mister Vulpan, which could have been used at Stonebrook Manor, is demonstrated here to be used by someone who uses British terminology? Unfortunately we have no audio of this call sir, so we can only go by the words. Mister Hawthorne, how many British people live at Stonebrook?"

"A few," he said quietly. "Misses Vulpan's personal staff."

"And Misses Vulpan herself?"

"Yes," he said, looking down.

"No further questions," the lawyer said simply, turning and walking back to his seat and sitting calmly as his companion stacked a shuffle of papers on the desk and then put them down.

Cybil issued several low commands to her lawyers, and one of them stood up. "Your honor," he began. "We request an adjournment for the day so we can study this new evidence and get in contact with the agent who issued this affidavit."

"Granted. Court is adjourned until nine o'clock tomorrow morning." He banged his gavel, and the pushed his chair back from the bench.

"All rise!" the bailiff called. Everyone did so, and the judge filed out of the room. There was a great deal of hushed whispering, and several furs at the back charged out of the room, most likely reporters to report on the bombshell dropped in the courtroom seconds ago.

Thought the accusation wasn't made directly, the inference was definitely there. A British person had tried to have Kit killed, and the only British people at Stonebrook were Cybil Whitmore Vulpan and her personal staff.

"It's over now," Vil breathed, patting him on the shoulder. "Sign a few papers, bro, and you can go home."

"Gladly," he said as Marcus stepped into the aisle and motioned Kit ahead with his paw. Kit stepped out, but he stopped and stared right at Cybil until she looked at him. Their eyes met, and Kit took his paw out of his pocket, raised it, and quite deliberately flipped her off with cold eyes boring into her. Then he mouthed the words you lose at her, and then turned his back and walked out of the courtroom.

In a private conference room, Kit, Vil, and Uncle Zach sat at a table with Vil's lawyer and two other foxes who stood behind him. "This is an agreement, explained in the presence of two notary publics to serve as witness," he explained, "that mirrors the current standing will of your father, Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan Junior, Kit. This agreement retains the current asset sharing agreement between your family members, dividing your father's fortune and assets up amongst them evenly, except for your sister Vilenne. Instead of money, she receives the stocks that give her ownership and control of Vulpan Shipyards and Vulpan Steel. Included in this document, Mister Vulpan, is a statement that severs you completely from your family interests," he said in a steady voice. "By signing this agreement, you surrender any future attempts to claim your portion of the family assets or inheritance, legally severing you from your family, which means that you can never file a lawsuit or make a claim against your father's estate, except for one point. By agreement between Vilenne and the rest of the family, the property known as Stonebrook Manor will retain your name on the deed as a co-interest. Vilenne will be named primary owner, you will be named co-owner, and Zachary tertiary owner. What this means is upon the death of Vilenne Vulpan, should you remain living, ownership of the manor will revert to you. If both you and Vilenne were to pass away, ownership reverts to Zachary. If all three of you are deceased, it falls to your children in order of their parents on the deed, beginning with Vilenne, then you, then Zachary. Do you understand this?"

"I do," he answered.

"Included in the Stonebrook agreement is a clause that allows Zachary to remain in the manor as a resident, with power to maintain the grounds, access the manor's financial accounts, hire and fire all staff except for Clancy MacArren, and domicile his children within the manor until they reach the age of twenty-one. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I understand."

"This agreement is set up so it will supersede the prior version of your father's will, should Vilenne win her case and have your father's current will nullified, except for one point. The clause forcing your family to surrender its family assets for associating with you will no longer be valid. This means that you will be allowed to communicate and socialize freely with your family, and they with you, and they will be permitted to grant you any property or monies they so desire from their own personal share of the Vulpan estate. Do you understand this?"

"I understand."

"Have you read the document as I instructed, Mister Vulpan?" he asked Zach.

"I have."

"Is it as I've described?"

"It is."

"Have you read this document as I instructed, Miss Vulpan?" he asked Vil.

"I did."

"Is it as I've described?"

"Exactly."

The lawyer nodded. "Very well. If you agree to this, Mister Vulpan," he said, turning the pages of the document to the back, "then sign here, on this line."

Vilenne offered him a pen, her eyes a mystery. He took it, and with absolutely no hesitation, he signed it. "And once more, on this line," the lawyer said, turning to the back page. Kit signed it again.

"And would the witnesses please sign and affix their seals?" the lawyer asked, pushing the document to the side of Kit. He watched as the two foxes signed the document, then used their seals over their signatures to validate them.

"Very well, this business is concluded. If Vilenne wins the lawsuit, Kit, then this contract will be put in effect, maintaining the Vulpan legal situation as it currently stands."

"Then I'm done here?" Kit asked.

"You are done. You just signed away your control of the Vulpan family fortune, Mister Vulpan. I do hope you understand exactly what you've done here today."

"I saved my soul, counsel," he breathed explosively. "I saved my soul."

"I do not understand you at all, Kit," Zach told him, his eyes totally mystified. "You had everything, and you just sign it away without a word, without a second's thought."

"I got everything I wanted out of it, uncle Zach," Kit told him. "I got my freedom. I'm going home now. I pray to God above I never see you or Boston again."

"We won't come looking for you," Zach told him. "Not after you married a cat."

"Then you stay up here, I'll stay down there, and we can forget all about each other."

"I can live with that."

Kit left the conference room feeling like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Now, finally, he was free. The family had no reason to ever look for him again. He had no control over them, no power over them, and now that the public knew about their purist attitude, he and Jessie were safe from them. They were free to drown in their money and leave him to his life in Austin with his wife, his friends, his job, and what few members of the family he still loved.

He was free of them, at long last. He was free of them.

He put his paws in his pockets and walked down the hallway, whistling idly to himself.

"Kit! Wait!" someone called. He stopped and turned around, and saw Muffy rushing towards him. She hugged him tightly, patting him on the back, and then kissed him on the cheek. "It's already hit the family. Thank you!"

"For what?"

"For being what I hoped you would be," she told him, "instead of what they were afraid you were. You're better than them, Kit, and you proved it. Can I come visit you in Austin?"

"Sure," he said with a rueful chuckle, patting her on the shoulder.

"Cool! I'm looking forward to getting to know my cousin better, but right now I gotta go! We're gonna celebrate!"

She ran off down the hall, and he had to chuckle. "Enjoy it, Muffy. For what little pleasure it gives you," he added, then Marcus fell into step beside him. Together, they headed for the parking garage, where a limo was waiting to return him to a life of quiet, middle-class, blissful normality.

"No Vil?"

"She's not sure she can talk to you right now," he answered simply. "She's so proud she could cry."

"Because she thinks I'm a lunatic?"

"No, because I think she finally understands you, Kit," he answered. "She sees that you're not crazy at all. What you have in Austin makes you the richest Vulpan of them all, son. And your sister is finally starting to see it."

"I'm glad someone does," he chuckled.

"Let's get you home, Kit. There's a pretty young lady waiting for you to come home."


Kit again rode in a limo, and flew in a private plane, and then was dropped off at the airport. But instead of a limo, Kit took a taxi home. He was a normal fur again, just another fox, and he couldn't be happier.

He carried his suitcases into his apartment, suitcases he didn't even use, then flopped down on the couch and stared at the brand new LCD TV sitting on the entertainment center, bought last week after he and Jessie spent two days shopping around for the best model at the best price. It made him laugh. A Vulpan wouldn't do that. They'd go straight for the best, the most expensive, and buy it without even thinking twice. But he wasn't a Vulpan, at least not anymore.

In many ways, he never was.

He looked around at their modest apartment, filled with gifts and quality furniture, showing the duality of his life. He was a rich kid who was broke, trying to be a normal guy, but that life just kept intruding on him. Sometimes, he hated it. But sometimes, he didn't mind so much. Money couldn't buy happiness, but it could buy some damn fun toys.

All he ever wanted was for the family to leave him alone, let him live his own life, be his own fox. And now, finally, he achieved that goal. The family's money was now solidly theirs, all challenges either crushed or signed away, so they were secure. Kit was severed by his own paw, removed from the family, and now he felt they would honor his departure from the family. They would leave him alone, let him enjoy his life with his wife, but at least now those few in the family he did love could visit him, be a part of his life without any threat of repercussion from the ghost of his dead father, who had finally been put to rest.

His father had lost. Finally. The last strings were cut that held his ghost to Kit's life, and now he was free to fall into hell.

The door opened and Jessie rushed in. No doubt Sheila or Vil had called her, and she'd cut her afternoon class to come home, he realized. She stood in the doorway, her eyes on him. "Well?"

"It's over," he told her simply. "Cybil hung herself in court. I signed the papers. I'm never going back."

"Regrets?" she asked simply.

"Not a single one," he said immediately. "Nothing in Boston could ever compare to this, or to you."

She sat down on the couch, and cuddled up to him. "Welcome home, my handsome fox," she cooed, and she began to purr.

"I love you, my pretty kitty," he said with a contented sigh, putting his arm around her and snuggling, feeling her warmth, hearing her beautiful, wonderful, mesmerizing purr.

"Kit?"

"Yes, love?"

"I'm glad you came home so early. I have something to tell you."

"What?"

"I just found out an hour ago. I'm pregnant."

Kit gave a start, and pushed her out so he could look into her eyes. "Really? You–we–oh my God!" he said, then he laughed and hugged her tightly. "You're going to have a baby! I'm so happy, Jessie!"

"Me too," she said, sighing and nuzzling his neck, just holding onto him. "You got what you wanted, and I got what I wanted, my love. Today was a good day."

"It was a good day," he agreed, kissing her ear, then leaning his head against hers. "It was a very good day."

"So, now what?" she asked.

"Now? Now we live, my love. Free of my family. Free to be whatever we want. Free to raise our children. We live, and we love, and we raise our children, and we be happy."

"Mmmm, I can live with that," she giggled, and she again began to purr, purring her happiness, purring her contentment, and telling him without words that she was, at that moment, the happiest femme in the world.

And that made him the happiest male on earth.

Chapter 20