Fleet Footwork (Nick)

Love must come "Light only burns and blinds."

---

I awaken with sand in my eyes and a large, snoring wolf curled around me. I take care of the former with a weary paw, but the latter requires a bit of prodding until it finally rolls over, letting out a soft growl, to my silent amusement. I quietly change out of my sleepwear, freshen up in the bathroom, and head to the kitchen.

The sun shines through the window, and I lose myself in the light; from here, I can see everything. Nate's apartment complex sits atop a semiurban plateau, acting as a terrace past which lie the high towers of Reverie's largest city, a destination for capitalists, officials, and tourists alike. The vast port that encircles Merida's industrial sector stretches to the far horizon, a view that both intimidates and inspires those who live in it.

I check my phone out of habit.

One unread message from Ophelia.

It's about time she's checked in on me. Despite my recent update of my disappointingly brief situation report a few days ago, OPIA's been silent as ever. The past two months with Nate haven't really gotten me anywhere with his personal history; he always gives me those vague non-answers whenever I prod him about his family. To be honest, I'm not sure this is going to work at all, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I've become rather attached to Nate; he's really sweet and affectionate even when you do the simplest things for him, like cooking breakfast.

Work can wait a little bit longer.

I pour a thin layer of oil onto a pan, heating it over the electric stove. As it simmers, I slide a few slices of bread into the toaster, an antique considering the multitudes of cooking arrays available on today's market. I take out some eggs from the fridge, breaking three of them into the pan. I listen in satisfaction as the crackling sound signals the reshaping and hardening of proteins. Fried eggs over toast is a classic start to the day that never gets old.

My ears perk up as Nate pads in, sniffing the air. He approaches me as I slide the eggs onto the fresh toast.

"Morning, hon," I greet.

"Hey babe." He gazes at his plate of food. "Heh. Reminds me of the morning after we first met."

I open a drawer to grab some forks. "How so?"

"Well... I woke up and you were gone." He stands behind me and massages my shoulders. "At first I was afraid you'd left," he says with a wry smile, "but you were just making breakfast."

I turn to face him and give him a poke. "Pff. I wouldn't just leave like that, even though you snore when you sleep." He pouts, so I pull him into a hug and kiss his nose. "Don't worry, I don't mind it."

I hand him a fork. "Here, I'll be right back."

"Sure. And thanks, Nick." Cute.

I duck around the corner, grinning. I pull out my phone and open Ophelia's message.

Hey Nick, Admos sent a care package to the bank. I'm at the Nexus, so I'll be in comms range (15 mins). Btw, the annual galactic summit's in a week. Warren will be there if that's at all relevant.

The Nexus is a massive space station orbiting the largest moon of a massive gas giant. I've never actually been there, but I've heard enough amazing things about the view to have put it on my mental bucket list. I reply with a thumbs-up and head back to the kitchen for my breakfast, but one of the plates is already empty.

"Wait, you're actually done? Already?" I say.

"Mmm." Nate's head turns to my plate.

"Oh, don't you dare."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I jog down to the bank, which is conveniently only a few kilometers from Nate's apartment. I walk inside, panting, and take a quick swig from the water fountain.

A well-dressed ferret steps forward. "Mister Gray, sir, with me, please." He leads me through a maze of meeting spaces to a secure back room, where he unlocks a small vault, indistinguishable from the countless others in the massive array. "I trust you can take it from here?"

"Alright. Hey, have I ever seen you at HQ before?"

"No, sir. I am simply an asset, and as such, I do not report directly to Admos. However, we should not be discussing such things. When you are finished, please ensure that the door is closed when you exit the room." He turns to leave the room and I hear the magnetic door click shut.

I glance inside the vault. As I had expected, it's rather empty; all my supplies are already fully stocked, a consequence of having done little to no interactive work since my arrival at Merida. I pocket the promised tracking device and inspect a check for a significant amount of money, noting the Elysium logo. These days, basically all transactions are handled electronically, but checks have never gone out of style, though their usage has changed significantly. I suppose this is a good thing, if you happen to be a money launderer, a thief, or a foreign spy. I reach in and grab a thin box made of a tough black plastic, secured with what appears to be a biometric lock.

Strange; Ophelia didn't mention any gadgets.What's the box for? I text.

I slide the box into my backpack and start walking to my own apartment complex. I pass by a beautiful botanical garden that I was thinking about visiting some time with Nate, but another text from Ophelia grabs my attention.

What box? Anyway, some rich guy's trying to sell a crate of stolen meds on the Nexus. Need you to tag them.

It's not too risky an assignment, though I'm still curious about the box. The elevator takes me to my floor and I unlock my room with the retinal scanner. My X-ray tool only reveals that the box contains an even smaller box, which is lead-lined. Guess I'm not supposed to know what's inside.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The address Ophelia gave me points to a high-end apartment in the sprawling wealthy district of Merida, aptly named Gaza. I've already redressed myself as business casual with an HV vest and a clipboard, but I tuck a knife and a shield generator into my belt, just in case things go sideways.

I stroll into the lobby and approach the wolf at the front desk, who's playing a game on his phone. Judging from his appearance, he's probably an intern-maybe 16 or so. I doubt he's expecting many visitors on a weekday.

"Hey," I say, tapping a claw on the desk.

He fumbles around, hastily posturing himself. "H-hi," he mumbles. "Uh, how can I help you?"

I smile reassuringly, and he somewhat relaxes. "I'm here to perform a fire safety inspection, so can I get in really quick?"

"Uh, sure, here." He fumbles around his desk and hands me an access card. "Technically, I think I'm supposed to escort you around... but it's probably fine. Try not to disturb anyone?" He squeaks.

"Got it, thanks." I grin and shake my head; the classic fox charm always works.

I ring the doorbell twice, but nobody answers. A swipe of my keycard overrides the lock and I step inside. The lights come on automatically, and I quickly blink my eyes to adjust. I take out my X-ray tool and scan the whole room. For a moment, I admire the apartment as though it were modern design pornography. When I ping something in the bedroom closet, I tap the door, which smoothly slides open. The crate is right in front of me at my feet, and I chuckle at the rather obvious choice of hiding spot. I had anticipated someone stealing from a powerful intelligence agency to at least put it in a safe, though perhaps he simply wasn't expecting visitors.

I unlock the crate with a grunt and peer inside. It's lined with neatly packed unmarked bottles of cylindrical blue tablets, and I question the importance of a single crate of medicine, though if I were to guess, I'd think that we were trying to hook a fish much bigger than whoever this rich idiot is. I attach the tracker in the soft velvet lining of the crate and arm it. I make my exit, leaving everything else as it was when I first came in.

_Tracker's live,_I text.

"Hey, fox!" Shit. I spin around in surprise, but a maned wolf pins me against the wall. "The fuck were you doing in my place?"

He's accompanied by a lion, who I assume is a bodyguard. They're both armed, so I'll have to talk my way out of this. "Whoa there, buddy," I say, putting my arms up. "Just replacing a smoke detector is all. You can ask the guy at the front desk." On the bright side, I think grimly, his breath has a nice minty quality to it.

The wolf glances suspiciously at my vest and the forged badge. A few tense moments pass, but he finally loosens his grip with a growl. "Fine. But don't_ever_ come in without my permission again, or else." The lion narrows his eyes at me almost quizzically as I awkwardly step into the stairwell. There seem to be more steps on the way down, but I eventually reach the lobby and return the keycard, thanking the kid at the desk as he wishes me a pleasant evening.

Reverie's sunset lasts barely a minute before it gets dark, and streetlamps flicker on in response, temporarily blinding me. My leftover adrenaline keeps me warm as I start heading back to the parking lot. A cursory backwards glance turns into a panicked double take as I realize that the lion bodyguard is following me. Unfortunately, I realize in frustration, my going upwind means that it won't be easy to lose him when he can just follow my scent.

Luckily, he doesn't seem to be overly concerned with stealth. His footsteps are loud, and it's apparent that he isn't in a big rush to catch up to me, though he easily matches my pace when I test him by speeding up slightly. I lead him around a corner, where I draw my knife and wait. I shiver and take a few deep breaths, gripping my shield generator in preparation for the worst. I peek around the corner, and to my dismay, he sniffs the air and pauses, forcing a stalemate.

"I know yer there. Just wanna talk, pal."

"It's a real shame I'm not in the mood for a chat with a lion armed with a gun," I call out.

I raise my eyebrows as he laughs wholeheartedly. "Aren't ya a bit young to be talking smack in a situation like this?"

"Aren't you a bit old to be... well, doing whatever you're doing?" I fire back, still a bit wary.

"Eh, I'm not that much older than ya. Blame the mane, making me look like an old cat. 'Ere, I'm kicking my gun over, so please don't murder me and whatnot." He does as he says, and I snatch the gun with a roll as it slides past the corner.

"Why'd you do that?" I ask, rather intrigued by the obvious tactical blunder.

"Well, ya don't seem like the type of person to murder an utterly defenseless individual, unlike yer crazy coworker, yeh."

"What coworker?"

"Ya haven't heard? Some of your OPIA pals are pretty fucked up, if ya ask me. Or anyone, really," he adds. "Oh ya, by the way, we know yer OPIA. Err, we as in Oversight. Cuz we're oversightin' ya. An' stuff. Ha."

I tilt my head at him, concerned but mildly amused. "What do you want?"

"That was kinda my question, actually. What are ya doing fuckin' around with Nathan Warren?"

Against my will, my fur puffs up and my inner ears redden, an instinctive reaction to which he guffaws. "That's none of your business," I growl. "Fuck off."

"'Ey pal, I'm just tryin' to make sure yer not gonna murder him and whatnot. Ya know, for the good of the Kite Union or whatever yer motto is."

"_Murder_him? No way, you have got to be kidding me." I scoff at the ridiculous notion, then frown as I realize its implications. "I would never hurt him," I say, my tone softening.

He smiles amicably. "Those're all the questions I've got for ya, for today at least. Cuz we're always oversightin' an' stuff, so ya better behave. Oh, an' can I get my gun back?" He reaches out a paw.

My expression betrays my suspicion, but I ultimately decide to trust him. He looks into my eyes as he reholsters his gun. "Ya don't seem that bad a guy, ya know. Oversight could use someone like ya, if yer interested."

"I'll think about it," I respond disingenuously, taking a step back.

He gives an understanding nod. "Well, if yer ever lookin' for work, just ask for Rafa."

"Pleasure to meet you, Rafa," I call, my back turned.

"Likewise, Nick."

As I walk back to the parking lot, I replay the conversation in my mind. I wonder why he's bodyguarding that maned wolf, but when I turn around with my question in hand, he's already gone, having been swallowed by the dark Reverie evening.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I climb into Nate's bed, exhausted. He hugs me from behind, letting me curl my back into his jaw in that way he knows I love so much. To an extent, cuddling with him is cathartic, like the feeling of coming home after a long day at work and_almost_getting murdered.

He nips at my ears. "You smell good."

I let out a quiet laugh. "You mean the shampoo smells good."

He inhales deeply in an exaggerated fashion. "Hmm. Guess so," he mumbles. "Um, I wanted to ask you something."

My ears perk up. "What's up?"

"Um, so there's this event on the Nexus like next week, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. To visit."

I facepalm internally, but I decide to play innocent. "You mean the summit? I mean, sure, but why?"

"Um, I was thinking about if... I mean, I was hoping to introduce you to... um, my dad."

I roll on top him and rest my muzzle on his chest.So this is how the end begins, I think.But the mission always comes first...

"Okay, hon."

"Really? You don't have work or something?" he says, incredulous at my apparently hasty acquiescence.

"Are you trying to uninvite me?" I accuse, giving him a sultry look.

"W-wha? No, Nick, I didn't mean--I..." he backpedals.

"Nate, relax, I was just kidding! Love ya."

He growls playfully. "I hate you. Dumb foxes."

I kiss his neck and hug him. "You're too innocent."

"You're just good at tricking me," he pouts, and the dramatic irony knifes into my heart. "G'night, Nick. And you don't have to squeeze so hard..."

I roll off him onto my back, the emotions fading away. "Sorry, hon." Is it worth it? It's just a matter of time before what we have is ruined. "Hey, I really love you."

He takes a deep breath and holds my paw, exhaling. "Love you too."

This is just a distraction. It won't last. How could it? He doesn't know who I am. Who I_really_ am.

But this is who I wish I could be. Who does Nate want me to be? Not a liar, that's for sure. I can't ever tell him. He would... hate me. He doesn't belong in the world I live in, and without his consent, I've already made him a part of it. Is it really worth it?

Now, don't get me wrong. People like me are quite good at living lies; pretending, deceiving--it's all just part of the job. But becoming one? Falling in love--that's where we draw the line.

I may have blurred mine.

I gaze at the sleeping wolf, and I am uncertain. Is any of it worth it?