Shield
The constant clink of half-full glasses, sloshing with blue and burgundy liquids. It was the first thing that greeted the senses. Aside from the collected body heat. Intoxicating, stove-cooked scents, and even more intoxicating tastes (sure to be had, if you sought them out). Silverware tapping against piping-hot plates. Like an abstract, orchestral accompaniment to the warm, overlapping chitter-chatter of voices in the dim, bar-like setting. Candles were lit here and there, in the middle of the tail-occupied tables, adding a lazy, hazy glow.
Not cultured enough, in Annika's mind, to be considered an actual restaurant, though. Based on the crowd. The location. It tried, but ... no, this was an ‘eatery.' Definitely an eatery. The equivalent of a diner for shuttle-pilots. Not that I'm a snob or anything, she told herself. But I do have my standards.
Adele, beside her, in a hesitant, sweeping motion, brought her paws up. And removed the parka-hood from her head. Pushing it back, back, until those angular ears were cocked and free. Swiveling. Her muzzle, meanwhile, scrunching. One of those ‘cute rodent faces,' Annika noted. She'd seen it from Dennison numerous times. "I don't see who we're looking for," the red squirrel insisted, whiskers a-twitch. Large, bushy tail flittering from base to tip. Like a furry flag.
"He's here," the snow rabbit whispered, certainly. Tall, charcoal-tipped ears twiddling for a moment. And then stopping just as soon. Squinting, also, but in steelier fashion, as she scanned the interior. Having to side-step, eventually, to avoid a waiter. She bowed her head in a regal, non-verbal ‘pardon me.' Before immediately looking back up.
"How do you know?"
"Mm?" A blink. "Because he said he would be. That he would ‘come to us' ... not the other way around. He does not wish to draw attention." A pause. "He deals on the black market, after all."
Zipping her parka a little higher (it was damn cold out there, and she swore it was lingering in her bones), the red squirrel, beginning to fidget, insisted, "Look, if we're gonna have to wait ... let's get near a wall or something. Or that booth in the corner. I wanna sit down." She pointed with an auburn-furred, padded paw. "I don't like standing. Everyone's looking at us ... " A tiny squeak. Neurotically asking, " ... am I twitching too much? Do you think? I mean, I know I have that problem, but ... "
"You are, yes," was Annika's blunt, logical response. "And only two-thirds of the clientele are actually looking in our direction. Not all of them."
A squeaky-huff. Not reassured by that, and not bothering to say anything further. Just taking the snow rabbit's ungloved paw in her own. Tugging her aside. Leading her toward a less crowded area.
"You realize, that by holding my paw and guiding me to an isolated booth, you are making us look like a ‘couple' ... " A cheeky pause. "You could have at least allowed me to lead. I am no doubt more dominant than you."
A roll of her eyes. " ... muzzle it."
"Only if you behave," was the simple, witty response.
The squirrel let go of her friend's paw. Whiskers twitching. "Anyway, we're total opposites, and," she stressed, sliding into one side of an empty booth, " ... and ... we both have males back on Majestic. We're not a couple."
Annika sat, as well. But more primly. Properly. Bobtail flickering lightly. "Yes. But I know how Arctic hares think. They are close enough to rabbits ... " A certain nod. " ... close enough for me to know: the first thing on their minds is sex. You can almost smell it. No doubt there are ‘side rooms' in this establishment. They are probably soundproof, but ... "
" ... that the first thing on your mind, then? Right now?"
"Sex?" Annika turned her gaze squarely to the chief engineer. "The first?" she echoed, playfully, not exactly answering the question. Just repeating it. Which, basically, was answer enough.
The squirrel, cheeks getting hot, didn't push for more. Suddenly embarrassed. " ... w-well, anyway," she stammered, " ... uh ... "
" ... how are things between you and the Captain?" Annika asked. "You did not talk about him the whole shuttle ride."
"Fine. They're fine."
"Fine?"
" ... well ... I mean, we don't have an agreement yet. We're still sorta ... "
" ... friends with much and many ... daily benefits?"
"I wouldn't call it that."
"What would you call it?"
A hesitation. Muttering bashfully. " ... we just happen to, uh ... bump into each other. Literally. A lot."
A mew of mirth.
"I mean, he's only doing it with me." A pause. "I'm pretty sure. Uh ... I guess. I know I'm only doing it with him." A shy, vulnerable pause. "It's just so comfortable right now, you know? We've got this routine down ... this thing." She seemed so sweetly innocent as she confessed this.
A quiet nod from the snow rabbit.
"I'm afraid to push it. Afraid of messing it up, now ..."
" ... understandable. You needn't explain. I'm fairly open-minded."
"I know. I, uh ... and I appreciate that. You have a broad approach to things." A pause. "But my nature is such that ... I like a little definition, you know? Something tighter, with meaning. With concept." A breath. "I want to know what we are. Him and me. I want to know, and I want it validated. Somehow. Internally and," she stressed, blowing out air, "externally."
"As I suggested the other day: the surest way to get him to commit to you fully ... is for him to think he's going to lose you."
"I know. But I've been thinking about that, and ... " A head-shake. " ... it's too risky to force it. Like, to force prospective mates into corners? Especially when they're a prey species? It gets them panicky. Well, at least it does with rodents. I know snow rabbits claim not to feel things, but ... I know you do. I don't want to force a reactionary decision. I've made too many of those ... you know, on my end."
" ... that is a valid concern." She folded her paws on the tabletop. "So, that is what you believe of yourself? As a rule?"
"What?"
"That you make decisions," the rabbit said, privately, "without thinking ... based on emotion and illogic?"
"I was in heat," the squirrel defended. "That first time. I mean ... if Humphrey had come through the door," she said, of one of the other male snow rabbits on the ship, "I would've jumped him just as easily." Pause. "Actually, uh ... Peyton jumped me. Uh ... but it just happened to be the Captain. That was ... " She was about to say ‘the luck of the draw,' but she didn't really believe in luck. " ... I guess it was fate. And I guess that means it happened for a reason."
"That being said ... heat brought you together, but personality is prompting you to stay together? You are often unsure of yourself. He is very confident. I am sure you are drawn to that. You often have anxiety. He is the Captain. That, therefore, makes you feel safe. Are these things accurate?"
"Well ... no. Yes. I mean ... that's not what I meant." A whisker-twitch. Tugging at her parka zipper, idly. "The sex is great," she mumbled, coyly. " ... we have chemistry. We have a ... "
" ... clicking reaction?" the snow rabbit supplied.
"We click. Yeah. It's not just one thing. It's ... I don't know." A sigh. "I don't know ... "
Annika sat back, and waited.
"... simpatico. I guess is the word. I guess it doesn't matter." She bit her lip for a moment. The interior of the restaurant, clientele and all, was still here, of course. Still bustling. Still colorful. But backgrounds had a way of receding further back, sometimes. Like when you got into deep conversations. Like right now. "I can't stop trying to justify everything, you know? I can't just DO something. I gotta rationalize it and quantify it. I'm an engineer. I'm obsessed with how things work. And I guess that spills over to relationships, to my own mind: I gotta know why me and him work well together. I gotta know how ... "
" ... come?"
"How come? I just do," was the stressed-out whisper. And she realized, suddenly, that, " ... cause if I know how things work? I'll be able to fix them if something goes wrong." A poignant whisker-twitch. Hugging her tail to her breasts. " ... yeah. And I guess I expect them to go wrong. Cause I don't trust myself."
Annika reached out across the table. And gestured for (and took) the squirrel's paws in her own. "That is an incredibly affecting sentiment. You should tell him that." Paws squeezed, reassuringly. And then let go.
" ... no. It wouldn't make sense." Not making eye contact, she looked down at the tabletop. A sigh, fidgeting. " ... I'm over-thinking this, right?"
"Yes."
" ... yeah."
An eye-smile from the snow rabbit. Calm and composed, as she often was. Or as she often appeared, anyway. "I suppose, then, if it's best for your mental welfare, you should simply let things happen from this point on. Perhaps love is not able to be controlled in your unique circumstance. Perhaps you are simply going to have to ‘go with the flow.' Be adaptable. Evolve." A pause. And, then, "Love has the capacity for wildness and unpredictability. It can be quite a ride."
" ... every time I talk to you about this, your advice changes a little bit. You know that?"
"I suppose I am trying, even if unintentionally, to keep you on your toes," was the tease.
A weak smile. "But you always makes sense, somehow." A pause. "Well ... kind of."
" ... perhaps you feel like a team that's found an excellent player. He's given you, in his debut month, a winning record. But you do not have him under contract. And you fear that other teams will attempt to woo him away with more ... or better, perhaps, offerings," Annika said, diplomatically. "You wish to prevent that from happening. Because you believe the long-term success of your franchise is dependent on keeping him."
"I guess that's ... that kinda makes sense, also. In a metaphorical way. Though I don't think my love's a franchise, exactly." A pause. "Or that he's playing for my heart. Or that ... "
" ... I did not say it was a perfect allusion," was the warm, shoulder-dipping response. "I am only theorizing."
"Yeah." A pause. "I didn't know you followed sports."
"Not devoutly. But Peyton did. And Dennison does."
"Ah ... well, uh ... " The squirrel kept forgetting that Annika and Peyton had, uh ... ‘known' each other. Before. " ... how is the mouse?"
"Very mousey."
"H-heh ... is that good? I guess?"
A sultry exhale. And a raised brow. "Do you want me to answer that?"
"Uh ... no." A modest head-shake. "No." A swallow. "Uh, not with that gleam in your eyes ... should we order anything?"
"Off this menu?" A quick glance. "I do not order from places that serve something called ‘blueberry bug muffins' ... but do not serve lemon velvet cake."
The squirrel almost started laughing at that, but stopped herself as she saw an Arctic hare (not a waiter, either) slyly approaching their booth. And she gave Annika a dainty tap beneath the table. With a bare foot-paw.
The snow rabbit felt it and turned her head. "I see him," she whispered, immediately. Arctic hares were ‘cousins,' of sorts, to snow rabbits. Both species having developed on the same planet. But having, thousands of years ago, come to ... not to blows, but to an ‘impasse' with each other. The hares left. And, in the wake of the schism, both societies had fallen into ‘dark ages' ... technology regressing. Returning to a primitive state for centuries.
Eventually, very slowly, they both restored themselves. Things had changed. As it currently stood, the hares lived on the border of High Command controlled space. They were, technically, snow rabbit citizens. With ceremonial autonomy. But, whatever the case, neither species spent much time with each other. Blood may have been thicker than water, but not when that water was ice.
Snow rabbits, physically, tended to be a bit more trim. Daintier. Less bulky and big. And snow rabbits were far more restrained. Hares could be, at times, boisterously emotional. They lacked the ‘mental freezes.' Their base emotions weren't as feral. There was a difference in ear-size, tail-fluff, feet-length (the hares had longer/bigger everything, mostly).
They did have one thing in common, though: they bred prolifically. They both had highly-active sex drives. More so than other species. It may have been a stereotype, but ... hey, it also happened to be true.
"You two ladies need a room?" the hare joked, as way of introduction. "They're takings bets up at the bar. ‘Specially after they saw you squeezing paws a minute ago ... "

 Annika quickly looked to Adele, quirking her brow, as if to give a silent, ‘See? I told you.'
"You really look out of place, you know. Those fancy High Command issue parkas. I bet you're carrying a phase pistol, aren't you, rabbit?" he asked Annika, sliding into the booth with her. "A femme with a weapon. Kinda makes me all shivery. Not the violence part ... I don't deal in weapons. No. But ... I like strong femmes," he said.
"I take it you are the contact which spoke to Peyton?" Annika went, remaining unflustered. And sort of ignoring his bravado.
"Your Captain? Yeah. Spoke to him ... don't know why he didn't come himself, though."
"It is against protocol for the Captain to lead dangerous away missions."
"You think you're in danger?" the hare asked, whiskers giving a singular twitch. "I mean, I know this is the boonies of snow rabbit space, but ... it's not anarchy." A pause. "Not totally. Well, not yet."
Annika said nothing to this.
"He trying to soften me up by sending such beautiful go-betweens? That the plan? Kinda cunning of him, really." A lazy smile. "But I'm a sucker. It's probably gonna work." An idea dawning in his head. "If you two really are a couple, and you want a third party ... " ... okay, not an idea. A fantasy.
"I am mated," Annika said simply. "To a male."
"Mated, huh? Thought snow rabbits were open-breeders ... like us. Thought we had that in common."
"Generally ... "
" ... well, what about her? Squirrelly here?" the hare asked, pointing a paw at the red squirrel.
"She is not mated, no." A pause. Adding, "Not technically."
The squirrel gave the snow rabbit a frown for mentioning that.
Annika internally scolded herself. Not meaning to make her friend uncomfortable. You are too straightforward sometimes, Annika. You're married to a mouse. Shouldn't his finesse be rubbing off on you? Use it.
"Good enough for me ... " A slight chuckle from the hare, oblivious to their exchange of glances. " ... never done anything with a tail that big. Or fluffy."
Adele rolled her eyes. This hare seemed, as Annika would probably put it, rather uncouth.
"You will not lay a claw on her. Unless you wish my foot-paw to be imprinted on your backside."
"You'd kick a fur? In public?"
"It depends. If I was in a polite mood, I would simply stun you," she said. "However, I am not sure how polite I am feeling." Cause she did have a phase pistol on her. She was chief of security, after all. As well as first officer. And, having war experience, was trained in combat. Paw-to-paw. And weapons. She was a strong femme, indeed. There was no doubt about that. "Take your pick."
" ... mm ... ‘kay, then. But I need payment. I don't give valuable merchandise for free."
"We have one hundred credits, a case of self-sealing stem-bolts. A case of snow rabbit wine. It's in our shuttle." A squinty-eyed look. "You are a very demanding merchant."
He lowered his voice to a total hush. "Well, it's not everyday one has rare alien technology on the market, is it?"
"And you're offering it to us," Adele asked, piping up, "out of the kindness of your heart?"
"Shh!" he warned. And then a suave smile. "Yes. As a matter of fact." He bobbed his head. "And cause, honestly, you have the resources to afford it. Economy's bad round here, lately. Real bad." A huff. "You can't find lemon velvet cake anywhere. Not the real stuff, anyway. Food processor doesn't do it justice."
"I'd noticed," Annika said.
"Is that like an in-joke or something?" Adele remarked.
"Mm ... she's Federation, isn't she?" the hare asked.
"Yes." A pause. Turning the subject back to pure business: "You'll bring the technology to our shuttle?"
"No. That's out in the open. On the platform. Security snooping. And it's snowing. We'll go to my warehouse. You'll bring it yourself. You won't get arrested. I will."
"Why do you say that?" Adele asked.
"Cause most of the security here ... happens to be male. They're not gonna arrest anything with breasts. If they do, you can get out of it ... if you're willing to use your wiles, that is." That sounded a little gritty, a little crude, to the squirrel. But the hare didn't seem to be joking this time. " ... I wouldn't be so lucky." A pause. "And they know me. They don't know you. Benefit of the doubt."
"I am not walking into an ambush," Annika said, with level tone.
The hare raised his paws. Innocently. Eyes widening. "I would ambush two fair femmes? And risk having the whole of the High Command hunting me down?"
"Furs have tried to take on the High Command. The wasps. The Arctic foxes. The Federation." Pause. "Your own species."
"And they all failed. I'm not stupid," the hare remarked. "I know the reputation snow bunnies have," he said. Using that harsh vernacular. Snow rabbits resented being called ‘bunnies.' "You're downright legendary, you know that? You're the galaxy's only ‘undefeated species.' Bet you have banners flying from your ships ... bragging about it."
"I should watch your tongue," Annika whispered.
"Why? Do you want a piece of it?"
The snow rabbit's buckteeth showed. As she bit her lip. Exhaling through the nose.
The hare, for his part, didn't back down. Even though he was clearly intimidated.
Adele, trying to break the ice (which seemed, to her, like a bad pun), said, " ... uh ... you know, I don't think we were properly introduced."
"We weren't," the hare said dryly, finally looking away from the snow rabbit. And he extended a work-worn paw to Adele. (He must've been at least thirty; probably five years older than either femme.) "Collie," he breathed. His name. And a wry, self-conscious smile. "I know. Weird name for a hare. Makes me sound like a dog. And I don't like dogs at all, to be honest. I don't know what my mother was thinking. But, uh ... my bark is worse than my bite. In any case. Or my mew, I guess. Heh."
The squirrel hesitated. But took his paw.
And he brought hers, without asking, to his muzzle. Gingerly. Giving a gentlemanly kiss to the back of it. "Your name, dear? I didn't get it ... "
"Uh ... Adele," she said, a bit shyly.
"Well, Adele. If you and your killer snow-bosomed bodyguard," he teased, "would accompany me?"
Adele looked to Annika. She was in charge here.
And Annika nodded. "Very well," she said, sternly.
"Mind, it's the dead of winter here. A blizzard's coming. You won't want to lift off tonight. You'll have to wait ‘til tomorrow. ‘Til there's a gap in the sky ... sometimes, these snow storms have lightning. Green-colored, sizzly bolts. Totally shuts down equipment if you get hit." A pause. "I've seen shuttles trying to make getaways from the authorities during snowstorms. Authorities just let ‘em go ... cause they know the lightning will get them. It usually does. Furs think they can outrun nature ... " From the tone of his voice, it sounded like he'd lost some friends in such incidents.
"We'd planned for that. We won't launch. But we are going to stay in our shuttle," Annika said. "Here on the landing platform."
"What?" A blink. And a head-shake. "Mm-mm. I have an extra room, though. You can use it."
"Why are you being so nice?" Adele asked, hesitantly.
"Cause I am nice," he insisted. Sounding hurt. "But when you make your living on the black market, you have to have an attitude. You meet some tough cookies. I always come off as a little gruff, at first. ‘Til I get a read on my customers. But, uh ... like I said: mew worse than bite." He stood up, trying to act nonchalant. "What do you say, huh? Ditch this dive? You don't wanna still be here when everyone starts to get drunk."
Annika considered. The hare didn't seem much of a threat. I could take him down if I had to, she reasoned. So, she nodded, stood, and followed him. And Adele, in turn, followed Annika. Closely. Almost grabbing at the back of her parka. As they went ...
... through the crowd.
Past the bar.
And out the back door.
Annika stepped in, once more, through the loud, clunking entrance. Much thicker and noisier than the sleek, swishing doors back on Majestic. She shook her head, snowflakes melting off her whisker-tips. " ... still nothing." She'd been trying, for the last half hour, to get a comm signal to the ship. Not that they were expecting one. But, still, she'd wanted to update Peyton on their status if at all possible.
"Probably electrical interference from the lightning. That cloud cover gets pretty thick. I mean, it's ... huge mass. It'll snow non-stop. Should clear out by tomorrow night. Wind moves it along ... "
" ... yes ... my scanner reads gusts up to sixty miles per hour." A few tap-a-taps. Blinking. "Of course, I am used to it. The snow rabbit Home-world often faces worse conditions." But she'd been away from home for a while, now. It was a bit of a readjustment.
Not as much as it was for Adele, though. Who was hugging her tail to her parka. Legs pulled up onto the couch she was on. She was rubbing her bare, furry toes. Before giving up and sitting normally. "I ... c-can't believe you two aren't cold."
"You need the heat turned up?" the hare replied.
"Yes!" was the chattering squeak.
"Heh ... will do, then," Collie said, leaning back, himself. Tapping some buttons on a paw-held pad. "Seven degrees warmer. Just give it a minute." They were in a small control room. What used to be a control room, anyway. That had been converted into a kitchen/living room. With a window overlooking a hangar. A bay filled with stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. Some of it could be labeled, perhaps, as junk, but ... one fur's junk was another fur's treasure, after all.
Annika walked to that window, nearly pressing her charcoal-colored nose to the glass. And, when she spoke, her breath fogged it. "If you are indeed a black-market seller ... how can you afford to have this warehouse?"
"Monetarily or socially?"
"Both."
"Well ... no one else wanted it. It's not exactly ritzy. As for getting by the authorities: laws are lax here. Sometimes. Fact is, this is a remote colony. The Arctic hare Home-world doesn't give us financial support, and they're dependent on the snow rabbits for their trade, so ... this place is a total afterthought in the whole scheme of things. It needs black market revenue to survive. So, they allow it. If they like you." He paused. "Depends on their mood, really. And, besides, it's ... I don't sell weapons or anything. So, I don't get picked on as much. I have my run-ins once in a while, but ... " He sounded like he didn't want to talk about it.
"Just drugs and stolen technology?" Annika went, dryly. "What is your forte, exactly?"
" ... something like that," Collie replied, not impressed with the snow rabbit's attitude. Giving her an unfriendly glare. "I didn't steal the wasp shield generator, missy. I found it. On a derelict ship."
"It's a generator?" Adele asked, blinking. She hadn't known that. "Wasp?"
Annika merely nodded at the squirrel, without making eye contact. She'd known, of course. "Finders keepers?" she asked Collie. "The rule of salvage?"
"If you don't want it, then leave."
A small head-tilt. "We want it."
"Then get off my back before I jack up the price. Hell, if you can't calm down, I have some catnip." Catnip was an illegal, hallucinogenic drug.
"No, thank you," was the turned-off response. Annika squinted and paced off.
Collie grumbled, and looked over to the squirrel. Smiling, now, for her. "A multi-phasic," he stressed, "shield generator. Since you asked. Rotating modulation. Several times stronger than anything the Federation or High Command currently uses. But it saps a lot of power. I mean, takes ... loads of power to maintain. Your ship probably wouldn't be able to handle it the way it is. You'd have to reconfigure it, somehow. Redesign it. But it could come in useful. I hear there's a yellow jacket problem in the area, so ... you never know, huh?"
"Yeah. I bet. Uh ... " The squirrel sat up, perking. Scooting closer to the hare. "I'm an engineer."
" ... that so?"
"Yeah. I, uh ... can I look at it? Please? I mean, I know we haven't given you the payment yet, but I just ... I won't take it apart. But can I see it?"
A wider smile. "Sure."
Annika, returning, did the closest thing a snow rabbit could do to a frown. "Lieutenant ... "
The squirrel looked up. "What? That's why I came along, right? To inspect our purchase? To make sure it's valid?"
A slow nod. That was true enough.
"Why didn't you tell me it was wasp stuff?"
"It was a secret," was the simple response.
"You didn't trust me?"

"I did. I did not trust, however, the locals on this colony. If you were caught and tortured, you would have told them ... I would not have."
"Why's that?" Collie asked.
"I have been tortured before," was the cold, immediate reply.
The squirrel put a paw to her own forehead. And nodded. Looking either frustrated or shaken at the blunt response. " ... yeah ... okay," she whispered. "Uh, Collie, I wanna see it."
"Just be careful," Annika continued. "Wasp technology may have safeguards. I do not want you to receive some kind of shock. I do not have a medical kit with me."
"I'll be careful. I'm just gonna look," the squirrel assured, a bit briskly. I may be an emotional nutcase. But I'm not a child. She didn't say this out loud, though. Just grabbed her portable tool box.
"You need tools to look?" the snow rabbit pressed.
A whisker-twitch. "I'm gonna run some scans. Look, this is what I do." Her voice raised. By more than a squeaky bit.
Annika, realizing she was probably patronizing Adele, simply nodded. And backed off. Calmly. "Very well." Maybe it was because she was married to one, now. But she felt like rodents needed protection. More than other furs. They had an almost unaware vulnerability to them. They couldn't make it on their own, could they? Maybe not. But you don't need to suffocate them. Dennison or Adele.
"You comfortable?" Collie asked Annika, before heading for the warehouse door.
"As much as I'm going to get," was the reply, taking a seat on a big-cushioned chair. Reaching for a computer pad. "May I use this?" she asked.
"Sure. You can access the city net. The frequency is scrambled so my connection is, uh ... untraceable. Don't do anything to change that."
"I won't."
"Good." The hare gave her a look, and then motioned at the squirrel with his paw. "Follow me, miss ... "
" ... this is amazing. This is, like ... technology from three different societies. At least. Wasp. Snow rabbit. Federation. This looks like ... " A hush. " ... I don't know what that is." She almost touched it. But stopped herself. "So complex. I'd need the science lab back on Majestic to run deeper scans. This paw-held thing isn't thorough enough. I mean, it could be incorporated in our systems ... but it would take a lot of rerouting. The shielding. I mean, and you're right: this thing looks like it sucks power. We run on dilithium. I don't know what wasp ships run on. I've heard," she said, blabbing squeakily, animatedly, "that they use artificial quantum singularities. Like, you know, controlled, miniature black holes. Isn't that wild? I mean, if it's true ... but that'd be dangerous, I would think ... "
" ... mm ... they assimilate, don't they?" Collie asked, with a dreamy sigh. Quite taken with the squirrel's sudden energy. It was a little bit contagious. She seemed very intelligent, too. Once she opened up, anyway. He liked that.
"Yeah. Pretty sure," Adele murmured, distractedly, in the back of the warehouse. The ceiling was tall but not overly so. The wind whooshed around the outside, and you could hear it. The heat-shield kept the warmth from escaping, though, continuing to regulate the interior temperature. "It's not that I find alien technology more enjoyable than our own, but ... I mean, I guess it's the challenge, you know? Trying to figure it out. As nice as it is when everything runs smoothly? I think engineers enjoy a bit of a problem. I think we get bored, otherwise."
"Bored, huh?"
" ... yeah. Well ... " She trailed off.
" ... well?"
She was too lost in thought to immediately respond. Maybe, she realized, that's another reason why I'm in this situation with Peyton. Not only because of the, uh ... okay, the sex. There. I said it. The sex. And his personality. What he offers me. But I do love a challenge, right? I am an engineer. I love to fix things. I do. But ... wait, weren't you saying, earlier that you wanted to know how things worked? How you and him worked? You don't want to HAVE to fix things. You want them to run smoothly. But the challenge. The fixing. You're addicted to that. If there was no complication or confusion, if it was easy and vanilla ...
... gosh, this makes zero sense.
Just be happy with what you have, Adele.
Don't question it.
" ... uh ... miss?"
" ... mm?"
"You were saying ... ?"
"Oh, uh ... " She wasn't quite sure. Were those ... fingers? Combing through her tail-fur? She swallowed, turning her head. Standing up (from the kneel-down she'd been at). If you're addicted to complications, Adele, then I think you've got a new one ...
" ... I've honestly ... I've really never seen a tail so luxurious. That I could bury my nose in and ... lose it, you know." Soft, tentative strokes.
" ... uh. Well ... thanks. I guess." The squirrel clammed up a bit. And looked to the other end of the warehouse, almost instinctively. The entrance out of sight. Cause of piled-up crates and containers and all that ...
... Collie, seeing where she was looking, let go of her tail, suddenly very apologetic. "D-don't ... uh, don't yell for your scary rabbit-friend. I wasn't gonna ... " He took a step back. " ... you know."
Adele blinked. Whiskers a-twitch.
" ... just ... she said you didn't have a mate." A hopeful pause. "I think you're ... " He bobbed his head. " ... you know. You're pretty. You have a pleasing temperament."
"Um ... " She took a breath. This had caught her off-guard, honestly. She wasn't the best at social interactions. And had been, on top of that, so caught up in the new technology. As well as her own self psycho-analysis. She hadn't picked up on his interest. Not until the, uh, tail-touching.
"Sorry." He backed up another step.
"No ... no, don't ... " A sigh. " ... don't be embarrassed. I mean, I'm not upset." She was simply confused. Think, Adele. Think.
" ... well, I can't afford to have this sale fall through. I need to get rid of this thing. The generator. It's too risky for me to keep, and I need the money. It's a hard winter ... "
A quiet nod. "I'm not gonna ... I mean, I'm ... you're fine. It's fine." Another nod, beginning to twitch. Tail flittering. She swallowed.
Things went quiet for a moment, and the hare ventured forward. A step or two forward. Back to her. A paw returning to that sublime, silky tail, fingers splaying. And combing through the soft, fluffy fur. Just brushing, in small, slow repetitions. "It's really beautiful," he admitted, sighing. "The texture ... it glistens in the light, too. You must groom it a lot."
Adele closed her eyes. Her cheeks getting hot. " ... I ... I do. Yeah." A squirrel's tail was a great source of pride.
" ... not really ... after a relationship. I'll be honest," he mumbled, very quietly. "No chance, obviously." A pause. "But, uh ... "
" ... I ... I don't really go for that," she said, quickly.
" ... for?"
"C-casual ... casual breeding." Her eyes slowly opened. That's not entirely true, is it, Adele? You're doing it with the Captain. But that was different. Correction: that is different. Is. Present tense. Never mind how. It just is. There was ... there's an emotional ‘something' there. A foundation of ‘something.' And there clearly isn't anything with Collie. And yet ...
... I suddenly think I know how Peyton feels.
At least a little bit.
Why he does what he does.
But I don't think that works for me, she thought. I'm too emotional. I'm not that much of a risk-taker. And it is a risk, right? But ...
... a certain thrilling leap in the heart, nonetheless. Adventurous. Unknown. A certain ...
... something.
I understand temptation.
I always have.
That's not the issue ...
... it's how you react to it.
" ... don't have to ... intercourse. I mean, I'd love to, but if it makes you uncomfortable," he said, trailing gently, both paws on her tail, now. " ... you okay with muzzle? At least?"
"Um ... "
" ... I'll do the giving," he whispered, soothingly. "I'll do the work, miss." An easy smile. As if that was work! His paws, now on her hips, moved about. Influencing. Trying to convince.
"W-why ... ?" Am I panting, or is my breath shaking because I'm nervous? She didn't know. She looked, again, to where the door was. As if she'd expected the crates not to be there. As if she expected Annika to appear at any moment. Yes. To come in here and stop this ...
... and make the choice for her.
So I don't have to.
"Honest to God, I love pussy. The feel of it, especially. Femmes are so ... mm, feminine," he went. Yeah, that sounded lame. But he didn't know how else to put it. "But, uh ... yeah, been ages since I tasted a rodent. Literally. Don't get many around these parts. You look warm. Soft. Finer than those supple art sculptures I see in pictures. Your scent," he continued, simply, "appeals to my nose. I'd like to dine on some of that ... " Thinking that sounded a little too lusty, he added, " ... and, hey, you look like you could use some pleasure. You've been twitching all night, right?"
"I'm a nervous type." How she managed to get that out without stuttering, she didn't know.
"Mm-hmm," he hummed, having worked his paws under her parka. Under her shirt. Feeling confident, again, now that he saw she wasn't going to yell for that rabbit. He was a little bit afraid of Annika. Okay, a lot afraid. She looked like she could beat him up. Seriously. That was kind of a turn-on, but not enough to want to see it actually happen. "Just relax ... you can keep your shirt on. I won't touch your breasts ... " A pause. " ... unless you want."
Her heart hammered.
" ... mm?" he went, waiting. Seeing she was clamming up. "Well. Just ... gonna ... " He undid her pants. The sound of a zipper ... and he sank to his knees, gently turning her around. Looking up. "You want me to stop?" he asked.
"Uh ... I'm t-thinking," she responded, honestly. Gosh. Think fast, Adele. Oh, gosh. "I'm sorry. I'm flustered." Freaking ... being a fur. Sentient animals and sex. What a potent mix. She exhaled.
A quiet nod, fingers hooked beneath the band of her panties. Forehead resting against her furry waist, now. Just below the hem of her shirt. A pecking, mouthing kiss. Matting her lower belly-fur with saliva. "Who is he?"
"W-what?"
" ... the rabbit. Snow-brains out there ... said you weren't mated. Not technically. You got a sort-of-someone, though?"
"Sort of. Someone. I mean ... yeah."
"He a snow rabbit, too?" The hare breathed in deep. He could smell her arousal. And that rodent scent. It made him sigh out deeply. His maw watering. " ... you want me to stop?" he asked, yet again.
Adele inhaled.
" ... still thinking?"
A trembling nod.
"Hey ... you alright?" Collie asked, genuinely concerned. "Look, the last thing I wanted was to ... " He trailed off. " ... I'm a nice fur," he insisted. As he had earlier, in the bar. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
"Y-yeah. Sorry. I'm ... I'm ... very shy. Really. U-uh ... " Her breath slipped out. And her eyes drifted shut. He was rubbing her clitoris. W-wasn't he. Yes. With his blunt-clawed thumb. Through the fabric of her panties. And being very gentle about it, too. Very. Very gentle. " ... you're ... making this hard for me," she whispered, with weak pleasure.
"I'm trying to make it easier," he whispered back. With an everyday sort of charm. He didn't have an incredibly-toned physique. Or an academic accent. He was just your averagely-built, average-weight hare. But ... what made him a good merchant made him a good lover: he knew how give customers what they wanted. Knew how to make a sale. Not that Adele was a customer. But, uh ... " ... still with me?"
A nod. And then another.
"There we go ... you're relaxin', now. I can tell. Feels good?"
A slower nod, this time. It ... d-did ...
... that thumb still pressed, still rubbed. Joined by fingers. His whole paw rubbing round, slipping about, up, up, drifting up. Fingers curling beneath her panty-band. On both hips. And so subtly tugging. Down, down ...
... her underwear fell, with nary a sound, to her ankles. One foot-paw lifting on her own volition. And then stepping back down. He helped her lift the other. Kissing her inner thigh.
She bent the leg.
" ... back up, babe ... set your tail-end on that table there ... yeah, very edge. Just lean."
The leg, just as soon, was round his back. Or over his shoulder. She wasn't entirely sure. Her eyes were shut. Muzzle lifting to the ceiling as a wet, wily tongue flashed across her vulva, the fleshy petal-lips. An island of pink in a sea of auburn fur. Tongue flashing, flitting, and then ... dragging ...
... sensuously.
Seeking ...
... the time: after midnight.
And, because there was only one spare room, Annika and Adele were sharing the same bed. Eyes closed. On their sides, with their bare backs to each other.
" ... Annika?" was the eventual whisper.
No response. Just the wind.
"Are you really asleep?" A pause. And, again, "Annika?"
" ... I was ... almost ... " She sounded a bit groggy, words fading in and out. " ... asleep."
"Oh." A pause. "Annika?"
"Yes?"
" ... I can't sleep, though."
The snow rabbit blew out a breath. And shifted onto her back. Slowly. Stayed that way for a moment. "Mm." And then rolled onto her other side. "Turn around," she ordered. Her bobtail flicker-flicking beneath the sheets and covers.
The squirrel did so, wearing nothing. Pretty much. Well, she'd slept ‘in the fur' every night for ... as long as she could remember. And Annika, being a snow rabbit, wasn't one for embarrassment, preferring to sleep the same way. It was simply more comfortable. So ...
" ... you have something you wish to say?" Annika guessed, tall ears less at attention than normal. Laying floppily on the pillows.
" ... uh. Yeah."
"Did something happen between you and Collie?" It was the snow rabbit's job, as a security officer, to be extra-observant. To pick up on things that may or may not have happened.
" ... sorta."
The snow rabbit waited.
"He licked me ... muzzled me."
" ... where?"
"Annika ... " A sigh.
" ... alright." A quiet nod. "Alright. Did he bring you ... "
" ... no. Um. Almost ... right to the edge, but I, uh, stopped it. Just before ... " Lord, that had taken some serious willpower.
"Why?"
" ... I felt it would've ... I don't know." Pause. "The interest? The foreplay? The teasing? That got my heart going. I was flattered, and bowled over, but ... " She trailed off. A small squeak. " ... an orgasm seals the deal, you know? For me? As silly as that sounds. Metaphorically? It's a stamp of approval. It's validation. Same with lip-locking. Things like that." A pause. "It would've validated something that wasn't really ... eh ... "
Annika put a paw on the squirrel's side.
"... I only want to be validated by Peyton. I'm in love with him. I want lasting romance," she said, with utter certainty, " ... with him. Only."
An eye-smile. Which went unseen in the dark. And it was, in here, very dark. "Did Collie take it well? Not getting any reward?"
" ... I think he was just happy to get a taste. His, uh, tongue got around ... got inside ... " A pause. " ... and he got to suckle one of my breasts, too." A squeak. "He was okay with that. It was more than he thought he was gonna get when the day started, I'm sure." A whisker-twitch. "He got a little crazy with his paws, though. I, uh, think he felt every inch of my body at some point ... then he left. I'm pretty sure he, uh, went to ... "
A mew. " ... no doubt. He rewarded himself." Pausing, before wondering, "Were you satisfied?"
" ... uh ... not ‘til later. I touched myself in the shower. Before we got into bed." She felt stupid for saying that. Blushing beneath the fur. " ... been a while since I've done that. To myself, I mean, instead of ... someone doing it to me."
"You were not the only one," was the assurance.
A soft sigh. Feeling a greater sense of relaxation coming on. "I'm glad I'm here with you," the red squirrel whispered. "And I ... okay, I realize the irony of being naked in a bed with you ... after what everyone thought in that bar today ... "
" ... I was not going to bring that up." A mirthful mew.
" ... but I do love you. As a friend. As ... you know what I mean? Right?"
"I know what you mean," the snow rabbit hushed, planting a gentle kiss on the bridge of the squirrel's twitchy nose. A paw scratching her hip. "Bedtime, squirrel."
"Yes. Yeah ... I'll try."
"You mind if I use your tail as a pillow?" Annika asked. "I do not know when I'll next get the chance."
"Only if you promise not to kick me in your sleep."
"Who says I'm going to kick?"
"Dennison. I told him Peyton kicked me, once, by accident. In his dreams. And I asked if you ever did the same. He said yes. Then we talked about how rabbits have great legs, and ... " Sigh. " ... gosh ... Peyton's legs. Oh, my gosh. You know? He pushes off that bed like a long-distance runner ... " A pause. " ... I think I'm sweating."
"Mm." A sleepy nod. "He does well standing up, too."
"Yeah, he ... uh. H-heh. I forgot again." A pause. "That you and him ... and now me ... " Flushing. A little awkwardly. "What do rabbits dream about, anyway? That would make you kick?"
"Hoppy things," was the mumbly non-answer answer. Truthfully, she was tired. She didn't have rodent energy. That sense of scurry. "Ask Peyton."
"I did."
A mumble. That sounded like, "And what did he say?"
"Hoppy things," was the ribbing response. "I guess that's some secret rabbit code-word, huh?"
"Yes. For sex," was Annika's blunt, drowsy response.
"H-heh ... eh." A pause. "Sometimes, I ... "
" ... am closing my eyes, now," the lapine announced. "One, two ... three. Closed."
"They've already been closed. My face is, like, a foot from yours. I can make that out."
"They are closed even tighter, now," Annika amended, logically. Grabbing for Adele's tail. Going quiet for a moment. "I find it hard to sleep without him. I must say. I am used to his scent. His weight. His ... breathing. Voice. Everything ... Dennison. Not Peyton. "
A pause, before an agreeing, " ... yeah. Me, too. The absence of him." And, then, "I mean ... Peyton. Not Dennison."
"Perhaps we should stop while we're ahead?"
A nod of agreement.
"At the very least, do not make me open my eyes. I will get cranky."
A giggle-squeak. " ... I won't. I promise, Sub-commander, I'll be good. I promise. Don't lock me in the brig!" Small, amused squeak.
" ... mm," was the throaty mumble-mew.
"Night, Annika. By the way."
"Mm-hmm ... " The snow rabbit cleared her throat.
A moment of silence.
A small rustling of the sheets as they both got comfortable, and as Annika started to turn around again, but ...
" ... can you, uh ... lay facing me? Please? I feel kinda safer ... you know. I mean, we're in a strange environment. I just ... " Rodent anxiety, maybe. But ...
" ... course." A stifled yawn. " ... m-y-yeah." Actual yawn, now. Hugging the squirrel's tail, head laying on the arched tip.
The wind whipped and whirled and wailed outside.
But, inside, it mattered not, for there was friendship.
Their shield.
Their warmth.