Do No Harm

November 2003

"Another drink, sir?"

Steven Paris shifted his tired gaze from the airplane window to look at the stewardess. The tigress might have been his own age, and in another time and place, he would have been much more aware of the above-average lascivious look in the feline's eye. Instead, he managed a weak smile and said, "I thought two was the limit when flying."

"First class hath its privileges," the lady cat grinned. "You haven't flown front cabin before?"

"Actually, no."

"This must be a special trip," the stewardess said. "Vacation?"

Steven hesitated. "I'm not sure what you'd call it." He contemplated the two tiny bottles of scotch on the tray table in front of him. Both were empty, their dregs in a small plastic cup accompanied by a very small amount of water from some unprepossessing ice cubes. The temptation was strong, but only because of self-pity, and that was something he wasn't ready to fall into just yet. "I think it's time for a change. Could you bring me a Coke, please?"

"Coke and scotch?"

"No, just the Coke. I think I'm high enough. No pun intended."

"You got it."

The tigress returned in short order with an entire can, and a fresh cadre of ice cubes inside a real glass. Yes, first class did seem to have its little perks. The part of him that was still a medical intern weighed the implications of caffeine versus alcohol, the stresses of the past several days, the chemical processes of the sugar-to-energy cycle... After half a minute of frustrating himself with this, the collie told the little bastard in the white coat to shut up and go back to his cage. It just didn't matter right now.

Steven returned to staring out of the window, seeing little other than a nearly full moon, in the first few days of its wane, hanging over miles and miles of ocean far below. It was a nighttime trip across water, the red-eye from Los Angeles to Honolulu, suspended between nothing and nowhere--much like his life at the moment. In a few days, he would turn 28, but the weight upon him made him feel three times that old. He was physically exhausted, mentally bankrupt, and spiritually bereft. He would let himself sleep, if not for that single continual pounding of memory, like a skipping DVD in his brain, replaying the same damned scene over and over and over again...

He shut his eyes, hoping to wait out the storm once more.

---

"When does the flight arrive?"

"The nice lady on th' phone told me it was on time, and would be here at 5:35 this morning."

Ricky Sebastian glanced at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. He should have been sleepy; he'd tossed and turned enough to keep his lover awake, which was no mean feat. Charles "Tiny" Morton was known to have slept through everything from fire drill alarms to a 7.6 earthquake. Even so, a simple disturbed twitch from Ricky's tail, and Tiny was awake in a flash to make sure his mate was all right.

"It's after six. Where is he?" Ricky fretted.

"Doncha worry too much," the big hyena smiled. "All that airport security works both ways; he's fine. Just gotta get his luggage."

"Damned airport security is what's keeping us out here," the petulant raccoon spat harshly. "I'm going in there."

Tiny grinned and grabbed a handful of striped tail. "No ya ain't. But if you promise t' be good, you can stand on th' roof t' git a better view."

"Mahalo nui loa (1)," Ricky said, smiling back. He hopped out of the big van--there wasn't anything smaller that Tiny could have squeezed into, much less driven--and scrambled up to the roof. From this vantage point, he had a much better view of the area, including the scowl from a security officer who was no doubt trying to earn himself a bonus. Ricky smiled and waved, then turned his attention back to looking for the handsome young collie he hadn't seen for several years.

Suddenly from one edge of the concourse came a series of surprised noises, sounds of things falling over, people gasping, then shouting. Ricky looked over quickly, even as Tiny got out of the van. A pale-furred bear, perhaps in his mid-fifties, had collapsed across several pieces of luggage, grasping his left arm. A lady bear, apparently his mate, was shouting his name, getting very little response.

"It's his heart!" she shouted to the crowd. "Someone help him!"

Tiny ran immediately to the area, his former speed on the football gridiron not diminished a whit by his several years as a coach. "Give him room!" he shouted, clearing a path. He knelt next to the gasping bear, gently feeling around his neck.

"Hey, what's that hyena doing?" shouted a well-dressed lion nearby. "Get away from him, you big oaf!"

Ricky sprinted up half a second later. "That 'big oaf' has a degree in sports medicine and is a volunteer paramedic, so piss off, Simba!"

The lion took a nervous step backward, guarding himself with his slim briefcase. Ricky was small, but when riled up over his mate, he could be more dangerous than a dozen crazed wolverines. Shifting his tie, the lion stepped away in an attempt to regain whatever dignity he thought he had in the first place.

"Got a pulse," Tiny said. His face held great concentration. "Has he got a heart condition, ma'am?"

"Yes," the lady bear whimpered. "He's got pills for it. They made him pack them in his luggage, he usually carries--"

"Can you get 'em, please?" Beneath Tiny's hands, the bear gasped for breath, still in pain but not as panicked as before. "Can ya hear me, sir?"

"Yes," the bear panted.

"What's yer name?"

A pause. "Biggs. Raymond Biggs."

"What's the date?"

"I know it's Tuesday," the bear managed a smile. "Vet's Day?"

"That'll work," Tiny grinned. "Ya know where ya are?"

"On top of a bunch of suitcases, I think," the bear said. "Do I pass the test, doc?"

"You're gonna be fine," the hyena said softly.

"Tiny," Ricky said, "the paramedics are having trouble getting a gurney through."

Tiny looked at the bear. "Can you move at all, Mr. Biggs?"

"Wouldn't want to try to walk right now," he said.

"Don't have to. As long as you feel strong enough, I can carry ya. Ready?"

"Don't hurt your--"

Biggs didn't even get the rest of the safety admonition out of his mouth before Tiny had him off the ground and on the way to the ambulance. "Ain't the first time I done this," he smiled.

Ricky, all waving arms and tail, cleared a path for his mate to carry the stricken bear through the crowd to the ambulance. The paramedics held the gurney steady as Tiny put the bear down gently. "Possible heart attack," he said. "Pulse kinda thready but there. Oriented to place an' time, seems t' know what's what. No signs of stroke; got a smile an' coherent speech out of him."

"Medications?" one paramedic asked.

Biggs' mate came running up, waving a bottle of pills. "He takes these, they made him pack them--"

The other medic took a glance and nodded. "We can fix this," he said with confidence. "You his wife? Gonna ride along?"

"Yes," she said weakly. She looked startled. "The bags..."

"I'll get Airport Security to take 'em to your airline office," said Tiny. "They'll be fine. See t' Mr. Biggs. Come back later."

"Thank you," she cried even as the back doors to the ambulance banged shut. Tiny slapped the doors to make sure they were shut and to signal the driver to head out. He waved them on and watched them go. Biggs was in good hands now. He turned to see Ricky looking at him with something like "My Hero" eyes, and he blushed a little. "He's gonna be fine," he said.

"I know," Ricky grinned. "You can fix anything. Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"Thanks, babe," Tiny mumbled, hugging his mate close, despite a few reproving stares. "Took yer mind off Steven for a minute, didn't it?"

"You have a point. Where is he?"

The crowd, much of which had been focused on the immediacy of a sudden crisis in its midst, began to regain its lack of cohesion. As it milled and thinned away, the disbursing crowd made anything that didn't move more visible--which was how Ricky was able to spot Steven about forty yards away, close to the doors of the baggage claim area.

"There he is!" the raccoon shouted. He touched Tiny's arm. "Do you want to see to the Biggs' bags and meet us back at the van?"

"Good plan," Tiny said, grinning. "It's easier for you to fly over th' tops of ever'body's heads."

"Silly hulk." Ricky kissed Tiny quickly on one cheek and bounded off, all but fulfilling the hyena's prediction.

Ricky slowed as he got closer. He had been prepared to see differences in Steven; it had been a few years after all, and change happens to us all. What Ricky had suspected was that the young doctor-to-be was getting nothing but better looking, and that his original studliness would merely be enhanced from the level of Unbearably Gorgeous to that of Agonizingly Magnificent. Expectations could be the death of you, the wiser part of his brain cautioned him gently; does that look like a prime candidate for Puppy of the Year?

No, it didn't, Ricky realized. He knew that the collie had trouble--that's why Ricky had funded this emergency flight on the only available seat left on the plane--but the trouble had to be even worse than Steven had first let on. The Steven who stood huddled against the wall was not the bright and powerful young pup who had been such a good friend to Ricky for so long. Shrunken within himself, Steven lacked only ragged and torn clothing to look like an old, impoverished, downtrodden street bum.

Ricky approached slowly. "Steven?"

The collie jerked his head up spasmodically. "Ricky. I was... I didn't see you..."

The urge to throw himself into Steven's arms and hug him senseless was huge, first for the joy of seeing him, and then for the sense of wanting to help him. Ricky reached a hand out tenderly and took Steven by the arm. "The van's just over here. It's probably been a very long night. Are you hungry? Would you like to stop and get breakfast somewhere?"

"I, um..."

Ricky trusted his instincts; Steven wasn't drunk, nor was he on any kind of drugs. There was no telling how long it had been since the collie had slept, and with everything else... "Come on," he said softly. "Let's get you home. We'll talk later."

Tiny joined them a moment later; the look on his face briefly asked the question whether or not he'd have someone else to carry. Steven managed to walk, leaning on Ricky's shoulders. Tiny wordlessly took the bag and threw it into the back of the van.

"Breakfast?" Tiny wondered.

When Steven didn't answer, Ricky said, "Let's get him home. I think sleep is going to be the first order of business."

---

Generally speaking, no drive in Hawaii, even on The Big Island, could be considered long in a literal sense. For Ricky, it seemed interminable. Steven gazed out the back window, eyes hazy and dull, making very little use of the small talk that Ricky attempted. The raccoon quickly gave up and instead pointed out a few bits of scenery and items of historical interest, none of it too visible in the pre-sunrise gray. Even this faded; Steven seemed completely at the end of his tether.

Tiny pulled the van up into the steep driveway as Ricky signaled the garage door to open. "Home sweet home," he said with gentle joviality. "How about I get yer bag?"

"Thank you," Steven mumbled. Shaking his head, he looked over at Tiny and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Tiny. I'm sorry to be so... well, so--"

"No problem," the hyena said. "Jet lag'll do it to ya every time." Tiny knew better, but it seemed like a good excuse to use.

"Let's get you some rest," Ricky agreed, helping the collie out of the back seat. "Come on, I've got the guest room all ready."

Ricky opened the door to what he insisted on calling a "bungalow", although in fact it was a very spacious four bedroom home that was only a short walk to the beach. He guided Steven gently through the foyer and toward the guest room, off the hall from the large living room. "Just down here. Bathroom is right next door here. Would you like a bath? We've had big garden-style tubs put in; it's sort of a requirement for Tiny."

Steven shook his head slowly. "Not now." After a long pause, he added, "Thanks. Maybe later."

"Sure," Ricky said softly. He opened the door into a room that was done in muted blues and silver grays. As Steven leaned against the doorway, Ricky pulled back the duvet on the queen-sized bed and made a brief show of fluffing pillows. "You're sort of in luck," he said airily. "My parents were visiting last week, so I washed all the bed linens only a few days ago. Sometimes, this room gets two inches of dust..."

The raccoon broke off, seeing Steven's blank yet sad look. Ricky gave way to his nurturing instincts and embraced Steven gently. The collie could barely return the hug, weak, nearly exhausted. "Come on," Ricky whispered. "It's all right. Come sit down."

Steven shambled to the bed and sat on its edge. After making sure that the collie wouldn't simply fall over, Ricky moved to the windows, shutting the blinds and drawing the curtains. The room darkened, becoming both welcoming and cool at the same time. Returning to his friend, Ricky reached gently to help Steven remove his shirt. Ricky had a desire to make some joke about this being only the second time that he had been able to take Steven's clothes off, but it just didn't seem the right time.

Steven offered no resistance as Ricky helped pivot him fully onto the bed to stretch out. Shoes and socks came away quickly. Ricky paused, wondering exactly what was safe to say, or to do. His hesitation registered on Steven's consciousness enough to make the young intern laugh softly. "This may be the first time in history that Ricky Sebastian was worried about taking off a guy's pants."

Chuckling made producing a decent raspberry difficult, but Ricky was glad for the humor. "Don't tempt me, Dr. Kildare." He sobered slightly. "You want to leave them on?"

Steven shook his head. "Help me, will you? I'm so out of it."

"Some conquest," Ricky smiled softly. He helped Steven remove the jeans, folded them carefully and put them on a nearby chair. Steven wasn't kidding about being out of it; he was nearly unconscious, yet his breathing was quick and shallow. Ricky leaned over and pulled the duvet gently over the handsome, naked young pup. Steven reached up to take Ricky's hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His breathing, almost like sobbing, caught for a moment. He tried to say something more and couldn't.

Ricky shook his head. "You rest now; we'll talk later." He ran his other hand gently over Steven's face and chin. "Rest."

With an effort, Steven pulled himself closer to Ricky and kissed him on the lips. "I love you," he said, and then collapsed onto the pillows, falling instantly asleep.

---

Ricky silently closed the door behind him, stood in the hallway for a moment getting his own breath back. He tried to reconcile what it was that he was feeling. A flood of memories nearly overwhelmed him, of a night--a single night--that was burned into his mind more powerfully than anything else he had ever experienced. The night before he graduated from Leland University, his most cherished and sought-after fantasy had finally come true: He and Steven had become lovers. The kiss that still hovered ghostlike on his lips reminded him just how much he had missed--and truly loved--the young collie.

Almost silently, Tiny came into the living room far enough for Ricky to see him. His face wore concern, a touch of confusion. He spread his arms slightly, as if to ask, Anything I can do?

Ricky trotted up to his lover quickly and embraced him fiercely, trying to hold back tears--of pain, of guilt, of sorrow for Steven, he couldn't tell which. Tiny held him gently in his powerful embrace, then picked up Ricky and cradled him in his arms as Ricky held his neck and sobbed against his shoulder.

"Shh," whispered Tiny. "It's gonna be okay." He paused as Ricky tried to regain himself. "Is it really that tough, seeing him again?"

The raccoon pulled slightly away from his lover and looked deeply into his eyes. "Sometimes, I think you know everything."

"Not ever'thing," Tiny shook his head, smiling a bit. "Just you."

Ricky kissed him for a long time, then leaned back against the hyena's shoulder. "I love you so much," he said. "My life would be so empty without you, you know that?"

"I kinda guessed," Tiny teased. "Did he finally tell ya what th' matter was?"

"No." Ricky sighed. "That's going to take a while, I think. He may not wake up until dinnertime." Taking a deep breath, he looked at Tiny and said, "He kissed me."

"I thought youd've liked that, and here you are cryin' in my arms." Tiny managed a smile. "You still want him, don'cha?"

It took a long moment for Ricky to answer. "You know I'll always tell you the truth, sweetie, so I'll have to say 'maybe.' He'll always be my pretty puppy, and he's always going to be attractive." He paused again and looked his lover in the eyes. "I think what he needs is love. Our love. But not that kind." Ricky smiled. "That's why I said 'maybe.' He's still a sexy dog, but he needs me in a way that's not about sex. Or about a relationship." He kissed Tiny's cheek. "Not like you. Like us."

"So you wanna keep me?" Tiny grinned again.

"Just try running away from me. I'll tackle you, wrestle you to the ground and pin you down!"

"Sounds good to me."

---

_ "DAMN YOU, PARIS!!!"_

Steven's eyes snapped open, his arms and legs flailing to fend off an attack that didn't come. He had pounded something, was tied up by something--no, wound up--no... Darkness. Somewhere. Alone. He whined in a way that he hadn't done since he was a whelp.

A door burst open. "Steven? Ya okay?"

The collie pulled away from the voice at first, pulled away from the huge shape. His breathing was still quick, labored, but his mind was beginning to return to him. He looked around quickly, starting to catalog things--headboard, duvet, drawn blinds, bed... safety.

"Steven?"

"Oh God," he moaned, putting his hands to his head. "Tiny. Oh God..."

Tiny moved slowly to the bed and sat down on it. "Steven, give me your hand."

He obeyed, felt a pair of very large and gentle fingers along his wrist. Breath, sweat, fear, recovery, darkness... safety.

"Let me see your other hand."

Turned this way and that; examined; a large hand moving across wrist and forearm. Adrenaline, hyperventilation, rapid pulse, shock... nightmare. Safety.

"Surprised y' hands aren't bruised."

"I can't really feel them yet."

"Shock."

Steven nodded. "I've been running the inventory. Got all the symptoms, in spades."

"Looks like it might fade soon. Y'okay? Y' wanna be alone, or can I get ya somethin'?"

"Not alone," Steven shook his head. "Not yet."

"I'm here."

Slowly, the collie regained a more normal rhythm of breathing. "Thanks, Tiny. Or do they still call you that?"

The hyena grinned. "They can if they're nice about it. Otherwise, it's 'Coach' to th' kids and 'Charles' to th' staff."

For a long moment, Steven couldn't talk. He didn't know what to say, or what to do. It felt as if he were shaking, or shivering; if it was still shock, then he might feel cold, but it didn't seem like that was the problem. Tiny waited, watching him closely. A thousand memories flew across Steven's mind, images of Tiny back at Hillard East, of his asking for help with his biology homework, of the skiing trip that some of "the guys" had taken several years ago. Who wants massages? Steven had asked, and Tiny had been the first to answer.

"How d'ya feel, Steven?"

He looked up into two of the most caring eyes he'd seen in a very long time, and something deep in his chest broke. Steven practically fell into the hyena's embrace, feeling himself shaking all over as Tiny held him tightly.

"S'okay," Tiny murmured. "Whatever it is, it's okay."

"Never felt like..." Steven broke off. His speech was nearly like crying. "Too much at once."

The strong grip didn't diminish. "S'okay now," Tiny said. "Nobody gonna get to ya here."

After a moment, Steven said, "Dreams."

"Well," Tiny conceded, "can't help ya much there. I'm not Sigmund Fraud."

"Freud," Steven giggled slightly.

"Hey, it got a laugh out of ya." Tiny skritched the collie's head briefly. "Feelin' any better?"

Surprisingly, Steven did. He gave Tiny a squeeze. "Thanks," he said. A bit self-consciously, he said, "I haven't had a bath since I can't remember when. I probably stink. Sorry."

"Hey, I'm a coach," Tiny said. "This is nothin'. Try a handfulla bears, bulls and big cats after a summer scrimmage."

Steven laughed out loud over that one, laughed as if he were hysterical--and, he realized, he probably was. He discovered that he didn't really mind being hysterical as long as Tiny kept hold of him. It was like being some strange kind of kite, tied to an anchor more secure than any wind could possibly overcome. Steven wiped a tear away. "Thanks, Tiny. I needed that."

"You prob'ly need a bath, too," the hyena grinned. "Want me to run some water?"

Slowly, Steven pulled away from Tiny, looked him in the eye. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Somewhere between warm and not-too-hot."

"Think I can just about figure that one out."

"Tiny, I..." Steven broke off, not sure what it was that he was thinking, or feeling, or doing. He shook his head as if to clear it. When he looked back at the muscular man who sat on the bed next to him, he suddenly realized that he was beginning to sprout an erection. He grabbed more of the duvet to cover himself and issued a small whine that surprised him.

"You okay, Steven?"

"I don't know," the collie said honestly. He found himself wrestling with feelings that made no sense to him. He wasn't... and Tiny was already spoken for, if nothing else, and... (Had he noticed?)

Tiny hesitated for just a moment, then said softly, "Why don't I go run that tub for ya? And if ya want, I'll get a robe." He smiled quickly. "Don't worry; we have guest robes for people who are bigger'n Ricky and smaller'n me. Seems most folks fit that category."

Steven managed a brief laugh. "Thank you."

"S'okay." Tiny patted the collie's shoulder. "Back in a minute."

The big hyena left the room with hardly a sound, turning slightly sideways to get through the door, a motion that looked completely unconscious, no doubt due to many years of having to repeat it. Steven shifted in bed, trying to understand what his body was trying to tell him, and doing his best to cover himself in the bargain. The sound of water running in the tub nearby gave him one answer--he needed to piss like, well, someone who hadn't pissed in a while. That will cause an erection easily enough; it helps pinch off the urethra a bit so that we guys don't piss ourselves in the middle of the night.

Desperate thoughts make desperate lies.

After a few moments, Tiny appeared at the door with a white terry-cloth robe. "Here ya go," he said. "Ain't fancy, but we get a great price on 'em at the university." After a pause, he said, "Steven, are you really okay? Need anything?"

"I, um..." Steven took the robe and pulled it around him, hoping that he could keep enough fabric in front of his embarrassment to prevent any further of the same. "I'm feeling a little weak. Maybe I could lean on you...?"

"Anytime." Tiny offered a hand, which Steven took with gratitude and something else that he refused to name at the moment. The hyena put another hand around the collie's waist and guided him to the door. Steven fought off a furious blush and questioned everything from his sanity to his ethics. He stepped away from Tiny at the bathroom door.

"I think I've got it from here, thanks."

"Can I bring ya somethin' t' drink, maybe?"

Steven forced a laugh. "Maybe I had more to drink than I thought I did..."

Tiny nodded. "Water and a.s.a., stat." He grinned. "Be right back."

With the door to the bathroom mostly closed, Steven stood at the bowl and tried to make his traitorous member soften enough to perform its primary function. The knock startled him; he closed his robe swiftly. "Yeah?"

"How about I just give ya these and leave ya alone for a while?" Tiny, showing exceptional discretion, wasn't looking in through the slight gap in the doorway at all; to do so would mean looking into a mirror that, Steven realized, would have revealed a great deal more than was advisable at the moment.

"Thanks." Well-covered, but still keeping most of himself behind the door, Steven accepted the bottle of water and the aspirin tablets gratefully. "I'll be out in a bit."

"Take yer time," Tiny said. "Ricky will prob'ly be back in about half an hour or so; went to get some dinner for us."

"Is it that late?"

"Not really--about four. We weren't sure when you'd be up. Go ahead and soak for a while. Y' can really lose time in a tub. Y' know how to turn on the Jacuzzi jets?"

"I think I can figure it out." Steven paused. He felt that he should say something else. "Thanks, Tiny," he said lamely.

"See ya in a while. Towels in th' rack above the can. Holler if ya need somethin'."

Holler wasn't exactly the word Steven would have used.

---

Charles "Tiny" Morton was the oldest of the six Morton children; he'd been followed by two boys and three girls, in that order. As both the first born and the eldest son, he was the logical choice to receive training from his father in that most masculine of pastimes, backyard grilling. Tiny had gotten very good at it over the years, taking the marinade and preparation tips from his mother and learning the skill of handling fire from his father. He had all the appreciative audience he could handle from Ricky, who seemed to eat nearly his own weight in grilled meats every time Tiny fired up the coals.

So it was that Ricky found his mate on the lanai*[2]*, a light breeze from off the ocean turning a wisp of smoke from the grill into a kind of offering to the various Kings of the island who had kept the land a paradise. "We are so going to spoil this puppy," Ricky announced, giving Tiny a hug. "I got a little of everything from the store. We got local kine grindz*[3]* for the boy. Two scoop!"

"That's why they call it Mixed Grill." Tiny kissed the raccoon on his cheek. "Hope Steven's hungry."

"I don't think that will be a problem--once he's awake."

"Forgot t' tell ya: He's up. I run a bath for him a while ago; figured he'd soak for a good long time."

"How long a time?"

Tiny glanced through the kitchen window and checked the wall clock. "Bout an hour, little less. Heard him run some more hot water about twenty minutes ago. Oh, and the jets fired up."

"Oh boy, hot and wet," Ricky deadpanned. Tiny snorted a laugh. "How is he? Did he say anything?"

For a long moment, Tiny didn't answer; to Ricky, it looked as if the hyena were trying to recall some long-lost equation from algebra class. "Not with words."

Ricky's eyes grew large.

"Naw, nothin' like that," Tiny chuckled. He rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "Well, I mean, nothin' happened like that. He was... well, he... had a stiffy."

Summoning some hidden reserve of strength, Ricky fought to keep his face from betraying his desire to begin braying with laughter. He coughed slightly and said, in as even a tone as he could muster, "Did he seem like he was... interested?"

Again, Tiny paused. "Not sure."

The careful, thoughtful nature of the response cut short Ricky's desire to laugh. "Tiny, are you serious?"

The hyena shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, it's a guy thing to wake up with a boner." He pointed at the grinning raccoon. "And don't go there, yer gonna crack a joke about girls. I'm just sayin' that it might have been just that, one of those wake-up-with-one things. Except..." Again, he seemed to struggle for words. "It was like he was tryin' t' tell me somethin', but he couldn't say it. I thought maybe I should just not say anything."

Ricky stood on tiptoe and kissed his lover warmly. "You are the most wonderful person on this whole planet, and quite possibly in the rest of the solar system besides."

"Thanks." He grinned. "I love you too."

"You start getting the food ready for the grill; I'll go see how the hot dog is cooking."

"He oughta be pretty tender by now."

Ricky laughed. "Good one! I'll tell him you said so."

At the door to the bathroom, Ricky paused to listen for a moment. He could hear the Jacuzzi jets churning the water to foam; he made his knock a little louder than he would do ordinarily. "Steven? It's Ricky."

"I'm okay," said a self-conscious voice. "Haven't drowned or anything."

"Glad to hear it." The raccoon paused. "May I come in, or...?"

A long pause. "Maybe I'd better just get out of the tub."

"Okay. Need anything?"

"Tiny brought me a robe; I should be fine."

"Want anything from your bag or anything?"

"I'm fine."

Ricky's heart fell slightly, for no reason that he could fathom. It was the expected conversation, after all. He certainly didn't expect an invitation to join Steven in the tub, nor did he consider offering a rub-down with several towels. It was, as Ricky was afraid it would be, an awkward conversation.

"Steven?"

The jets were turned off; water began draining. "Yeah?"

"I just..." Inwardly, Ricky sighed. "Never mind. Take your time. I'll be in the kitchen helping Tiny get some dinner ready. Do you want something to pupu on?"

After a long moment, the door opened a crack and a wet puppy nose stuck itself into the hallway. "I know I didn't hear you say what I thought you said."

Ricky did a short double-take, then laughed. "Sorry. It's all my Hawaiian babble. Didn't you ever go to a Chinese restaurant and see an appetizer called a pupu platter? It means snack, or to eat a snack. Something to nibble on."

The nose withdrew back into the bathroom, and Ricky heard a noise like someone falling on the floor.

"Steven?!"

He was about to burst into the room when he heard the sound of hysterical laughter--quite literally hysterical, in a register much higher than the collie would ordinarily have produced. Even Tiny came trotting up toward the door in response first to Ricky's cry, then to the confusing sounds coming from within the bathroom. It gave Ricky a shiver even as it made him grin at Tiny, who was just shaking his head and smiling.

"I'm glad I didn't offer him pipi kaula*[4]*," Ricky said softly.

"Okay, Steven," Tiny said above the laughter. "Yer gonna hyperventilate if you keep it up too long, ya know that."

Slowly, the laughter began to break up, with longer gasps of breath in between. "Sorry," Steven managed to croak out. "Hang on. S'okay." More laughter, calming down slowly.

Ricky looked at Tiny, who simply shrugged. "He's still a med student," he said softly, still smiling. "Figured that'd get to him quicker'n anything else."

"This is going to be like living in a M*A*S*H unit," Ricky snorted.

The laughter had more or less abated by this time. "Sorry, guys," Steven managed. "I'm weaker than I thought. Talk about ROTFL."

Tiny looked confused.

"Rolling On The Floor Laughing," Ricky translated. "That's what you get for not text messaging as much as I do."

"Sorry," the hyena admitted. "I'm still learning English."

This time, Ricky's raspberry was much better formed, and quite juicy in its delivery.

---

The sun was beginning a low, slow setting as Tiny, Ricky, and Steven relaxed on the lanai and chatted. After his bout with hysteria, Steven had managed to dry himself off, make his way back to his room, and put on some shorts and an A-frame shirt--exactly the sort of outfit that used to give Ricky absolute fits back at Hillard Hall. The fact that both he and Tiny were wearing pretty much the same sort of outfit (not counting Tiny's extra-large apron--his mother had made it for him--bearing the inscription "Kiss the cook... if you dare") didn't seem to make any difference to Ricky.

"A guy could get used to this," Steven sighed, sprawled in a reclining lawn chair. "I see why they call it paradise."

"Purty much like this year round," Tiny said, poking a long fork into various items on his grill. "I miss havin' snow at Christmas, but it's great otherwise."

"That doesn't matter too much anyway," Ricky said. "We'll start putting up Christmas lights anyway, probably the day after Thanksgiving. It's fun, wrapping all the white fairy lights around the trunks of the palms."

"Any excuse to climb," Tiny grinned.

"Well, I see that hasn't changed," Steven chuckled.

"Yes, it has," countered Ricky. "There aren't any good second story windows to peek into."

The three friends shared a comfortable laugh, then a slightly less comfortable silence. "I want to thank you for bringing me out here," the collie said softly. "I hope I'll be better company soon."

"I kinda liked the part where you were laughing," Tiny said.

Steven, as if offering an encore, chuckled. "I'll probably be better tomorrow."

Hesitantly, Ricky asked, "Steven, I don't want to push. I just want you to know that we're here for you, whenever you're ready."

"I know." He looked over at Ricky, smiling, and the raccoon finally saw that truly beautiful young man that he'd known several years before. "Let's not spoil dinner."

"Good idea," Tiny said. "Fer one thing, I'm countin' on you polishin' off a lot of this stuff; we don't have much room in th' fridge."

"I don't think that'll be a problem. I could probably eat--"

"Don't go there," Ricky warned. "Local slang for eating a lot is to pound, and that could go just about anywhere!"

---

Dinner was a robust and deliciously greedy affair, wherein Steven discovered that he'd not had decent competition for a belching contest in far too long. Neighbors, not too close by, didn't seem disturbed by this overt display of testosterone, particularly not when offered a morsel or two from Tiny's grill. Steven couldn't keep up with the names, most of them ordinary and a few either Hawaiian or Chinese, he had no idea which. The people were friendly, jovial, and generous--there were large helpings from a cake, two pies, and a bowl of locally-grown fruits on the table before the evening was over. Steven had the feeling that the neighbors thought that the new haole was in need of some fattening up.

The evening passed in a mellow mood--this time, without the aid of alcohol. Steven found himself finally feeling relaxed. How long had it been? Nearly 72 hours with nothing but scratch sleep, and then the hours that felt more like a coma than any real sleep. The bath to relax his muscles, the light banter, the huge meal--postprandial narcosis crept over the collie like a blanket, and he found that he didn't mind it at all. Paradise indeed.

One of the neighbors, a pretty feline wahine named Ha'iku[5], seemed to make camp sitting next to Steven's lawn chair. The collie found it very easy to be friendly to the lady, despite his weariness. It was as if she had enough energy for them both.

"I didn't know that Ricky and Tiny had such nice friends from the mainland," she teased. "What brings you here?"

Steven looked down for a moment, not so much trying to avoid the question as to see if he actually had an answer. "Call it an emergency vacation, I guess," he chuckled lamely. "A lot of stuff piled up, and I needed some time away. I'm going through med school. Lots of stress." He shook his head quickly before the memory could form itself in his mind again.

"Do med school students get to take such vacations?"

"Not usually," the collie admitted. "This is a case of getting by with a little help from my friends. Ricky was good enough to pay my way."

"That sounds like a pretty good friend."

"He is." Steven smiled. "We all met at college. Leland. Same dorm."

"So," Ha'iku said slyly, "are you mahu too?"

The collie blinked. "Okay, mahalo is 'thank you,' but what's mahu?"

"Gay."

Steven turned to face the lady directly. "No," he said softly. "We're friends."

She shrugged, smiling. "Sounds good to me. We natives don't have any problems with being gay, or straight, or whatever. Haven't you noticed how so many costumes for men look like skirts?" She laughed a little. "Bisexuality is preferred, actually, because that means that there might be children, but otherwise it's no big deal."

"I'm not gay."

Ha'iku shrugged again. "Fine by me, cute boy. Maybe that means that you'd like a walk along the beach later."

Steven forced another chuckle. "Maybe." He shifted in the chair. "I'm still pretty bushed from the weekend. A lot happened."

"Tell me."

"Nah," he shook his head. "It's not interesting."

Ha'iku moved closer, leaning over the arm of the lawn chair, a lascivious smile brewing on her lips as her whiskers turned up gently. "I'll bet you could make anything sound interesting."

Another shift. "Not really."

"C'mon," she said, reaching out a hand toward Steven's, "let's go take a walk--"

"NO." Steven batted the hand away with a wide swipe of his arm. "I don't--"

The collie was suddenly aware that conversation had stopped, with silent, surprised eyes focused on him. His breathing felt quick, panicked, like before, like... like when...

With a sharp cry, Steven flung himself out of the chair and began running as fast as he could toward the beach, following the sound of the surf and the comparative darkness behind houses and the sand beyond.

---

Tiny went first to Ha'iku, who wasn't hurt at all, just surprised. "What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, flustered. "Maybe I came on a little strong ..."

"He's had a bad time recently," Ricky explained to the crowd in general. "Maybe he's feeling a little self-conscious."

Tiny left the rest of the explanations to his mate and began running after Steven. Not many people could best Tiny in a sprint, even with a head start, but Steven apparently was bound and determined to give it a try. The collie was pelting hell-for-leather through the sand, bare-pawed, the pounding of the flow tide crashing onto the shore near him.

"Steven!" Tiny cried as loudly as he could. "Steven, wait!"

He didn't, or couldn't, hear. The hyena lowered his head and found a reserve of power that had served him well on the gridiron some years ago. He let instinct take over as he caught up to Steven and, despite the better judgment of a safety-conscious paramedic, tackled the collie square in his midsection and brought him down. Captor and captive slid in the sand, cushioning some of the blow. For a moment, Steven struggled mightily; Tiny had to pin him down, arms and legs both, and even after that, Steven pulled at his restraints for a few seconds. He looked up at Tiny as if he didn't know who he was.

"Steven!" Tiny panted. "What're ya doin'?"

Breathing heavily, Steven slowly relaxed, gazing into Tiny's eyes with something like confusion, uncertainty, fear, need, a flash of emotions that Tiny couldn't understand. Then, the handsome pup's face began to pull into a mask of pain and fear, tears coming from his eyes so quickly that Tiny couldn't understand how the collie's face had become wet so fast.

"Steven..." Tiny whispered. "Steven, what...?"

"I killed him," Steven whimpered. "I killed him, oh God, Tiny, I killed him!"

---

Some minutes later, the two friends sat on the beach, Tiny's arm around Steven, holding on to him as the young doctor-to-be sobbed against his chest. Not usually the sort to be patient, Tiny had learned some lessons from Ricky over the years. He wanted desperately to ask what Steven had meant, but it wasn't time yet. Tiny made himself quit speculating and wondering, simply holding on to Steven and waiting for him to speak when he was ready.

At length, Steven raised his head and looked out over the moonlit ocean. Tiny recognized the look, at least some of it. The ocean always held a mystic quality about it, calming, constant... even living here for so long hadn't taken away that magic. He chanced a comment. "How ya feelin', Steven?"

Steven blinked, looked back at Tiny, tried a small smile. "Like I'm a lot more stupid than any would-be doctor should be."

"Runnin' down the beach at night don't count."

Steven spat a kind of laugh, shook his head and tried to clear it. He breathed slowly several times, deliberately working on calming himself, and finally he spoke.

"ER rotation," he said simply. "That god-awful 36-plus shift. They blame it on cutbacks, or gaining experience, or whatever. It's a meat-grinder, that's all it is. They try to break us down, and people get killed because of it."

Tiny gave Steven's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Hold on. Just tell me what happened. No fair givin' me th' end of the story first."

"Okay." He looked at Tiny for a moment, his eyes flickering some message that Tiny couldn't quite catch. He looked away, then asked, "Should we go back? Ricky might be getting worried."

"Let's walk slow," Tiny suggested. "Our neighbors are pretty good about bein' considerate; they prob'ly have gone home already, but just in case..."

Steven nodded. "Good."

They stood, brushed off what sand they could and realized that both of them could use either a dip in the water or a very strong curry comb. Together, the friends began walking back to the house, Tiny still resting a protective paw lightly on Steven's back.

"Okay," the hyena said. "ER rotation. I get the feelin' you were on shift a long time."

Again, Steven nodded. "I'd been at work for a good 20 hours by then, actually awake longer than that. I was trying to get some sleep in one of the surgeon's rooms. I don't think I was out for more than a minute. Emergency case came rolling in under his own power. Presented all the symptoms of jaundice, yellow skin beneath his fur, blood in the urine, overall weakness, the whole thing. No particular abdominal pain, so I ruled out physical causes like gall stones or blocked bile ducts. Ordered the tests, LFTs were high, everything consistent with the diagnosis. Jaundice, right? No problem. Slam dunk."

Tiny frowned in thought. "Liver Function Test with high numbers. Yeah, makes sense. History of hepatitis? Or could the patient tell ya?"

For a long moment, the collie didn't answer. "I didn't check. Average middle-class looking guy, not a street junkie with needle tracks. I guess I sort of reverse-profiled. I didn't think about it." He breathed deeply. "I was told over and over that my job in ER was to stabilize the patient; if he's not in serious danger, just keep him stabilized until a doctor can make the diagnosis. I figured he was stabilized."

The hyena considered the implications. It wasn't that big a deal, he thought; jaundice is treatable, even if it's recurring, and the causes needn't be... The frown deepened.

I killed him!

What would be lethal about...?

"Oh, crap..." Tiny said softly. He looked at the collie. "Did you order steroids?"

Steven shook his head grimly.

"Fulminant necrotic hepatitis."

"I was passed out in the back corner of the surgeons' room when the Chief Resident burst in like a flash bomb, followed by a few other high-ranking docs who each wanted a piece of my tail. I was so confused - lack of sleep, being ripped out of a REM cycle by panicked, angry voices, no food in a dozen hours..." Steven breathed in heavily, dumping the words out with the sigh. "Couldn't answer a single question they asked. They thought I was on drugs; gave a piss sample right there in the room with half a dozen people watching. I had to have someone tell me to pull my pants back up.

"When it finally sank in, I found a cab to get back to my apartment - left my car back at the hospital. I thought I'd pass out when I got home, but instead..."

"Ya called us."

"Panic-R-Us." Steven tried to laugh, gave up, feeling that he'd lost the ability. "I finally passed out after Ricky talked to me. I don't know how long I slept - not much, despite it all. And then I found that I had a plane ticket waiting, and..."

"And yer here now."

"Yeah. With a dead man to my credit."

Tiny squeezed Steven's shoulder again. "Are ya sure about that?"

"FNH doesn't have a very good survival rate." Steven stopped walking for a moment. "I killed him, Tiny. I was stupid, and I killed him."

"Steven, you can't be blamed fer something that happened on a bad rotation like that. Th' whole idea of training is that somebody's supposed to have yer back. Why didn't the Chief Resident check up?"

"Because he's the Chief, and he was getting his uninterrupted six hours of sleep on another floor. If he was sleeping. There's stories about him and a nurse or two, but that's probably just gossip crap."

"He was supposed t' be there."

"He wasn't. And I made the mistake. I killed him."

Tiny knew it was wrong, but he couldn't make the case clear enough to Steven, not now anyway. He pulled the collie close to him and hugged him, thinking that was the only way to help him just now. After a moment, Steven wriggled a little self-consciously and pulled away. What...?

Steven forced a facsimile of a laugh. "We're probably not going to be allowed in the house until Ricky vacuums us off."

The hyena felt the confusion for just a moment, then recovered, more for Steven's sake than his own. "Happens alla time. C'mon, we'll get it fixed."

---

Tiny's words were all but a psychic prediction. The neighbors had excused themselves quietly, expressing concern for Steven and offering help if it was needed. Ricky stopped his charges on the lanai, bringing out a couple of large grooming brushes to help get the sand out of everyone's fur. Some no doubt got into the house anyway, and that's one reason why the floors weren't carpeted in the first place. Ricky would tend to that in the morning.

Steven hugged the raccoon tightly, spilling one or two last tears onto Ricky's shoulder. Tiny offered to tell the tale, and Steven gratefully bid the couple good night and went off to his room.

Huddled together in the cool darkness of the master bedroom, Ricky shivered slightly in his lover's arms as Tiny retold the tale. "They can't possibly hold him responsible, can they?" Ricky asked.

Tiny shrugged, shook his head. "Not like that, no. Somebody used a phrase that I thought was really creepy: The Learning Curve Body Count. Nobody talks about it in the open, but it's in there, like the hyena in the living room."

Ricky giggled. "I love when you do that."

"That's why I do it." Tiny smiled in the darkness, snugged his mate a little closer. "Wanna know a secret?"

"Hmm?"

"That's why I didn't wanna go to med school for real."

The raccoon propped himself on his shoulder and looked Tiny in his eyes. "Because you're a hyena?"

It was Tiny's turn to produce a raspberry - not a bad one, at that. "Because of the internship and the rotations and all. Truth told, it scared me. Somethin' like what happened to Steven... that scared me. What if I couldn't fix what was wrong?"

"But you face that all the time as a volunteer paramedic."

"Yeah, but I don't actually train on people who are expecting a doctor to be there. Emergency paramedics, that's guys who know a lot, and they can help a lot, and they can save a life. But we're not the ones stayin' up for two days in a row, and bein' called 'doctors' when we're not really ready."

Ricky thought about that for a long time. "So you wouldn't mind learning from books, and mannequins, and cadavers, but real people are scary?"

"Th' guy in ER ain't a mannequin. If he stops breathin', it's real." Tiny shrugged a little. "I know it's kinda fine-line stuff. I just never felt like I wasn't ready to help as a paramedic, and I never felt like I was the guy who might have to make a life-or-death call. At least not when I was still training. And not alone. Maybe it don't make sense, really, and I'm just tired."

"I think I get it." Ricky curled back into Tiny's embrace and held him close. "You're part of a team; Steven was hung out to dry."

A long moment passed before Tiny exhaled softly: "...yeah. Kinda like that."

A tear escaped Ricky's eyes. "It's not right."

"Nope," whispered Tiny. "It's not."

---

Being college faculty, Tiny could have used the track to run on each morning. His preference was to alter his routes, and therefore the type and distance of ground he covered each time. The beach didn't seem like a good choice for the day, so he decided instead to keep to the sidewalks. This particular route took him past the combined fire and paramedic call station for the area, and it was there that he was hailed briefly.

Tiny turned to see who had called his name. A solidly-built Dalmatian waved at him. "S'up, Tango?" Tiny called.

"Just wavin' at the local hero," he chuckled. Tiny's confused look caused him to continue. "You were at the airport yesterday morning, right? Remember the cardiac case?"

"Bear," the hyena nodded. "Biggs, I think his name was. What happened? He okay?"

"A lot better than okay." Tango, who was rumored to have earned his nickname from nimbly dancing his way out of a house through flaming debris and carrying a child to safety, stepped up to give Tiny a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. "He wants to know who his savior was. We told him that we couldn't give out that sort of information, but he really wants to talk to you. You can contact him at the hospital."

"Think I should?"

Tango shrugged. "Up to you, big guy. Seems nice enough. He sure was impressed with you, though. Maybe it's just because you could carry him."

---

"You," said the bear in the hospital bed, "have the makings of a fine doctor."

Mrs. Biggs, sitting in a chair on the side of her husband's bed, nodded in agreement, her eyes warm and grateful. "You were wonderful yesterday. I was in a panic in spite of myself; you kept your calm and did everything to help us."

Tiny, for whom the "aw, shucks" routine was a genuine expression of his humility, tempered his response. "Thanks, Mrs. Biggs, Mr. Biggs, but I--"

"Doctor Biggs," the bear softly emphasized. "That's why I wanted to talk to you. I already know that you're a volunteer paramedic, and a good one by all accounts. Have you thought about becoming an MD? Based simply upon your performance yesterday, I feel quite confident that I could write a letter of recommendation for you. If you have that idea in mind, son, I'd be more than happy to help."

"I'm not sure I did all that much, 'cept carry you to the ambulance. That's more about my days as a football player than my nights as a paramedic."

The pale-furred bear knotted his eyebrows slightly. "Wait a minute. Now I know why your named sounded familiar! Charles 'Tiny' Morton, from Leland, right? I'm an alumnus. I still follow the football team."

"Follow?" chuckled the lady bear. "He'd be on the bus to each game, if he could get away with it."

"Thanks, dear!" Biggs said with a laughing sneer. Tiny grinned; he could tell a married couple was still in love by the way they bantered. The bear turned back to him. "What was your degree in?"

"BS in sports medicine. I got the job as a coach here, an' I took the training for paramedic certification during th' night classes."

Biggs nodded. "That's the sort of dedication that you'd need to become a doctor. That, and the other reason that I think you'd do well: You broke the rules."

Tiny flinched slightly.

The bear chuckled. "Don't worry, there's no lawsuit coming. I just mean that you put my welfare above the standard rules - waiting for the gurney to show up. You knew I was stable enough to be moved, you checked for that, but you also knew that the crowd was going to be problematic. So you made a choice, in the patient's favor. That's gutsy, in this day and age."

Smiling, Tiny realized that Biggs was right - he broke the rules. It just didn't occur to him in that moment. Something needed to be done, and he did it. "Well... thank you again, Dr. Biggs. I guess I just felt like I wasn't really quite cut out to be a doctor. I'm not sure that I could..." He sighed. "Truth t' tell ya, I've had a friend who just got bit by the system, and well, it scared me all over again."

Both of the Biggs' face pinched slightly in confusion and concern. "Whatever do you mean?" asked Mrs. Biggs.

"Back in my dorm days, I used t' get help in my biology classes from a guy who was pre-med. Steven's smart, but he never made me feel dumb. He got me through a lot of th' harder physiology stuff. He was a year behind, and he got through and into med school. He's been interning."

"Here in the islands?"

"No, sir; on the mainland. St. Christopher's. He was on a rotation, and he ... it was pretty bad. It's possible someone died, and he feels personally responsible."

Biggs nodded slowly. "It's always the doctor's nightmare - the one we couldn't fix, or the one we missed." He paused. "Tell me what happened."

---

"Rick? Phone call for you. It's on 77."

Ricky moved from the wall full of star charts that he was working on and punched in the extension. "Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

The raccoon smiled. "One day, I'm going to get that girl to say, 'It's your husband,' just to see the look on her face."

Tiny chuckled. "How's Steven?"

"Well enough to be left alone. I made sure he knew where the bikes were, in case he wanted to ride around, visit some sights. I think he'll probably stay at the house."

"Good enough. He just might have a visitor this evening, if that's okay with you."

"Miss Beach Gidget of 2003?"

"Somebody who might help."

---

"Steven?" Tiny pocketed his keys as he came inside the house.

"In here," the collie called. Tiny found him sitting at the breakfast table, near the open sliding glass doors. He wore only his denim shorts and a faintly guilty look that Tiny noticed but didn't understand in the slightest.

"How ya doin'?" the coach asked. "Better today?"

"Yes and no, I suppose," Steven answered. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I'd like to talk to you, if you have some time."

"Sure." Tiny smiled. "Got somethin' for you too. Ricky should be home in a little while, and we'll get some dinner started." He sat at the table and looked across at Steven. "What's up?"

For a moment, Steven looked as if he might laugh, then either changed his mind or had it changed for him by whatever was bothering him. After a deep breath, the collie managed to look directly into the hyena's eyes. "Tiny, I think I want to go to bed with you."

A long moment passed during which Tiny had so many conflicting responses that nothing whatsoever expressed itself.

"I know it's not going to happen," Steven said softly, "and that's how it should be. You and Ricky belong together, and I don't want to do anything that would jeopardize that. I just had to tell you, so that you'd know why I was acting so squirrely since I got here. I'm not going to act on this feeling, I promise."

"Why not?"

Steven blinked. "I didn't expect that from you."

Tiny's face showed great compassion. "I'm not askin' ya to do it, I'm just askin' for the reason why you don't."

"Because I don't want to jeopardize your relationship with Ricky."

"That's almost exactly what ya said before," Tiny observed. "Must've been practicing that line a lot."

The collies eyes grew darker. "It's not a line."

"Okay. It's not." The hyena paused. "But it's not what yer feelin', is it?"

Steven was silent for a long moment. "No."

"Then tell me what yer feelin'."

"I don't know if I can."

"You said you wanted to go to bed with me. Are you gay, Steven?"

The collie jerked his head up sharply. Ha'iku's words from the previous night rang in his ears. He felt the urge to get up and bolt out the door; it took all his strength to keep him seated where he was. "Maybe I'm bi," he said.

"That's not what you told Ricky."

Steven stared.

"He told me," Tiny said softly. "We don't keep secrets much. And ya know somethin'? I finally have the chance to thank you for what you did."

"Thank me?"

"Ricky was hurtin' bad." The hyena sighed softly. "I couldn't really get him to talk about it. I kinda figured it out, but I didn't know what to do. But you did. You made a choice to help him. And yeah, help yerself too, I'm sure." Tiny chuckled. "He's good at it."

Steven blushed furiously, but still managed a smile. "No argument."

"You gave somethin' to him that he's never forgotten. I don't think he'd have gotten through that commencement speech if ya hadn't done what ya did. And Ricky was happy again because of you. So thank you, Steven."

"It seems sort of silly to say you're welcome."

"So maybe now you can tell me. Why do ya want me like that?"

Another long moment passed; Tiny managed to keep his patience, because Ricky had been a good teacher, and Steven was a good friend.

"Tiny, I don't know. When you held on to me after I woke out of that nightmare yesterday, it was like... hell, it was like my body was trying to make something happen in spite of me. And then every time you hugged me, or comforted me, it was like..." The collie sighed heavily. "It was like you loved me."

"I do, Steven. I love ya a lot."

Steven said nothing.

"Tell me what happened with Ha'iku last night. What did she say?"

"It wasn't what she said." Steven shook his head slowly. "She's beautiful, and last week, I'd probably have hoped that she had a nice quiet room somewhere that we could use to spend a nice long time... getting to know each other." He snorted ruefully. "She wasn't too shy about it. But I suddenly thought about you. And I got seriously confused. That's when all this crap sort of boiled over in me, and I... well, you know what happened."

Tiny considered. "What did you think about me?"

"I thought about holding you. Being with you. Loving you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you too. And because I feel safe with you."

The hyena nodded slowly and stood up. "C'mere," he said.

Steven stood, uncertain, looking Tiny in the eyes. Suddenly, Tiny picked up the collie in both arms and carried him over to the sofa, sitting down and keeping the slightly wriggling pup in his lap.

"Y'ain't goin' anywhere," Tiny smiled softly. "Just hold me. I got ya, Steven. Yer safe here. Just hold me."

Gradually, the collie began to relax, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position and leaning his head against Tiny's shoulder. In another minute, his chest hitched slightly, and long, silent tears began to flow down his furry cheek. Tiny rocked him in his arms, holding tightly as Steven clung to him in desperate need.

Minutes passed, as Steven began to relax completely, giving in to being cuddled and loved. Tiny murmured words from time to time, reassurance, comfort. The collie was so completely consumed in his sorrow that he didn't hear the front door open just beyond.

Ricky stood in the entryway, his startled expression almost enough to make Tiny want to chuckle. A mixture of emotions crossed the raccoon's face, finally settling on sympathy and vague understanding. Quietly, Ricky closed the door and imitated Tiny's mannerism of the day before - Anything I can do?

Tiny squeezed Steven's shoulders gently. "You okay?"

Steven wiped tears from his muzzle, tried to smile, and then saw Ricky. For a split second, his entire body jerked, terrified... but of what? The look on Ricky's face wasn't jealousy or anger; it was concern. It was a look that echoed the deep compassion in his eyes on that night, that single night...

Gathering himself, Steven said, "Your husband makes a wonderful pillow."

"That's one reason that I married him," Ricky smiled.

The collie reached out his hand. "Room for one more."

Ricky bounced over to the sofa and cuddled into Steven's side, holding him close. "Anything you want, pretty puppy."

"This is what I want," he said. He looked at Tiny. "How did you know?"

"Because yer straight, Steven." The hyena smiled. "But yer not stupid. That whole thing at the hospital, it ripped yer guts out. No wonder nothin' made sense. But ya got us. We love ya, just as always."

"And my need for reassurance kept trying to express itself through my cock."

"I always said you had an intelligent weenie," Ricky giggled. He paused, sobering slightly. "So you really don't want to hump my husband?"

"Quit tempting me!" Steven laughed as the other two joined in. He sighed. "Tiny's right. I'm straight. It doesn't mean that I don't find you two attractive. The truth is, though, this is what I really need. To feel safe, and protected, and loved."

"Shucks," Tiny exaggerated. "Missed my chance!"

"Not entirely." Steven grabbed the hyena by the back of his neck and planted a deep, burning kiss that lasted quite a while. When he pulled back, Steven was quite satisfied with the stupefied look on Tiny's face.

"Whoa," the coach said, bedazzled. "He's good!"

Ricky made little whimpering noises, pointing to his own muzzle. Steven obliged with another kiss that made Ricky's toes curl.

---

After dinner, and properly dressed to receive company, the three friends welcomed Dr. and Mrs. Biggs into the home. Ricky came to like Mrs. Biggs instantly, as she politely but thoroughly gushed about both the beautiful home and the magnificence of Tiny's help at the airport. The doctor made his acquaintance with Steven, and after some comfortable banter, he finally got down to business.

"Charles told me about your experience," Biggs said, settling himself into an armchair usually reserved for Tiny. "I'd like to know some more, but first let me offer my sympathies. As you know, I'm a doctor - so yes, I've been there. It's all but inevitable; it just hurts worse when you're still new to it. Now, tell me... I want to hear it from you first-hand."

Uncomfortably at first, Steven rewound the tale once more, providing some answers to specific questions posed by Biggs. After it was finished, the doctor nodded slowly. "It's easy to see a mistake in hindsight, isn't it?"

Steven lowered his head. "I should have known better."

"Why?"

"Because..."

The bear pounded the arm of his chair. "Dammit, son, why? Do you really think that a doctor knows everything, every time?"

The collie kept his voice low. "Someone died because of me."

"Got a surprise for you: No, he didn't."

All three friends stared at Biggs, open-mouthed. "What..." Stephen began, "how...?"

Mrs. Biggs smiled. "Raymond has privileges at St. Christopher's. He made some calls this afternoon. Your patient's name is Arthur Dean; he's recovering slowly from his surgery, but very much alive."

"No thanks to your Chief Resident," Biggs muttered. "What's his name, anyway?"

Steven was still so stunned that he had to think for a moment. "Sakorski."

Biggs jerked is head up. "Philip Sakorski? They made that little prick the ER Chief Resident?"

"Now dear," the lady bear admonished gently.

"Oh, let me tell the truth for a change, Ethel," he said. "We used to call him Suck-Ass-Ki. Never around when you needed him, always trying to kiss the right butts and kick everyone else's. Son," he said to Stephen, "if you're questioning your ability to be a doctor based on Philip Sakorski's judgment, you're giving him way too much credit. He's a quack, and he'll always be a quack, and saying that is probably a huge insult to ducks everywhere."

In spite of himself, Steven laughed. Tiny and Ricky followed suit, and soon even the Biggs' were indulging. "You know," Ricky said to the lady bear, "I really like this guy!"

Steven drew enough calm breath to steady himself. "I'm not sure I'm going to be on anyone's Happy List for a while," he said tiredly. "If nothing else, I've already missed a couple of days of classes. I'm AWOL, so to speak."

"Okay," Biggs agreed. "You might have to do some serious pedaling there, but if you're as smart as you seem, you can do it. The main thing is not to give up. You did all that you could, and yes, you made a mistake. If you think Suck-Ass-Ki never did, I can probably find you a few case files that say otherwise. I'm not one for blackmail, but by damn, if you need reinforcement, I'll find 'em for you."

The collie held up his hands, chuckling. "No, really - I'll take your word for it."

"Then it's just down to what you're gonna do. Are you going to believe in the opinion of a petty putz like Sakorski... or are you going to believe in yourself?"

On the spot, Steven didn't answer right away.

"I can help in one way," Biggs said. "I don't exactly have any pull at that hospital, or with the school. But I'm a doctor, and I can certify that you've been ill - overstressed, with physiological symptoms that demanded complete rest for a few days. They don't have to know that it was here in Paradise. Although truth to tell, I'd prescribe it any day of the week as a stress cure."

"Steven," said Tiny softly. "I still don't think I've got the guts to go for th' whole M.D. thing. I think you do."

"We know you do," Ricky said.

Mrs. Biggs smiled. "You've got good friends, Steven. I think they've got the right idea."

Steven smiled. "Outnumbered," he chuckled. He took in a huge breath and let it out forcefully. "Any waterskiing allowed in that prescription, doc?"

"That, and a return to the mainland by Sunday night, to pick up on your classes. I'll have that letter faxed to whatever teachers, supervisors, or quack Chief Resident that needs it!"

"Settled!" said Ricky, standing up. "Now - who wants coffee and fresh macadamia nut cookies?"

"Wiki wiki!"[6] said Biggs enthusiastically.

"Decaf for you!" Tiny ordered.

Steven was amazed at how well the doctor could produce a raspberry.

---

Thursday, November 13th, 2003, dawned softly at 6:41am local time. Steven Paris awoke to his 28th birthday feeling - at long last - calm and well-rested. At breakfast, Ricky and Tiny offered their many happy returns, and they discussed various places that Steven might want to visit on his own, until the working members of the household could return to celebrate the day properly.

Not far into the morning, Steven went to answer a knock at the sliding glass door of the lanai, where he found Ha'iku looking very shy and concerned, holding a lei of beautiful white blossoms.

"Hau'oli la hanau," she said quietly. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," Steven smiled. "They told you?"

The lady cat blushed softly. "I was hoping I could come to apologize."

Steven shook his head. "It was me. I was ... well, I was pretty freaked out. Not by you." He chuckled softly. "I'm not explaining very well."

"I was afraid that I was too forward."

"Ordinarily, I'd have been able to handle forward, or even fast-forward." He smiled. "I can tell you, if you want to hear about it."

Ha'iku smiled softly. "I can slow down enough to talk. Maybe even enough to listen."

"How about a walk on the beach?"

She draped the lei ceremoniously over his head, arranging the garland over his shoulders. "I'd be honored."

---

With Steven's permission, Ha'iku later related to her family what had happened to Steven on the mainland. That, combined with the news that it was his birthday, spurred Tiny and Ricky's neighbors to collaborate on as complete a luau as was ever imagined by Don Ho. By the time the coach and the astronomer had returned home, they were amazed at the activity in their back yard. Ha'iku, setting down a bowl of fruit on the make-shift buffet line, winked at them, saying, "Our turn!"

For an impromptu party, the repast of Tuesday night had been good. With slightly more preparation, Steven's birthday party was incredible. The neighbors had coordinated beautifully, with little duplication, and more than enough food and goodies to make everyone not merely happy but ecstatic. Some tiki lanterns were lit, people brought musical instruments of many kinds, and the birthday cake ... a single candle in its center, with the words, "Always a New Year in Happiness."

The Douglas family, from two doors down, had "gone native" right when they first arrived in Hawaii some years before. Their children had all learned local customs and graces, and the youngest of the five - a boy 8, a girl 11, and a boy 16 - had been taking lessons in hula dancing for some time. All wore real Raffia grass skirts, not plastic imitations, and all were quite talented. Ha'iku sat comfortably in Steven's lap, explaining the movements and the story being told. Not to be outdone, Ricky and Steven later harmonized on one of their favorite songs - a bawdy little number called "She'd a Dark and a Roving Eye."

The evening ended a little bit early, given that it was the middle of the week, but it ended quite happily all the way around. The guests dispersed with well wishes to all, discreetly overlooking that both Steven and Ha'iku seem to have vanished from sight. After seeing that everything was taken care of around the house, Tiny and Ricky indulged one last joke on their canine friend.

In the morning, Steven discovered the necktie looped over the knob on the door to his bedroom.

---

For the balance of the week, Steven regained his strength and enthusiasm in full measure. He proved to be as good a water-skier as he was a snow skier, and he found Ha'iku an excellent teacher. She was also a superlative "native guide," knowing the language well enough to convince the locals that the haole was a good guy. Tiny's football team won their home game with Steven, Ricky, and the Biggs' cheering from special seats on the fifty yard line, which of course required some more food-based celebration on that Saturday evening. Steven worried that he might get fat if he stayed too long; Ha'iku promised to help him exercise it off.

Because of the time difference, the flight back had to leave earlier on Sunday than any of them would have liked, but all made the best of it. Ricky invited Ha'iku to stay for breakfast that morning, teasing her that it was better than trying to sneak out before everyone was awake. Addresses, emails, phone numbers, all the necessary information was exchanged; neither she nor Steven knew what would happen, but both had come to believe in possibilities once again.

Airport security being what it is, Steven knew that it was simplest just to be dropped off at the building entrance. He set his bags down and accepted a long hug from Tiny, and another from Ricky. "It's been so good to have you here," the raccoon said, sniffing back an embryonic tear. "Let's be sure to do it again soon."

"Not for the same reasons," Steven chuckled, and gave Ricky a quick kiss. "Thank you for being there."

"Always here for ya, Steven." Tiny grinned at him. "Ya gonna need me to help you with your homework this week?"

"I'll call if I need you!" the collie affirmed. "I think I can get through it. At least now I know what to do if Sakorski tries to ride my tail about it."

"What's that?"

It was no surprise that Steven was able to produce a magnificent raspberry; he'd been taught by the best.

---

1 Thank you very much

2 porch or patio

3, assortment of local food favorites.

4 Hawaiian style beef jerky

[5] Means "kahili flower"

6 Quickly.