FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Are you sure they don't mind me hanging around?" Meadow asked Fib, of his colleagues. The two harvest mice were at the TV station where Fib worked, in the brand new 'waiting area' just off-set. "That otter keeps looking at me ... "

At least Opal isn't here yet. Or that coyote guy. Those two were the noon-time anchors. They didn't approve of Meadow very much. Or, at least, she'd once overheard them making dismissive comments about both her and Fib.

"Mm?" Fib went, clearly distracted.

Meadow's whiskers twitched. She inched a little bit closer to her boyfriend. "Maybe I should go back to your office?"

"You're fine, babe," the male harvest mouse assured, flashing a quick, bucktoothed smile. "You're practically an insider, now." He had a tablet in one paw, brushing up on the forecast before he went on to present it.

"Yeah, but--"

"I'm on in five minutes." Fib pecked a quick kiss to her golden cheek-fur. "Gotta go!" he said before scurrying off.

Meadow found a cushioned chair, taking a seat. She slumped back and closed her eyes. So tired. It was morning. Seven-something, closing in on eight. She had the day off from her secretary job at the dentist's office, so she'd tagged along with Fib.

Normally, he'd take Meadow out to lunch afterward to someplace downtown. Maybe even shopping. He liked to impress her. To be fair, everything is fancy when you're a country girl. But Fib was morning _and_noon weather, so he wouldn't be done until 12:30.

Passing the time wasn't too hard. She always watched the actual newscasts. Brought books to read. Fiddled on her phone.

If I wasn't here, I'd just be at home on my computer, pants-less, putting off chores and errands to read about how we're all going to die in thirty years from climate change. Or how measles is back because people stopped believing science. Or how the current administration is totally full of--

"And we're to break!" the set director yelled. "Fib, you'll be up next!"

One thing Meadow had learned was that local news was a_far_ different beast than national news. National news was unafraid to say or do anything. National news loved controversy. Local news, by contrast, was absolutely terrified of it. With a smaller, more like-minded audience, regional affiliates shied away from reporting on anything that might challenge viewers and prompt them to switch the channel.

Regardless of the reasons, it resulted, especially during the morning and noon shows when a mostly older audience was watching, in a lot of inoffensive 'fluff.' Also, murders. Those were okay cause they weren't deemed 'political.'

"Wait, scratch that, Fib. We're going to bump you back a few minutes. We want the top-of-the-hour viewers to see our new sets."

To better compete with the other entities in town, Fib's station had remodeled their sets to be more 'stylish' and 'relevant' and 'high-tech.' And other such buzzwords. They weren't being fully debuted until next week, but the viewers were being offered 'teaser' previews every day until then, to make them aware the change was coming.

"Hello, miss."

Meadow, snapping out of her thoughts, sat up straight and blinked. It was that otter. The one who'd been staring at her. "Oh, um ... hi."

"I'm Baxter," he said. Standing in front of (and towering over) her, he extended a webbed paw.

"Uh, M-meadow," she stammered, taking Baxter's paw. He shook hers. His grip was firm. Like most otters, he had a rich, dense pelt which masked the sturdy, discreetly muscular body of a swimmer. Not to mention that thick rudder of a tail which made it impossible not to notice his fine, shapely--

"Haven't seen you around before. I'm sorta new. Started just last week! Sports department," he said, releasing her paw. "Was in Idaho previously. I'm so glad to be in a bigger market. Indy actually has pro teams! And racing! All I had was rinky-dink college and high school games back in Boise."

Overcome with shyness, ears turning red, the petite mouse could only mumble, "Yeah ... "

Baxter chuckled, finding her reaction to be rather cute. He crossed his arms, putting aside the small talk. "You here with someone?"

Meadow looked around nervously, as if afraid to make prolonged eye contact. "I'm ... I'm with--"

"The weather guy, right?"

"Yeah," Meadow said again.

His tail touched the floor. "Thought that might be the case."

Does he sound ... disappointed? He does. His voice totally dipped.

"Well, I should go." He jabbed a thumb down the hall. "Maybe we'll bump into each other again?"

"M-maybe ... "

The otter grinned, tail lifting. He'd put his foot in the door, leaving her unable or unwilling to completely shut it. "I'd like that." He winked before he wandered away, indicating she hadn't seen the last of him. "Later, Meadow!"

"Mm-hmm," she went, heart hammering. Even after Baxter was out of sight, the mouse was rattled. Oh, my gosh. A rugged sports otter from Idaho? And he likes me! Just because I have a boyfriend doesn't mean I can't admit or be flattered by that. Her whiskers twitched. _Right? _

Meadow swallowed, trying not to feel guilty. He was the one who had approached her! It's not like she'd been flirting with him. Looking up, the mouse saw Fib on one of the closed-circuit TV screens, conferring with a colleague.

I need something to drink.

Standing up, Meadow went to the refreshments cart. Standing in front of it, she reached for a bottle of water and stopped. Her blue eyes widened.

What the holy hell?!

Who had organized this? Or, more to the point: who had_unorganized_ it?

Water was mixed in with granola bars and crackers, juice with cookies, soda with fruit. Everything upside down, the direction of the labels not matching at all. Chaos. Unacceptable! Meadow looked around, whiskers stiffening in a frazzled way.

We're living in a society!

Sighing, the harvest mouse shook her head and began to tidy and organize the cart. As a mouse, it was her OCD duty to save everyone from this.

Why do I have to do everything?

Behind her, she could hear the newscast return from break.

"It's time for 'What's Happening! With Roslyn'," said a peppy tabby cat. She usually did 'on location' shoots at local events. Bike rides, farmers markets, strawberry festivals. Harmless stuff. "Only, this time, it's happening ... in our own studio!" She giggled and purred. "Now, at Channel 13, we realize our viewers live high-tech lives in the Circle City. They want a high-tech newscast to match! We're planning on delivering that."

Meadow picked up a banana, studying it carefully. Was that discoloration a bruise? As long as someone eats it today. She put it to the left, picking up an apple. It was red. She felt it up, checking for knobs on the bottom. No knobs. Wasn't a red delicious then. Probably a Fuji. She was unimpressed. Green apples were better. Next, some oranges. Still firm. Still good. Soon, she had all the fruit arranged alphabetically.

"Now, as the camera follows me ... right, there we go, you can see our brand spanking new sets! We're still putting the finishing touches on them, so they'll officially debut next Monday morning. Aren't they spiffy?"

Meadow began to arrange the drinks, now. She put them in alphabetical order and then stopped. Her whiskers twitched. No. No, that didn't look right. Dammit.

"When these are completed, we'll take the old ones down and move these over. No, you can't purchase the old sets! Though wouldn't it be fun to have a news room in your basement?"

Annoyed, Meadow began to reshuffle the beverages. They needed to be lined up by size. Short cans first, tall bottles after. Yes. That looked way better.

"I feel like I'm on a spaceship! Look at the size of that big screen! Yes, it's a touchscreen, too! We'll be able to interact with our viewers in real-time!"

Meadow's ears swiveled. Does she have to shout everything? It's not that exciting ...

After another minute, Roslyn wrapped up her piece and Meadow finished organizing the cart. The harvest mouse stepped back and inspected it, paws on hips. Her tail looped about. She nodded. She could live with it.

Oh, and she was still thirsty. She grabbed a bottle of water, opened it, and took several gulps before wandering back to one of the cushioned chairs. She sank into it just in time to see Fib's weather segment come on.

He gave the temperatures in various towns across the region first, highs and lows, precipitation totals from the last twenty-four hours, and then moved into today's outlook.

"This morning, we already have a little rain to the north, but we can expect that to remain light. No threats there. But ... " The weather map zoomed in and the male harvest mouse gesticulated with his tail. "I'm watching this bad boy here," he said, of a yellow-orange storm system. "Over St. Louis. Now, as it drifts to the east, it could pose a threat to us mid-afternoon."

The map returned to Indiana.

"In the meantime, what a great start to the day! How about this: we've had _one_eighty-degree day this month. It's June! Well, well below normal. But we're projected to reach that late this afternoon. Enjoy it while it lasts, though, cause we're down to the high 60's the rest of the week." The seven-day forecast came up next. "As you can see, the cold front comes in, bringing all-day rain tomorrow. Highs of seventy, seventy-two, sixty-seven, sixty-five ... won't even get back into the eighties until middle of next week."

"Doesn't feel quite like summer yet, does it, Fib?" one of the co-anchors, a female skunk, asked.

"No, Sakona, it doesn't. But summer won't be denied forever. It's on its way!" he assured brightly.

Sakona gave an obligatory chuckle and looked straight at the camera, switching to her serious face. "Prosecutors say a Moorsville jewelry store owner has been ripping off customers by passing off imitations as real diamonds ... "

His forecast over, Meadow stood up, clutching her half-empty water bottle as she waited for Fib.

The golden mouse rounded the corner.

Meadow waited a moment, swaying her hips before coyly asking, "You, uh, notice anything?"

"You organized the refreshment cart!" Fib said immediately.

Meadow giggled. "You passed the test," she said brightly.

"So, I'm a real mouse, now?" he teased, putting a paw on her back.

"Mm-hmm. It's official."

"I got twenty minutes 'til my next segment. Gonna take a quick glance at some new forecast models on my computer in my office. Wanna come?"

"Well, that sounds too exciting to pass up," Meadow said. "So, I guess I have to say yes."

"Do I detect sarcasm in your tone, Butterscotch?" Fib said as they left the set and went down the hall behind it, where the offices were.

She blushed at his nickname for her. "Me? Never. I'm as innocent as the day is long."

"We talking summer or winter days?"

Meadow whipped her tail at him.

Fib squeaked.

Later that afternoon, Meadow was in Fib's bed, kicking off her panties and wriggling out of her bra. Her skirt and t-shirt were already on the carpet along with Fib's slacks. The buck had gotten handsy as soon as they'd gotten in the door, and she'd been more than receptive.

Streaming through the bedroom windows, sunlight splashed over Meadow's gold-and-cream body. She stretched her arms over her head in a submissive, vulnerable pose, practically glowing. Her breasts heaved. Her sex was pink, pouty, and wet.

Fib, standing at the foot of the bed, boxer-briefs visibly tented, unbuttoned his shirt. Top to bottom, until it hung open on his shoulders. He stared at her dumbly. "Ooh ... "

"Your underwear's blocking my view," she teased, pointing with her tail.

"My apologies." He giggled, stripping them off. His cock bobbled, thick and stiff, pointing straight up. "Better?"

She sucked air. "Uh-huh ... "

Fib shrugged his shirt off, crawling into bed after her. "I wanna nibble you up."

"By all means," Meadow replied, bending her knees and opening her thighs.

Lowering to his belly, Fib hooked his arms around her legs and dipped his head, nose sniffing. He paused. "You're coming into heat?"

"You sound surprised."

"Has it really been a month?" His head lifted to make eye contact, pupils dilating with intense arousal. "That why I'm so horny for you today?"

"Surely you can come up with a more romantic explanation than that," she said. Even if it is true. "Maybe I should close my legs until you find one."

"Hmm." He mouthed on her thigh-fur, nuzzling his way toward her loins. "You sure you wanna do that?"

He's calling my bluff. Say something!

"I, uh ... well ... "

"I got you into bed before I knew you were in heat. Proves I'm horny for you all the time! That's how much I love you."

"You're such a poet," Meadow said sarcastically. Nonetheless, she reached for Fib's shoulders.

Giggling, the buck went down on her.

Meadow arched her back. "Oh ... "

One of Fib's strong paws spread on her belly and kept her in place as his tongue-tip danced on her clitoris.

Meadow gasped. "Oh!" Her pink paws left her mate's shoulders, going to his head. His big, dishy ears were hot with blood. Her paws brushed against them, rubbing both lobes. The backs and the rims. Everything.

"Mmm," Fib groaned, eyes closing, jaw moving. "Mmmf ... "

Meadow's head rolled from one side to another.

Fib had to stop to rest his tongue and regain his breath. He nuzzled her thighs for a moment. "You ... you taking off work tomorrow?" he panted.

"No. I still ... ah," she sighed, feeling Fib's tongue dive back into her depths. Apparently, he had already recovered! His tongue wiggled before retracting for a broad, slow lick, all the way up to her clitoris. "Ah!" Meadow realized she'd never finished her sentence, but he probably knew what she meant.

"You'll have to use quite a scent dampener to hide this," Fib said, between mouthfuls, between licks and kisses and swirls. Meadow felt like an ice cream cone, melting with each touch of his mouth.

"Well, I'll have my clothes on, won't I?" Meadow replied. "And ... ah, ahh ... if people get distracted by me, they can blame their s-state legi ... s-slature." Indiana didn't offer as many paid leave benefits as some states did. Another gasp. "Oh, Fib ... !"

"You close?" he whispered sultrily, unhooking his arms from her legs.

Meadow stretched her limbs a little. She nodded weakly. "A-almost ... "

"I wanna try something." Fib pulled back, getting to his knees. His long, ropy tail snaked toward hers. Slowly, gently, it coiled around hers to form a double helix of mouse tails.

"What are you doing?" Meadow asked, not quite understanding yet.

"Oh, just a little something I like to call ... 'double tail sex'," he said after a dramatic pause.

"Double?" Meadow had masturbated with her own tail before. She did it all the time. Now and then, Fib would use his on her. As a species, when you had uniquely long, slender, fur-less, prehensile tails that could comfortably fit into certain openings ... well, how could you not use it for gratification? But two_tails? At once? She flushed. _I've never done that. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was something else. But the thought drove her wild.

Fib smiled and instructed, "Just leave yours lax. I'll control the motions." Curving and arcing around and between limbs, the twin tips zeroed in on Meadow's pussy. Fib didn't ask if she was ready. All his senses told him she was. He pushed the tails inside her.

Meadow's head sunk back onto a pillow, sinking into the middle. She closed her eyes, buckteeth jutting as she bit her lower lip.

Fib, on his knees between her, had those tails three, four inches deep when he began to thrust the tapered tips in and out of her vagina. They emerged glistening each time.

"Oh ... gosh!" Meadow panted. She was almost as turned on by the idea of what was happening than the actual sensation. A tail was nice enough, but it was still no replacement for a cock. She wanted all of him.

It didn't matter, though. It felt good, and she was worked up. She tried to warn him, but she came suddenly, twitching and squeaking, wracked with ecstatic muscular spasms. "Oh! Oh ... "

Fib, unable to get more erect than he was, watched her expression. It made his cock dribble and twitch. "My Meadow," he breathed, pulling their tails out. They were wet with her juices. He uncoiled his from hers so he could lay on top of her, hips bumping and grinding. "Hold on, babe."

Meadow did. She hugged with him everything she had. Arms, legs, and her tail.

Fib penetrated her again, this time with his penis, which he immediately began to thrust in and out. Fast, full thrusts. Ball-slapping, breast-bouncing, bed-rocking thrusts!

Meadow panted audibly. Fib's own scent, though not currently as strong as hers, was still a familiar, comforting presence. She breathed him in, soaking in his warmth, his strength. Fib worked out twice a week to keep fit for the cameras, and she could feel it. Oh, could she! His trim muscles flexing, his seemingly endless stamina. The force of his thrusts! The softness of his short, golden fur, the light bathing them through the window. This was the poetry he had been unable to voice. He was acting it out. They were acting it out. The two harvest mice were like flames, dancing, combining forces to become a raging fire of passion.

"Mmmmh, Meadowwww," Fib moaned, indirectly warning her he was about to blow.

She beat him to it. Meadow came, and it was like a bomb had gone off, her consciousness blown apart and scattered into a scintillating void. The mouse remembered screaming. Squeaking. Remembered her blunt claws digging into Fib's backside. She could feel his cock throbbing, the masculine power unleashed inside her, spurt after spurt of potent, unfiltered mouse seed. And, oh, she enjoyed it! She needed it! Every lewd second. It was the highest of highs, and it left her completely winded.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Fib just rubbed her naked, furry body with his pink, fleshy paws. Eventually, he asked, "You okay?"

"Wow," was all Meadow said, eyes half-open, extremities tingling. How many minutes had passed? She didn't know. Time had become an abstract concept. She just closed her eyes, nuzzling Fib with her nose.

"Mmf ... good, huh?" Fib murmured, rubbing his cheek to hers before reluctantly pulling out of her and flopping onto his back beside her. His cock was softening. The buck's white chest rapidly rose and fell. He was still catching his breath. Her reached for one of her paws, lacing their fingers together.

"Five stars," Meadow agreed.

"I think I should get a six when you include the tail thing."

She bit back a smile. "Don't push it, mister."

"No?" Fib turned to face her, his free paw fondling one of her breasts. The one above the doe's heart.

"Mm ... " Meadow's paws went to her lover's back, rubbing up and down. "Gotta have goals, I guess."

"Exactly."

Meadow's phone buzzed. It was on the bedside table. She ignored it, but then it buzzed again. And again. Was someone calling her? She hated talking on the telephone. She sighed and reached for it. It was Petra. She'd sent several texts.

'Hey, mousey, you gotta see this!' 'Text me when you're free!' 'Are you free yet?'

'Good grief, Petra,' Meadow sent.

'You weren't responding! And you've gotta see this.'

'I was busy,' Meadow insisted.

'Fucking Fib?'

'You don't know that.'

'Oh, sorry, he fucks you. Cause you're a shy, little sub.'

Meadow made a real-life face and typed back calmly: 'What did you want to show me?'

'I already sent you the link above! Twice!'

'Oh ... I see it now.'

'You must be delirious from all the orgasms you had. You're in heat, right? How many was it?'

Meadow hesitated and typed back. 'Two.' Tap-a-tap-a-tap. 'So far. But I'm watching the video, now! Stop interrupting me!'

"That your friend?" Fib asked, having been watching Meadow's face. He wasn't able to read the screen from his angle.

"Yeah." Meadow looked to Fib with a slight frown. "Why do you act like I only have one?"

Fib didn't say anything, so as not to incriminate himself. _ _

Meadow's eyes widened.

"What?" Fib asked, noticing her expression.

"On the news this morning? That ... when that cat was doing that set tour?"

"Roslyn, yeah."

"I was in the camera shot!"

"Really?" He took the phone from her, watching the video. It had been posted by the official station account, and then someone else locally had taken the video and zoomed in on Meadow. "Hah!" He watched it closely. "You must really be in heat. Look at the way you're studying that banana ... "

"It had a bruise!" Meadow swiped her phone back.

He smirked. "Bet you wanted to peel it to find out for sure."

"Fib ... "

"When the set's moved to its normal location, you won't be able to see the waiting area from this angle. Guess they forgot. A little screw-up. No big deal. It's not like you're filling the frame."

"No big deal?! Look how many views this has. Like, eighteen thousand views," Meadow said, beginning to fret. "I bet Petra has already shown this to everyone at work. They're all going to make fun of me tomorrow. Look, there's even a hashtag. SqueakyCleanGirl."

"Heh. What's wrong with that?" Fib put a paw on her belly, scratching her pelt with his claws. "Isn't it true?"

"That's not the point!"

"It'll blow over by the morning, Meadow. Attention spans are too short."

"Maybe ... "

The phone buzzed. Petra, again. 'So, what do you think?!'

'I don't know why me cleaning a messy cart would be interesting to anybody.'

'Cause it's cute! And cause you're a mouse,' Petra stated.

'I'm not sure if that's specist or not?'

'Oh, come off it. Ask Fibster to stuff you with a sense of humor next time.'

'I gotta go,' Meadow typed, getting a little flustered.

'Remember to take your pill!'

'I will.' Meadow softened. 'Thanks.'

Meadow put the phone back on the bedside desk and stared at the ceiling. Her whiskers twitched. "The more people that see this," she said aloud, of the viral post, "the more people are going to recognize me, which means the more people are going to talk to me ... " That meant she'd have to socialize more. What a disaster!

Fib, letting her stew for a bit, folded his arm and put his paws behind his head. He suavely opined, "Would've thought if you were gonna go viral at work, it would've been cause I proposed to you on camera or something."

"You better_not do that." She'd always felt that surprise, on-air proposals unfairly pressured the person, always the female, into saying yes. Because of the specter of the audience and the desire to placate them. _Besides, I'd probably faint! "I'm not ready, anyway," Meadow said.

"My contract has another 9 months on it. I should find out next spring whether I'll be here long term." Fib knew that was one of Meadow's concerns. She didn't want to marry him and then have him get hired away by a station in Random Town, Nebraska, or something, and have to move there. Not that Indiana was the best place ever. But it was her lifelong home.

Meadow nodded vulnerably and turned onto her side, pressing up against him.

"I want what you want," Fib promised.

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm."

"And what if I'm not satisfied?" Meadow snuggled up to him, laying her head on his handsome chest. Their sticky tails crossed paths.

"I'd say give me a few more minutes, and I'll see what I can do." Fib lowered his arms and rubbed at her sides. "Not all of us can have multiple orgasms."

"I guess that makes us superior," Meadow crowed, of female-kind. She turned, smiled, and pushed off him, straddling her mate.

"You want to be worshipped? I can do that." Fib reached up and grabbed at her breasts.

Meadow's ears blushed. "I couldn't handle being a goddess." She squeaked as he rubbed at her nipples. "I'm too submissive."

"You don't look it right now, mounted atop me."

"It's a mirage," she insisted.

"You are a little more ... forthright," Fib said, rubbing her nipples, "when you're in heat."

"Yeah, well, that's like saying someone does wilder things when they're crazy." Meadow shivered helplessly, tracing a finger up and down his sternum. "Being in heat is like ... a temporary form of madness. You know? You can't keep still. You can't control yourself." Her eyes lost focus. She remembered an incident from a few years ago ...

She'd been in heat when the internet repairman had shown up at her house. An otter. He'd needed to get inside to fix the problem. He'd ended up fixing something inside, alright. More than he'd anticipated.

I still can't believe I did that! Oh, my gosh. I never saw him again, either. Is that why Baxter turned me on so much, today? The otter connection? Though he's much more strapping than the repairman ...

"Babe?"

"Mm? Oh ... uh ... " Where was I? "It's like something is consuming you, and you can't do anything but let it? A tenacious fire. You douse it and it comes right back."

"You make it sound like a horror movie," Fib said, raising a brow. "I thought it felt good for you?" He couldn't help but add a smooth, "Feels good for me."

Meadow resisted the urge to slug his shoulder. "It does ... feel good, I mean. For me. But it also doesn't? It's complicated!"

"Um. Well ... " The buck was running out of things to say on the topic.

She felt a little bad for ruining their 'afterglow' with her rambling. Not everything has to be micro-analyzed. "I'm sorry," the mouse breathed.

"Don't be."

Meadow moved to kiss him, the phone lying long-forgotten on the sheets. "I love you," she said, quietly, more than a little vulnerable.

"I love you, too, Butterscotch," Fib said, kissing her back and goosing her rump. "My golden girl."

Meadow squeaked at that. A happy squeak.

With Fib ready for another go and her instincts flaring up again, she forgot all about the 'viral' video. It was neat that she was getting attention (according to some), but it would all blow over by tomorrow.

"Wow, this really blew up!" Petra said, shoving her phone at Meadow.

The harvest mouse had barely gotten in the door at the dentist's office, wandering behind the counter. She opened some filing cabinets. Petra had already turned the lights and everything on. Now, Meadow had to get the papers for today's appointments prepped.

"Huh?" Meadow went distractedly. She hadn't slept well last night. Home alone in the countryside. The heat. Tossing, turning. Masturbating. Showering. Vivid, erotic dreams about that otter, Baxter, which had shaken her upon waking. And then some idiot cardinals chirping liquid steel notes at five in the morning, which cut right through the walls. She had to put in earplugs.

"That thing with you on the news!" Petra booted up the computers. "Someone famous re-tweeted it. Or, well ... they appropriated it. Anyway, they have a few million followers. Look." She passed Meadow her phone.

Meadow, whiskers twitching, glanced at the screen.

what this mouse b cleaning like???

"That's it?" Meadow's whiskers twitched. "Great, I was boosted by someone who doesn't know grammar."

"Look beneath it."

Meadow's blue eyes bulged. "Eighty-thousand likes?!"

"I know! And some of the responses are hilarious. Some of them have even memed you."

Meadow scrolled through some of the replies:

'mouse b cleaning like she's the president's lawyers hiding the evidence'

'like her boyfriend just left and her other boyfriend is coming over'

"They're okay, I guess ... "

Petra rolled her eyes. "Look at the memes, though!"

Meadow kept looking.

There was a picture of her holding a banana with a comment too lewd to say out loud. "Oh, my gosh." She blushed.

Petra snickered.

Then there were double pics of her holding an apple and her holding an orange with the caption 'choose your weapon.'

"Heh." Meadow giggled. "Alright, I like that one."

Their bosses came in. The dentists and dental hygienists. The two rodents quickly put their phones away and resumed their opening-time checklist.

"You wearing a scent blocker?" Petra asked Meadow discreetly.

"Among other things," the mouse replied tiredly. "God forbid we get paid heat leave."

"You look feverish." The brown rat sounded a little worried.

"I have it bad this time," Meadow admitted. "I wish I was with Fib ... "

"Aw! I'm a cynic, but that's cute."

"What is? Wanting someone?"

"It's so quaint," Petra said, her thicker rat-tail whipping about.

"Oh, I forgot, you're into some ones . How many partners do you have?"

"Five. Three male, two female. You should try it."

"I can barely handle being with myself. Being with five other people? Yeah, that's not going to work."

"Excuses, excuses."

Sometimes, Meadow wondered if the rat was sending her subtle invitations. She's always interested in my sex life. Meadow sighed. I'm either oblivious or dense. Probably a little of both.

"Patient alert," Petra said, nodding at the front door.

It opened, and someone came in.

Meadow put on her best 'I'm friendly and helpful and happy to be here' smiley face. Luckily, mice were very good at putting people at ease. Which is why Meadow was the seat closest to the door and not Petra. Rats had a tendency toward bluntness. Petra stuck to scheduling and phone calls and computer work. There was a third secretary, a chipmunk named Sesqui, but it was her day off. Meadow got along with her just fine, but she had a closer relationship with Petra. Lord knows why.

"Hello, sir," Meadow said to the patient. According to the schedule, he was here to have a cavity filled. "I'll need your name and your dental insurance, if you have any."

"Sure thing," the raccoon said. He squinted, and then pointed at Meadow. "Hey. I know you ... "

"Well, I've worked here for quite a while." His file indicated he was a returning patient.

"No, you're the Squeaky Clean Girl! From that video!" The raccoon looked around the office and nodded. "You do nice work." Done checking in, he was summoned by a hygienist and went into the back.

"I'm not a maid," Meadow grumbled, slumping back in her cushioned swivel-chair. Though, yeah, she was_in charge of tidying the office. But that was a lucky guess! The mouse looked over at Petra and frowned. "What are _you staring at?"

"You? In a maid outfit?" The rat arched a furred brow, giving a little huff. "Girl ... "

Later that day, Meadow and Fib left the movie theater. They'd just seen one of the latest superhero blockbusters, Captain Rabbit: Snow Soldier.

It was Friday evening, and neither of them had work the next day, so Fib didn't have to worry about waking up at 4 AM. And Meadow didn't need to be at her house to be at work tomorrow.

As he got in the car and buckled his seatbelt, Fib mused, "I wonder if Captain Rabbit comes into heat ... "

"What?" Meadow, seeing his far-off look, scoffed teasingly. "Like you'd be able to handle her?"

"I might!" Fib blinked and started the engine, pulling out of his parking spot and zipping toward the exit of the lot.

Meadow looked out the window. It must've rained while they were inside. The pavement was glistening. The tires splashed through some puddles. "Weren't you complaining she was too powerful?"

"When?"

"During the movie. You leaned into my ear and started grumbling."

"It's a glaring plot hole," Fib said, car now on the street. With the traffic, his house was barely ten minutes away. "If she can destroy entire fleets of ships by herself, why isn't she on all the missions?"

"Because Earth isn't the center of the universe. Maybe she's off saving other planets?"

"I mean, I still appreciate her."

"Obviously," Meadow said dryly.

Things went quiet for a moment.

Meadow reached for the radio controls, turning the audio on and finding one of her favorite stations.

"What's this?" Fib asked, ears swiveling.

"Music."

"I know, but ... " Fib's whiskers twitched at the candy-pop song.

Meadow noticed and said, "Want me to change it?"

"No, it's fine."

Meadow rubbed her eyes and said, "You haven't even mentioned my fifteen minutes."

"Of what? Internet fame?"

"Well ... " She lowered her paws to her lap.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. That you're happy for me?"

"You're not even happy for yourself," Fib quipped. "You hate this much attention."

"That's beside the point," Meadow said stubbornly. Even if it is true. "I think you're jealous."

"Jealous?" Fib echoed, voice entering a higher pitch.

"Cause you've never gone viral. How long have you been at that station? Two years? Maybe you need to rap the weather report or something."

"Have you ever seen a mouse rap?" he said.

"Or wear a green suit so that you look like a floating head and tail on the screen?"

"Every meteorologist knows it's not easy to plan a viral moment," Fib defended, flicking his turn signal, checking his mirrors, and and changing lanes. His tail, through the tail-gap in his chair, furled about in the backseat of the car. "You gotta do something that the bosses will be okay with and that the public will eat up. Getting both onboard is tricky. If you fall flat, you'll be in an awkward place."

"You could always try cursing. Or drawing a suspiciously penis-looking arrow."

"It really has to be spontaneous. Trust me."

"I suppose," Meadow said with a sigh. She wriggled restlessly, adjusting her seatbelt. She looked out the window again. So much light pollution in town. Can't even see the stars. Bright, neon business signs made the sky glow pink.

"Speaking of 'attention'," Fib said, not so casually, slowing for a stop light. "I saw you talking to Baxter the other day ... "

"Who?" She blinked. "Oh, the otter? So?"

"He's a playboy, Meadow."

"I thought he was a sportscaster."

"You know what I mean," he said, giving his mate a side-eye.

"Worried?" Meadow teased.

"No." Fib's voice wavered slightly. "I'm just--"

"You're the one who wants to sleep with Captain Rabbit," Meadow pointed out.

"Like you wouldn't? She's Captain Rabbit," Fib emphasized fanboyishly.

"I'm straight."

Fib tilted his head. "Not according to your rat friend."

"Her name's Petra. You should know that by now." Meadow blushed. "And doesn't know what she's talking about ... "

"She seemed pretty confident."

"Anyway, when were you talking to her?" About my 'alleged' bi-curiousness, no less?

"When we went out for pizza. Few weeks ago."

Meadow's whiskers twitched.

When they finally reached Fib's house, Fib's phone rang. It was the station. He took the call while Meadow wandered into the kitchen. She wanted cookies. Plural. More than one. She was nibbling on her second golden sandwich cookie (with some kind of 'limited edition' filling) when Fib came back.

"So," he drawled.

"What is it?" Meadow asked, crumbs tumbling off her whiskers.

"The station wants to do a piece on you."

"A piece?" Meadow swallowed. "What does that mean?"

"It means their social media has gotten a lot of hashtags and hits because of you, and they want to milk it for everything its worth. Plus, their audience is afraid of real news, so your story is just about perfect."

"Thanks?" she said, making a face.

"It'd just be a puff piece with Roslyn, that tabby cat. Only last a few minutes."

Meadow felt her anxiety levels rising. "I, uh ... well, I dunno. I mean, I have work, and ... "

"They actually wanna do it on Sunday. For the 11-o'clock. It's the most-watched newscast of the week. They'll tape it in the afternoon and air it that night, and again in the morning."

Meadow bit her lip.

"I mean, you can say no. You don't have--"

"No, I'll do it," she mumbled. "I mean ... if it'll help you out."

Fib stepped toward her, putting his paws on her hips. He cooed, "You help me out just by being here."

Meadow looked up at him. "You just want sex before bed."

"It's the last night of your heat." Fib gave one of his camera-friendly smiles. "Can you blame me?"

She huffed, crossing her arms and leaving the room. But the turn she took was in the direction of his bedroom.

It was Sunday afternoon at the TV station.

"On this installment of 'What's Happening! With Roslyn', we're checking in with someone you just might recognize. That's right!" the bubbly tabby cat said, looking straight into the camera. "It's the 'Mouse Behind the Meme'."

Roslyn paused to allow for the insertion of a short highlight reel, which would show the initial footage of Meadow cleaning in the background with social media posts flashing on the screen, being read in amused voice-over. It hadn't been put together yet.

Then the camera pulled back to reveal Meadow sitting opposite the feline. The harvest mouse was in a simple summer dress, as usual, looking her cutest. Or trying to. The makeup people had powdered her ears and whiskers to reduce glare. The lights were so bright and hot. Keep cool. This isn't even live. If you royally screw up, they'll just start over. Her paws in her lap, Meadow pulled the end of her skirt closer to her golden-furred knees. She didn't want anyone to see them shaking.

"So, Meadow," Rosyln said, starting up again, "this whole thing just exploded, didn't it? We didn't even notice you were in the frame until after the fact! 'Quiet as a mouse,' am I right? How's life been for you this past week?"

"Well, uh ... uh, Roslyn," Meadow said, her throat suddenly dry. How does Fib do this? He makes it look so easy! "I've certainly been noticed a lot more."

Roslyn laughed. "I bet! What's the strangest comment you've received from all this?"

"I don't ... I don't think I can say that on TV?" She looked around nervously.

Roslyn smirked, leaning forward. "I assume it involved your handling of certain fruits?"

"They were developing spots ... "

"No one likes a mushy banana," Roslyn agreed.

Meadow wanted to shrink down into her seat. I hope the audience doesn't think I'm some kind of nymphomaniac.

Sitting back, the cat continued, "Now, we all know that mice have a reputation for being, as they say, 'squeaky clean,' so what prompted you to organize that refreshment cart? Was it simply instinct?"

Meadow's whiskers twitched. _Boy, she's playing up the stereotypes, isn't she? Quiet? Tidy? I mean, I am those things. But, still!_She looked at the camera and then back to Roslyn. "It wasn't really, um, instinct. It was just ... you know. I like things being organized? It's just nicer and easier when they are. People tend to let things go when they're busy, but someone has to do it. And I had the time, so--"

"Now, let's talk about why you were in-studio in the first place? Our viewers may not know this, but your 'beau' is our very own morning and noon-time weatherman, Fib."

"Yes, we're, uh, definitely ... an item."

"For how long, now?"

"A year."

"Quite serious!"

"I guess ... " Meadow didn't consciously think of it like that, but this was the longest relationship she'd been in ... maybe ever? It's getting close to it. I mean, you slept at his house last night and are at his work talking about him today? Yeah. You're in real deep.

"And you were here to watch him do his thing, is that right?"

Meadow nodded shyly, trying to stay focused. She wondered if she should be offended that Roslyn was steering the conversation to Fib. Does that mean I'm boring? Maybe. More likely means that 'sex sells.' "I like to, sometimes. It's neat to see what goes on in a newsroom. And he's taught me a lot about the weather."

"You could say it's pretty 'sunny' for you two, hmm?"

"Um. Well. You could ... "

"You don't seem like a city girl, Meadow."

"No, I'm--" She cleared her throat. "I'm from the country."

"They grow 'em cute out there, don't they?" the tabby purred.

Oh, my gosh. What kind of vibes am I giving off? Is everyone bisexual?!

"So, how did you and our weather guru meet?"

"I, uh ... I knew about him before, but we met at my work ... I'm a secretary? And, uh, things just sorta happened."

"Things?"

"Like ... stuff," Meadow said coyly, starting to clam up.

"Ha, ha. I'm sure the viewers can fill in the gaps," Roslyn said with a wink.

Meadow's ears blushed.

"Have you always been a loyal viewer of Channel 13, Meadow?" Roslyn asked, eyes widening as she waited for a confirmation.

Meadow looked at the camera and forced a big, bucktoothed smile. "Yes. Yes, I have."

"There you have it, friends!" Roslyn said brightly. "Longtime viewer finds fame and fortune because of Channel 13. Who knows? _You_might be next!" The cat looked into the camera and the red light went off.

_Fame and fortune? Definitely an overstatement. _

"And we're out!" the producer said. Immediately, people began chitter-chatting and crossing the set to move equipment.

Meadow exhaled, leaving her seat and looking for Fib.

The other mouse came in out of the shadows. "You did great!"

"I did awful," Meadow said, still flushed with anxiety. She reached out to clutch at her boyfriend's tail.

Fib rubbed her neck with a paw, trying to relax her muscles. "They'll edit in some visuals and music and stuff to make it slicker. It'll play awesome. You were very sweet and relatable. Very genuine."

"You think so?"

"Mm-hmm!"

Meadow looked around for Roslyn. She'd already left. "Bet she thinks I was a waste of her time."

"Don't felines think that way about everything?"

"True ... "

"Hey," Fib murmured.

"What?" Meadow looked up at him.

"I love you."

Meadow released his tail so her paws could seek his. She couldn't help but smile. "I love you, too."

"Now, how 'bout we go out to eat before we head home? There's that old-timey cafeteria south of the Circle. Macaroni. Broccoli, honey rolls? All your favorites."

Meadow beamed. "Okay. That place has the best desserts."

"I know. I think I'll have a slice of butterscotch pie," Fib said, not so innocently. "Banana cream for you?"

Meadow snorted as they made their way through the halls and toward the elevator. "Funny," she said. "I actually think I want cherry, though."

Fib licked at his buckteeth, the elevator opening for them. "So, Petra was right?"

"I'd quit while you're ahead," Meadow suggested as the doors closed.