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I'll say this for her: It was an interesting venue for a break-up.

Debbie never gave herself enough credit for her ingenuity, especially in the machinations of twisting the knife. She's a vixen, and the daughter of an alcoholic mother, so some would say that she was cursed twice. Once would be quite enough, thanks all the same. It would be sour grapes to wonder what I saw in her; it would also be untrue. There was much about Debbie to love, and not just in the physical sense (yeah, she was great at that, too, I assure you -- another cliché about being a vixen aside). She's a serial monogamist, which I knew when I started the relationship, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that we'd break up. Some free advice: Never have a relationship in which you imagine changing the other party, for the better or worse; it's an all-around bad idea, and it never works out right. You think I'd have learned that lesson, if only by watching others.

I looked at the menu card, reasonably certain of what was about to happen, even though Christopher and Bongo were there as well. The poor stoat and small-statured 'roo looked terrified and, given what was happening around them, I didn't blame them. I met them long before Debbie and I had attempted our relationship, and I did have (and would continue to have) great fondness for the couple. When I was most despondent in my loneliness, they invited me to their bed, to share their warmth. The term "straight but not narrow" applies to me in several ways, and the emotions that I experienced on that rare and wonderful night are still cherished to this day. I don't know how Debbie managed to con them into being there, but I would not let that harm my relationship with them. She would not have that victory; I wouldn't allow it.

The Mountain Rail Restaurant is a highly-specialized establishment, catering to a somewhat eccentric and well-heeled clientele. They have a good number of screens on the walls throughout, which can be set to any public channel or even rented by a customer to cycle through a selection of photographs (previewed by management to ensure that nothing lewd snuck in). It's often used for anniversaries and other such gatherings where memories were to be shared. Debbie had commandeered one above Chris and Bongo's heads, where she and I could see it, and the screen's computer system cycled regularly through a series of pictures taken during the time of our relationship, and even of times before, when we might have been at the same party or social gathering. I was surprised by the number of them; I didn't remember her being a shutterbug, much less that we had so many occasions when we weren't fighting or having sex. That, I think, says more about my mood than about our relationship.

Debbie was paying for the entire evening, which she could do out of the proverbial "family sofa change." Her lush of a mother was addicted to the booze, no question, but she was also canny. Now on her fourth husband, she had managed to bilk huge amounts from the first three, since her drinking had driven each of them into the arms of one or more mistresses. Mommy Dearest was always alert to the signs and managed to have discreet surveillance take as many incriminating photos as possible. She always cleaned herself up enough for the next prospective hubby to be wooed by her vulpine charms, what remained of her old family connections, and -- dare I say it? -- the idea that he would finally be the one who could help her mend her old ways. Debbie had so far avoided creating a "husband trap," lucky for every male (and two female) fur who became involved with her, including me. My only bit of personal foresight was to enter into the relationship pretty well knowing that we'd never make it to the altar; I did think, however, that we might last longer than her track record would have indicated. I know of no fool greater than a reformer, and I was already feeling foolish.

Even before the waiter came up to provide our appetizer (the menu was pre-arranged for each trip), two things happened. First, Debbie put an envelope onto the table space in front of me; second, the announcement was made that the Mountain Rail Restaurant was now ready to embark. Somehow managing to avoid that clunking cliché that all trains have, the entire car, its associated cars, and the colossal engine began its slow, easy passage through the valley. The huge, double-railed track wound unobtrusively through 20km of scenery so beautiful that no one should have paid the slightest attention to the screens. However, this being the time and alleged culture that we're in, no one could live without screens for a few minutes, much less a few hours. A distinct minority among the small crowd of diners paid attention to the real world for a brief time before going back to some incredibly important sports event or celebrity "news" item that I could easily have done without.

I ignored the envelope that Debbie had "slipped" in front of me. I was reasonably sure of what I'd find, although not of the specifics. I don't know if the greeting card companies had come up with a line of cards for breaking up with someone, but Debbie could probably have kept them in business. I tried to distract myself by coming up with some designs for such occasions. Things like, "Sorry, not sorry" and "Let's make like luggage and pack it in" came to mind. We could borrow from Cole Porter: "It was great fun, but it was just one of those things." For stock brokers: "Let's make a market correction." For lawyers: "Objection overruled -- I'm declaring a mistrial." For gay males: "Loved the buggering, but it's time to bugger off." For lesbians: "Let's be quick, and lickety-split up."

Given the thickness of the envelope, there might even have been a few pictures in there. I'd honored our agreement to be monogamous, so I didn't have any idea what sort of pictures they would be. Of me with Chris and Bongo? That was well before she and I began our dalliance (if so delicate a word could describe it), but it might explain their presence -- some strange form of blackmail against them as well? I didn't think it the slightest bit likely, but I'd no idea what peculiar logic might have prompted all this anyway. My only clue was unhelpful: Debbie looked frightened. It was her defense mechanism, ensuring that everyone around her knew that she was scared of something, and therefore any word or action taken by the object of her malice (in this case, me) would automatically be considered guilty of that fearful "something." She had learned from her dam how to manipulate; she had also learned how to do it stone cold sober, which kept her from making too many mistakes while doing it. Every emotion was calculated, and that's not sour grapes; it's just me finally waking up to what she was doing, and what she was truly capable of.

"Barrett, you okay?"

Bongo took a risk, paying more attention to me gaining my hindpaws than to Debbie's silent expression of baseless terror. Her expression changed before she could correct it, staring a quick dagger in the roo's direction. He didn't miss it, but he still kept most of his attention on me, as did Chris. My eyes and smile warmed toward them both.

"Just need to see a feller about a unicorn." The old euphemism (which probably insults unicorns everywhere) dropped amiably from my lips. All of us, including Debbie, knew that I wasn't likely to return to the table. I felt trapped, and I felt a fool, but I didn't have to suffer like a glad fool. At worst, the trip would only last a few hours, and there were many tricks one can use to avoid unpleasant situations, given the slightest ingenuity and the faintly sadistic desire to thwart the vixen of her intentionally sadistic vengeance. I decided to twist the knife just a bit. "I'm sure I'll be back when I've done the deal."

Neither Bongo nor Chris had the nerve to grin, but their eyes told me that the message was received. Being a well-raised jaguar, I pushed my chair back under the table before I left. I kept careful control of my ears and tail as I moved to the end of the dining car and pushed through doors into what I knew to be the cocktail car. There was a loo in the dining car, of course, but I wagered that the booze-bar area was likely to be far less crowded now that dinner would be served. Some might linger there, but most had come with guests, wives, or others who would eventually drag them to the meal.

My bet paid off; the car was deserted, save for the big tawny tiger wiping down the bar and the shapely she-puma wiping down a few empty tables lined along the side of the car with the best views on the entire moving restaurant. There were screens here, mostly for the hard-core sports crowd, but they were perched over the bar, where they wouldn't interfere with the proper view; even better, all were dark at the moment. I didn't actually need the euphemism at all, so I simply stood and soaked up the quiet of the car, my eyes grazing on the lingering evening light of late summer in (if the expression might be pardoned) this neck of the woods.

"Can I get you anything?"

The puma, clad in company livery that covered all and concealed nothing, stood nearby. She had surprised me; my ears are usually better than that, even with the gentle pawsteps of other felines. I smiled gently at her, kept my stance and my ears non-threatening. "Only a bounder would take such a comment inappropriately."

She raised an eyebrow, smiling easily, letting me know that she was indeed in on the joke. "My mate might take exception." She jutted a chin toward the bar. I turned to find the tiger with a similar grin on his muzzle, even as I put up my forepaws in a placating gesture.

"Not prowling, I promise!" I chuckled softly. "I've got enough trouble tonight."

"Need an ear?" The tiger leaned his thick forearms on the bar. "Goes with the job, and there's no waiting, at the moment."

"Nothing the least bit new." I padded toward the bar, the curvy puma flowing along with me. "My now-ex decided she wanted to break up with me by taking us here."

"Here?!" The tiger was suitably aghast. "Is she made of money?"

"Might as well be."

"What was the break-up about?"

"Not a clue. She put an envelope in front of me, back at the table, but I didn't open it." I managed a shrug more nonchalant than I really felt, but it worked for me. "Wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. She usually ends up driving her lovers away, one way and another. She demands monogamy while flirting with males and females alike; ultimately, the seed is planted, various excuses made, and most males give into temptation at some point." A raised a finger. "Before you ask: No, I didn't. That's why I've no idea why she wants to break up, much less with this much drama."

"You like monogamy?" the puma asked gently.

"It's more that I don't like shifting the rules around. I agreed to the original set, and I abided by them, which meant not doing any sharing."

"Did she? Do any sharing?"

"Don't know; don't care."

"Crap."

I looked at the tiger, mildly surprised. "I thought barkeeps only listened."

"I do call it like I see it, sometimes. That feline doesn't deserve you."

"She's a vixen."

"Even worse."

"Hey!" The shapely female of our group fetched a slap to the tiger's arm (not that he seemed to mind). "No species stereotyping! Some of my best lovers have been vixens, and you ought to know, Charlie; you've shared at least one of them with me."

As my brain tried to start up again, after absorbing the implications of this interchange, the tiger turned back to the puma, a frown crossing his brow. "Wait a minute, Kimi. Didn't you have an order for a magnum of champus for a vixen? Table seven?"

"Party of four."

"Four? She brought guests to a break-up?" Charlie expressed himself with a more explicit term than the first he'd used, and I couldn't find myself able to object to the word. "Wish I'd known; I'd have poured her a special cocktail from my own magnum!"

That did it. "She might have liked it better!" I laughed, more loudly than I'd intended and, after a moment, I realized that it was exactly the reaction they were looking for. It would seem that both of them were masters in customer satisfaction, when it came to hearing sad stories. I wiped my eyes clear of a couple of tears that were part sadness, part relief. "Think I needed that. Thanks."

"So," Kimi asked, "what's your name?"

"Barrett."

"And what's your game plan for this trip?"

"Skipping dinner," I said. "I think Chris and Bongo will understand my not going back, and I think Debbie won't try to follow me around. If she does, I'll hide out in the loo." Looking at Charlie with a grin, I added, "I take it you wouldn't allow females into the Males' Room?"

"We gotta have at least one place to hide."

Kimi fetched him another slap for that one.

"We can bring your dinner in here," he added, "if you don't mind eating with the hired help."

"True enough," Kimi seconded. "It's paid for, after all. I could even get your appetizer, if it's already been sent to the table."

"I doubt I'll have need of oysters tonight," I quipped happily enough. "And the 'hired help' is a lot better company than the vixen in question. Thank you; I accept."

Charlie waved in an expansive gesture, encompassing the whole car. "Pick a seat with a good view, and we'll have our dinners up soon. Soup course should be ready by now. Do you want a drink? After all, she's paid for it."

"That's one reason I'll decline the drink; for another, I don't want to lose my senses in anything beyond this beautiful view. Views," I said, winking at Kimi.

She laughed appreciatively. "We were right: She doesn't deserve you!"

I knew better than to flirt any further, not simply because of Charlie's chuckling presence, but also because I knew that I was emotionally off-balance, and that whole frying-pan-fire thing is just a bad idea. Padding toward the panoramic windows, I selected a table that would accommodate the three of us, then I settled in to let the world quite literally roll by.

Much of the non-sapient life in this area had grown used to the great, slow-moving beast in their midst. It wasn't uncommon to see deer and elk on this land, which was carefully tended preserve land (part of the agreement with the restaurant's company, to allow them to build in the first place). Sometimes, glimpses of hares and coyotes were possible. Happily, no feral foxes, other than the one in the dining car.

"What's so funny?"

Charlie had come up behind me as I was shaking my head and chuckling over my observation. "An unkind thought about feral foxes."

"I won't ask," he grinned, proffering a tall and shapely glass filled to a respectable height with a brightly-colored slushy mixture. "A frozen Tequila Sunrise, without the booze. The usual description of such drinks is 'virgin,' but I was afraid of the repercussions."

"None here! Thank you, I'll give it a try." He set the glass down before me and managed to ladle himself gracefully into the chair opposite me. I took a sip, raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Tasty. Looks good, too."

"OJ and grenadine, basically; with the frozen mix, I make a top layer of lemonade, to add to the flavor and the 'sunrise' as well. It gives you a pretty glass to pay attention to while everyone else nurses whatever poison he's into."

"Or is into him." I looked into the tiger's golden eyes, finding only a simple warmth and welcome that was very much needed at this point. "Tell me to bugger off if I'm being overly personal. I just wanted to say that you and Kimi seem to have a great relationship, and I was going to ask for the secret to making such a thing happen."

"I might think you trying to kiss me was 'overly personal,' at this point, but otherwise..." He laughed easily, but without malice, at my small squirm of discomfort. "We do have a great relationship. All relationships, from the most casual to the most intense, are like projects: You work at them in order to make them as good as you can. A good part of any project is good materials, and with relationships, that means both good people and good tools, like communication and understanding. It's not calculated, but it is effort. Anything worth having takes some effort to maintain."

"And when you find it's not worth the effort..." I nodded slowly, then smiled a little. "Sorry to turn it right back to my own situation, but it applies."

"Wasn't she worth the effort?"

"Not that, so much as..." I paused, looking up as Kimi rejoined us with glasses of chilled water for all and bowls of hot Manhattan-style clam chowder, the next course on the menu. I thanked her and, after she'd placed the soup before us, she sat next to her tiger as we all sampled the dish. The spices were perfectly balanced, and the tomato base just right. I didn't expect anything less, but it was still a delight to find it. I was about to make greater praise when I realized that I was being closely observed by the smiling pair across from me.

"So much as... what?" Kimi asked, her bright yellow eyes sparkling with mischief.

I snorted a laugh. I wasn't going to get away with anything, with these two. It occurred to me that was as it should be. After all, I'd asked, hadn't I?

"I guess I'm thinking it cruel of me to say that she wasn't worth the effort. That just feels so cold. Maybe..." I searched for some words. "It's more like she didn't seem responsive to the effort. I'd like to think that I put effort into our relationship..."

I let myself have another few spoons of chowder, as did they, but I felt their gaze, benevolent, encouraging, not letting me get away with waffle-words. It sounded weak, even to me, but I couldn't find the way to say... well, to talk her down, just because she...

"Barrett?" Kimi caught my eyes and held them. "You're a good guy. You're not going to change my mind with just words."

"What..." I stopped before do you mean came out, because she had nailed the point home with exactly the right amount of force. I snorted, embarrassed. "Yeah, I do that. I worry about what someone will think of me, especially when I'm talking about someone else. I don't want to speak ill of anyone, I suppose."

"Noble idea," Charlie offered. "Does that also mean not speaking ill of yourself?"

"Ouch." I'll admit to taking refuge in another spoonful of chowder before I answered. "Maybe what's not worth the effort is trying to change her mind. She's made this choice, as she's made it before, with others; she won't be brought back."

"Do you want her back?"

"No. She'd only do this again. She behaves like a child with abandonment issues. I've met her mother; she's an alcoholic, so perhaps Debbie really does have abandonment issues. Whatever the case, she's decided that it's over, and I've no particular recourse. The most effort that I could have put into this relationship, at this point, was to find a graceful exit." I smiled at the loving couple, saluting them with my virginal sunrise. "This exit was even better than I could have hoped for."

They smiled, thanking me, saluting me with their glasses of water, and we all settled back into enjoying the chowder again. A minute or so passed in companionable silence until all three of us jerked our heads quickly toward the sound of the sliding doors opening from the dining car, and then this one. Charlie rose, perhaps in case it was a diner wanting another cocktail, or perhaps with a thought to shield me. I saw who it was and also rose. "Chris?"

The stoat halted, perhaps at the imposing sight of Charlie at his full height, then looked back over at me. "She sent me to find out if you'd fallen in."

"How delicate of her," Kimi observed quietly.

"I'm tempted to have you tell her that I'd fallen off the train entirely, but she'd go even more ballistic." I considered for a moment before delaying things briefly, making the old formalities of introducing the occupants of the car to each other.

Eying the table, Chris smiled. "So that's where your soup got to. Debbie noticed."

"She's rich enough to afford this excursion, but she wants what she paid for." I nodded in the direction of Kimi and Charlie. "This fine couple offered me a quiet shelter and shoulders to cry on."

"Very little crying," the puma grinned. "So, Barrett, what do you want to do?"

"Enjoy dinner and our conversation." I considered a moment longer. Any response I could come up with was likely to be interpreted as passive-aggressive attack; in her eyes, I was already damned, and nothing that I could do or say would change that. I recalled a comment from a favorite television premiere:If we're to be damned, let's be damned for who we truly are. "Tell her that I'm grateful for her concern, and that I'm okay."

Chris blinked. "That's it?"

"If she tries to shoot the messenger," Charlie said, "get your friend and come join us for dinner. I'll make sure she can't get in."

"I've a feeling you could," the stoat smiled softly.

"Chris?" I padded to him and took him into a hug. "Don't let her hurt you or Bongo, especially not on my account. If anything happens, come here at the double."

Pecking my cheek with a quick kiss, he whispered, "It's a promise."

"Personally," Kimi grinned, "I'd love to have video of her response, but don't put yourself at greater risk."

That got a laugh from my friend, and he sketched a salute to us before turning back to his task. He hesitated briefly at the door, then gathered his resolve and went to deliver my response to the viperous vixen. I breathed in as relaxing a breath as I could manage, and turned back to my dinner companions.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at me as we regained our seats. "Bongo?"

"Perfectly good name for a 'roo, wouldn't you say?"

Both chuckled, and Kimi observed, "He must care for you a lot, if that bit of a snog means anything."

"Means a lot, actually," I said, pausing to gather my thoughts with more chowder. We'd be ready for the main course soon, and I had the feeling that the conversation would be even more intense by then. I took in another breath and told them, circumspectly, about my many-splendored night with my wonderful male friends. I'd already gathered from their earlier conversation that neither Kimi nor Charlie would be the least bit shocked. They weren't.

"Sounds to me like a relationship worth the effort," the puma purred softly.

I nodded. "They're wonderful, in so many ways. Best friends, to each other and to me."

"Would they invite you to be a part of their relationship, as another lover?"

I looked to Charlie with only mild surprise, most of it toward myself. "I suppose I hadn't given it that much thought. I call myself 'straight, but not narrow,' which is how I came to appreciate the night that they shared with me, but I probably have a greater fondness for females. How would such a three-way relationship work, anyway?"

"Quite well, with the right furs." Charlie set his spoon into his empty bowl and leaned his elbows on the table to regard me with his chin on his folded forepaws. "I love Kimi very much, and I love others as well. Falling in love is effortless; maintaining it requires effort, but it's effort worth taking."

"To us, at least," the puma continued, "that's what the term 'making love' means. We're making, creating, our love with all those we love." She rubbed her cheek on the tiger's shoulder, producing another brief purr. "I love Charlie very much, and I love others, and each of us knows as much love as we can. And no, Barrett, not all of it is sexual."

"Fun when it is, though."

We all had a healthy chuckle over that one. I considered another moment, looking at how I felt about the topic. "I guess I still don't know how that works. Maybe I'm thinking like an old-fashioned sort of cat."

"Maybe that's what's best for you," the tiger demurred gracefully. "It's not a judgment, Barrett. It's your choice, always. For me, for Kimi, we love who we love, and we show it however we can." He brushed an affectionate paw on the puma's headfur. "This rather wonderful female and I met through a mutual friend, and we found that we can enjoy each other's company in any number of ways."

I looked to Kimi. "Didn't I hear you call him your mate, when we first spoke?"

"One of several," she said with a knowing smile. "We don't use the word to mean that we somehow own each other, although it can come in handy when someone I don't care for is trying to hit on me. And I don't mean you, Barrett."

"The tigerly art of intimidation," grinned the very-Alpha male. To me, it seemed more endearing than frightening, but it was because I knew that he had no desire to frighten me. I had the feeling, in fact, that he -- with or without the lovely puma -- would gladly invite me to a quieter place to show me more about what affections he had been speaking of, and that the intimacy might be not at all sexual. It dawned on me that either possibility would be welcome, and that surprised me as well. A great deal more than a good meal was being served.

A bit of commotion got us all to our hindpaws quickly. Chris burst in, followed by Bongo, who cried out, "Sanctuary!"

Charlie moved with speed and near-balletic grace to the doors just as they closed, and he locked the bar-side door swiftly. "I'm sorry, madam," he said to someone on the other side of the glass. "The bar car is closed for the evening. You may order drinks to be brought to your table; I'll make sure, personally, that you get what you ask for." He then lowered the shade, preventing any further peering in from what I knew had to be furiously-burning vixen eyes. Turning toward us, the great tiger brushed his paws together in a_that settles that_ gesture, and he came back to the table.

I took Bongo into a tight hug, as it was easy to see that he was shaking like a leaf. After a few moments, I felt it safe to release one arm and encompass Chris as well. The three of us stood there a short while, me doing my best to will some sense of calm into them.

"Do we want to know what happened?" Charlie asked in an incredibly soft basso voice.

"I think we could guess," I said to all. "No need to reheat that hash."

I pulled back from them gently, pausing to give a tender, chaste kiss to each, full on the lips and lingering for a few seconds. They looked at me, surprise uppermost in their wide-open eyes and in the set of their ears. Smiling at them with deep affection, I told them, "I've been learning a lot about relationships in the past twenty minutes or so. My relationship with you is well worth putting effort into. Thank you, guys. I love you both, just in case I've not said it recently."

The couple looked first to each other, then to the other couple in the room, still not quite trusting themselves to speak. Showing excellent judgment, Charlie padded slowly over to us, looking at my friends with all benevolence and a touch of humor. "Permission to hug?"

"I get to go first," I said. Releasing my old friends, I turned to the tiger and was happily engulfed in his huge, warm arms for a long and happy time. Seeing that the giant was indeed gentle, Bongo and Chris each got their hugs, while I let Kimi know that she wasn't to be left out of the celebrations. I provided an embrace to her that was so warm and lingering, it led me to wonder quite pleasantly about what my immediate future might look like. The puma was also greeted with affection by the 'roo and stoat, and I thought back on her words from earlier:Falling in love is effortless; maintaining it requires effort, but it's effort worth taking.

"Now that we're all friends," Kimi offered to the newcomers, "I trust you'll join us for the main course, and naturally coffee and dessert after?"

Only a bounder would take such a comment inappropriately.