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It was Friday, just before noon.

"You're all set," Meadow said, handing the patient an appointment card and a complimentary toothbrush. The harvest mouse flashed a golden, bucktoothed smile. "We'll see you in six months!"

The patient, an older opossum, adjusted his glasses and thanked her, the door chiming as he left the dental office.

When he was gone, Meadow looked over her shoulder at Petra and said with wide, blue eyes, "Opossums have_fifty_ teeth!"

"They're worse than sharks," the brown rat declared dryly.

"No wonder his cleaning took so long ... "

"He should floss more," Petra said as she returned to her desk. She'd been pre-sorting files and folders for next week's appointments. Some 'slack off' time had been earned. It was almost lunchtime, anyway. Taking a seat and folding her furless paws behind her head, the rat picked up their earlier conversation. "You said you were goin' out tonight? Where to?"

"Mm? Oh!" Meadow squeaked, swiveling back and forth on her roller-chair. She put her paws primly on her lap, her flowery, spring skirt ending just above her slender, golden-furred knees. "I'm Fib's plus-one to the regional Emmy ceremony." Fib, her fiancée, was a morning meteorologist on local TV news. "It's downtown in a fancy ballroom and everything! We're gonna spend the night in the hotel afterwards."

"Sleeping, I'm sure."

"I, uh ... dunno what we're gonna do yet," was Meadow's shy, evasive reply.

"These awards gonna be on TV?"

"Well. No," Meadow confessed. "But they'll be streaming online."

"Eh." Petra gave a 'no thanks' wave with her paw. "That sounds like work."

"Fib's nominated in three categories," Meadow declared proudly.

"Like what? Best Cutie Patootie?"

"No." Meadow rolled her eyes. "But he'd win that if it were an award!"

"You gotta dress up for this shindig?"

"Mmhmm."

"I've never worn a dress in my life," Petra said.

"Ever? Not even once?"

"You ever seen me in one?"

Now that she thought about it, the mouse said, "No, but ... what are you going to wear to my wedding, then?" After three years of dating, Meadow and Fib were making their mate-ship legal. Fib, six years younger, had been ready to do it sooner, but Meadow had needed more time.

"Pants," the rat decided.

"Pants?"

"Yeah, with a big, jangly belt."

"Maids of honor don't wear pants."

"They go naked? If you insist!"

"Petra ... "

"They'll be fancy pants. Dress slacks. Khakis. Nothing crazy."

Meadow's whiskers twitched. "I'd have to see you in them before I say okay."

"I thought it wasn't gonna be a big deal? Small, private ceremony."

"It will be," the mouse insisted.

The guest list currently sat around thirty-something, most of it on Fib's side. His immediate family from Iowa, mainly. Meadow's own parents were deceased, and she wasn't close to her relatives. She saw her cousins now and then. Had been a bridesmaid at a cousin's wedding years ago, before she met Fib.

It wasn't going to be until next winter, so they still had plenty of time to iron out the details.

"But that doesn't mean I want 'anything goes.' I want some formality. A few flowers, a little pomp and circumstance. "

"As long as the food's good." The rat paused, her thick, ropy tail curling as she confirmed, "There'll be food, right?"

"Of course."

"I'm in!" Petra gave the mouse a thumbs up.

"Great. Now, I'll be able to sleep at night," Meadow teased.

"Not tonight, though." The rat made porn music sounds.

Meadow shook her head, clenching her jaw to keep from smiling. She was only half-successful. Turning the tables on the rat, she asked, "What are you doing tonight?"

"Playin' games with June, prob'ly," the rat said, of one of her poly partners, Juniper. Meadow had seen the weasel and rat play games together, and they got really competitive.

"Is Eagan gonna referee?" Meadow asked. The chipmunk was another one of the rat's partners. There was also two rabbits in their circle. Meadow hadn't met them.

"Nah, he's got some freelance web design work thing going on. Holed up in his room on his computer. What a nerd."

"Bet he makes good money."

"More than me," the rat confessed. "Less than Fibster, I'm sure. Big TV star that he is." The rat used this to shift the conversation back to Meadow, saying, "Find a new house yet?"

"We looked at a place last weekend," Meadow replied. Fib had let his lease in the suburbs expire and was now living at Meadow's house in the countryside while they house-hunted. "It's in a private, wooded area just north of city limits. Two stories, cozy ... but not too small. It'd be twenty minutes from the news station and about the same for me to get here. Closer commute for both of us. I think we're going to put in an offer!"

"It was a yes or no question, girly. Didn't need an oral history," Petra complained.

"Pardon me for being excited."

"Just don't go full cottagecore on me. I'm allergic to sugary sweetness."

The two rodents fell quiet when one of the dental hygienists poked their head in from the examination area. "You girls better start on your lunch breaks," the snow leopard reminded, speaking with a Russian accent.

"We will!" Meadow answered with obedient cheer.

When the hygienist retreated, Petra said, "You're such a goody-good."

"Then I guess you're going to let me take my break first?"

"Hell, no," the rat said, leaving her seat. "You went first last time. See ya in thirty," the rat said, clocking out and waving before heading for the break room with her lunch bag in tow.

It was 12:35, and the noon-time newscast had just ended.

Baxter bounded after the orange-tinted rabbit. Desert cottontail, to be precise. "Hey, boss."

Kendra, white bobtail flicking, stopped and turned. Her tall, brown-tipped ears twiddled.

"Looking forward to tonight?" the otter asked.

"The ceremony? Why? Do I seem nervous?" Her bunny nose twitched. "Cause I'm not."

"Right. I wasn't gonna say that," the river otter replied, squinting and tilting his head, egging her on by adding, "but now that you mention it ... "

"I just don't like to lose."

"Spoken like a true competitor," the otter said approvingly. Like him, the rabbit was an ex-athlete. She'd played volleyball in college. Water polo for him. "If you'd said you didn't care about the results, I'd know you were lying."

"I know I've only been here for half-a-year, so ... I mean, most of the nominated content was from before my tenure? I shouldn't take it personally if we do lose. Now, if we lose a bunch next year ... " The rabbit paused, wondering, "How do we normally do at these awards shows?"

"Well." Baxter straightened his posture. "We get lots of nominations!"

"But?"

"You just have to remember that industry awards are never solely about the job you're doing. Popularity always edges quality. And who you know and who likes you and how much they're willing to heighten your platform in exchange for being associated with you. Y'know. All that stuff."

"It's high school, then," Kendra joked.

"I was always a 'cool kid'," Baxter insisted.

"Bet you wore a fancy letter jacket."

"It gets pretty cold in Idaho in the winter," he defended lightly.

The cottontail giggled, tall, dusty ears twiddling. "Do you have a victory speech written in case you win tonight?"

"I think I'll wing it."

"Brave of you. How will you celebrate? Do a cannonball into the hotel pool?"

"Otters do like to get wet." He locked eyes with her.

She blushed slightly and asked, "Who's your 'and 1' gonna be?" Each nominee was allowed to bring one guest. Those with partners or mates were bringing them.

"Going solo." He shrugged. "What about you?"

"Same. Everybody I know who'd be interested is already going, so ... " She avoided eye contact with him as she said this, and then tried to amend it that by saying, "I practically live at the station." She was here over forty hours a week. At least she had the weekends off. "Don't have many friends outside co-workers. Boring life of a professional."

"We'll be at the same table, so we can commiserate. I'm up for two awards." Best Morning Sportcaster and Best Live Interview for his sit-down with the Indy 500 winner after last year's race. "Which I'm sure to lose."

"You don't know that."

"I've never won before," he reiterated.

"Maybe you'll get lucky tonight."

The otter smiled. "Maybe"

Kendra nodded, clearing her throat. "Well! I'm gonna go ... home, I mean. I don't actually live here."

Baxter chuckled.

"See ya later. Good job today."

"Thanks. See ya," the otter echoed lightly, watching her go. There was something about bobtails. They were so ... teasy.

He began to think of things that raised tails led to--

When Fib suddenly popped his big-eared, golden head into view. "What's going on?" the mouse asked, looking to the clear, double doors and then back to the otter.

"What the--" The otter jumped. "Where'd you come from?" Quiet as a mouse had some truth to it. They'd make good spies. Nobody would ever suspect.

"You're in the middle of the hallway in front of the main exit," Fib said obviously. "I'm on my way out. Also, you're avoiding my question."

"Nothing's going on."

The harvest mouse wasn't buying it. He'd seen the way the otter was eying the boss. "If you go after her and it ends badly, you'll have to 'resign' for 'personal reasons'. Then the station won't have to give the press an excuse for why you were canned."

Baxter crossed his arms. "I thought mice were optimistic?"

"Just don't want you to get replaced," Fib said. "I know I can dunk all over you--"

"Hah!"

"And your replacement would probably be more talented."

"Sure ... " The otter took a deep breath and said, "The thing about sports is that when you're the underdog, the bigger the risk? The bigger the reward. You miss every shot you don't take."

"Nice clichés. Don't underdogs lose most of the time?"

Ignoring that, Baxter insisted, "Law of averages. Odds will eventually go your way."

"Very sportsball of you," Fib said. "Anyway, be careful." The harvest mouse scurried out the front door of the station, heading to his car.

He thinks I can't be in a long-term relationship. I'm not mature enough? Is that it?

Realizing he'd been standing in front of the exit for quite some time, the otter looked around and went back into the newsroom. His laptop was still in his desk. _ _

Granted, the otter had never been in one before. A lasting romance. Not really. Just a bunch of short-term dalliances. A few months at most. A lot of one-night stands. But he'd had fun and his partners had, too. Everything amicable. It was all good.

In the past year, though, he'd fallen for both Dotty and Raven. Both had failed to reciprocate, leaving him heartbroken. Emotionally, he was pining for something more. Something deeper.

Enter Kendra.

Maybe he could attempt it with her?

At the very least, I'd like to get my balls into that endzone.

"Ha, ha! What a crowd. Hey, folks, we all love the weather, don't we?" Morty the moose asked, standing on stage in front of a microphone, his antlers casting patterned shadows around the glitzy ground-floor ballroom.

There were some random hoots and hollers from the tables. Round in shape, they were covered with fine tablecloths, flowers and candles in the middle, and waiters were constantly bringing food and drink to each one.

Meadow had asked Fib who was paying for all this. Fib confessed he didn't actually know. 'Probably our union?' he'd guessed.

"Sun, rain, wind," the moose continued, droning on and on. "Can't live with it, can't live without it. But, seriously ... our local meteorologists provide such a service. Let's hear it for them!"

Meadow started clapping.

No one else did.

The harvest mouse blushed and stopped.

"We have several weather awards to give out, so let 'em rain! First up, the nominees for Best Morning Local Weather Public Service Announcement, Short Form, are ... " A drum roll sound was piped in over the loudspeakers. "Cirrus 'Cloudy' McGhee, Channel 6, Don't Get Hit By Lightning!" After the announcement of each nominee, a clip played on a big projector screen.

"Channel 6's _ratings_have been hit by lightning," JR the coyote muttered with a snerk, tilting his head back and finishing his glass of champagne. The morning news co-anchor reached for a bottle to pour himself some more, but his boyfriend's prim paw found his wrist.

"Last time you got drunk, you thought you were a wolf and tried to howl," the effeminate mink reminded.

"Liar!" A huff. "I've never done anything but yip."

"Oh? Maybe I should see if I still have that video on my--"

"Fine," JR groused, immediately backing down. "I'll suffer through the rest of this ceremony sober."

Belle, the deer, was busy eating a tossed salad. She picked out the croutons. "I wish I knew they were ranch-flavored." She made a face. "Bleh!"

"Why's Roslyn sitting at the table with the evening news crew? She's on our broadcast," Opal the Jersey cow complained. The other morning anchor, the tan bovine had a gregarious onscreen presence but was rather insecure off-camera. She stared at Roslyn, but the tabby cat paid her no heed in return. She was too busy haughtily chuckling at something.

"Uh, cause she's sleeping with the station manager," JR said matter-of-factly. "And he's a canine! A cat and dog?"

"We know," Sakona the skunk insisted. It wasn't exactly a state secret.

JR insisted, "She's got more influence than any of us. The power behind the throne. Could probably get any of us fired if she wanted."

"I'm nice to her," Opal assured. "To her face."

Kendra sighed. As the producer of the morning news, she'd hoped her staff would've had more team spirit! Instead, they were complaining about each other. Opal and JR in particular seemed to get easily jealous, as if they resented being in the station's 'news basement.'

Most everyone on the morning news dreamed of being promoted to the primetime team. Not only was the viewership higher and the money better, but you didn't have to go to bed at 9 PM and wake up at 4 AM every weekday. You could actually go out and do things, have a social life.

But, still.

It wasn't _that_bad. They all go to work on television!

The MC continued to read the list of nominees. "Boomer Badger, Channel 4, Twister of Fate: Stay Safe During Tornadoes, Y'all." A clip played of the submitted segment.

"Doesn't look like he's staying safe to me," JR's boyfriend observed, as the footage zoomed in on an actual funnel cloud.

"His accent's an act," Opal accused.

"What do you mean?" Belle asked.

The cow flapped her ears in annoyance. "I used to date him, and he didn't talk anything like he does on TV. Going for the rural audience. He can have 'em. Rubes!" she shouted.

Sakona shushed the Jersey.

"And Fib the Morning Mouse, Channel 13, Throw Out the Snow, Not Your Back: A Prey Guide to Shoveling."

"Wow. These are some _serious_hard-hitters," Baxter said with a laugh. "I think I'd vote for Cirrus, though. She looks like she has a 'tail' to tell."

Fib ignored the otter. The mouse had plenty of practice at it.

"And the Emmy goes to ... Fib the Morning Mouse, Channel 13!"

Fanfare played and applause filled the room. The morning news table, stunned they'd actually won something, had a delayed reaction before squealing and yelping. Meadow hugged and kissed Fib and Kendra pumped her fist.

"Yes!" the rabbit exclaimed. "That was one of mine!" It had aired back in February, right before the nomination cut-off.

"Oh, gosh! I can't believe it," Fib proclaimed, twitching as he scurried onto the stage. Once there, he clutched the nude, golden statuette. "Never thought I'd win one of these." He struck a theatrical pose with the golden award. "Who's who?" The audience laughed. "Really, I have to thank my station. Channel 13. You rock! Kendra, my newish producer, who greenlit the PSA."

Fib cleared his throat and said, "Like Morty suggested, being a meteorologist is a public service itself, y'know? So this is fitting. A lot of people don't know how to properly shovel snow! And for prey, without the muscle mass, it can lead to injuries and even heart attacks. If I saved one life through this ... well, it was worth it."

Baxter, taking a swig of champagne, rolled his eyes.

"Oh! I gotta thank my fiancée, Meadow. I love you so much, Butterscotch!"

Meadow beamed and blushed, paws on her golden cheeks.

The crowd 'aww-ed.'

Music started to play to usher Fib off.

He raised his voice to add, "And, finally, I dedicate this to the North American jet stream." Pointing his tail to the sky, Fib said, "You know what you did!"

More laughter, more applause.

Baxter frowned.

Now the station's promos would tout 'Emmy-winning forecaster' Fib the Morning Mouse. And he'd get a bonus. Wasn't that in everyone's contracts? Awards meant bonuses? Probably. What would the promos say about him? Oh, and here's Baxter with sports results you already found out about on your phones, if you even still care about sports!

Kendra, seeing the otter's face, said, "He'd be happy for you."

The otter doubted that but forced a smile and nodded, not wanting to argue with his boss, especially when he was trying to get in her pants.

Dotty had been a co-worker but on an equal level. They'd gabbed and gossiped about everyone else in the office. Like Roslyn, for instance. And definitely Fib. He wouldn't be able to do that with Kendra.

She has to keep the peace. Can't play favorites. I get it ...

Fib, after posing for official photographs, returned from the stage to the table and graciously passed around the Emmy so everyone could hold it and take selfies with it. Kendra took part, striking as glamorous a pose as she could.

"You'll get one yourself soon enough, Kay," Opal the cow said, sucking up a bit.

The rabbit didn't know how she felt about being called 'Kay,' but she let it slide. "Next year, maybe. Best Morning Newscast!" Kendra declared, lifting the trophy while the table clapped.

Eventually, Fib's trophy made its way back to Fib himself. He gave it to Meadow for safekeeping. The female harvest mouse proudly clutched it to her dress.

As the awards continued, Opal and JR lost best morning duo ...

"We were robbed. We have _great_chemistry. Don't we, JR?"

"Yeah. Super," the coyote deadpanned.

"We could do a road show, him and I." The cow snapped her fingers. "We're like that. Simpatico."

JR's boyfriend giggled.

Belle lost for best 'light news story' to someone from Channel 8 about what to do with old Christmas trees.

The doe squinted, her white tail flagging with consternation.

Sakona the skunk won the morning crew's second award, for last summer's protest coverage on her 'Sakona on the Scene' segment.

"Gotta thank the city. Naptown! I grew up here, and bringing you guys the news is an honor. Kendra, our producer. You weren't here when I did this story, but I'm excited to see what we'll cover together in the future. Thanks, again. Peace!" the skunk said, nodding and leaving the stage. She wasn't one to milk a moment.

As Sakona returned to her seat, she gave Baxter a discreet 'don't mess with my girl' look.

Baxter spread his webbed paws and gave a wide-eyed 'what'd I do?' face.

The otter had surmised that Kendra and Sakona were best friends. They probably told each other everything. So, Kendra must've confessed an interest in him and Sakona, knowing his playboy reputation, had tried to talk her out of it. She must've failed. Why else would she be so protective?

_That means Kendra wants me. _

Not that I doubted it!

As the ceremony continued, Channel 13's primetime news crew won a handful of trophies. Twice as many as the morning division, in fact.

"They think they're above us," Belle remarked.

"Cause they are," JR said.

Sakona, carefully polishing fingerprints off her Emmy, said, "Let it go."

"Sakona's right. We're all part of the same station. One team, one family," Kendra said diplomatically. "No reason to be jealous."

"Who wants cake?" Opal asked, signaling for a waiter.

During a 'commercial interlude,' Kendra stretched in her chair, her big, orange foot-paws brushing against the otter's webbed feet.

Baxter blinked, sitting up straighter, looking her way.

Was ... that an accident?

She gave him a warm, little smile, which was also his answer.

Baxter flashed her a much wider grin.

An hour later, the ceremony was over and the guests had left the ballroom. Some had rented hotel rooms for the night so they could drink through the ceremony without worry or just enjoy a night away from home. Others waited for rides in the lobby or, if sober, drove themselves.

Baxter left the building on foot, deciding to walk. He lived downtown, a dozen blocks away. In a one-bedroom apartment in a recently constructed high rise.

He took the 'Canal Walk,' a picturesque route along the water. Traffic was pretty sparse this time of night.

He steered the tip of his rudder-tail to the water and dipped it in, making the calm surface ripple outward.

"Baxter!" A voice called.

The otter turned, his tail whipping around with gravity. "Kendra? I thought you lived in mid-town?"

"I do." The rabbit caught up to him, panting. A swallow and a nod. "Yeah. I just ... needed some fresh air. But, mainly, I drove down here with Sakona? And, uh ... " The cottontail rubbed at her neck. "She's sorta still at the hotel. With an 'admirer' from Channel 4." She smiled. "I told her I'd find another way home ... "

"Oh. Heh ... gotcha." The otter took a deep, audible breath. "Unfortunately, I don't own a vehicle or I'd drive you."

"That's okay. I can catch a ride-share, probably?" The rabbit started to search on her phone.

"Well ... walk to my building, at least? Easier pickup spot than down here." Safer, too. He really didn't want Kendra waiting around down here by herself in the dark.

Kendra put her phone back in her pocket. "If I'm not intruding ... "

"You're not!" Baxter quickly said, trying to temper his excitement by adding, "It's no big deal."

She smiled. "Okay."

"Good!" Baxter said, gesturing with a paw. "Got a few more blocks by the canal, then we'll cut through the park."

"Was that Sakona?"

"Where?" Fib asked, looking around.

Meadow pointed down the hall. "I saw a skunk follow a muskrat into one of those rooms!" She was positive she'd seen that muskrat at the ceremony, too. At a rival news station's table. Channel 8? Maybe Channel 4?

"Sure it was Sakona? I thought she was leaving with Kendra," Fib said as they stopped in front of their own room. They had it booked just for tonight. He took the key card out of his wallet and inserted it into the door handle. A click, a green light, and he opened the door.

"She was carrying an Emmy."

"So are you. You look like a movie star," Fib said sweetly, pulling her inside and kicking the door shut. He brought the other mouse into his arms.

"If I were a movie star, I'd be holding an Oscar," Meadow corrected with a blush.

"Details, details," Fib cooed, kissing her on the lips.

Meadow sighed, their whiskers brushing, tangling together. Both her arms went around his neck. She passed the trophy from her paws to her prehensile tail, which then set it down on the floor against the wall, where it wouldn't get knocked over.

"Fancy some room service?" Fib asked, nose to nose.

"But we just had a big meal in the ballroom ... "

"I saved room for dessert," he promised, his tail snaking beneath her skirt and between her thighs.

Meadow, getting the implication, used her tail to flip the door switch so that the outside read 'do not disturb.'

"Don't know where that rain came from!"

"Fib said there'd be an overnight chance," Baxter remembered as they entered his apartment building lobby. "But I don't always pay attention when he's on." It had started when they'd been a block away, so they hadn't gotten soaked. Just a bit damp. But an active front was clearly passing through. The wind had picked up considerably.

Kendra hugged herself, teeth chattering.

"Are you cold?" Baxter asked worriedly. He resisted the urge to hug her, hold her close.

"I'm from New Mexico," was her answer. Frustrated, she said, "It's May! When does it get warm around here? It's been cold since last October ... ridiculous ... "

"Any day now," Baxter promised, "and you'll be able to complain about the humidity. I know I do." When you had a pelt as dense as his? Muggy summer weather could wilt you real fast.

Kendra closed her eyes, still shivering.

"You know, I'm just six stories up," Baxter mentioned. "Maybe ... I can make you some hot tea? Get you warm before you have to venture back out?"

"Do you have vanilla rooibos?"

"I got peppermint. I'm not really a connoisseur. Just keep some for rainy days."

"Mm. Sure. Yeah, that'd be nice."

Kendra followed the otter to the elevator, eyes on his rudder tail. It moved like a metronome with his steps. "Which direction do your windows face?"

"South," he said as they got in. He pressed the button for the 6th floor.

"Oh! Must have a great view of the skyline from there."

Ding!

The doors closed and they began to move.

"I do. I noticed it a lot when I first moved in, but you get so used to it after a while ... " Baxter fidgeted. Come on, come on! It was crawling ...

Floor one.

Ding!

Floor two.

Kendra nibbled on her lip.

Baxter, turning his head, saw the gesture. There was something about it. Something about those buckteeth. Something about the way she was slanting those hips. He snapped. Losing all self-control, he hit the 'stop' button. The elevator paused between the third and fourth floors. He yanked his belt loose, staring down the rabbit in a hungry, animalistic haze.

Kendra's breasts heaved. She backed up, mewing as she bumped into the wall.

The otter's pants slid down his hips, past his knees. Collecting around his ankles. His boxer-briefs were snug to his figure, revealing a bulging outline. The head of his cock was stretching the cotton so tightly that the contours of his glans were clearly apparent.

This wasn't lost on Kendra, who stared, unblinking.

"You want it?" he asked huskily, a feral look in his eyes.

The rabbit answered by getting her own pants off, kicking them aside.

"Thought so," the otter purred, removing his underwear, letting her see him in all his erect, throbbing glory.

Kendra was no longer cold. Far from it. But, oh, she was still shivering! Hotly, with anticipation and arousal, working her panties off and kicking them aside. She wasn't even consciously doing it. Things just ... started to happen. Instant, instinctual reactions, like a fever dream.

Baxter leaned in, grabbing for one of her legs. He pulled at it, lifting and hooking it around his hip. And then he got the other one off the ground, leaning his weight to hers, pinning her to the wall. They both had their shirts on. The rabbit's bra was still in place.

Baxter lamented that he couldn't grope and suck on her tits, but he forgot about that as he rubbed his cock against the outside of her pussy.

Kendra's heart was pounding. What if someone else called for the elevator? They'd be caught for sure!

Sensing her concern, Baxter aimed is tip for her tunnel and Baxter whispered, "We'll be fine. Relax. Let me take care of you. Okay?"

Kendra nodded, unable to stop panting.

"Now, hold on tight ... "

On the fourth story of the hotel, in a dark room on a big, plush bed, squeaks rang out.

Meadow's dress was draped over a nearby chair, her undergarments on the carpet.

She sighed, creamy-white breasts heaving as she slowly descended from the highest of highs. "Oh ... "

Fib raised his head, whiskers glistening. He licked is lips before nuzzling at Meadow's soft, furry thighs. "Mm." He then moved up to kiss her belly, murmuring, "Mmm, I hope that felt as good as it tasted."

"Y-yeah ... " Meadow reached for him with both arms, gently rubbing his pink, dishy lobes.

"Mmm ... Butterscotch," he cooed.

She kept stimulating his ears, saying, "I'm so proud of you."

"For getting you off with my muzzle?" he teased.

"Heh! No. For ... for the award." Her tail found his, coiling with it. "Our first date was to an awards show, remember?" Almost three and a half years ago. Had it really been that long?

"Oh, yeah! Gosh. Went home empty-handed, if I recall. Well ... except for you." His paws groped her pert, golden rump. "I ate your pussy that night, too."

"I remember," she whispered shyly.

"Then you asked me to fuck you."

"You, uh ... you made me say it that way." She normally wasn't one to curse.

"Made you, hmm? Did you want it?"

"Yeah ... "

"Do you want it now?"

"More than ever."

"Then say it again," he breathed, gently caressing her breasts.

Meadow submissively stammered.

"Go on. It's just us," Fib continued, sucking on a nipple.

"F-fuck me, Fib," she squeaked. "Ah ... p-please ... !"

He pulled away from her tits. "Mmm ... good girl. Now, roll over. All fours."

Meadow did as ordered. She always did.

"Lift that rump. Mm, raise your tail ... yeah ... " The other mouse squeaked, sighed, and sucked air, repositioning himself so that he was on his knees behind her, paws rubbing up and down her back as he pushed into her pink, needy sex.

Meadow's whiskers stiffened, body rocking forward as--

Hump!

Fib grunted, paws gripping her hips now.

Hump!

"Mmph!" Meadow's cheek wound up on a pillow. She didn't have time to lift her head before the next thrust arrived. And the next!

Fib dropped to all fours, chest on her back, hips motoring non-stop.

Her tail sought his out, and they entwined together.

When her climax came, Meadow tried to muffle her screams into the pillow. The bed was up against the wall, and she didn't know if anyone was in the room next door.

Fib's thrusts suddenly stopped, and he stayed at a hilt, gasping, face scrunching up as he spilled his passion into her.

Meadow turned her head, looking over her shoulder. "Fib ... "

"That was great."

"Mmhmm," she agreed.

Fib pulled out of her and got on his side, spooning up behind her, and they cuddled and nuzzled afterward, a picture of post-coital cuteness.

Meadow said, "You know what ... "

"What?" he murmured, gently kissing the back of her neck.

"I don't think I've worried all day." Had she? "I can't ... can't really remember the last time I wasn't anxious about something." The awards ceremony, for instance. A year or two ago, she would've been fretting about it. Not just about how Fib would do, but all the socializing, the people. Trying to pass her country girl self off as someone who could function in the city. Instead, she'd been looking forward to it. She'd had fun.

And the new house ... why wasn't she panicking about that? It was a big deal!

Fib continued his nuzzling.

"Now that I know I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you, it's like ... I just feel so happy ... " She couldn't finish the sentence, getting choked up. "I'm sorry it took me so long ... "

"Butterscotch," the warm, confident mouse cooed. "Don't be sorry."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too. Always."

Meadow knew this feeling was fleeting. Not the love. She was secure in that. But the ... confidence? The whatever it was feeling that was making her feel well-adjusted and not like a self-conscious misfit? Eventually, things would normalize. The 'drug' would wear off. That's what happened, right? That was life.

Worry would find her again.

But maybe, just maybe ... her relationship with Fib had changed her? For the better?

"The tub is big enough for two mice," Fib murmured. "How 'bout a hot bath?"

Meadow beamed and nodded. "Yes, please!"

"I'll start the water. Just relax for a minute."

As he wriggled and got up and left the room, Meadow noticed the gold, metallic Emmy, sitting exactly where she'd left it. The face of the statuette was pointed in her direction.

"What are _you_looking at?" Meadow said, unable to stifle a giggle.

Kendra's sex clenched and spasmed, the rabbit whimpering, hugging Baxter with ecstatic desperation.

"Oh ... oh, ooh!" the otter chirped. She was having an orgasm! He humped faster, harder, desperate to join her. His penis tingled. He gasped, hilted, and came in the rabbit's hot vagina. His eyes rolled back. "Gahh!"

He flooded her depths, painted her walls, and felt the excess running off the base of his shaft and to his balls.

"Ahh ... hah," Kendra panted, holding to him, watching the expressions on his face. She licked the drool dangling from her lips.

Eyes refocusing, he licked her lips, too.

They ended up trading wet, sloppy kisses.

Kendra returned to her senses first, ears standing tall. "We ... we'll get caught."

"Right. Right. I'll ... just pull out of you."

"Just pull out," she echoed, nodding. "Mm-hmm."

The otter didn't do it. Instead, he began to slowly grind back into her.

"B-baxter," she whimpered pitifully. "Ah!"

"You feel so good," breathed. "I can't ... not yet ... "

"You feel good, too."

They kissed again.

Passionately.

Lips smacked apart.

"But for real," she urged seriously.

The otter sighed and pulled his cock back and out. It flopped, dripping heavily of a mix of ... well, everything. He quickly pulled his underwear and pants back up and pressed the 'resume' button.

The rabbit got her panties back on, checking her dress for stains.

Ding!

They arrived, and the doors parted.

Both of them hurried out, the rabbit practically hopping.

"I've never done anything like that. Holy hell!" The rabbit's blood surged with adrenaline. "I'm so buzzed!"

"Heh, I bet." The otter's experiences had been way more ... adventurous. For a start, he'd had sex with Dotty all over the station. Even in the board room! He could've been fired. This was low stakes compared to that.

When they reached his apartment door, the otter pulled out his keys. Unlocking it, he pushed the door open, gesturing her inside.

"Can I still have that tea?" Kendra wondered.

"Coming right up!" He shut and locked the door behind them, flipping on the lights and ambling to the kitchen.

While he filled a pot and heated the stovetop, the rabbit wandered around the living room. "Lot of sports memorabilia ... "

"You going to make fun of me?"

"No, it's awesome," she said. "I was a college jock, remember?"

Baxter smiled, getting the mugs and tea bags ready while he waited for the water to boil. When it did, he filled both mugs and turned the stove off.

Bringing the tea to Kendra, he said, "Careful. Let it cool a bit first."

"Thanks." The orange rabbit clutched the mug with both paws, blowing the steam away.

They stood in silence for a moment.

Baxter than asked, "Are you, uh, gonna tell Sakona about this?"

"You gonna tell Fib?" the rabbit countered.

"Why would I tell him?" The otter blinked.

"I know you think you're rivals, but I see you talking all the time."

"I guess ... "

"Look, they'll find out," Kendra admitted sheepishly. "The whole station. I'd rather we be open about it, else it'll seem like we have something to hide. People will read into things that aren't there. We aren't doing anything wrong. I wanted this." She paused. "I wanted you."

Baxter smiled.

"This is the first time I've been with anyone since ... " Eight months? A year? "Well, since I moved to the Midwest." Kendra looked down at her tea, cheeks hot beneath her fur. "I really like you."

The otter was touched. He reached out with a webbed paw, cupping the rabbit's cheek, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes. "I like you, too," he whispered. "I've been thinking about you for months, Kendra."

"Really?"

"Yeah ... " The otter pulled his paw away from her face. "Sometimes, you're the only thing on my mind." He looked around the room and then back to her. "I know what people say about me, but ... you can trust me," he swore.

Kendra smiled back at him. "We need some ground rules, though."

"For work?"

"At the station, I'm in charge." The rabbit nodded. "I can't give you special treatment, and you can't put me in a position where I'm forced to choose between you and someone else. The station manager can do whatever Roslyn asks cause he's not getting fired. I'm lower on the totem pole. If people complain about the job I'm doing ... "

"I understand," he said seriously. After a moment, though, he smiled and asked, "So, does that mean I'm in charge in the bedroom?"

"I didn't say that?"

"But it was implied! You're the work boss, I'm the bedroom boss."

"We're ... co-chairs of the bedroom," the rabbit suggested.

"Mm, I don't know," he teased musically. "You seemed awfully submissive back in the elevator."

She blushed. "Well ... heh, that was only one time! Not enough to draw a conclusion from."

"You're right." A sage nod. "We'll have to do it again to be sure about our roles."

"That so?"

"Mm-hmm. You might even have to shower with me and spend the night in my bed." The otter took a sip of tea.

Kendra, green eyes sparkling, peered at the otter as she took a sip of hers. "If you insist ... "