Chapter 2

Thuk-thud. Thuk-thud. Thuk-thud.

The tennis ball hit the wall, then bounced off the rickety floor, and then dropped into Kit's waiting paw. There wasn't much room in here, and even less to do, but a male with a tennis ball always had a means of entertainment at hand.

He was sitting on the floor in front of his World War II surplus cot, in a tiny closet that passed as a room here in the Lone Star Mission, a place for furs like himself to come and find shelter. There was a homeless shelter on one side, but since Kit had a job, he qualified for these private rooms. He wasn't guaranteed a room, though. Every week, on Monday, he had to sign up for one and prove he still had a job. And so long as he got signed up before they ran out of rooms, he was set for another week. And it wasn't free, either. He had to pay fifty dollars for a week, but that was a whole heap cheaper than he'd find anywhere else. It was enough for him, though. The room wasn't too clean, but it was dry, the door locked, and he had access to a shower.

He often did that as he thought. He rather liked playing tennis back when he was younger, and though he lost his racket long ago to a thief, he did like to keep a tennis ball around. Bouncing it off the wall was a rhythmic activity that kept his paws busy and gave him time to think.

And all his thoughts were on her.

He dreamed about her again last night. It was almost the same dream, but this time he met her in the Double J. He was working, and she came in to eat. She smiled when she saw him, and he sat down and talked to. Then the Blimp came by and started screaming at him, so he tore off his work shirt and left paw in paw with her…then he woke up.

Why couldn't he get her out of his mind? He never even talked to her, for crying out loud! She could be a ditz. She could be crazy. Hell, she could be some psycho serial killer in cahoots with Sandy and that skunk, trying to lure him off to a private place so they could kill him.

One thing was for sure. He couldn't leave now. If he left, she would haunt him for weeks, months, maybe even years. Vil was right about that. He had to find out. If he left and never even tried, then there was no telling what he might be missing.

And that's why he sat there on the floor, bouncing the tennis ball off the wall just under the window, because had a lot to do. He had the next two days off, and he had things to do.

Today, he would go get a Sunday paper and look for a job and start looking for apartments. He'd also go back to the Java Joint and surf the help-wanted websites. Tomorrow, he'd start filling out applications and start sending out resumes. He was a college graduate, after all, with a degree in history. But he was also good with his paws and very healthy and strong, thanks to his time in ROTC and his habit of exercising ingrained into him after the physical rehabilitation after his accident. He could find a job where his degree would help, but he could do almost any job.

He was basically just waiting for the Java Joint to open, really. And sitting there wondering why he was going to all this trouble over a femme, but part of him just couldn't try to talk to her without being in a better position. How would it look to her to be asked out by a dishwasher who lived in a homeless shelter? She'd laugh in his face! Such a beautiful cat wouldn't even entertain being asked out by a scarred, broke, nothing like him. He had to prove he was worth it to her. He had to find a job. He had to find a place to live. He had to show that he wasn't a waste of her time.

Thuk-thud. Thuk-thud. Thuk-thud.

"Would you cut that out!" the guy in the next room shouted, banging on the wall. "You and that damned ball! You're worse than a dog!"

"Sorry!" he called, blinking. He palmed the ball and stood up, figuring it was about time to get moving. By the time he got down to the Java Joint, it would probably be open. It was nearly noon, and he wanted to get a seat before the church crowds were on the streets. He put on a clean shirt and a pair of jeans that only had one hole in them, the left knee torn out, shouldered his backpack, and headed out.

He passed by others like him in the hall. The destitute, the out-of-luck, the young trying to get on their feet and the old looking for a second chance. There were a thousand stories in places like this, most of them sad but some of them hopeful, and many of them were stories told in the journals he kept. Doing what he did, Kit met all kinds of people. He'd met European royalty in a bar in New Orleans, and had a chilling brush with an escaped murderer in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He'd sit down and strike up conversations with people, and they'd just talk to him. They'd tell him stories. They'd answer his questions. They'd show him who they were deep down inside, and then he'd write it down in his journals.

That made his inability to sit down and talk to that cat even more maddening. He wasn't a shy person. He would have had no trouble sitting down and talking with her, but it was different. He was looking for more than just to talk, and the spectre of his family had risen up and made him afraid. If he'd not wanted to do more than talk, he'd have had no problem sitting down and coaxing her story from her.

Everyone had a story to tell.

It was a half hour walk to the Java Joint from the mission, but for him it was a chance to think things through a little more. He got a plan set up in his mind about what he needed to do, a course of action to maximize his efficiency and minimize the time it would take to get it done. It was a typical Texas day in August, dry and already starting to get hot, and by midafternoon it would be broiling outside, much too hot for a New Englander.

It was with relief that he found the Java Joint wasn't busy yet, so he got his favorite table near the small stage they had for open mic nights, pulled out his laptop, and got to work. With a cup of green tea, a bagel, and a Sunday paper, he started hunting through the want ads, both for apartments and for jobs. There weren't many interesting jobs in there, and since this was a college town, there were tons of apartments but many of them were outrageously expensive. He transcribed all the ads into his computer by hand, making a detailed little spreadsheet of apartments available, sorted by price and location, then started listing the available jobs in the want ads in order of desirability. Later he'd cross-reference the two spreadsheets by addresses, so he could focus on apartments near jobs and jobs near apartments.

All those years of being forced into business schools did have some benefit, he supposed. He could make Excel get up and dance across the table.

Once he was done with the paper, he turned to the internet. He surfed several help-wanted websites, searching for jobs in the Austin area, and got quite a few promising leads. His major was history, but that kind of degree also meant that he knew how to write, and he was very good at research and editing, because of all the papers he had to write. There were two jobs posted for researchers, both for local magazines; one a college magazine aimed at the U.T. students and the other a local scene magazine. There was also a job being posted for an internship for a local TV station, but that was aimed more at journalism students from the university than someone like him. But, it was listed, so it was worth at least a look.

He realized he had email. He opened it up and found a message from Vil, a short little note.

Hey Bro.
(512) 555-3924.

That's Lone Star, a magazine based there in Austin. They're looking for a researcher. I know that's something you'd be good at doing.
Give them a call.
And I swear right here and now that I haven't meddled a bit. You'll have to earn that job yourself.
But I reserve the right to help you any way I can, both with what you'll let me do and what I can get away with where you can't see me.

Vil

Kit looked at the number, and realized he'd already written down that ad and had it in his spreadsheet.

He had to chuckle. That damn meddling female, but he loved her for her concern. She was going to let him live his life, but she was still gonna stick her paw in when she wanted to.

He shot back a reply thanking her for something he'd already found himself–just to tweak her a little bit–and promised he'd call first thing tomorrow morning, just as soon as he got his resume printed out down at Kinko's.


"This is stupid," Jessie complained, mainly to herself, crossing her arms before her in the passenger seat of Sandy's Festiva.

"No way!" she said. "I'm hungry!"

"And we're driving all the way up to North Austin to get a bite to eat? Sandy, you're being silly."

"Okay, well, maybe I am going back to that café," she winked as they stopped for a red light. "I want to see if he shows up again!"

"I have homework to do!" she protested. "I can't be out all day."

"Well, seeing as how I'm the one with the car keys, I think you're going to stay out til I decide to go home," she teased, flashing an evil little smile.

"Sandy!"

She laughed. "Come on, it'll be fun! Think of the excitement waiting to see if he shows up! We can grab some lunch there, then go hit the mall and get you some new clothes! You're available again, hon, you gotta advertise!"

"I have enough advertising clothes already."

"I'm almost thinking you're sick," she grinned. "Turning down the chance to shop?"

"I, I just want to go back," she hedged.

"Afraid he won't show up? Or afraid he will?" she pressed.

"I'm not answering that," she said primly.

"Riiight. And who was it making all those cooing noises and saying his name before I woke her up this morning?"

The cream-colored fur on her cheeks ruffled.

Sandy laughed. "You're almost cute sometimes, you know that?" she grinned. "Such a prig."

"I was raised to be a lady," she protested. "Besides, if my mom found out I was even going out on dates, she'd have a cow."

"She's that bad?"

"She thinks I should get married before I even go out on a date."

Sandy laughed. "How can you find a guy to marry if you can't date?"

"Well, that hasn't quite worked itself into her head yet. And she'd go on a three hour rant telling me how much she disapproves if she found out, then threaten to cut me off and make me come home and go to Cincinnati or Ohio State, where she can be close and keep an eye on me."

"Wow. She sounds like a real bitch."

"Why do you think I came here to go to school? It's a thousand miles away from Cincinnati."

"Well, you've certainly come a long way since we hazed you," Sandy said with a naughty tickle in her voice. "It only took us a year to get you a boyfriend. Too bad we picked such a jerk."

"Eh, it was fun with Burke, at least until I found out what he was really like."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. We'll find someone better this time. We just gotta get you laid, and everything will work out just fine."

Jessie's entire face poofed out. "Well, why are we doing this if he's just going to leave?"

"Because he was cute. And hell, girl, you can have a one night stand with him and never have to worry about seeing him again!"

"That was not what I had in mind when you got me in this car," she said primly.

"Well, it won't hurt just to see, will it?" she asked with a naughty smile as they got off the interstate.

They pulled up into the parking lot and piled out. The place didn't look very busy, but then again, it was early on Sunday. Jessie went in first, but she stopped dead near the door, causing Sandy to crash into her back.

He was here!

His back was to the door, but there was no mistaking him, not with that piece of his ear missing.

"What? Oh, he's here!" Sandy said in an excited whisper.

"Oh my God," Jessie said fearfully, smoothing her hair, kicking herself for wearing nothing but an old pair of jeans and a U.T. tee shirt. She smoothed her shirt, put her paws on her cheeks. "Do I look okay? I must look terrible! I didn't do my hair or anything!"

Sandy laughed. "You're dressed the same way he is," she said, putting her hands on Jessie's back and pushing her forward.


Kit was about to start rearranging the want ads to put Lone Star on top, taking a drink from his tea, when a shadow passed close to him. "Hi!" came a cheery, loud voice, which almost made him choke on his tea.

He knew that voice. It was the chinchilla, Sandy.

He lowered his mug of tea and looked over, then he almost dropped it. She was with her! She looked embarrassed half to death, but she was even more beautiful seeing her a second time. She hadn't preened herself, hadn't dressed up and dolled up. He was seeing the real femme under the veneer, and it was even better natural than it was carefully prepared.

"Fancy meeting you again. Sandy, isn't it?" he asked.

"You bet! And this nervous little kitty here is Jessie, but we all call her JD. It makes her sound cool," she grinned.

"Nice to meet you," he said, trying to sound casual and friendly. She was clearly quite nervous, and he didn't want to put her off. "I'm Kit."

"Um, h-hi," she said nervously. She didn't quite know what to do with herself, standing there wringing her black-mittened paws, then she stuck one paw out towards him.

God, she was gorgeous. He just had to look at her again. Slender but well curved, with a long-haired tail that made her look very sensual, a tail that was the same cream color as her fur but had a black tip. In a way, her color markings were almost fox-like, with the ears and the mittens and the black tip on her tail, but she was definitely a cat.

He took her hand and shook it gently, but didn't let it go. He just looked up at her, silent, and she looked down at him with that same nervous expression. But she didn't try to pull away.

"Hey, can we join ya?" Sandy asked boldly, giving her friend a sly look.

"Sure, I don't mind," Kit said, shaking out of his reverie. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you," she said, seating herself on his right. He was almost disappointed when she pulled her paw from his, putting her paws together on the table before her and looking very, very unsettled. No doubt her friend had put her up to this, and now she was at a loss as to what to do next.

"I'll go order us something, JD. Don't run away!" Sandy said with a wicked tilt, then hurried off.

"Umm, so, Sandy said you travel around?" the cat said hesitantly. "And you're getting ready to leave again?"

"Travel around yes, but I'm gonna stay here a little while longer," he answered. "I've been looking for a new job this morning."

"On a Sunday?"

"It's the best day. New ads in the paper, new job listings posted on Saturday night."

"What, uh, do you do now?"

"I bus tables at the Double J," he said immediately, looking her in the eyes. "It's not much, but for someone like me, it's usually enough to let me put enough back to move on. But, since I'm gonna stay a little while longer, I need something that pays a little better."

"Oh. What's it like?"

"What?"

"Moving from place to place."

"Sometimes it's not so bad," he answered. "I've met a lot of really interesting people. Not all of them have been nice, and it was scary there a few times, but on the whole it's been worth it."

"Is that how you–" she said, then she put her paw over her mouth.

"How I lost my ear?" he finished. She nodded, her face frizzing in a blush of embarrassment. He chuckled. "No, I was hit by a car when I was in college, that's where I lost my ear. It wasn't from being mugged in some dark alley," he said with a light smile. "Though that did happen a couple of times when I first started out, before I knew how to get around on my own."

"You were in college? Where?"

"U-Mass. I graduated last December."

"Why didn't you get a job instead of roaming?"

"That's…a long story," he said, a little distantly. "Maybe someday I'll tell you about it. Now, why do they call you JD?"

"Because there's another Jessie in the house," she said shyly. "Since she was there first, they all call me JD instead."

"Well, I kinda like it."

"Thank you," she said, her cheeks ruffling in a very pleasing manner. "I think it makes me sound like a male, though."

He chuckled. "No one could ever say that after they see you. You're beautiful."

"I'm a mess," she complained, patting her hair and smoothing out her face fur.

"No, you're you," he told her. "Sometimes you can see more about a person when they're relaxed than when they're ready. Pretty clothes and makeup and professional hairstyling can often cover up what's underneath. That's what's always interested me, what's inside. The outside is just a shell, a front."


Jessie immediately had an image in her mind of Burke, a handsome wolf whose true nature was hidden behind his handsome face. He had been a rotten person wrapped in an attractive package. This fox, he was very insightful, and he seemed very wise. Much wiser and smarter than most males the sorority girls had thrown at her. All they cared about was how cute they were and how good they were in bed. But there was more to this fox than just a handsome face. The more she looked at him, the more handsome he seemed, even with his unusual dual-colored eyes and the missing piece of his ear. They were almost like beauty marks rather than mars to her, part of what made him handsome.

There was a long silence. She just looked at him, and he just looked at her, and she didn't even realize it. She was lost in looking at him.

"So!" Sandy said loudly, startling both of them. Jessie gave Sandy a dark look as she plopped down in the other chair, holding a platter of bagels and coffee for her, and soda for Jessie. "When's the big moving day, Kit?"

"Well, I was going to leave on Wednesday, but I think I might hang around a while longer," he said, glancing unconsciously at Jessie, a little move she didn't miss. "Something about Austin just invited me to stay a while longer."

"Do tell," Sandy purred, leaning on her elbows and looking directly into Kit's eyes. "So, you want JD's number? We're roomies."

"Sandy!" Jessie said in shock.

"Well, as nice as that sounds, I'm not going to have much time for the next couple of weeks," he said. "I need to find somewhere to live. I've been staying in the mission since I've been here."

"The mission?" Jessie asked. "What is that?"

"A homeless shelter," he answered directly, looking right at her. He wanted to see how she reacted to that news, she was sure of it! "They rent out cheap rooms if you have a job."

"Kinda like the Y?" Sandy asked.

"More or less, yeah," he nodded. "But if I'm gonna be here more than a few weeks, I'd like something a little…cleaner," he said with a hilariously distasteful face.

Sandy laughed, and Jessie tried not to giggle. The way he said it was so funny, but she didn't want him to think she was laughing at him.

"You should pick up one of the campus mags," Sandy told him. "There's a ton of listings of people looking for roomies, and it's way cheaper than getting an apartment." She glanced at Jessie. "And most of the apartments are close to the campus," she added.

"You know, that's a good idea," he said honestly. "I've been going through the apartment listings around here, and ugh."

"Yeah, they're expensive," Jessie agreed.

"And people are still trying to fill up houses and apartments. We've only been back for two weeks, so the dust is still flying," Sandy added. "This is a good time to look."

"I'll have to look into it."

"So, what do you do when you're not washing dishes and sitting around in here?" Sandy pressed.

"Not much. Just live, I guess. There's not much to do, really. All you can really do is hang out with a bunch of smelly homeless guys, but sometimes that's actually kinda cool Some of the have some pretty interesting stories to tell."

Sandy took a big bite out of her bagel, then kicked Jessie under the table. Jessie glared at her for a quick moment, then took a sip of her soda. What was she supposed to say? What should she do? She wanted to learn more about him, but she was so nervous! What if she said something that got him upset?

"You gotta excuse JD, Kit. She's kinda shy, and she's from a sheltered family," Sandy said after she swallowed. "She's really interested in you, but doesn't quite know what to do about it."

"Sandy!" Jessie gasped, her face poofing out. She almost felt like she wanted to die, she was so embarrassed!

Kit looked right into her eyes and smiled. "That's okay, I'm a little nervous too. Sometimes I'm not quite sure what I should say or do when I'm around a beautiful femme."

She looked away, both embarrassed and flattered. He thought she was pretty!

"And it's a little different for me. I mean, I'm effectively homeless, rootless. What can I really say or do that covers that over? Kinda makes it hard to talk to femmes, really. You know that old rap song, got no money and you got no car, you got no female, so there you are."

"You're not homeless," Jessie blurted. "You just have a different way of living, that's all. I think you could get a real home if you wanted to. You're just living outside the box, as it were. You know, living life your own way, experiencing it from a different perspective than most other people. There's nothing wrong with that!"

"Well, thank you," he said, smiling at her. "And I see there's a bit of poet lurking in there somewhere."

"And literature. My major is English," Jessie admitted.

Kit chuckled. "Listen. Wanna go do something?"

"What ya have in mind?" Sandy grinned.

"Have you ever been ice skating?" he asked. "They have a rink right there in the mall."

"Sure!" Sandy said loudly. "If you don't mind a third wheel and all, but I'm also kinda JD's ride home," the chinchilla winked.

"I, I've never skated on ice before," Jessie said shyly. "Just on roller skates."

"It's a little different, but you can get the hang of it if you try," he promised, holding out his paw. "What do you say?"

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all. I'll even pay," he smiled.

"Naw, you're gonna need your money!" Sandy told him. "I'll treat! You two walk on over, and I'll go move the car. See you at the rink!"

The chinchilla jumped up and rushed out, leaving her alone with him. She felt her cheek fur ruffle slightly when he looked at her, and she kicked herself for being so shy. Come on, you silly femme! You know you want to talk to him, so talk to him! she thought to herself. "So, what's it really like, doing what you're doing?" she asked.

"It's been very interesting. I've been keeping a journal of it as I move from place to place. Things I've seen, people I've met, the stories they've told. Everyone has a story, and it's been really interesting going out and finding them."

"Sounds like you want to be a reporter, or a writer."

"I really have no idea what I want to be," he said as he packed his laptop in his backpack and stood up. He offered his paw to her, and she took it as she stood up. His paw was warm. Strong. His pads were rough and hard, a sign he worked for his dinner, but his grip was gentle and inviting. "So, what are you going to do with an English degree?" he asked.

They walked out of the café, and her paw was still in his. It felt kinda nice, and she hadn't thought to take it out. "I want to be a teacher," she said. "I'm going to teach while I earn my Master's, then be a full-time teacher."

"Ah. What level were you looking to teach?"

"I was thinking middle or high school," she said. "I haven't decided yet."

"How long have you been at U.T.?"

"I just started my junior year," she explained as they walked towards the mall. "I'll probably stay and get my Masters here too. I kinda like it here."

"Where are you from?"

"Cincinnati," she answered. "You're from New England, somewhere, aren't you?"

He laughed. "Boston. It is really that obvious?"

"It is noticeable," she giggled. "Everyone but you and me has that drawl. Goodness, Sandy's from Utah, and even she speaks with a drawl now. I swear, it must be viral or something."

He laughed. "Hopefully I won't catch it."

"You and me both. What did you study in college?"

"Well, I started in ROTC working towards a degree in political science, but after I was hit by the car, I was washed out medically," he said with a strange, wistful sigh. "I wanted to join the Air Force and fly planes, but I can't even pass the physical."

"You look fine to me."

"My back was broken," he said simply. "That kind of injury is a blackball."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he told her, squeezing her hand gently in thanks for her concern. "Sometimes it's a little stiff in the mornings, but I'm just fine. Anyway, I changed majors to history after the accident and graduated last December. While I was recovering, there wasn't much for me to do but read, and I got kinda interested in history. Reading about ancient history kept my mind occupied, and after I got back in school, I decided to study it for real."

"What did you do your capstone on?"

"I compared ancient Rome to modern America," he answered. "I compared the societal conditions between the two, with the thesis that America is following Rome's path. And if something doesn't change, we'll meet the same fate."

"Wow," she breathed, looking over at him. He let go of her hand and opened the door, then held it open for her. "Thank you. That's pretty deep."

"It was an interesting concept. My department head said it made her think about it for a while. I guess I couldn't ask for anything better than that."

"I wouldn't mind reading it."

"Just go to U-Mass' website and search for the title America and Rome, two civilizations, one fate. They keep all capstones and dissertations in the library, you can read it online." He winced a little.

"What?" she asked as he opened the inner door for her.

"Well, my name's on the capstone," he said. "My name is…I don't like it," he admitted. "That's why I go by Kit. It's awful."

"Well, it can't be any worse than Desdemona," she said with a slight ruffle of her cheeks. She couldn't believe she told him her middle name!

"Ah, so that's where the D comes from?" he said with a smile.

She nodded.

"Your folks were big Shakespeare fans?"

She laughed. "My father's an English professor at the University of Cincinnati. My sister's middle name is Ophelia."

"Following your dad in the family footsteps?"

"I guess. He used to read me stories when I was kitten, and I just got interested. I'm more of a modern femme, though," she said with a smile. "I'm more into modern literature. If the authors are dead, it's not as interesting to me."

He laughed. "I hope Vonnegut isn't on that list."

"You read Vonnegut?" she asked excitedly. "He's one of my favorite authors!"

They got involved in talking about Vonnegut as they walked to the rink in the center of the mall, but their discussion was interrupted by Sandy, who crashed into them from behind. "It's about time, you two! Okay, Kit, show us where to go."

He took them to the rink, rented skates, and stuffed his backpack in a rental locker as they put them on. Sandy looked a little shaky on the thin blades, and Jessie herself was quite unstable when she first stood up. Kit, wearing a pair of hockey skates, stood up rock stable. "I shoulda known you'd know how to skate, being from Boston!" she laughed.

"Every winter," he grinned. "Come on, I'll teach you," he said, offering his paw to her.

She felt strangely vulnerable out on the ice. She knew how to roller skate, but all her weight was on those thin blades, and it made her ankles feel dangerously wobbly as she tried to balance on them. She was almost leaning against Kit as he led her out onto the ice, where others were also skating with different degrees of mastery. Most were shaky and unsteady, like her and Sandy, but a few furs were zooming around the rink as effortlessly as could be. It felt strange to be out of control, and she felt very self-conscious trying not to look like a fool in front of him, but he just smiled at her and seemed to not notice at all that she was trying her best not to fall down and embarrass herself. Sandy, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She flopped down on her butt almost immediately after getting on the ice, and just sat there and laughed loudly about it. But, the chinchilla was keeping her distance, and for that, Jessie could kiss her. It wasn't half as embarrassing trying to talk to him without her there mortifying her.

He kept hold of her paw as he explained how to move without falling down. They started out slow, and she had trouble concentrating on what she was doing with him holding her paw. He smelled so nice, and he was so strong and sure of himself! But he pushed out to arm's length once she was a bit more stable, and she floundered along beside him as he glided with almost ridiculous ease.

She felt like a pregnant cow, but he seemed oblivious to her clumsiness. He just glided along with her as she stumbled, then swung around and took both her paws in his and guided her. "Easy, easy," he said. "It's just like roller skating, JD. Push off with one foot, then again, then again."

"It feels weird."

"I know, it's because you don't have four wheels. Now push off with your foot and do it just like roller skating."

After three circuits around the rink, she was starting to get a little more sure of herself. It wasn't easy, because all she could feel, or think about, was his strong paws holding hers. "See, you're a natural," he told her as he let go of her paws and drifted back, skating backwards in front of her.

"At least I'm not falling down making a fool of myself," she said ruefully.

"You should never be embarrassed about learning," he said sagely. "We all can't be experts at everything we do the first time we do them. I didn't expect to see you come out and start doing triple axels," he added with a grin. "Then again, if you did, I'd have felt really stupid," he laughed. "'Let me teach you,' I said, then you'd come out and make a fool out of me."

"I wouldn't do that," she said impulsively.

"I'm glad you wouldn't. I know I'd feel way nervous right now if I was the one that looked silly cause I didn't know how to skate, but that's okay. I just hope you don't think I did it to you on purpose, that's all."

Was she really that transparent? He seemed to know that she really was nervous, and she was feeling a little self-conscious because he was so good at it, so graceful, and here she was clunking along like she had a ball and chain locked to her ankle.

"Well, at least I'm not that bad," she said with a laugh, pointing at Sandy. She was on her butt again near the rail, laughing.

"Let me go take care of that," he chuckled. "Wait for me, okay?"

"Sure," she said, coming to an unsteady stop they way he taught her. He circled around Sandy, then reached down and helped her up. Jessie watched as he did the same for Sandy he did for her, holding her paws and skating backwards as he explained how to move to get going. She saw how gentle he was, how he guided her, just laughed with her when she remarked how dumb she looked, but then immediately squelched any further attempts at self-deprecation by giving her an encouraging little pep talk. She stood in the middle and turned to watch as he guided her around the rink a complete circle, then let go of her paws and skated backwards in front of her as she stumbled uncertainly. He slowed down a little and reached his paws out to her, but she caught her skate on the ice and pitched forward, slamming into him and driving both of them to the ice.

Sandy rolled over on her backside and laughed, but Jessie realized that Kit wasn't laughing. He had his back arched, almost unnaturally so, sitting on his hip with his left elbow down to steady himself, as his other paw was held behind him. He was grimacing in pain.

Oh God! He'd told her he broke his back when he got hit by a car! Sandy must have hurt him!

"Kit!" she said in shock and concern, rushing to him as quickly as she dared. She stumbled to a stop and kneeled beside him. "Are you okay?"

"Just give me a minute," he said, sucking in his breath. "That was just bad luck. I hit exactly right. Well, exactly wrong, that is."

"Aww, I'm sorry, Kit!" Sandy said, scooting over to him. "I didn't realize I hit you so hard. You okay?"

"I'll be alright," he said, taking a few cleansing breaths. "And it wasn't your fault, Sandy. I just landed the wrong way. Would you two mind if I go sit down for a minute?"

"Here, let me help you," Jessie said in worry, taking his paw in both of hers.

Sandy helped her lead him over to the empty gateway to the lockers. He sat down on the closest bench and leaned far back, both paws on the small of his back. "No, I'll be fine, really," he said to them as he saw two concerned faces. "Just give me a minute. Get back out there and practice, you worry-hens!" he said, brushing them away with a paw.

She realized he didn't want to concern them…that, or he didn't want them to see him like that. Either way, she just nodded to Sandy and went back out on the rink with her. "I'm sorry, JD, I didn't realize I hit him so hard," she apologized.

"No, he told me how he lost that piece of his ear," she explained. "He was hit by a car, and it broke his back."

Sandy blanched. "Ohmahgawd, I musta–"

"I think he's okay. I guess it's still tender, that's all." They both looked back to the benches, and saw him massaging his back with both paws. He saw them looking, then smiled and waved. They waved back, and floundered along together.

"So, like him?" Sandy asked.

"Yes!" she said instantly. "He's really interesting!"

"He's gorgeous," Sandy said, giving her a lascivious grin.

"He's smart," she countered.

"Glad we came looking for him?" she grinned.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Thanks, Sandy."

"Anytime, hon, anytime. Did you see how he was looking at you when he said he decided to stay?" she whispered. "I think he was going to stay just for you!"

"I don't think so," she said demurely, but she remembered how he glanced at her. Was he really going to stay just to go out with her? If so, that was so romantic!

"I think he really likes you," Sandy said with a sly smile. "You gotta give him our number, JD!"

"Our number?" Jessie protested.

"I live in the house too," Sandy grinned. "Besides, if you two don't work out, I might take a shot at that hunk of fine fox."

They went around twice on their own, then they saw him stand up and stretch his back, bend side to side, then start back out onto the ice. He glided over to them easily. "Sorry about that. Hope I didn't upset you."

"Naw, JD told me what you told her about the car. How long ago was it?"

"About two years ago," he answered. "The docs told me my back would always be a little tender. Stuff like that's happened before, it's no big deal. I'm fine."

"Well, that's good to know. You guys want something to drink? I'm thirsty."

"I'm fine, thank you," he said.

"No thanks, Sandy," Jessie said.

"Okay, lemme stumble over to that concession stand and get something. Be back in a bit." Sandy gave her a wink where he couldn't see, then went towards the opening.

"You okay? Really?"

"Really," he chuckled. "It's just when my back gets jarred in certain ways, it hurts, that's all. Hitting the ice like that was one of the ways."

"Well, I'm sorry about that."

"No reason to apologize, JD," he said dismissively. "I know it would never have happened if Sandy knew."

"That's nice of you."

"Eh, I kinda like her. She's silly, and boy does she talk fast."

Jessie laughed. "She reminds me of my little sister. She talks a mile a minute."

"Ophelia?"

Jessie laughed again. "Don't ever call her that or she'll rip out your liver," she said. "Her first name is Jenny." She was quiet a moment. "Do you have any sisters?"

"I have a sister," he said. "She's probably my best friend."

"That's nice. It's not often you hear a brother say that about a sister," she said with a smile.

"Me and Vil went through a lot," he said. "After our mother died when I was eight, she was more like my mother than my sister. Even now, she always tries to mother me."

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother."

"Thank you."

"What about your father?"

"He's dead," Kit said, his voice turning flat and hard almost out of reflex.

She looked away, a bit chagrined that she seemed to have ventured into dangerous territory. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's okay. Me and my father had a very long and very ugly history," he explained. "He threw me out of the house when I was sixteen. After that, my sister was the only family I had. She risked a lot to keep in touch with me, because my father–well, let's just say that he forbade the rest of my family from having anything to do with me, and the rest of them were too afraid of him to go against him. Everyone but Vil, anyway."

Jessie could sense…evasion. There was much more to this story than he was letting on. Was he only telling her what he felt comfortable saying, or was he trying to hide something? What had happened between him and his father that had caused him to be thrown out at sixteen? What kind of fox was he that he kept the rest of Kit's family away, and what kind of vixen was this Vil that she was willing to defy their father to keep in touch with him? There was something…intriguing about what he wasn't saying. Maybe someday, he'd trust her enough to tell her.

"Anyway, Vil helped me find a place to live, she'd sneak me money, she helped me get into U-Mass after I graduated from high school, and when I was hit by the car, she was the one that was there for me. If it wasn't for Vil, I'd be dead now."

"Well, I'll have to thank her when I meet her," Jessie mused impulsively, then she looked away from him, her cheek fur ruffling.

"Geez, will she want to meet you," he chuckled. "I talked to her yesterday, and I made the eternal mistake of telling her about you."

"But, but we'd never even spoken!"

"I know, but…" he trailed off, looking at his skates. She looked at him, and could see that he was trying to think of what to say, and then his cheek fur ruffled a little. He was nervous! Finally, his veneer of confidence was stripped away, and she saw that he wasn't as strong or self-confident as he seemed. "I told her about how Sandy dropped in on me, and made the mistake of saying that you were beautiful. She was all over me at that point. She knows I don't make observations like that unless I really mean it."

Jessie's heart seemed to flutter a little. He really did think she was beautiful!

"She's the one that talked me into not leaving. She talked me into hanging around, try looking for you, and seeing if there was something there when I did. She had to talk–" he sighed, then he glanced at her. "I guess I should explain something to you."

He stopped them in the middle of the rink, and she was starting to get a little nervous, and also a little curious. "This isn't easy for me to explain," he said, looking at her with sober and earnest eyes. "Mainly because it's so outlandish sometimes I don't think even I'd believe it if I heard someone else say it. So please understand that what I'm about to say isn't the whole truth. It's just a part of the truth that puts everything in a rational perspective."

"I–okay."

"Alright. Here goes," he said, taking a cleansing breath. "I'm from what you might call a very eccentric family. They have very extreme views, and most of them are rabid, fanatical purists. To them, the purity of the family line is more important than anything else. If they found out that I was out on a date with a cat," he said, then he shuddered. "But the sad thing is, I've been disowned, and I'm still so afraid of them, that it, well, I'm afraid of anything that might happen, that's all," he said with a sigh. "When I saw you in the booth with the skunk, all I wanted to do was sit down and talk to you, but then I saw this spectre of my family hovering over you like a ghost, and I was afraid to do it. It's almost sad. I've been disowned for six years, and still they can reach out and run my life," he sighed. "But even me being disowned wouldn't be enough for them. They'd see me and you as an insult to the family, and I'd be afraid of what a few of them would do, especially Uncle Zach."

And that's why you roam around like a vagabond, isn't it? she realized to herself. Because you're still running from a family that hates you, but you're still afraid of. How would I feel if Mom and Dad turned their backs on me? I'd feel totally lost. I'd be devastated. Oh, God, you poor fox.

She reached out and put her paws on his shoulders, her heart pounding in her chest. It was an instinctive move, a need to comfort what she could see was obvious pain. "I'm not afraid of them," she told him in a gentle voice. "Kit, I," she started, then she looked down. "I just met you, but I'd like to see you again. I'm not afraid of your family. After all, they're all in Boston, aren't they? And you roam around. How could they know? How could they do anything?"

"My family has a very long arm, JD," he said honestly. "A very, very long arm."

"Well, let's see if it can reach all the way to Austin," she said daringly, sliding a little closer to him. She looked up at him, and before she had any idea what happened, he was kissing her.

She tensed up, but his kiss was gentle, inviting, not forced or hungry. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, and began kissing him back. Burke had never kissed her that way. It was so, so, so…warm. And sensual. And almost intoxicating!

Just as she started surrendering to the kiss, he pulled away. She looked up at him in confusion, and saw his eyes were chagrined. "I had no right to do that," he said in a growl, mainly at himself, she realized. "I'm sorry, JD. It was wrong."

"No, no, it wasn't wrong," she said, a little out of breath. "If I wanted you to stop, I'd have kneed you in the groin."

He gave her a curious look, then laughed. "Well, I'd have deserved it."

The magic of the moment faded, and she put a paw to her muzzle, realizing they'd just kissed right out in the public, where everyone could see! She felt her face poof out in a blush, but all he did was smile down at her. "I think this is about the time when I should be saying goodbye," he said. "I've just done something entirely too forward, and did it out where your friend could see. And, I need a little time to think, okay?"

She could hear the pent-up fear behind his voice. Even with her blessing, he was still afraid of his family. Who were they, and what kind of furs were they that could instill such fear in him like this?

"I understand. I can give you my number, and you can call me later, okay?"

"No, that's not proper. I'm not sure you're going to still be this happy to see me after you think things through. I'll give you the number to the cell phone my sis makes me carry around for emergencies. That way you can be the one to decide if what I said and did here was alright enough with you to want to see me again. That way there's no pressure on you at all. Come on, I need to get the phone. I don't really know the number off the top of my head. I'll have to look it up."

He took her paw and guided her back to the benches, leaving her a little confused. He didn't seem cold or angry, it was almost like he was so afraid after what he said, and what he did, that he wanted to back off and think. But did he want her to think or did he want to think himself? Usually Jessie was pretty good at reading other people, but right now she wasn't sure. All she could really tell was that he was kicking himself for kissing her, he was really upset with himself, and maybe he was afraid he lost all the ground he'd made with her up to that point by doing something so rash.

Sandy kept her distance, hovering at the edge of the concession stand with a cup of soda in her paws as Kit opened the locker he used, took out his backpack, and pulled out a brand new and very expensive-looking black cell phone. He flipped it open and pulled a little post-it note off of it, and handed it to her. "That's the number of the phone," he told her, folding it into her paw. "But please, don't rush. Think about it. Think about what I said, and think about what it means. And after you decide, if you can forgive me for being an idiot, and if you're really ready to take a chance on someone like me, then call me. I'll be waiting for you. I promise."

His eyes were so earnest. He was so upset. He was so afraid. How much different he seemed now than just a few minutes ago! But as soon as he started talking about his family, his entire demeanor changed, and now he was very unsettled and unsure. She realized that even if she didn't think he was being serious about his family, he sure was. His fear of them was very real, even if it was misplaced.

He hesitated, then he seemed to screw up his courage. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then quickly hurried away. She watched him go, saw him strip off his hockey skates in almost record time, then all but throw them at the clerk at the rental window as he rushed away.

"What happened?" Sandy asked quickly as she hurried over. "Did he grab you or something?"

"No, he," she said, then she sat down on the bench and tried to sort it all out. "He told me about his family."

"And that scared him off?"

"Yeah. It did," she said, opening her paw and looking at the telephone number. The area code was unknown to her. "He's really afraid of his family, Sandy. I think that's why he lives like a homeless vagabond. He told me that he was afraid of what they'd do if they found out we were dating. I could hear it in his voice. He was really serious."

"What are they, terrorists or something?" Sandy asked curiously.

"I don't know," she said. "He gave me his number."

"Well, it's not a lost cause, then," Sandy said with a smirk. "Call him when you get home."

"No, I think that'd be too soon," she said. "I think it's best if I wait until tomorrow. If I just called him so fast, he wouldn't think I thought about it the way he asked me to."

"Femme, you gotta explain this to me. Let's go ahead and go back to the house."

"Yeah. That's a good idea. I forgot I have that homework to do."

"But, was he a good kisser?" she asked, elbowing her in the ribs.

"It curled my toes," she admitted with her cheeks ruffling, which made Sandy laugh.

"That's what's most important," she teased.


He was kicking himself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

How could he do that? How could he kiss her! He could tell she was nervous, he could tell she was a little shy. That was the most idiotic, stupid-assed stunt he could have possible pulled to totally wreck what was such a wonderful afternoon!

He went back to the mission and paced around his room angrily, for over two hours, his tail swishing back and forth behind him with sharp, jerking movements. He worked so hard to make her feel at ease. He worked so hard to seem as un-intimidating as possible. He could sense that she was shy, he could sense that she was nervous. He didn't want her to be nervous. He wanted her to feel comfortable, to talk to him, to show him the true person inside. And there for a while, she was opening up to him. She was smiling, she was laughing–

God, was her voice lovely!

And then came the question. He had no choice but to tell her, because she'd told him about her family. He knew he was going to screw that up, that he couldn't possibly explain it to her in a way that she'd believe, but still convey how he felt about it. But she looked up at him, and her eyes was so beautiful, and he just, just couldn't help himself. He was kissing her before he even knew what the hell he was doing. And right when he realized it, she put her arms around him, and he lost all rational thought when she kissed him back.

That female could kiss!

He groaned, flopping down to the floor, feeling his back protest the hard impact and the unforgiving surface. Stupid, stupid, stupid! The only female that had ever turned his head, a female so beautiful he even dreamed about her, so gentle that he felt almost giddy when she touched him, so compassionate he could feel her concern like a palpable thing, and he blew it.

The phone in his backpack rang, almost startling him out of his wits. Was it her? Was she calling him back this fast? He scrambled to his knees and tore it out of the pack and flipped it open. "JD? JD? I'm sorry–"

"Nobody's ever called me that before," Vil laughed from the other end. "Did you find her, bro?"

Kit groaned and flopped back onto the floor. "I'm an idiot, sis!" he said loathingly. "I think I totally blew it!"

"Whoa there, bro, calm down. What happened? How did you blow it?"

"I kissed her, Vil! Right on the mouth!"

"On your first date? You move fast," she teased.

"It was a disaster!" he lamented, putting his free paw over his eyes. "It was the worst thing I could have done!"

"Well, walk me through it, little bro," she said, sitting down in her Boston apartment on the sofa near her work desk in her study. "This may not be as bad as you think."

He glossed over most of their outing, up until he got to the point where he had to explain his concern. "How could I tell her, Vil? How could I explain it? I just couldn't! I have no idea what I said, but it must have sounded totally ridiculous. She didn't seem to take it seriously. Then she looked up at me, and God was she so beautiful, I, I just don't know why the hell I did that!"

"Okay, bro, first thing. Calm down," she called in a steady, cool voice. "Just calm down. Working yourself into a seizure isn't going to help right now."

He took several breaths, then began again with a less hysterical voice. "At least she didn't slug me," he finally said.

"Well, that's a positive outlook," Vil chuckled, leaning back on the sofa. "Now, what happened after you kissed her?"

"I apologized," he said immediately. "And I broke off the date. I gave her the number to this phone, and told her to call me if she wasn't angry with me, and if she decided that seeing a homeless bum making minimum wage who's too much of a chickenshit to stand up to his own family was worth her time."

"Watch your mouth, Kit," she scolded.

"Sorry," he said with a sigh. "I don't know what to do, sis. I feel so stupid."

"The first thing you can do is get off the floor," she told him.

There was a startled silence. "How did you know that?"

"I know you better than you think, little brother," she told him seriously. "Now get up and sit down on a chair or a bed or something. Do not flail about on the floor like a madman."

He did as she ordered, getting up and sitting on the bed.

"Alright, now, think about it. Did she do or say anything to you that hinted that she was angry?"

"Well, no," he said after a moment. "But it was so out of line–"

"Stop that!" she barked. "This isn't about you. Did she say anything after you kissed her? Anything at all?"

"No, she didn't say a word. I think I scared her half to death. She's very shy, Vil. She's shy, and she was nervous. That's why it was like the ultimate bad thing to do to kiss her. I must have scared her out of her mind!"

"Stop it," she warned in a dangerous voice. "Just repeating things over and over gets us nowhere, and it just works you up."

"No, wait. After I kissed her and said I was sorry, she said that she woulda kneed me in the balls if she thought I was out of line," he remembered.

Vil laughed. "I think I like this girl," she said. "So, she joked about it after you kissed her, but didn't make any indications she was angry?"

He thought for a minute. "No, not that I can remember."

"Did she kiss you back?"

He blew out his breath. "I thought I was going to pass out right there in the rink," he said thickly.

"So, she did," Vil chuckled dryly. "And it sounds like you enjoyed it."

"I thought my heart was going to stop."

"Okay then, bro, just relax a little. A girl never kisses back if she feels put upon or forced. If she kissed you back, she was definitely into that kiss. You may have ambushed her with it, but she wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of it, from the way it sounds to me. I think you surprised her when you backed off and then broke off the date. If I was just kissed by a guy I liked and he ran away afterward, I'd be surprised too."

"Awww!" he groaned. "I never thought of it that way!"

"It's alright, it's alright," she said soothingly. "If you want my advice, just wait a while. She's going to call you, baby bro. That's a guarantee. You said she was shy, so it might take her a little time to work up the courage to be so forward, but she will call you. Just wait for her."

"I…okay. I can do that. I'll wait as long as it takes."

"Is she worth it?"

He answered her immediately. "Hell yes," he said fervently. "She's not just beautiful, sis, she's really smart, and she's fascinating. She's gentle, and kind, and considerate. And she loves Vonnegut!"

"Then wait for her, bro," she told him seriously.

"Until hell freezes over."

"Good. Now, I want you to listen to me," she said, very seriously. "I want you to forget about the family. I will keep them the hell away from you. Don't let that affect your decisions about this femme in any way. Do you understand?"

"I wish it were that easy," he sighed.

"Kit, have I ever lied to you?"

"No."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then trust me now. I promise you, I'll take care of it. I'm not going to let them interfere in your happiness. You deserve it."

"I'm not making any promises, but I'll try."

"Okay, now that that's settled," she said, not giving him time to beat himself over it, "did you start looking for apartments, or did you just go out with her today?"

"I have a few good leads on some places," he said. "And no, I don't want your help," he declared.

She laughed. "Well, I can get you something that doesn't come with its own forms of life lurking in the fridge, Kit. Trust me, I've seen what some people try to pass off as apartments."

"I can guarantee you I've both seen and lived in worse, sis," he said calmly.

"I guess you have," she chuckled. "But the offer's there, Kit. You're a phone call away from a decent apartment, whenever you need it."

"I'm happy you're thinking of me, Vil, but I'll manage. I've managed all this time on my own just fine. Trust me."

"Alright. I think I'll let you go, baby bro, but you'd better not brood or sulk. If I catch you doing it, I'm gonna fly down there and spank you."

"I'll try not to," he chuckled.

"Okay, bro. I have some work to finish up before tomorrow, so I'll talk to you later."

"Love you sis."

"I love you too, bro. Bye."


Vilenne turned off the phone, silent a long moment, tapping the antenna of the phone against her muzzle. She then got up and went to her desk, and sat down. There, in an open manila folder, was the entire life history of one Jessica Desdemona Williams.

Marcus had been both efficient and speedy. In just one day, and on a Sunday, no less, he had found a girl whose name he did not know and dug up absolutely everything there was to know about her. Family history, her school records, her health records, everything. All of it was right there for Vilenne to peruse, an entire life rendered down into a series of records and reports. Dean's List student at the University of Texas, pursuing a Bachelor's Degree in English. Honors student who graduated fifth in her class from Southside High School in Cincinnati, Ohio. Daughter of John and Hannah Williams, both cats, but Hannah's father was a fox, which meant that Jessica was a mixed species. It certainly didn't show, from looking at her picture. She looked like she was all cat.

There was nothing in that folder that dissuaded Vilenne in any way about wanting to see her brother chase her. But, that wasn't why she'd had Marcus find out about her. All the other reports were just Marcus being thorough, the only thing that Vilenne had really been after was the girl's address and telephone number.

Not yet. If she called out of the blue, it might scare this girl away from her brother, and she wouldn't allow that. Her brother had had a very hard life, and she'd be damned if she would screw up his chance to find a little happiness.

She knew exactly how to play it.

She punched up a phone number with her thumb and put the receiver to her ear. "Hey Vicki, how you been? No, I'm afraid this isn't a chitchat call. I need a favor," she said. "It's going to be a bit strange, but humor me, okay?" A pause. "Cool beans, Vicki. Now listen. I need you to run a story for me, but it's important you put my picture in it with color. No, I don't know what kind of story. Make something up. Dig something out of the files or call the shipyards or something. What's important is that my picture is in the paper, the picture is in color, and the article is somewhere where a college student will find it. You have a close-up color picture of me in your files? Good." A pause. "No, Vicki, it has to be in color. It does no good at all if it's in black and white." A pause. "Well, tell your editor if you do this for me, Vilenne Vulpan will owe your paper a big favor. And if that doesn't work, then tell him to call me and tell him I'll pay for it. Say, double your normal advertiser's fee for the space taken up by the article?" A pause. "Since when has journalistic integrity had anything to do with the newspaper business?" Vilenne laughed after a pause. "This is important to me, Vicki. It's very important. More important than money." A pause. "It has to be either tomorrow or Tuesday. I can't stress it enough, Vicki. It's really important." A pause. "No, this has nothing to do with business. This is personal."

She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Well, I guess it is too late to get it in tomorrow's paper. No, Tuesday works just fine. I guess I can do an interview if you want to do something real. Sure, bring a photographer, he can take a shot of me in my office. But can you guarantee it's in by Tuesday? Thanks a ton, Vicki. You're a lifesaver." A pause. "Well, I think I could swing that, but I'll still owe you a big favor on top of it." She laughed. "Yeah, it's that important to me, Vicki. You too. Send me the a copy of the paper when you print it, okay? I'd like to see it," she chuckled. "You too. Take care, hon. Bye-bye."

There, that should get the ball rolling down there in Austin.

Kit had tried to explain his family to her, but didn't think she'd believe him. Well, let her see just who Kit was related to, and it should all fall right into place.


There was a lot to do and not much time. Besides, it kept him from carrying the phone around with him in his paw all the time. He kept himself completely busy, doing his best to try to not think about JD, even though everything he was doing was directly because of her. She was the only reason he wasn't getting ready to get on a bus for points west, points unknown. She was the only reason he wanted to stay in Austin, because it was where she was. And he had a lot to do. A femme that beautiful, that sweet, that wonderful needed someone much better than the fox he was right now. After all, he was homeless. What kind of embarrassment would he be to her when her friends asked about him? After all, she'd have enough to worry about when he eventually broke down and told her the whole truth about him and his family.

If she didn't run away screaming at that point, or laugh in his face.

He still had no idea how he was going to explain it. It was just so, so, ridiculous. He could hear himself now: "Oh, by the way, JD, I'm from one of the richest families in America, but I've been disowned and I don't even have a home. And by the way, my family would probably want to kill both me and you if they ever found out I'm dating you." Oh yeah, that was going to go over so well.

But he'd have to find a way. She deserved to know the truth, and she was worth the effort. God, was she worth it.

Monday morning was very, very busy. He was up at five, before dawn, and hit the floor running. His first stop was Wal-Mart, where he bought clothes that he felt looked decent enough for him to go job-hunting; a white dress shirt, a pair of black slacks, a nice tie and belt, and a respectable pair of shoes. Then he stopped by a Staples near the mall and picked out a cheap yet tasteful portfolio to carry his laptop and whatever papers he needed or collected. After he got his business clothes all in order, he banged out something of a decent-looking resume on his laptop and ran it down to Kinko's and had them print him ten copies on good quality gray paper.

All that was done before 9:30am.

As soon as 9:30 hit, he was on the phone. He'd always felt that 9:30 was the best time to make these kinds of calls, since it gave the people in the offices a chance to settle in, but got to them before they got too busy with other things. His first call was to Lone Star, the magazine looking for a researcher. The receptionist was a male, which surprised him a little, and directed his call to the fur in charge of hiring.

"Uh, yes sir, I was calling about the ad you placed on Monster for the researcher's position. Is it still available?"

"Yessir, it is," he said in a heavy Texas drawl. "Pardon my pointing this out, but you don't sound like you're local, son."

Kit chuckled. "I'm in Austin now, sir. Might I come and hand in my resume today?"

"You certainly may. When you get to the office, just tell the fluffy fella at the front desk you're here to see Rick. That's me. I'd rather you hand it to me yourself, that way I know it don't get lost or nothin'."

"Rick," he said to himself, writing it down on a little memo pad he kept in his backpack. "Thank you very much, sir. I should have my resume to you in an hour."

"I'll be waitin'."

It wasn't wise to put all his eggs in that basket, but that was also the only company for which he'd gotten a phone number. The rest were all faxes, post office boxes, websites, much less personal means of contact. But, now that the phone call was made, it was time to get busy with all that other stuff. It was nearly an hour's bus ride down to the south side of Austin, near the university. Lone Star Magazine was headquartered on Congress Avenue, which was the main avenue that ran right up to the capitol building. In fact, it was only two blocks from the capitol to the south, only five blocks from the south end of the U.T. campus. It was a very old building, he could see, done in late 19th century architecture with heavy stone blocks and sculpted corners, with tall, narrow windows on all five stories. It was a multi-office building, with some oil company on the first floor, Lone Star on the second, and some trading company taking up the top three. The security guard in the lobby directed him to the stairs–he never rode in an elevator unless he had to, he hated them–and found himself in a large receiving room with bright red carpet, blue walls, and the Texas flag painted on the wall behind the reception desk along with LONE STAR MAGAZINE blocked above and below it. The receptionist was a sheep, his wooly fur meticulously combed and organized, and the male was actually wearing makeup.

Well…he was indeed "fluffy," but now he saw that the male he talked to on the phone meant the word in a much less literal sense.

"May I help you?" he asked in an effeminate voice.

"Yes, I'm here to see Rick."

"Down the office, last door on the left."

The office to which he'd been directed was a nightmare of clutter. Books, files, sheafs of notes, they were stacked almost everywhere. An oil painting of some badger in an old uniform was on the wall, and there was an antique desk made of mahogany on the far side of the office, with two chairs between it and the door. Behind that desk sat a dog with very unusual, almost calico-like fur pattern, a riot of reds, whites, browns, and tans all looking like some mad painter had used him as an easel. He had a patch of white over his left eye, and a streak of brown over his nose and crossing over his right. His chin fur was a little shaggy, showing his age, and he glanced up just slightly. Then he did a double-take and gave Kit a long look, probably either looking at his eye or his ear, Kit supposed. He was used to it. "And what can I do for you, sir?" he asked.

"I'm here to turn in a resume," he answered. "May I come in?"

The dog laughed. "A resume? Really? Is this some kind of joke?"

"Uh, no, sir," Kit said uncertainly. "We talked on the phone just a little while ago."

"Well," he hummed, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingertips together. "Well, well, well. I always wondered what happened to you. I'll admit, I'm a bit surprised to see you standing at my door."

"Excuse me?"

"Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan the third," he said with a slight smile, then he put his paws behind his head and clunked his feet up on his desk. "The disowned rebel of the Vulpan family."

Kit blanched, almost taking a step back. Of course he might have heard of his family, he was in the magazine business! "I, uh, I…You're not going to hold it against me, are you?" he asked, almost pleadingly.

The dog laughed. "Of course not! So, you have a resume to hand in, do you? Can I see it?"

Kit stepped in and opened his portfolio, and took out a manila folder holding a copy of his resume. He stepped up and took it out, and handed it to the dog.

"Have a seat," he said absently as he put his feet down and started reading. Kit seated himself, grabbing hold of the end of his tail and wringing it nervously as he tried to calm down. This guy knew about him, knew that he'd been disowned. When people did that, knew who he was, they either asked him a million questions or treated him like a live snake. Even when they said it didn't bother them, it still did anyway, thinking that Kit just wasn't like them. But how was this male going to handle it? Was he going to give Kit a fair shake?

"So, despite the fact that you obviously wrote this this morning, tell me. What brought you to Austin? And why do you want to work here?"

"I've been traveling around since I graduated from college," Kit answered. "Just staying in a place a while, then moving on. And when I got here, something about the town just told me I needed to stay for a while. There's a lot to see here. So I'm trying to find a real job instead of what I've been doing. You know, restaurants and such."

"I see. History, eh?"

"Yes sir. I'm used to doing extensive research. It's kinda necessary in the history business."

"That's a definite plus. You have some copies of your research work?"

"Not with me, but I can give you a website that has it all archived. U-Mass keeps it all in their E-library."

"I'll definitely want to look it over before I call you back," he said, his voice professional. "What we are, Mister Vulpan, is a college magazine, about the college crowd, and for the college crowd. I'm the main editor of this little expedition. I also own the magazine. Lone Star is circulated mainly on campus and in town, College Station, and we just started shipping to San Antonio. I like to have my reporters and staff to either be young or understand the college lifestyle, and I think you fit both bills in that regard. Though you're not familiar with the University of Texas, you are from a pretty big school, so you know what it's like."

"Yes sir. I lived in the dorm when I was at U-Mass, and I played my share of Half Life."

He chuckled. "Good. Now, what kind of research you'd do if I hired you is both normal research and also field work. You'd do your share of hunting down facts and statistics, but I'd also send you out to the college to gather information directly from the students. You have any problem talking to strangers?"

"None at all, sir."

"Good. Since we're also rather small, there's a chance I might ask you to do some writing, maybe even some photography. I only have six people on staff, so we all do what we can, when we can. But none of my people are accomplished researchers, so that would be your main focus. Since you're a history major, you know how to put together an essay and make it logical, but have you done any other writing?"

"Well, I kept a journal when I was out on the road," he said. "If you want, you can use that to judge my ability to write outside of the college format."

"Excellent. You need to send it to me."

"I have it right here," he said, reaching into his portfolio and pulling out his laptop. "Do you have a wireless network?"

"It's firewalled against outside machines, but I have a flash drive handy," he said, reaching into his desk and taking out a small USB flash drive.

Kit turned on the laptop and kept half an eye on it as Rick Sanders kept talking. "You ever done any photography?"

"Not professional, sir. But I can take normal pictures." His laptop finished booting, so he inserted the flash drive and prepared to copy the 7 journal files over to the flash drive, one for each month he was on the move.

"Do you know how to use Word?"

He nodded. "Both Word and Excel."

"You have any experience with Photoshop?"

"No sir, the most computer work I did was making Powerpoint slideshows for my presentations."

"Do you have any skills you think I might find useful in a magazine publishing environment?"

"Well, no, not really, sir," he admitted honestly. "Well. I took some accounting and business classes, but I don't think they'd be much help here. And I do have a pilot's license. I'm not sure how much help that'd be around here, but if you ever get an airplane, I can fly you somewhere in it."

"What kind of hobbies do you have, Mister Vulpan?"

"Well, I can play a guitar a little and I like to sing. I love to read, anything and everything, and I enjoy listening to music."

"what kind?"

"ABR, sir. Anything But Rap."

Sanders laughed. "I'm a country man, myself."

"I'm not all that big on modern country. It seems like it tries too hard to be like pop music," Kit noted. "I like older country, from the 80's back. That's when country was best."

"Son, you just made a friend," Sanders laughed. "Who's your favorite old timers?"

"My favorite old musicians are probably Alabama and Tammy Wynette," he said.

"You like any of the new groups?"

"Well, Big and Rich are kind of interesting," he noted. "It's country with a sense of humor. That's fresh. Outside of them, it's all sort of cookie-cutter music."

"Amen, amen," he nodded. "Now, you have to answer a question for me. It might be a little personal, so if it offends you, I'm sorry in advance."

"Go ahead, sir."

"What happened to you?"

"Excuse me?"

"The accident. I remember reading about it in Furs. You were hit by a car, and your father refused to pay for your hospital bills. It said in the story you'd been disowned since you were sixteen. Did that all work out?"

Kit sighed, scrubbing the back of his head with the short claws on his fingers. "Well, mostly," he said. "My sister paid my bills, and the scandal basically embarrassed my father into not doing anything about it."

"That wasn't what I was asking, son," he chuckled. "Did it all work out between you and your family?"

He looked down. "It did after my father died," he said bluntly. "I was at the funeral. I watched them put that old bastard in the ground, and it was the first time in my life I ever felt free. It worked out for me, sir. I'm through with them."

He was quiet a long moment, and Kit felt a little stupid and chagrined for saying that. Oh, sure, that was a way to try to impress someone that could give you a decent job.

"Well, we all have family problems at one time or another," he said with a slight smile. "I'll look over your papers and your journal and see what kind of work you do, and give you a call back either tonight or tomorrow."

"I, thank you, sir," Kit said, standing up. The dog stood up as well, and they shook paws.

Kit left feeling a little uncertain. He asked that question, Kit answered before he thought about it, then he was hustled out the door. He had a feeling that Lone Star was a bust.


The rest of the day was busy. He spent a great deal of time of it in the Austin Public Library, using and abusing their computers and their fax machine. He sent out resumes to 29 different companies in the Austin area, jobs ranging from researching at Lone Star to an apprentice welding opening for Cubrin Metalworking, anything that paid a decent salary that he was even remotely qualified to do.

And he sent them out, he wondered how many of the people who read his resume would recognize his name, and immediately throw his resume in the garbage thinking it was either a joke or there was no way they'd hire someone like him, some rich kid that they couldn't depend on because he didn't need the money.

His name. He should have changed the damn thing, but that was like a thousand dollars, and there was no way he could afford something like that. So he was stuck with it, at least for now.

He kept himself so busy that he didn't realize that it was sunset when he left the library. He hadn't eaten all day, so he stopped at the first fast food joint he came across, a Burger King on Congress Avenue, across from the campus. Kit had a thing for hamburgers. They were his favorite food, and if there was a hamburger on the menu no matter where he went, that's what he got. After growing up eating the exotic food of the rich, he had a love of the simple food of normal people, food that didn't have French names, or served on gold-laminated china in geometric patterns for artistic flair.

Food that wasn't tiny.

He dropped down at a table near the counter and dug in, eating with a haste that came with hunger. He was almost finished with his burger when the phone in his pocket rang, and he literally threw it down, his heart leaping. Was it JD, finally calling him back? "Hello?" he called in excitement.

"Heya, Rick Sanders here," came the voice on the other side of the connection. "I looked over your papers and your journal, Vulpan, and it's good stuff. Your capstone was very well done, but I was much more impressed by your journal. It's what I'd expect my journalism graduates to put out."

"Thank you, Mister Sanders," he said, trying not to sound so giddy.

"Rick. Only my pastor calls me Mister Sanders. You said that research was a job requirement for a history major, and you proved it. And you have the writing skills to do some actual writing if I need it in a pinch. So, why don't you drop by the office tomorrow and we'll hammer out the details."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm offering you the job, son. Anyone who can dig up ancient Roman manuscripts to use as references for a capstone certainly knows how the hell to do research. But I still say you went into the wrong major. You'd have been one hell of a reporter."

"Really? That's great!" he said explosively, almost standing up. "And I thought I'd butchered it when you asked about my family," he admitted.

"Actually, that's what convinced me. It proved that you were serious about living your own life, son, away from your family name. I didn't want someone that was gonna pack up and run home as soon as the job got hard. What you said showed me you're in it for the long haul."

"Well, I'm in it for a couple of years at any rate," he said impulsively.

"Be here at nine, Mister Vulpan. We'll talk about your salary, and if you take the job, we'll get your paperwork done."

"Kit, sir. Everyone calls me Kit."

"Kit it is," he chuckled. "See you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Rick," Kit said with total sincerity. "This chance means a lot to me."

"Well, let's see what you can do with it. I'm on my way out the door, son, so have a good evening. Bye."

Kit closed the phone, and had to resist the urge to let out a whoop right there in the restaurant. He had a real job! He threw away the burger he'd thrown on the table, not hungry anymore, and speed-dialed Vil as he was rushing out of the restaurant. "Hello?"

"I got a job, sis!" he cried loudly and happily, almost bowling over a skunk femme and a coyote male as they were walking into the restaurant. "Lone Star Magazine hired me to do research!"

"That's great, bro!" she said happily. "What kind of salary?"

"We're gonna talk about that tomorrow," he answered, stopping on the sidewalk near the parking lot. "But it's gotta be better than the Double J!"

She laughed. "No doubt. Don't just cave, bro. You're good at what he hired you to do, so don't settle for his first offer. You know how to research, so research. Find out how much other researchers make, and take it to 'em! Show 'em how good of a researcher you are!"

"I'll do that," he promised. "God, it feels good. Now JD won't be totally embarrassed about me."

"Has she called you back yet?"

"Not yet," he said. "I hope she calls soon, though. I'm like dying here waiting for her to call."

"She will, baby bro, just be patient. Well, you got a job. Now find a place to live."

"I'll get on that first thing tomorrow after I'm done at the magazine. I need to go find a wireless hotspot, sis, so I can dig up that research. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You bet. Give 'em hell, bro!" she said enthusiastically.

He said his goodbyes and closed the phone, then almost ran down the street. He had to go back to the Java Joint and get on that, so he could walk into Rick's office tomorrow armed with all the facts to get a good salary out of him.

He'd show them just how good of a researcher he was.


"Sam? Sammy, hello?" the coyote called, poking the female skunk in the shoulder.

"Oh, sorry," she said, watching the fox tear down the street.

"You know that guy?"

"I kinda do, yeah," she answered. "He went out with one of my roommates yesterday. It didn't end very well."

"What happened?"

"From what JD told me, he kissed her, and he backed off and left, when she didn't want him to. She said he seemed scared to death about something, but she wouldn't tell me what."

"Sounds a little weird."

"Yeah, so far everything about that guy is weird."

"You heard what he said, didn't you? He said JD wouldn't be embarrassed about him now."

"Yeah, he did say that," she said musingly, putting a finger to her muzzle. "Hon, mind if we call it a little short? I think I need to go talk to JD."

"Sure, I don't mind, sweets. How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow sounds just fine. Thanks for being so understanding."

"I know that a femme just can't sit on juicy gossip," he grinned. "I can't compete with I have got to get home and tell JD all about this."

Sam laughed, patting him on the arm. "Call me, okay?"

"You know it."


The phone stood there, mocking her.

Jessie sat on her bed, wearing nothing but an oversized Alpha Xi Omega sorority nightshirt, staring at the wireless phone on her nightstand, both desperately wanting to pick it up and too nervous to actually do it. Her stereo was on, tuned to the local pop station, but she really wasn't listening to it. All she could hear was his voice, going over everything that happened the day before.

He asked her to think about it. Well, that's all she did all day. She'd been totally lost in classes today, spaced out and distracted, because all she could think of was him. Every part of the time they'd been together, every word he'd spoken, how nice his paws felt when he held onto hers…how warm and wonderful his kiss was…

She groaned and flopped back on her bed. Why couldn't she do it? He liked her, she knew he did! It wasn't like she didn't know what to expect from him! He gave her his number, for crying out loud!

Ever since she was a kitten, she'd always been like this. She was a very shy kitten, and though her career choice had made her start facing that shyness, when it came to personal things like this, she was just as shy as ever.

It was so silly! He gave her his number, because he didn't want to pressure her. She understood that, given that really strange thing about his family that made him afraid, and after he kissed her like that. It was actually very sweet of him to let her be the one to decide and make the next step. But it meant taking initiative, being bold like Sandy. If it was Sandy, she'd have called him back like ten minutes later! But as more and more time went by, she got more and more nervous.

Sometimes being shy was just a damn curse.

It was easy. All she had to do was get up and go to the phone. The post-it with his number was sticking to her mirror, right there in plain view. Just pick up the phone and dial the number. That's it. Pick up the phone, dial the number. Get up, you silly cat! she thought to herself. Get up! Isn't he worth it? Do you want him to think that you're not interested in him? Do you want him to think that he scared you so much you don't want another date? He didn't, and it's not fair to him to let him think that! So get up right now!

She blew out her breath and did get up. She walked over to the phone, and spent a long moment staring at it, her paws trembling slightly. Then she snatched up the phone and looked up at the number.

Her door banged open, and Sam was there, with Sandy right behind her. She'd been out on a date with her boyfriend, but she shouldn't have been back so soon. "We gotta talk, JD," she said with a slight smile.

"Can it wait? I was about to, uh," she said, holding up the phone slightly.

"So you finally worked up the guts to call him, eh?" Sandy teased. "Be glad, I was coming up here to do it for you!"

Jessie's face ruffled a little, and she glanced away.

"Well, this is about him. I ran into him down at the Burger King a few minutes ago."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he almost ran me over," she laughed. "We heard him talking to his sister on his cell phone. He said he got a new job at Lone Star magazine," she said, then she looked back down the hall quickly, "and from the way it sounded, he got it with you in mind."

"Huh?"

"He said, and I quote, 'maybe now JD won't be embarrassed about me.'"

"See, I told you he was staying in Austin because of you, JD!" Sandy said smugly. "Isn't that romantic? He's giving up on his trip just to be near you!"

"It's almost like a stalker," Sam said. Sandy punched her in the arm. She was not gentle.

"Stalkers don't give out their numbers, Sammy," Sandy said. "I think it's romantic. He took one look at JD, and he decided to stay because he wanted to go out with her, so he went out and got a better job than being a dishwasher, just to impress you."

"Well, I think it's a little strange," Sam noted, rubbing her chin with a single black-furred finger. "But, I do have to admit, from what I heard yesterday, I think he's okay. He told his sister he was dying for you to call him. I think he's maybe trying a little too hard, but he's okay. I'd be careful til you get to know him a little better, JD. Once you're sure he's not a space case, anyway."

Jessie laughed. "There's something he's not telling me," she told them. "He even admitted it. He tried to tell me about his family, and said that I probably wouldn't believe him. And you shoulda heard how he said it! It was something like what I'm about to tell you isn't the whole truth, but a part of it that'll let you understand what I'm trying to tell you."

"He wouldn't be the first guy that didn't like to talk about his family."

"Well, what he said about them wasn't very good."

"Yeah," Sandy agreed. "JD told me he said that his family is a bunch of purists, and they'd have a conniption if they found out he was dating a cat."

"That's what he said, but it was the way he said it," Jessie said musingly. "That wasn't the part he wouldn't tell me, just the part he thought was important for me to know."

"Does it bother you that his family is a bunch of purists?" Sam asked.

"Not really. They all live in Boston, and we're down here. But, it really bothered him," she noted, almost clinically. "I could hear it in his voice. Even see it. He's terrified of his family. I, I think that's why he lived like a homeless vagabond, really. To get away from them, to hide from them. If you don't have an address and move from town to town, how can they keep track of you?"

"Yeah, maybe," Sandy mused. "So, we'll get outta here, and you call him," she prompted, pushing the phone in her paw towards her face. "And take notes," she grinned. "I wanna know! Especially if you two start talking dirty!"

"Oh, out, you!" she commanded, pushing both of them out the door, then slamming it Sandy's face.

But she didn't hesitate this time. She immediately started dialing his number.

It was like Sammy's information broke the wall of her shyness. He was dying for her to call him. He really wanted to see her, she was very impressed with what he was doing where she couldn't see, trying to get a better job just so she wouldn't be dating a dishwasher, and it made her feel wanted, and very, very happy. There was no nervousness at all now.

The phone rang. It rang again. And her heart leaped a little when she heard it pick up. "Hello?"

"Kit?" she asked.

"JD! Hey! I was hoping you'd call…but would you please call me back in about a half an hour? I'm on a bus right now, and I'm the kind that thinks it's very rude to talk on a phone in a public setting. It's disrespectful to the others on the bus."

She giggled. "Sure, I can do that, but you have to do something for me."

"Anything!"

"Don't call me JD unless you're asking for me here at the house. Call me Jessie."

"Jessie it is. Half an hour?"

"Half an hour sounds good to me. I'll be waiting."

"Heh, I'll be sitting here staring at my watch," he said ruefully. "I'm so glad you decided I was worth a second chance, Jessie. Talk to you in thirty. Bye-bye."

"Bye."

She put the phone down, feeling a little giddy. She had talked to him without being shy, even asked him to call her by her name! And he was so polite! He could have just asked her to call him back, but he explained why he wanted it, and his reason was so chivalrous. He was so considerate, even to complete strangers!

She carried the phone back to her bed and sat down on it, pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged on it with her longhaired tail wrapped around her legs, and started staring at her alarm clock.

Thirty minutes…

Chapter 03