FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

** September 1st**

It was ten minutes until opening time.

"Gather around, cherubs!" said Coriander, chipper as always. "Back here, hurry up!"

The short, aging chipmunk, who claimed to be 'on the younger side of old,' served as the default manager of Hoosier Orchard. Mainly on account of no one else wanting the job and her having the longest tenure.

Herkimer, the head cashier, wandered where bidden. The silver-furred mouse's long, fleshy tail acted as a counterbalance to his steps, pointing this way and that.

Why couldn't we do this up front?

The back room, which everyone called the 'apple room,' was a big space with a wide, garage-like door. When open, it revealed a pastoral view: thousands of fruit-bearing trees, stretching into the distance. They were especially colorful and sun-kissed this morning, the start of a holiday weekend. But he found it hard to appreciate.

I'm not ready for this.

Open only five months due to the region's climate, September and October combined for two-thirds of the orchard's yearly takings. So many people! All wanting something. And me tasked to provide it. Was there anything more stressful? _Anxiety is the worst. _

"Do I have to be a cherub?" asked Kessler, a northern cardinal. Nearing her fifties, the mother of four was as irreverent as they came. Olive-colored with distinctive red streaks, she idly preened at some feathers. "Think I'm more a Hell's angel."

"Mm?" went Coriander, distractedly glancing at her notepad.

"You mean a demon?" Herkimer said dryly.

"My mate has mentioned I'm a demon in-"

"My grandmother calls me Angel," said Azalea, a spritely deer mouse. The youngest of the group, she twirled a price-sticker gun she'd just loaded.

"And?" Kessler asked.

Azalea shrugged. "It seemed relevant."

"Mice_does_ rhyme with nice," the bird said, shaking her feather-crested head. "You're all such-"

Click-click!

"Goody-goods."

Azalea had priced herself, to see if the reload job had worked. She removed the sticker.

"How much you going for?" Herkimer asked.

"I'm in layaway," she said, having recently found a maybe-girlfriend.

Coriander put her notebook aside and clapped her paws together. "Alright, let's get to business!" She sniffed the air, beginning with, "Cider donuts!" The aroma of the cake-based pastries filtered through the store, impossible to ignore.

"Already had one," Kessler said. She'd snuck into the kitchen upon arrival and performed a 'taste test.' Granules of cinnamon and sugar still dotted the tip of her hard, bright-orange beak.

"We'll be making them all weekend. I know you'll get a lot of questions about that. First come, first serve. No pre-orders, no singles. Half-dozens and dozens only. It's easier that way."

"Hope the machine doesn't go down," Azalea said. "Remember last year?"

"You trying to jinx us?" Kessler asked.

"No, it's an anti-jinx. If I say it'll break, it won't."

"That's superstition."

"Don't demons deal in that?"

"As for produce, it's sunflowers and apples," Coriander continued, ignoring them. "Peaches are done. Pumpkins are still a few weeks off."

"What kinds of sunflowers are we picking?" Herkimer asked, raising a pink paw. Someone is bound to ask.

"Strawberry Blonde, Chocolate Cherry, Lemon Queen ... "

"Tasty," Azalea said.

"Love me some good seed," the bird agreed, clacking her beak.

"Don't you mean seeds?"

"That, too."

Azalea rolled her eyes.

"As for apples-"

"Some customers don't understand that every apple has a different ripening date," Herkimer said randomly. "The other day, someone came in for an apple we picked back in July. I gave them our business card and said to call ahead next time before making the drive. They called me a smartass."

Customers that didn't get what they wanted always_claimed to have partaken in some incredible, death-defying journey. 'We made a three-hour trip, one-way! From out of state!' _Really? I guess they figure I'm easily guilt-tripped. Which is true, but-

"You can't please everyone," Coriander said. "Don't let the negative five percent ruin your day. Ninety-five percent of people are good-natured!"

"Hah!" Kessler scoffed.

"Are we going to pile on customers?" Azalea said excitedly.

"It's good that you're venting your frustrations now," Cori declared, clasping her paws together and flicking her striped tail. "You'll be unburdened for the mad rush!"

The trio grumbled.

"Is there anything else?" the perky chipmunk asked.

"We're being flooded with calls for Honey Crisp," Herkimer said. "They're obsessed with it. They keep hounding me for a picking date. I don't know what to say!" _I hate answering the phone. _

"There's a strict Honey Crisp embargo until Monday. That's straight from Mr. Balaton," Cori said, of the orchard's owner. He was outside somewhere, directing the outdoor staff. "We want the Labor Day pickers to have their share. We'll have a bigger crowd then."

Honey Crisp was the orchard's most popular apple. The supply never came close to meeting the demand. Wasn't there a brawl last year? In the parking lot?

The mouse was bewildered by the hype. They wouldn't even make my top five apples. Top ten? He blew out a breath. Okay, fine. They were actually really good. But, still! He resented their insane popularity. Or, rather, how it impacted his mental health.

I should make an official list of my favorite-

"Excuse me?" came a new voice.

_Who's that?_Had a customer gotten in early?

"Ah, Talkeetna!" Coriander exclaimed to the red squirrel.

And, oh, was she red. Brick road red, rich and striking, with a soft, creamy white on her neck that ran down into her shirt.

She's like a red velvet cake.

He blushed, blaming the omnipresent aroma of donuts for making him think that. _ _

She flickered her bushy, immaculate tail. "Sorry if I'm late? I didn't know where to park. After I figured it out, I went to the front door, but it was closed. I looked through the windows and saw you all back here, so I snuck around the, uh ... the building here," she said, pointing out the open door at the orchard.

"No problem!" Cori said.

"Also, everyone calls me TK."

"Oh, yes, you told me that in the interview! I have a lot on my plate. You must forgive me." Cori gestured from the red squirrel to the others. "These will be your co-workers. The ones you'll see the most of, anyway. TK's been hired as store help this season!" she told everyone, beginning the introductions. "This is Kessler."

"Mm," the bird grunted, looking at her phone.

"Azalea."

The deer mouse gave a welcoming tail-wave.

"And Herkimer."

"Hi ... "

TK flashed him a big, bucktoothed smile. "Nice to meet you," she said warmly, eyes looking him over.

He just nodded dumbly.

Looking to the others, TK quickly added, "All of you. I'm excited to be part of the team!"

"You'll soon be cured of that."

Cori shot the bird an 'oh, you!' look.

"But, hey, as long as this means I have to be on the registers less? Welcome aboard," the cardinal told the squirrel. She held up two talons, as if to say 'peace out' before she wandered off, likely to the stockroom. Or maybe to get another donut from the kitchen.

"Just ignore her," the chipmunk suggested. "Herkimer, will you train TK on the computer? He's got a knack for ringing people up!"

"Well, he is the only male on the floor," Azalea said, giving TK a wink.

Herkimer, who hated being the center of attention, wanted to curl into a ball.

Why is this happening to me?

TK didn't acknowledge the deer mouse's remark.

Cori glanced at the clock and chirped in a loud voice, "It's almost opening time! Places, everyone! Get to your places!" At that, the chipmunk scampered off. Azalea, too, leaving Herkimer alone with Talkeetna in the apple room.

"So." The squirrel looked at the mouse, expectantly. "What now?" Her own ears, more angular than his, had wispy tufts of fur extending from the tips. _ _

Is there anything cuter than ear tufts?

"We'll, uh, unlock the front doors," he said, heading to the checkout area. He heard her follow. Not just the soft slap of her foot-paws on the hard, smooth floor, but the air moving around her ultra-fluffy tail. "Actually, no."

"Mm?"

He stopped on a dime, and she almost ran into the back of him. Her natural agility allowed her to sidestep him at the last second.

Herkimer looked around for her. Where'd she-

"You were saying?"

"Oh. Um ... " When he found her, he got a closer look at her eyes. They were a rich, emerald green, the perfect color complement to her fur. "We should make sure the drawers are full of money firsst," he said, shuffling back and bumping into the counter. His tail flailed. "Uh, behind ... back there." Clearing his throat, he skirted around it. "Have you clocked in yet?"

"Don't know my number."

"I'll ... we'll just, um, find it for you. Real quick, here." Try not stammering? He tapped away at the keyboard. She stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. She's taller than me. His nose sniffed. And she smells like vanilla. His whiskers twitched. I don't think I can last 'til lunch. "You're one hundred thirty-nine," he said.

"Is that good?"

"Mm?"

"Being a high number."

"It's just random," he said lamely. "So, you tap the 'time clock' button on any register. Enter your number. Like-"

His eyes widened.

Did our tails just touch?

His breath quickened.

They did.

Is she smiling again? No, don't look!

"You're clocked in," he said. "Just repeat the sequence when you clock out for lunch or at the end of your shift."

"Seems easy enough. We use something similar at my other job."

"Yeah?"

Since the orchard was a seasonal business, everyone here had another job. Or two. All of us are scraping by. Would any of us be here if we had better, full-time options?

"I also work part-time at-"

Rattle-rattle!

Knock-knock-knock!

"They look like they're about to storm the castle," TK said, of the customers pressing and grabbing at the door. "Is that normal?"

Herkimer, too nervous to answer, took a swig of ice water from a canteen he kept by his register_. It's seriously warm in here. I'm going to melt. I wish this building was insulated!_ It was a half-century old barn, and it was usually evident. By the end of October, it'll be freezing, and I'll have to wear a coat indoors. Which do you prefer?

_I don't know, but I look terribly silly with a tail-sock. _

Knock-knock-knock!

"Alright, alright," he muttered, heading for the doors. He took a deep breath. You can do this. You can do this. You can-

He unlocked the doors, jumping back to avoid being jostled. Twenty, twenty-five people pushed through. When the single-minded herd had filtered out the back, he propped the doors permanently open and sighed, telling Talkeetna, "They'll be back in half an hour, and then we'll have lines curving-" He gestured out the back room, shaking his head. I'm tired already. "They come in waves."

"Luckily, I can swim," TK said with a wink.

I wish I had her confidence. Is she this positive all the time? No wonder Cori hired her.

The mouse returned to the registers. "Just watch me for the first few checkouts? I'm always on One. You can hop on Two when you're ready. Kessler and Azalea will get on Three and Four when we need them."

"Sure thing." _ _

His whiskers twitched again.

_Maybe it won't be so bad this year? _

September 3rd

It was Labor Day, and the Honey Crisp were open for picking. Word had spread, and the orchard was slammed. The sunflowers were decimated. In fact, they'd been the first to go. People were mad. The parking lots were overflowing with honking cars.

The line inside was twenty, thirty customers deep. Maybe more. Even with all four registers in use. Coriander was a free agent, wandering around trying to keep order. Mr. Balaton, as usual, was outside. And it was still unbearably, unseasonably hot. They'd already had two customers collapse due to heat exhaustion.

"I can take someone on Register Three! Register Three is open!" Kessler chirped. "Hey! Yeah, you!"

Herkimer recounted a customer's order before giving them their total. With all the chaos, it was easy to miss things. "So, I've got a gallon of cider, pint of pumpkin butter, and a half-bushel of-"

"No, this is a peck."

The mouse stood on his tiptoes and peered into the customer's cart. Are they really going to argue this? "That's actually a half-bushel bag." He pointed with his tail. "It, uh, says so right on the-"

"It was in the peck basket," the customer, a muskrat, stubbornly insisted. "It should be at the peck price!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Well, maybe I won't purchase it!" the customer threatened, figuring he'd bow to pressure rather than lose a sale.

"If you don't wish to keep them, we'll gladly use the apples in our cider."

The customer grumbled and shoved their credit card into the chip reader. "I'm already spending a fortune here, anyway! What's another few dollars?"

Handing them their receipt, the mouse said, in a light, squeaky tone, "Thank you! Have a nice-"

"Herkimer!" said Talkeetna.

The mouse held up a finger to the next customer, indicating 'just a second,' as he quickly skipped over to the red squirrel. He was glad to leave his station, anyway. The muskrat's 'musk' needed a few seconds to clear.

"I don't know what happened!" TK's bushy tail flailed. She held up her paws. "It just ... the screen went away, and-"

Without looking, the mouse pressed some buttons on the keyboard and everything was restored to normal. "I don't know _why_it does that, but-"

"Thanks!"

He got back to his register in time to hear Azalea squeak, "What's the price for butternut-"

"Two dollars a pound."

"What's the-"

"One-one-three-three-six," Herkimer said, without looking back.

Someone in line dropped a tub of candy corn, sending sweet, colored wedges every which way.

"I've got it!" Cori said, a broom already in paw.

Damn, she's good.

Herkimer reached into his apron and popped a red-and-white peppermint disc into his mouth. He'd fainted a few years ago near the end of his shift cause his blood sugar dipped too low. So embarrassing._Though anxiety had played a part, too. Hadn't it? _You compartmentalize things a little too well. It's not healthy.

He smiled at the customer in front of him. "Sorry for the wait. Did you find everything you were looking for?"

At day's end, after the line had died down and the doors had been locked, Herkimer began tearing down the registers. Kessler had wandered off to restock the shelves while Azalea swept the floor. Coriander was in the kitchen.

"That was intense," TK said. "My ears are still ringing! I've worked Black Fridays before, but we always had more staff than this."

"Yeah." Herkimer opened Register Four. "It's this way all fall." Undermanned and overwhelmed.

She stood beside him. "Can I help?"

"Sure. You can help me remove the money? Just make sure it's all separated." He scooped out the quarters and put them in their own plastic bag, tying it up before dropping it in a bank pouch.

Talkeetna took out the dimes.

Herkimer started on the nickels.

"Been meaning to ask: does anyone call you Herk?"

He blinked.

"Only, I know what it's like to have a long, unusual name." She pointed to herself. "People want to shorten it."

"Why? Do-"

"Just curious," she insisted.

"Makes me think of Hercules. A little too masculine for me."

"Why's that?"

He shrugged. "I'm not all that strong." Mentally or physically. I'm just a scrawny worrywart.

"You're still standing after doing a nine-hour battle with a horde of needy consumers! Awfully impressive, if you ask me."

He dipped his chin, smiling lightly. Well, when she puts it like that. "Maybe ... "

"Expectations can be subverted."

"But I'm just a mouse," he said.

"So? I think you're selling yourself short."

He felt his cheeks getting warm. "I don't know," was all he could think of to say.

"What do you do when you're not here? I mean ... job-wise?" the squirrel asked, changing the subject.

"Mostly farming. Agriculture." He took a deep breath. "You know? My relatives are all farmers. Parents, too. It's something you're born into. Especially around here." Is she from these parts?

"So, you didn't go to school?"

The mouse hesitated. "Um. Well. Not college, no." He seemed almost ashamed by this.

"No big deal. It's not for everybody. Besides," she added, "I don't really use my degree, so ... " They'd stalled at the pennies, and they both reached for them at once.

Their paws touched.

The mouse pulled his back, ceding the cents to her, hoping she didn't notice his pulse quicken.

"By the way, I saw you sorting through these, earlier," TK said. "What were-"

"I was looking for wheats."

"Oh, the old ones?"

He nodded.

"You collect coins?"

"No, just, uh ... just the pennies." He swallowed. His throat was dry. "Do you regret going?"

"To school?" They moved to the bills. "The experience was good. I learned a lot. Made friends. But the loans _really_suck. Still paying those off." She paused. "On top of my other bills, it's hard to save anything."

"Savings? What's that?" he asked dryly.

"Guess we're in the same boat, huh?" she said with an easy grin.

He nodded quietly. How can I work multiple jobs and still live paycheck-to-paycheck?

"We can keep each other from going overboard. Like I said, I-"

"Know how to swim," he finished for her.

"I was on the team in high school."

"Really?"

"We finished runner-up in the state my senior year. I set fast time in my relay! I did the butterfly." She flexed a bit, for show. She still had an athletic figure. Bet she could beat me in just about anything. "Tried to swim in college, too, but my shoulder started hurting me." Her tail twitched. "Didn't want to do long-term damage."

She can't be from around here, then. My high school didn't have a pool.

They moved to the next register.

There was a moment of silence.

Say something ...

"Have you tried a Honey Crisp?"

"Yeah. From the store. The grocery, I mean." The squirrel looked back to the apple room. The doors were still up, and the orchard was being swallowed by evening. "Do they taste different here?"

"I think so," the mouse said. "A lot of apples in big stores are practically vacuum-sealed in warehouses, for months at a time."

"Seriously?"

"Then, when they need them, they let more air back in and take them out. When you add in additional weeks of shipping and display? You could be eating an apple picked over half a year ago. It won't hurt you, but compared to something right off the stem? There's a big difference."

"Huh," she went.

Way to sound like a condescending know-it-all, Herkimer.

"So, what's your favorite? Don't we have, like, thirty varieties?"

"Forty. And Mutsu," he said without missing a beat.

"Never heard of it."

"It's_so_ good." His blue eyes lit up with a boyish enthusiasm. "A Japanese variety, a cross between Golden Delicious and Indo? Also called Crispin?"

The red squirrel giggled. "Still not ringing a bell."

"Big, golden fruit, with a spicy, sweet, and honeyed-" He stopped short.

She grinned, tail arching behind her. "Go on."

"I mean, I, uh-"

"You get really excited about fruit. It's kinda weird, I'll be honest."

"Yeah ... "

"But also really cute," she added.

Cute? Me? Herkimer blushed and looked away. No.

While his gaze was averted, he spied Azalea. The brown-and-white deer mouse had finished dusting. She was mopping, now. The way her round, pink ears were swiveling told Herkimer she'd been eavesdropping on this entire conversation.

As if I weren't self-conscious enough.

"Wanna know a secret?" TK said in a stage whisper.

He looked back to her.

"I've never picked my own apples."

"What?Never?" His eyes widened.

"Shocking, I know," she said, holding up both paws in a 'surrender' gesture.

"You should! The Mutsu won't be ready 'til the end of the month, but I'll ... I'll help you pick some." He felt his throat tighten again. He reached for his canteen. "If you want ... "

"I'd like that," she said brightly, moving to the final drawer. "How long have you been here?"

"Since nine in the morning," he said, between gulps. He wiped the back of his paw against his muzzle, the container now empty. He put it back down.

"Heh! No. I meant, like-"

"Oh! Right. Um, over ten years."

"Seriously? I've never been at a job that long."

"I'm only thirty-five," he said, as if to assure her he wasn't past it.

"I just turned thirty. Does that make me a whippersnapper?"

"Do you want to be?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Whether or not I feel like getting into trouble," she said with a husky tone.

How am I supposed to respond to that? They were done removing the money. "So, I'll just-" He gathered up all the bank pouches and put them in a backpack. "I'm gonna take these to Mr. Balaton's office." He gestured with his thumb. "You can ... " He looked around. "Help Azalea?" he suggested.

"Oh, I'm almost done, too!" the deer mouse shouted to them, confirming she'd been listening in. "You two go ahead!"

"I'm in no rush," TK insisted, leaning her rump against the countertop. She crossed her arms. "I'm parked all the way in the back forty. Next to you, I think? You have the green truck, right?"

"Yeah ... "

"It's getting dark. I'd feel safer with some company. If you don't-"

"Okay. I'm just ... I'll, uh, be back in a few-" He turned and banged his hip into the corner of the counter. "Minutes." Fuck!

"You okay?" she asked, reaching a paw out to him.

"Mm-hmm," he squeaked weakly, limping away as he went to turn in the money.

September 17th

"This your secret hiding spot?" TK asked, ducking into the dimly-lit attic.

Herkimer looked up, ears arcing on either side of his silver head. Sitting on a rickety stool, he had his lunch and phone spread atop a makeshift table of cardboard boxes.

"Didn't mean to startle you," the red squirrel said, moving forward. The wooden floor made noises with each step. Paws on hips, she looked around curiously.

"Yeah, I just ... I had to get away from the crowd," he explained. With the weather turning cooler, it was no longer an oven up here.

"It's a bit of a mess."

"I'd throw out half this stuff if I could, but 'we might need it someday'," he said, repeating what Cori had relayed from Mr. Balaton.

"Like a rotary telephone?" TK said, digging through a pile of essentials. "Or a headless, legless mannequin? Female, by the shape of it."

"Her name's Gertie. Her head's here somewhere. I, uh, think she's a rabbit?"

The squirrel laughed.

"So, what brings-"

"Cider slush cups. They in this menagerie?"

"Large or small?"

"Both," she said.

"Over there." He pointed with his tail.

"Thanks." Opening a box and retrieving a few stacks of each, she tucked them under her arms. "What's on the menu, today?" She studied his meal. "Granola bar. Carrots. An apple. What kind?"

"Jonagold."

"And pistachios!" She nodded approvingly. "I _love_pistachios. In pretty much anything."

"I've had pistachio ice cream," he mentioned.

"What about muffins?"

"I usually go for blueberry."

"And that does it for you?" Her eyes took on a playful glint.

"I guess." He paused, whiskers twitching. "You, uh, want some?" he shyly offered, of his shelled stash.

"Sure."

"Red!" It was Kessler, from the bottom off the stairs. "Need those cups!"

"Coming!" the squirrel shouted back. Then, to the mouse, "I'll have to nibble on your nuts another time." With a apologetic swish of her tail, she left.

Herkimer's eyes lingering on the stairs. As he returned to his meal, he paused and looked back.

Wait, what? _ _

*October 1st *

"That's your biggest fear?" Talkeetna asked, walking alongside Herkimer through the orchard.

It was a Friday evening, the sun low to the west in a partly-cloudy sky. The air was cool, almost brisk, though not enough to prompt long sleeves. I can feel it coming, though. The cold. The long winter. Their shifts had ended, and they were off to pick apples.

The Mutsu are ready!

"Can you imagine if the internet went down when we had a huge line? No cards, only cash?" he said. "No one carries cash anymore. It would be a disaster." The mouse shuddered thinking about it. "What's yours?"

"Earthquakes."

"Earthquakes? What?"

They passed several rows of maroon-colored Jonathans. The kitchen staff used them for caramel apples. Too tart for me. Next was a solitary row of Arlet, a cross between Golden Delicious and Ida Red. A unique flavor. It'll do in a pinch.

"Any natural disaster, really," TK continued. "The New Madrid fault line is long overdue."

He shook his head, not knowing what that was.

"There's a massive quake and we're in the store? Whole place will come down on top of us. Now, a tornado? We'd presumably have _some_warning. But where would we hide?"

"Walk-in cooler?"

"Glass doors."

"Maybe the warehouse freezer?"

"I'd be concerned about-"

"We're here," he said, turning and leading her into a row of semi-dwarf trees filled with large, green-gold apples. "Not to cut our delightful conversation short."

"Heh. Sorry. So, what do I look for?" TK asked, tufted ears cocked atop her head. "How do I know which ones to pick?"

The silver mouse walked further down the row, studying them intently. "They're going to have a green color base," he said slowly. "But ... " He reached for an apple, gave it a half-turn, and moved on. "You want the ones that are partially to half-golden, with a bit of bronzing. Even a few flushes of pink."

"Are you sure you're not being a little finicky?"

"They also have to come off the tree easily. No resistance. And the seeds should be dark."

"Didn't know it was so complicated," TK said, reaching up to inspect and apple before giving it a tug. The branch shook a bit, and two other apples fell to the ground.

Herkimer winced.

"What?"

"It's, uh ... you're shaking the tree when you tug. You wanna-" He demonstrated, finding an apple, gently cupping it, and using his fingers to gently twirl and twist it until it separated cleanly from the stem. He held it up proudly. "That's all it takes."

The red squirrel, tail curled prettily behind her, smirked and said, "Squirrels and trees have a natural rapport. I think I can do this." She tried again, repeating Herkimer's motion. "Mm?" she went, holding up her fruit.

He nodded. "Better."

She tossed it to him.

Blinking, he caught it.

"Nice reflexes." She winked. "Tell me if it's a good one."

"Looks like it."

"No, I meant ... I wanna see you react to the taste."

"Why?"

"Because," she whispered.

After a moment, he shyly obliged, wiping the apple off with his shirt and bringing it up to his maw. It was nice and weighty. His thumb moved along the smooth, rounded surface and rotated it to the perfect spot before his buckteeth sunk in. The bite was satisfyingly crunchy. Clear, sugary juice dribbled off his whisker-tips. He sighed.

Oh, god! I think this might be better than-

"Let me try." The squirrel wiggled her clawed fingers, motioning for the fruit back.

He returned it, still chewing.

With both paws, she brought it to her own muzzle and took a bite. Right in the same spot he'd bitten into.

He gulped.

Did we just vicariously kiss?

He held up the empty picking bags he'd brought. "We should fill up. Before it gets dark." Fill up? Is that some kind of euphemism?

What? No! I don't think so?

"I can see," she said, licking her lips, "why you like these so much." She put on her best erudite voice as she described it like a fine wine. "I detect hints of ginger and spice. Mellow and sweet, clear and crisp, but with a just hint of astringency at the finish to keep it honest."

He giggled, handing her a half-peck picking bag.

"These should last me for about a week, right? Well. Unless my roommates get into them." She'd mentioned her roommates a few times, in passing. A rat and a gray squirrel.

Herkimer, himself, lived alone. His house was rather old and small, and there wasn't enough space for more than one bedroom. _ _

"Half-peck is about fifteen apples. You should be good. I'm picking as many as I can carry," he told her, meandering to the other side of the row. He snatched them from the branches with both paws. "Last year, they lasted me five weeks. And that was eating two a day. What I can't eat, I sauce and freeze. Then I can enjoy them all year long."

"I'm_all_ about applesauce. Especially with cinnamon in it?" TK chittered, partially out of sight. Her impossibly fluffy tail showed through the leaves and branches. "You'll have to share some."

"I will."

They went quiet for a moment.

"This is nice," she said, her bag almost full.

"Yeah. It's kind of therapeutic," the mouse agreed. He paused before saying, "Probably a combination of being in park-like setting and the repetitive motions of-" He reached, twisted, and plucked an apple from a branch, setting it in his now-full bag. "Or something," he mumbled, not finishing the thought.

Nerd.

"Any stories from today?" she asked.

"Hmm? Oh. A few." One half-bushel down, he tackled the next. "I got told I was rude over the phone."

"Sounds like fun."

"Well, a customer didn't like my answers to their questions ... "

So, I see you hold 'harvest festivals' on the weekends?

Yes, we've a lot going on. In addition to apple and pumpkin picking, there's a corn maze, tractor rides, games, donut shack and snack bar, and-

Those things have a cost attached to them?

Yes. The price varies depending on-

Is there any way we can do all of that for free?

Um. No, sorry.

You don't give exemptions to injured veterans? Who fought for your freedom?

No, I'm afraid not.

"To make matters worse, I had an actual, paying customer in front of me. Who resented not being my priority. So, finally, both the customer on the phone and the customer at the register asked to talk to Cori so they could complain about me."

I didn't even want to take the call in the first place! But it had been on its fourth ring, and he panicked.

"I'm sure she didn't take them seriously."

"Yeah." He twitched. "I just want everyone to be happy ... " _ _

"I know." The squirrel wiggled through the branches and emerged on his side of the row. "If it makes you feel any better, you make me happy."

His ears turned a shade of rosy-pink. "We, uh ... we should head back." Wow, what a romantic response. "My bags are-" He cleared his throat. "I've got what I need."

"Do you?"

The tone in her voice.

"I, uh ... " His whiskers twitched, words caught in his throat.

Maintaining a relaxed, playful demeanor, she simply moved past him and waved him along.

Carrying one bag in each arm, he followed. Why didn't you say she makes you happy, too? Talk about whiffing. Idiot.

They returned to the center aisle. The sun was setting. Ahead of them was the store, and above it clouds that glowed pink and orange. Night-bugs, including a chorus of katydids, started a staccato serenade.

"Need help?" TK asked, seeing him start to struggle.

"A little," he admitted, stopping for breath. And because the muscles in his arms were burning. _ _

She easily picked up one of his bags. "Ready when you are."

October 20th

"What time is it?"

Herkimer took his smartphone out of his pocket. In the dark, the screen glowed white. "Nine-fifteen," he said.

"That's it?"

He hadn't intended to work a twelve-hour shift. Ten-o'clock in the morning to ten at night? I don't get paid enough for this.

The orchard's annual 'flashlight night in the corn maze!' was tonight. There'd been a dozen or so takers, but all shortly after sunset. None in the past hour. I guess no one wants to spend their Friday night in the dark in the middle of nowhere.

Normally, the entrance was staffed by high schoolers. They'd take the money and hand out game sheets for the trivia stations located inside. But they called off 'sick.' Isn't it homecoming night for the local high school?

Coriander, desperate for a replacement on short notice, had come to Herkimer first.

_I'm too reliable to say no. _

Talkeetna, hearing Herkimer was staying over, told Cori she 'wouldn't mind the extra hours,' adding that it wasn't safe for someone to be 'alone on the property.'

"We advertise that it takes, what, forty minutes to go through?" TK said. "Can we leave if no one shows up in the next five minutes?" The maze closed at ten.

"I mean, I guess we could," the mouse reasoned, whiskers twitching. He glanced at the low-lying crescent moon, which was faintly orange. Very Halloween-ish. "But, knowing our luck, someone would show up a minute after we left and then leave a scathing review on social media." _Not that I ever look at our social media accounts. I'd take everything personally. _

A gust of wind whipped through their surroundings, rustling the dried out corn stalks and fallen leaves.

The red squirrel crossed her arms, ears twitching atop her head.

Herkimer put his phone back in his pocket. When the wind settled down, he could hear crickets.

"I'm chilly," TK whispered.

Without thinking, he scooted his folding chair flush to hers, arm reaching out. He drew her to his side.

She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Just a few more weeks ... "

In November, the orchard's business plummeted. Then it was a matter of taking inventory, cleaning, packing things away, and closing down in time for Thanksgiving.

Then I can regain some semblance of sanity. Not that I'll be working any less. There was always another job. _ _

She lifted her head as if to say something, pupils dilated in the dark.

"What?"

She slowly leaned in, touching her nose to his, tilting her head at such an angle that-

His lips easily meshed with hers.

The mouse's eyes widened for a second before fluttering shut.

Sucking on his muzzle, she turned her body, nearly falling out of her chair. His paws quickly steadied her.

The initial kiss ended with a clear, wet smack, but the energy it tapped spawned another. And another. Hungry and needy. Squeaky. Breathless. Her tongue entered the fray, and he didn't fight it.

She finally ditched her chair, knocking it over as she impatiently transferred to his lap. Straddling his hips, arms around his neck, she leaned her forehead against his so they could catch their breaths.

The mouse, panting hard, felt their whiskers tangling. It was such a delicate, intimate sensation, it nearly slayed him.

TK, emboldened, unzipped the mouse's jacket. He was wearing a 'staff' t-shirt beneath it, a plain-colored button-up with the orchard's logo above his heart. Her paws went to the top button. She unhooked it. Waited. And when he made no effort to stop her, she unhooked the next one, and the next, until his off-white, furry chest was exposed.

The squirrel planted both paws on his pelt and began to rub. She broke the long silence with a simple observation. "You're so warm. But-" She began to roll her hips. "You could be warmer."

Is this a dream? It's been a long day ...

She reached down for his belt, loosening it. Then she unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper, revealing his boxer-briefs.

Herkimer blushed, well aware that he was gradually leaving his sheath. He couldn't stop it. The tented evidence was there for her to see. Or feel, anyway. A cloud had moved in front of the moon. I can barely see.

"That's it," she cooed approvingly, caressing the bulge through its cotton barrier.

"Mm ... "

Her fingers danced away to hook into his belt loops. She tugged. But she couldn't get them down while sitting on his lap. She had to stand up. When she did, she dropped her own pants. Panties, too. No ceremony. Just some fumbling and a wriggle or two.

I wish it wasn't so dark!

He so badly wanted to drink in every detail of her body.

Talkeetna, leaving her shirt and jacket on, dropped to her knees and pulled the mouse's clothing past his. "Hello," she said to his cock, gently kissing her way up the shaft.

"Ah ... " Herkimer's paws went to her head.

Air rushed around his buckteeth as he sucked in a breath, her maw gently surrounding his sensitive, drooling tip and sliding downward. She bobbed a few times, careful with her own teeth. She stopped to suck before gradually twisted her way off.

The mouse, even sitting down, felt dizzy.

Talkeetna stood back up and re-straddled his lap.

The half-naked rodents, arms all over each other, kissed again. One of her paws curled in the white fur above his heart. The other wrapped itself around his erection. She squeezed.

He sat up straighter. "Ah!"

"Relax," she cooed into his ear. She loosened her grip, wagging her thumb over his glans. "Relax ... "

Herkimer lowered back down. "I'm t-trying," he stuttered.

Nose against his cheek, she said, "I've got a condom in my purse." Letting that hang, she added, "Never know when you'll need one."

Did she plan on this happening? Tonight? Is that why she volunteered?

"I want this." She blew into one of his big, erogenous ears, the fingers on his chest lifting to his muzzle. She traced his lips. "I want you."

"I want you, too." He heard himself say it. But it was like having an out-of-body experience. Even as he kissed and nibbled at her fingers, flooded with desire, another part of him was frantically worrying. You're supposed to be responsible, Herkimer! What if-

"I thought I told you to relax."

"We're at work," he reminded.

"Is that really the issue?"

"It's safe to say I've never done this on the clock!" He'd meant it as a joke, but it came out far more manically.

She rubbed his chest, right above his heart, trying to calm him. "What about off it?"

"It's been ... " He faltered. A long time.

"I can tell you're lonely."

"I never said I was."

"You didn't have to." She mouthed on his cheek. "It's gotta be past nine-thirty, now. No one else is coming. There aren't security cameras out here ... are there?" She paused, not having considered that.

"Not on this part of the property, no."

"So, what's stopping us?" She returned to his ear, promising, "I won't tell if you don't. We deserve this."

She has a point. We cater to others' wants and whims all day long. What about ours? Work takes enough of our time. We're just ... reclaiming some of it.

He reached for the ground, retrieving her purse. He gave it to her, and she opened it, transferring a square wrapper to his paw.

Herkimer, attempting to open it, dropped it in her lap. He squinted, losing it momentarily in the dark. "I'm ... I'm sorry, I-"

"Herkimer," she said, noticing his paws were trembling. She covered them with hers.

"I really like you," he admitted vulnerably, avoiding eye contact. He was afraid he would cry or something if he looked into her eyes right now.

"I like you, too," she whispered, retrieving the condom. "Let me show you how much?" She carefully opened it. "Want me to do the honors?"

"Okay ... "

The cloud that had been covering the moon finally passed. They now had a bit more light. White and milky, it cast everything in a soft haze. She placed the latex ring on his tip and rolled it downward until he was snugly covered.

"Feel alright?" she asked.

"Yes."

This is really going to happen, isn't it?

The red squirrel flagged her tail and left her straddle to hover above his lap. "Guide us together."

He grabbed his erection with one paw and placed the other on her side. Soon enough, he felt the heat of her pussy against his tip. He angled himself at her opening.

"I'll take it the rest of the way," she said, sinking down around him. She was wet, silky smooth, and, oh, so hot. If he'd ever felt anything hotter, he had no memory of it.

He sighed heavily, ropy tail curling aside.

The squirrel, taking him to the hilt, touched her nose to his while his fuzzy, swollen balls nestled to her petals below. "Comfy?" she asked.

He moaned. She fits me like a glove.

"Me, too."

She lifted her reddish hips only to drop back down, grinding firmly before lifting, making him feel and remember her weight. She repeated the motion, and each time it was quicker and smoother until she was riding him with abandon, his balls audibly slapping against her vulva.

Slack-jawed, Herkimer pressed his nose to her neck.

One of her jacketed arms went around his shoulders. The other extended between them so she could rub at her clitoris.

"Mmf," the mouse went, paws traveling to her athletic, bushy-tailed rump. He grabbed it. He didn't know why. He just wanted to. "Mm!"

"Oh ... "

Already, the mouse felt his cock tingling. In that certain way that indicated a point of no return. He tried to warn her, but he could only squeak and cry out as he hit his peak. His cock jumped and jerked, ballooning the tip of his condom with his seed. "Ah, ahn ... hah!"

The squirrel, realizing he'd reached orgasm, stopped bouncing so as not to over-stimulate him. Instead, her focus shifted entirely to herself, red paw furiously rubbing her clit. Her tail flickered and raised, head lolling to the side. "Oh ... mm, hmm!" She chittered and slumped against his chest as she, too, received her reward.

He felt her climax. Those clenches and spasms. His paws went under her shirt and jacket, into her bare back-fur, as he held her close.

Huffing, they rubbed their faces together.

_I was wrong. This is way better than Mutsu. _

"I wanted to last longer," he finally said, still regaining his breath. "I'm sorry. I just ... I'm so tired, and-"

"Hush, Mousey. I'm not complaining." Her fingers left her clit, idly gaging how damp she'd made their loins. "If you _really_want to get more in synch, we'll just have to practice," she added, looking into his eyes.

How can I turn down an invitation like that? "Maybe in bed next time?" Not that cold, dark cornfields aren't a turn-on.

"Your place or mine?" she purred.

"I don't have roommates to worry about."

"You_are_ pretty noisy."

"I am?"

"Mm-hmm." Their noses touched. "It's adorable." _ _

He blushed and breathed of her. Only her. Nothing else matters. "Thank you ... "

"For what?"

"Being my friend."

After an emotional pause, she whispered back, "Thank you for being mine."

They hugged and nuzzled, silent but buzzing.

Eventually, with the afterglow wearing off and the wind gusting again, Herkimer said, "We should probably get dressed."

"Yeah." She sat up straight. "We gotta _clock_out, don't we?" she said, chuckling at the wordplay as she lifted off his cock. "We both have shifts in the morning," she reminded.

Ugh. I almost forgot.

The squirrel, standing, stepped back into her pants and panties while the seated mouse rolled his condom off, tossing it into a trash bag meant for discarded maze sheets. In the chill, his penis quickly retreated into his sheath.

"We can leave the chairs and table out here," he said, wriggling as he pulled his underwear and pants back up. "They'll use them again tomorrow."

"What time is it, now?" she asked as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

He stood up and checked his phone again. "Almost nine forty-five."

They headed back to the store.

In the blustery, autumn dark, her fingers sought his.

He held her paw all the way back.

November 21st

"It was a pleasure having you, TK!" Cori said above the chatter. The chipmunk took a seat opposite Talkeetna.

The staff, indoor and out, was gathered in the apple room for their year-end farewell luncheon. The doors were shut to protect from the gray, drizzly cold, and the space was filled with tables and chairs. Portable heaters hummed in the background.

"It was a pleasure being had," the red squirrel said with a sly smile, her foot-paw rubbing against Herkimer's ankle under the table.

The silver mouse, sitting beside her, pretended he was thinking about eating his food rather than her. He'd developed a strong taste for squirrel over the past month.

"Well, if you're able, we'd love to have you back next year!"

"I'll definitely keep in touch," TK promised.

"She has to. She's one of us, now," Azalea said from the end of the table, sucking noodles into her maw.

"Have you tried my apple crackle cake?" Kessler interrupted as she, too, took a seat.

"You_always_ bring desserts."

"Yeah, and what did you bring?" the cardinal accused. "Chips?"

"Plates and utensils."

"Oh,well."

"You know I can't cook."

As they bantered, Talkeetna exchanged a private look with Herkimer.

"What?" he asked, looking into her green eyes.

"When it's happening, the busy season is so stressful. But, now, I'm kinda getting ... wistful?" She tilted her head. "Is that weird?"

"That's called Stockholm Syndrome."

TK laughed.

"But I know what you mean," he added, tail threading around hers.

The squirrel, taking a sip of hot cider, said, "I heard it's supposed to be a long, cold winter."

"Is it?"

"Mm-hmm."

For once, the mouse wasn't worried.

I'm sure we'll find ways to keep warm.