FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

My first "yiffy" story. "But wait," you may exclaim, "there's no yiffing!" Well, not yet, no. This is the setup, with the next chapter gettin' it on... Which won't be ready 'til after a trip I'm gonna take.

In the meantime, enjoy a beatdown and lemme know what y'all think of my writin.'

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Few who come to the heat and humidity of the far south pay heed to the fact that even a tourist city still has full-time residents, and that those residents, too, need to occasionally take some time off and relax. Thus, in the warm city that sat beside the largest cluster of theme parks in the nation, one could find all the vices and extravegences of any larger city.

It was these thoughts that went through James' mind as he sat on a barstool in a cramped, smokey, and downright smelly bar that was little more than a hole between a corner store and another, larger, more popular club. But who needs the big ones, when you can get just as wasted for cheaper at a shithole like this? James mused as he brought up his drink from the bar and sipped carefully. The care he shown, of course, was due to the fact that his face was not the flat, smooth form of a human, but the long and somewhat pointed muzzle of a fox.

It's been far too long, anyway, since I came here, James thought as he sipped at his White Russian, savoring the flavor that his improved senses carried to his brain. I'll have to be careful with drinks like these... Something stronger, and the alcohol would be making me sneeze out this schnoz of mine, but with the cream, it's desensitizing.

Just then, someone smacked into his tail as they went about their way through the crowded bar. "Sorry," the man - a human - muttered, somewhat uncaringly. James just shot the man a brief, disgruntled look, and then turned around to look over the crowd. Where the fuck is Mike, anyway? James thought, noting with some satisfaction that the crowd had a fair number of anthropomorphics like him in it.

'Bout time, too, James mused as he turned back to his drink and nursed it a bit more. It's been six months since The Change, so you'd think most of us would've had time to adapt. He thought, of course, of the confounding, illogical, yet utterly real event that had taken nearly fifteen percent of the world's population and turned them into something that had only been thought of in stories and fairy tales.

And by twisted weirdos like me, James added, smirking at the thought. I admit it, bein' a furry fan was - and still is - one weird, freaky, geeky thing. He paused then and sighed. Yet, I love it. Hell, I've been enjoyin' this since the shock wore off.

"Got a problem, son?" A voice asked him, and James looked up from his drink to see the attractive young female that tended the bar. "You've been nursing that thing all night," she added, and then pointed to the tumbler in James' hands.

The fox looked down at the drink briefly, and then looked back at the woman with a light smirk on his face. "I'm fine, actually. It's just that I don't care for getting totally smashed, especially as I gotta watch out for my friend who lives up to his Scottish heritage of getting drunk off of whiskey."

The short woman smiled at that, and she nodded. "Okay then, but remember, there's a two drink minimum, and this is your first one, so you get working on the next one soon," she said with a smirk.

James just smiled back and nodded. "No problem, miss," he replied. Satisfied, the woman turned and headed down the bar to take care of another customer who was banging his empty beer bottle against the counter.

Fucking beer drinkers, James mentally cursed as he took another, larger sip from his drink. Drink that bear piss that's about as strong as a housefly with Parkinson's and yet they think they're manly. He snorted at the thought, but then blushed as his large nasal cavity amplified the sound more than he had intended, and he smiled at the two people sitting on either side of him when they gave him looks.

Six months, and I still gotta get used to some things, the fox mused with a shrug as he returned to his drink. Speaking of getting used to things, I've got to stop letting Michael drag me to these places and then have him duck out with a lady friend, he thought as he surveyed the crowd again. I don't see him, and the smells in here are too bad for me to scent him out. James sighed then and resumed sipping on his drink. I'll finish this and have another to keep the bouncers happy, and then I'm outta here.

* * * *

A fair bit of time later, James was squeezing his way out of the bar's equally-small entrance, getting a fair mix of looks from surprise, to curiosity, to hostility from those waiting to get in. The ones that hurt the most, though, are the piteous ones, the fox thought darkly as he turned and headed down the sidewalk, finally emerging from the heavy crowd around the bar and into the mass of people still walking up and down the downtown club strip.

His goal, however, wasn't any of the other bars or clubs that populated the downtown area, but rather, James headed towards the interstate that ran through the heart of the city, and the parking lots that the enterprising city government had placed underneath the overpasses. There, he had left his car, and he was eager to get back before the time he had paid for ran out. Fucking meter maids are anal when it comes to that, he thought, angrily, as he knew from experience that the enforcement was tight at such places. God forbid that my tax money was enough to pay for the lots' construction, but also I can't be more than a few seconds late to my fucking car.

So involved was he in his mental rant that James startled as he heard a noise from down the street. Stopping, the fox looked up and around, realizing that in his state he had moved off of the main strip in an automatic fashion, and now was in one of the lesser-traveled sidestreets that led to the parking lots. Then he saw several people milling about down at a corner on his side of the street, and he realized that the noise he had heard was a shout.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" A burly man asked harshly of someone who had backed against the fence of a lot bordering the steet, the slurred nature of his voice telling all that he had had a few too many to drink. With him were a pair of similarly-sized men, who seemed to sway a bit, indicating that they, too, were drunk. Around these four persons were several others, grouped in clumps, who had apparently been drawn in by the confrontation, tough none were especially close.

James took in all of this information in an instant, during which the loud drunk had moved forward, closer to the person against the fence. "I asked you a question, freak!" He bellowed, waving his right hand up, which still clung to a brown-bagged bottle. "What's it like, knowing that you're a God-damned mutant?"

James felt his ears fold back against his skull, and he began to walk quickly towards the confrontation. Freak? Mutant? Gee, I wonder what kind of person the drunken fucktard has cornered? He asked himself, though he already knew the answer.

"Look, I just want to go home," the person, a woman, replied, and she edged to the side to get away from the man, slowly bringing herself into the light. James slowed a bit in surprise as he saw that the woman was not only a Changed person, but a vixen as well. However, he resumed his previous speed, and soon was at the outer ring of people.

The drunken man and his two cronies, meanwhile, had advanced further towards the woman, the leader of the three reaching out to grab the vixen's arm with his left hand. "Hey! I didn't say you could go, bitch!"

"You're hurting me!" The woman replied, her eyes wide and ears folded back in fear.

"That's not hurting you," the drunk replied, and then sneered as he brought his right arm down and around, smashing the beer can-holding fist into the side of the vixen's snout. The force wasn't necessarily hard, as the man's lack of coordination, added to the beer can crushing in his palm, served to lessen the impact. It was enough, however, to knock the woman's head around, and she recoiled back to slam against the fence, making it rattle.

It was also enough to make James dash forward. "Hey, shithead!" He called out as he brought up his right arm and cocked it back. As he intended, the call had brought the drunken man's head around, thus presenting James with his target, and he let his fist fly.

The blow was quick, but aimed from the shoulder to the point that James knew would cause the most pain; the man's nose. His fist came in and connected with the side of the nose even as the drunk pivoted his head around, coming left so that his turning amplified the force of the blow, and the appendage made a sickening 'crunch' as the cartilage broke asunder under the strain.

"Hey!" One of the other drunks called out, his alcohol-addled mind starting to work out that another person had come into the altercation. He reached out as well, but James had already drawn back from the slugging he had given the big man, and the fox whirled about, deliberately and instinctually whipping his tail about to distract his foes. The rapid shift of mass also allowed James to quickly deliver a left-handed rabbit punch to the second drunk's solar plexus, which unbalanced the human. With his equillibrium destroyed by the legal intoxicant, the drunk fell over, his breath leaving him in an explosive 'pah.'

Meanwhile, though, the third man had gotten behind James, and he threw a punch aimed for the back of the fox's head. Forunately for James, though, the man's drunken state, plus the fact that he had shifted forward to punch the other man, threw the aim off, and the blow glanced off of the side of James' head. It still hurt, though, and the fox automatically yelped out in pain.

However, James wasn't hurt as bad as the noise would have led others to think, and he turned around warily to face the third man, who was unable to capitalize on his position as his lack of balance bade him to spend his effort to simply standing up in the wake of his attack. The fox took good advantage of this, and he snapped up his right fist and again delivered a crushing blow to a nose. The crack of breaking cartilage and the scream of pain accompanied the man's fall to the ground, where he curled up in pain.

Then things became suddenly still, as all three drunks were lying on the ground, though the first and largest one was starting to stand up slowly. James galnced over to the vixen then, who had simply stood still in shock throughout the brief fight. "Are you okay?" He asked of her.

It wasn't the lady who replied, though, but the burly man standing up. "You won't be when I'm done with you, you little ass-sniffing flea-bitten dog fucker," he slurred out, his voice somewhat nasally from the fact that his sinuses were blocked with blood and cartilage. However, when the tall human turned to face James, his tough demeanor evaporated, as James had turned to face the man fully, his teeth bared, ears laid back, and hands open to display the claws that had replaced his fingernails. Then the fox-man growled briefly, causing the other man to start.

"Now, you look here you neo-Nazi reject," James managed to grit out after regaining control of his emotions enough to stop growling. "I am about five seconds from ripping your throat out and eating it. So do yourself a favor and get out of here now, or I'll show you just how 'freaky' I can be."

To his credit, the bloody man took the hint, and he backed away from the pair of Changed persons briefly before he turned around and started to run off crookedly. The two men on the ground took this as their cue, and they both crawled away from James a bit before they, too, staggered to their feet and then jogged off.

Again, things became still, and James took a moment to close his eyes and breathe deep, willing his body and emotions back under control. After a few moments of this, he became aware of the mutterings coming from the people gathered around the scene, and more importantly, the soft sobs from the woman he had come to help.

The latter were what made him open his eyes again, and James turned to see the fox-woman leaning against the fence, one arm up over her face, covering her eyes. The sobs quicky slowed into sniffles, and James walked over and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he began quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Give me a minute, and I will be," the woman replied, her voice quiet, but strong. James gave a nonverbal grunt, and he turned away from her to give a baleful look at the people around them. The way they stared, and still stood there, doing nothing, made his blood boil. "Am I the only person in this fucking city who can get off their ass and help someone?" He yelled at them, his ears going back again as he swept his gaze along the line, causing most everyone to blush in embarraassment. "God help you all when the next hurricane comes along, because looters won't think twice about beating the living shit out of you."

"Fuck you, animal," someone said from in the back of the group. James whirled about and quickly focused on the direction that the voice had come from, but he didn't see anyone with the face that showed the kind of defiance that would have accompanied such a statement. "Come out here and say that, you bastard," the fox snarled, and then waited. When no one came out, he snorted derisively. "Thought so. I may be an animal, but you're a fucking coward, you craven, frightened little shit.

"As for the rest of you," he continued, looking around again, though his anger had bled away with the chewing out he had given the faceless man. "Show's over. Go back to killing your brain with booze and get out of my face."

It took a moment, but soon, people began to drift off, turning and leaving in groups, talking to each other about one thing or another, some making rather rude comments about James and all Changed people. The fox ignored them, however, and then turned to face the vixen once again, a bit surprised to see her standing there, looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face. He blushed then - a curious mix of animalistic ears-folding-back, and human blood-rushing-to-the-face - and shook his head. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, somewhat ashamed, as his white-furred cheeks took on a pinkish twinge.

"No, it's all right," she replied, her voice still quiet. "It's just... I don't think I've seen anyone like you- er, like us, act the way you did." She blushed at this, and then shuddered a bit. "That, and the way you told everyone off."

James couldn't help but grin ruefully. "Yeah, I have a temper, I guess," he said, and then reached up to rub where the drunk's fist had smacked into his head. He winced a bit at the touch, but was relieved to feel that it wasn't all that heavily bruised. "But anyway, are you okay now?"

She nodded, her expression still inscrutible. "I am, a bit," she said and then looked down at the ground. James realized, then, that she was still struggling with herself, and he leaned his head forward a bit. "Do you want some company back to your car?" He asked, cautiously. "You know, in case those assholes decide to come back?"

The vixen looked up at that, and she managed a faint smile. "I would, but I don't have a car. I live in an apartment a few blocks from here," she said, and then shuddered again as her smile faded. "I... I don't want to be a bother... But could you, uh..."

"Walk you there?" James asked, and then smiled when she nodded. "I'd be glad to, though I'll have to ask for a detour, if you don't mind; my car's meter is gonna be running out soon."

"Oh," she replied, blinking. Then she ventured another, fragile smile. "Well, if you want, the building I live in has a few extra spaces for visitors..." She let her voice trail off then, and she glanced away.

James, though, just blinked. "You sure about that?" He asked, softly. "You don't know me."

"I know that you're the only person out of a few dozen who came to help me," she replied, quickly. "The only people who help strangers are people who can be trusted for a little bit, at least."

James thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Alright, if you don't mind a messy car floor, then," he said with a faint smirk. "Why don't we go before the cops finally get off their asses and come to the report of a fight?" She didn't argue.

* * * *

The walk to the car and the subsequent drive were unharried, for which James was grateful, as was he for the quiet nature of the vixen, who had only said a few brief acknowledgements or phrases since they had left the scene of the fight. The reason for the latter was due to the fact that the alcohol he had imbibed earlier was already making it hard for him to concentrate, and the slowly-increasing pounding that came from where he had been punched also worked to distract him. Damn glad I can exert some conscious control over myself when I'm not too plastered, Jim thought as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the lady's apartment building. Still, I'll be glad to sleep this off.

A few moments later, the car was parked, and James climbed out of the car and started to walk over to the passenger side, though he was preempted by the vixen climbing out by herself. Curious, she peered at him. "Were you actually coming over to open my door?" she asked, incredulous, causing James to blush. "Uh... Yeah," he replied, sheepishly.

The woman smiled at him, and she shut the door to his old import before speaking again. "Well, I appreciate it, but you've done enough already," she said in a friendly tone, and then began to walk towards the front entrance of the large building, though she halted when she saw that James had turned back to his car and opened the door to the back seat. "What are you doing?" She asked, curious.

"Huh?" James muttered, and then looked up at the vixen. His mind took a moment to process the informatio before he replied. "Oh, well, my head's pounding from being smacked, and I've had a few, so I'm just gonna sleep a bit and hope I'll feel better in the morning."

"But... In your car?" She asked, incredulous. James, though, just shrugged off her question. "I've slept in it before. Not all that comfortable, to be sure, but better than smashing into something on the way home because I'm getting more and more tired and can't focus myself on driving properly."

The lady stood there for a moment, her mind apparently working on something, though James was, as stated, a bit out of it and didn't care. Instead, he took a moment to look over the vixen. He noted, in approval, that her above knee-length skirt gave a good view of her digitigrade legs, and that her coat and shirt were small enough to give a good outline of her reasonably-endowed chest, while at the same time weren't so tight that they made her seem slutty.

She said something then, and James shook his head out of his daydreaming. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked, and then yawned as he waited for an answer.

The vixen smirked slightly, but also blushed. "I was saying, if you want... Well, my apartment - almost a condo, really - is pretty big, and I have a couch if you want to sleep somewhere more comfortable tonight."

James blinked hard at that, and she shook his head. "Ma'am, please, you don't know me," he said, and paused as a sense of deja vu went over him. "I really think you should just go on up and forget about me."

"No, please," the vixen replied, and she stepped closer, her long brown hair fluttering behind her as she walked up to James. "I wouldn't be able to sleep at all, knowing that the guy who rescued me was getting a back ache from sleeping in a tiny European car."

James fidgeted a bit as she drew close, and he felt his ears sliding down on the back of his head. "Er, well," he stuttered, and then looked her in the face, and was starteled by the open, inviting look he saw in her deep blue eyes. "Well... Just so long as your'e sure there won't be any problems, like, with the management, or something," he said, relenting.

The woman smiled then, and she nodded as she turned towards the front of the building. "Well, come on then," she said, gently. James sighed and spared only a moment to lock his car before he followed her, catching up to the vixen as she reached the front doors. There, he saw that the place was a classy one, as it was locked at night and needed a magnetic key to open the doors, which the nameless vixen quickly produced from her purse.

The good impressions continued, as James followed the woman through the small but well-kept lobby, and the elevator they took up several floors was devoid of the crappy muzak that plagued office buildings.

A short walk down a carpeted hallway later, and the pair were in front of the vixen's door. James looked around uncomfortably as she looked for her keys in her purse, and he cleared his throat. "Are you sure you don't mind?" He asked, anxiously. "I mean, I'm sure I could probably drive home if you-"

"If you don't want to, you don't have to," the vixen interrupted in a huff, and she turned to face James as she crossed her arms, the keys dangling from a hand. "I'm just trying to be nice, because you did an exceedingly nice thing for me. But if you think I'm... Too ugly to be around-"

Now it was James' turn to interrupt. "You're not ugly," he said, with a bit of vehemance in his tone. "And I didn't do that thing because I wanted a place to sleep, or anything, so I want to make sure that you're not feeling some sort of excessive obligation towards me that's making you do something out of character."

The vixen paused then, and she looked over his face with an inscrutible expression. Finally, though, she spoke again, her voice low but gentle. "I can't help but feel obligated," she began, but then held up a hand to forgo any interruption. "But nor am I doing this solely out of obligation to you. I would offer my couch to any of my friends, and though I may not know you, I know that you must be a good person, worthy of trust, if you were willing to fight three men at once to keep me from being harmed."

James stood there for a moment, though he wobbled a bit as tiredness and alcohol conspired to rob him of his balance. He sighed then, and nodded. "Okay... I'm just... I don't like imposing on anyone."

"And you aren't," the vixen replied, turning around to unlock the door. "As I said, I have more than enough room for someone to sleep on the couch." With that, she opened the door and moved inside, pausing only to bid James to follow.

Follow he did, and he looked over the moderately-sized apartment. She's right, it really is almost like a condo, he observed as the vixen locked the door behind them. A tiny kitchen opened up on the right side of the living room, and a small hallway on the left side led off to what he assumed to be a bathroom and the bedroom of the place. Then he spied the couch, and began to move towards it as he felt his energy drain off as the last vestiges of adrenalin wore off. "If you don't mind, I'm just gonna conk out right now," he said, and then climbed onto the large, brown vinyl sofa.

"It's all right," the vixen replied, adn she turned to head for the hallway on the left. "Goodnight."

"G'night," James returned, and he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Though, one last thought plagued him before unconsciousness rose up to claim the night.

Wait a minute, what the Hell is her name?