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It's Not All About The Knot

Text Message from: Ashley

"That's it, Sean, we're done. I've moved my things out."

Sean blinked and stared at his cell phone, his heart doing an abrupt flip-flop in his breast before plunging somewhere into the void of his stomach. With shaking hands he gripped the phone, ignoring the work piling up at his desk, to compose a response.

Text Message to: Ashley

"What? Moved out? Ash, what are you talking about?" He tapped the send button after several shaky-handed corrections.

Text message failed; Number not in Service.

Blinking, Sean attempted the message three more times, always with the same failed execution. Giving that up he tried to call, only to get a flat recorded message that the number he was attempting to dial was not accepting incoming calls. Sean set his phone down and ran his fingers through his hair, blinking back the pain in his eyes and the crushing weight in his breast.

She broke up - by text! - two days before Christmas? He could not believe it; he refused to believe it! Snatching up his office phone he picked up and outside line and tried her cell phone again.

"That number is not in service." The emotionless drone of the telephone company robot informed him, over and over again while his heart shrank another few sizes.

He tried her home phone, but that was his home phone, so all he got was his own voice mail box. He hung up in growing terror and just sat there, staring at the text message on his phone.

Why?

Why would she do this? They seldom argued, they were having no issues with their relationship. Sean made more than enough money as a creative assistant in his marketing firm. Around him those efforts continued apace, wholly ignorant of his sudden horrified expression. There were no cubicle walls on the office floor so anyone could see him, could see the crushed look of blank agony etched on his face. His computer trilled quietly; incoming message.

"Sean? You okay?" He blinked at the message, not really seeing it for several seconds. The sender's name was Taws but he could not figure out who Taws was for several long heartbeats that hammered against his ribcage. He felt as if he were dying, his heart giving up its last efforts from the hollow depths of his breast. "Sean?" another message scrolled up beneath the first.

Reaching out for the keyboard he held his hands over it for several seconds before laboriously typing. Everything was blurry and his eyes burned, breathing was a chore.

"I'm okay." He managed to type haltingly.

"You look like hell!" Taws replied. Sean raised his eyes and scanned the office, trying to put names to the many forms that milled around. Humans, like him, predominated but there were others as well; equines for the larger part, a few canine types and even a couple of felines. He scrubbed his blurry eyes with both hands and tried to focus. Taws, a name he knew but could not bring to his blank mind.

Christmas! She broke up with him, on Christmas!

"Sean?" his computer trilled with another message. Still scanning the office pool Sean spied a face looking back at him from the far side of the room; a collie. Gold and orange and tan, a vague form a hundred feet away looked at him with uplifted ears. Taws, the collie, that was her; the frowsy lady with flyaway fur and clothes always in desperate need of an iron. They had worked together on a few projects, but Sean never really gave her much regard in the past. He couldn't even remember her last name. She was smart, and creative, with a warm laugh, but she was a dog so, beyond work, he never thought twice about her.

"I'm okay." He sent again, taking a deep breath and choking down the sudden urge to break down in tears. Ashley, Ashley, why? Why, after three years! You were the one for me! She was young, she was comely, smart, with a seductive laugh and bright blue eyes.

"Someone die?" Taws prompted again from across the office floor.

"No." He stared at the word for long moments, heaving a breath. "Ashley just broke up with me."

"By text??!"

"Y."

"Oh, Sean, I'm so sorry to hear that! Right before Christmas, too?!!"

He felt his eyes tearing up anew and scrubbed them furiously, angry at himself for his weakness. Instead, he took it out on the keyboard, furiously stabbing "Y."

"Why? You tried to call her?"

"Y. Her number discon."

"Jeeze!" The blank letters blinked unwinkingly on his screen. "You argue, have a fight?"

He found himself shaking his head, thoughts confused. "No, almost never. She never let on."

There was a pause and Sean could see her staring across the office at him, her narrow collie jaw unslung in shock, before she replied. "Let's do lunch, Sean. Talk, okay?"

Sean let out a grumbling sigh as he dropped his head, the momentary heat of his anger turning to a sour self-loathing. "K." was the best he could do as a response to the concerned collie. Dropping his head the rest of the way into his hands he forgot about the office, forgot about his work, staring at the blotter on his desk without seeing it. It was the last day at the office before the holidays, there was relatively little work for him to do. After a few damp stains darkened the blotter he scrubbed his eyes again and irritably snatched at a concept sheet to proof.

Time slipped away and he dove into the creative process, letting himself slip into a zombie-like autopilot as he scanned concept sheets, stamping approvals or dismissals with a furious thump of his proofing stamp. He offered no comments as he usually would, stamping and filing them to the out box to let the artists figure out.

"Sean?" a gentle, tenor growl eventually worked its way through his zombie motions of pull, stamp, file. He blinked and glanced up at the form standing across his desk. A wrinkled red dress salted with shed fur, gold and orange and tan poking from cuffs and a dense ruff of snow white puffing from the neckline of her wrinkled shirt collar in ungroomed abandon met his unfocused stare when he raised his eyes. Upward his gaze traveled blankly, taking in the long, slender muzzle and reading glasses perched awkwardly upon it. Behind them golden eyes regarded him with concern. "Lunch?"

Picking up another concept sheet he drew it out of the review box but stopped when she leaned forward and laid black-clawed fingertips upon his arm. "Sean, it's time for lunch." She growled again softly. He glanced at the sheet for a moment before dropping the stamp onto it with a sigh. Ink stained the side of his hand from the pad. Slowly he pushed his chair back and stood up, leaving his coat and poisonous phone behind.

The food court was in full holiday swing when they stepped out of the elevator. Their office party had been held there a week before; Ashley had been with him. He had not noted her general silence, then, but it struck him now with a weighty blow. She was a social butterfly; he should have picked up on her aloof separation from his co-workers. How had he failed to notice?

Taws lead him to a table somewhat removed from the central chaos near the back wall before wandering away to grab them some food. Sean simply sat there, slumped, as much a zombie as he had been behind the desk, poring over his interaction with Ashley over the past weeks and months. Only now did he sense the slow but subtle distancing, the perfunctory nature of their lovemaking and how little there had been of it. He had attributed the drop in their intimacy to the chaotic nature of the season but, thinking back to last Christmas, he noted the dramatic difference.

When had she decided that he was not the man for her? Had she found someone else and strung him along only long enough to establish herself elsewhere? Reaching to his breast pocket he grabbed for his phone but it was not there. Panic blossomed briefly before he remembered that it was sitting in its cradle beside his desktop monitor.

A plate came to rest in front of him; sliced honey ham and vegetables. Normally he enjoyed the savory flavors that the well-appointed cafeteria had to offer but today it smelled like so much ash. Taws sat down opposite him with her own plate. "Hey, Sean, come back to us now, okay? You look like someone shot your best friend." said Taws as she peered at him, a gentle but concerned smile on her long, slim muzzle.

"Yeah," he mumbled, poking at the ham on his plate while her attempt at a bad joke flew completely over his head. Taws reached over and gave his forearm a consoling squeeze and he looked at her hand. It was not uncommon to see humans and non at lunch together, but public displays of any affection were somewhat frowned upon. Humans didn't associate with their animal counterparts that way. "Sorry, Taws." He sighed.

"It's okay, Sean, I know how you're feeling." Stabbing a slice of ham with her plastic fork she nibbled delicately upon it, pearl white predatory teeth gleaming in the stark cafeteria light. "Bruce walked out on me three months ago, without even a text. I came home one day and he was just gone."

"Ouch." Sean winced, "I didn't know."

"No one at the office does; no one asked." She paused a moment, then shrugged. "Well, my team lead at the time knows, but hasn't said anything about it to me or anyone else. I doubt he cared."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He suddenly felt even more morose than he had previously, here she was consoling him and he had never even noticed her own separation. Incongruously the collie merely smiled back at him, teeth gleaming while she nibbled another piece of ham.

"Yeah, I was pretty down for weeks. You will be too, Sean, bet on it. But hey, we can commiserate. No one likes the nice ones, only the easy or the brutal, it seems." She shrugged and bent to cutting her ham into small bits. "So, what does that do to your holiday plans, now?"

"Huh?" he blinked across at her, caught off guard by her strangely light sense of humor considering his situation. Why, he wondered, should she give two shits about how he planned to spend the holidays without Ashley, much less his plans - profound as they were expected to be - when she had been around. He snorted and scowled at his uneaten food. "Blows them all to fucking hell." He hissed, feeling a moment of pure fury at the situation, but it passed quickly in the hollowness of his breast. "I had reservations at Faveur du Roi for Christmas Eve, but that's fucked off, now." He sighed, laying down his fork and pushing his plate away, his stomach all ashes.

"Ouch. LocalTrade it, then. I was considering doing that myself. I have reservations at Louis' that I made a few months back before... Bruce. I was thinking of giving them away, but it was always my favorite place even before him and I want something luxurious to cheer myself." She set down her utensils also, looking across at him. He couldn't help notice her deep golden eyes and perked up ears. The fur on her head was so long and dense it passed rather well in an approximation of hair; flyaway and only haphazardly brushed. The ears that poked above were triangular and adorned with short fur on the forward edges and much longer along the back. In the right circumstances her expression would have been comical, but Sean was not seeing any humor anywhere. "Maybe we can go instead?"

"Louis'? You need reservations at a steakhouse? I made mine more than a year ago, I doubt I can find someone who wants it on forty-eight hours' notice."

Taws gave a short yip-like laugh and turned back to her food. Her whiskers held the smile that her lips didn't, something Sean missed completely. "Faveur is pretty high end, but I bet you can find someone who will jump at the chance, Sean. So, Louis'?"

Sean looked up from his regard of his own impotent hands and shrugged, "Yeah, sure, Taws. A couple of unwanted singles out on the town and all that, eh?"

Taws flashed him that toothy canine grin and nodded, "Unwanted, unloved, but not alone, okay? Not on Christmas." She stood and leaned down to give his arm a squeeze again before picking up her empty plate. Fleetingly, he realized that he still had yet to do more than poke his around on the plate. He had eaten none of it. His eyes fell to the long sweep of her lush tail as she wove through the tables to the trash. He never much gave a lot of consideration to the furry types, but that tail was beautiful in its way, like a pet's. It was in sorry need of grooming, though, he noted.

The rest of the day went like every other day, with a strong undercurrent of gleeful expectancy for the holiday. The partners came over the public address three hours early and announced that the office was shutting down, immediately, and no one would be allowed to work late. Unfinished work, which Sean had only half finished though he could not even remember most of it, was to be left as it lay. The one upside was that his LocalTrade auction, made for 24 hours, was rapidly ticking up bids. It had already far surpassed his three hundred dollar lock-in fee. Picking up his coat he shrugged into it and glanced down at his phone. He considered leaving it right there for a few minutes, but Ashley was not the only one with his number.

For one, he realized, Taws had it. They had worked together on enough projects to have needed to share numbers. As he walked toward the elevator bank with the general press and looked around. Not seeing the collie he quickly composed a text.

"What time?"

The response came within seconds; "Seven."

"C U There."

"With bells on!"

"Oh, now wouldn't that be a sight," he muttered with a shake of his head. The idea of being seen in public with a dog jingling like a sleigh horse made him groan, but the idea of it struck him as oddly funny. Feeling at least a small bit better Sean made his way home, sitting quietly on the various public transports he needed to take with less weight on his heart. At least he would not be completely alone, but Taws was a strange cookie. They had never talked outside of work or about anything else but work, it struck him as very strange to have been adopted by her frowsy good cheer on such a low day.

His home in the suburbs was empty, painfully bereft of the small things that Ashley had done to make his house feel more like a home. Now it felt like nothing more than a box, oppressively close. Any cheer that had been buoyed by Taws and her company was quickly drowned by a feeling of heavy gloominess. He shucked his work clothes, stuffing them in the hamper that now contained only his clothes. No more bright swatches of lace panties or bras. He wandered away, not sparing a glance toward his empty bed.

It would be cold.

Taking his time to shower thoroughly under almost scalding water he tried to wash away the pains of his dreadful day, shaving slowly and choosing his best 'steak house' appropriate attire. The suit he had intended to wear to Faveur hung in its dry cleaning bag untouched, never worn but impeccably tailored. Two grand; pissed away, just like the nine grand he had spent on the ring that was hidden in the back of his sock drawer.

Her ring, it would have been; now just a useless hunk of platinum and chocolate diamonds.

Sean stood before the front door in the dark and, for a long passage of time, just stared out the window at the cheerful Christmas display in front of the house across the street. He thought about just giving up, calling Taws and telling her the whole thing was off, retreating into the darkness, and trying to drown his sorrows in the two bottles of champagne he had bought, or the dusty bottle of whiskey on top of the refrigerator. But he also realized that giving up like that would let Ashley win... whatever battle she had decided to engage in against him. He felt sure that she would not be slumping in some new home in the dark drowning her sorrows.

Fuck you, Ashley. I'm going to do something other than sit in the dark and drink until I'm too drunk to move. There was no note on the refrigerator or under the phone to explain her unexpected and drastic departure. There was nothing; just a house empty of everything. Even the gifts bearing her name remained under the tree. But not those that had borne his; not that there had ever been many. Ashley had never been the Christmas type.

Walking through the house he shut off every light, turning the bright Christmas cheer into absolute darkness before leaving. The drive to Louis' was a lengthy one, as he lived in the 'burbs, but at least he didn't have to fight to find a parking spot. Leaving his keys with a valet he wandered through the milling crowd. Within the steakhouse it was pandemonium; Christmas music blaring loud enough to feel as well as hear, with a raucous crowd singing along.

The harried seating attendant gave him an impatient glance when he slipped to the front and just stood there, at a loss. He could not remember the collie's last name! "Ah, I'm ... looking for a collie?" He asked diffidently, though at almost a yell to be heard over the blaring music. "She had reservations."

The striped feline's whiskers twitched in irritation but she nodded, scooping up a menu without a word and leading him through the seating area. Waiters aplenty wove among tables, laughing and conversing with their patrons while the smell of cooking meat filled the air. The attendant led him through the main room, down a short hallway, to the rear of the restaurant where seating was less dense and there were no blaring speakers belting out non-denominational carols. The roar was almost immediately muted by the hallway, further so when the cat ducked through a heavy Christmas themed curtain and into the glassed in seating area of the back deck. During the summer it was open, but now heavily frosted glass held back the cold and snow piled up on the roof panels.

He spied Taws as they approached and blinked, jaw hanging open in surprise. Gone was the frowsy dowager look she put on at work and in its place was a striking form of immaculately groomed fur adorned by a deep burgundy silk dress that hugged her form just enough to reveal just how lithe she was under the shapeless, wrinkled mess of her work clothes. The orange and tan, white and gold positively shone in a way he had never seen before. A snowy pile of it puffed from the deeply v-cut front of her gown. Golden eyes gleamed merrily when she looked up and saw him approaching.

"Wow, Taws." Sean exclaimed as he slid into his seat, obvious in his slow up and down appraisal of her dramatic change, "Just... you look stunning." He meant that, because she was so dramatically different that it was like meeting a stranger.

The collie's teeth gleamed as she laughed, "I don't want too much attention at work, so I dress down." She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze in greetings, "You would be surprised how much effort I put into that." Much to his surprise, she did indeed have bells on, as well. His eyes caught the golden gleam dangling from her ears that jingled, ever so softly, whenever her ears moved. Another jingle, deeper hinting at a larger bell, came from somewhere behind her chair. The bells were just enough to be festive without being kitschy.

"Seeing you now, yeah, I can imagine!" He picked up his menu and scanned it quickly, selecting an appetizer and a drink. Taws had a coffee and cocktail already. Their waiter was a stocky male badger with a quick smile and bright brown eyes. Sean gave his order and the badger bowed out. "I haven't been here often, I never knew it was this popular!"

"That's because they take walk-ins up front, but reservations are taken for seating back here. And most of the patrons are nonhumans of the meat heavy bent. I think only a churrascaria has more meat on the menu." When Sean's drink arrived, nothing more complex than a stout beer, she raised her cocktail. "To a better year, and happiness for the holidays." Sean snorted at the 'happiness' interjection but said nothing.

They clicked glasses and drank, Sean watching how she lifted the cocktail and actually lapped delicately at it with the tip of her tongue rather than tipping it all the way back as a human might. Considering her long, slender muzzle that would likely only result in a spill. When taken up that close the peculiarities of her physiology were intriguing, just as they were with any of the nonhumans sitting around them enjoying a meal. He'd never thought twice about them; they were moving objects in his world that he seldom considered any more than the person sitting across from him on the bus. He lived in a human centric bubble of careless neglect; he did not even have any nonhuman friends, only co-workers and passing acquaintances.

They chatted over a broad range of topics over their dinner, steering away from any talk of work, or their lamented late relationships. Sometimes that left awkward silences, but those were few and thankfully brief. Sean was surprised that they had so many similarities, and differences. Taws' humor was very different, coming from an entirely nonhuman viewpoint, but she enjoyed much the same as he when it came to music, reading, and entertainment.

One hour became two, and then four, but neither was acutely aware of the passage of time. Their waiter, likewise, was in no apparent hurry to rush them out. They continued to order and he continued to provide; their meal becoming dessert and then just various random snacks from the appetizer menu. Sean rather liked her taste in food, though the continued high fat, high meat menu began to weigh on him. They both loved seafood, calamari in particular, and nibbled their way through several plates of the lightly cooked mollusk.

"I saw Mehan's Run at the cinema, actually." Taws was saying over the rim of her cup as the badger drifted by again, announcing that it was after eleven and they would be closing down to make ready for the Christmas Eve rush.

"I missed it, myself." Sean admitted, finishing off his beer with a slow sip and setting the mug down. "Meant to catch it, but ... would've seen it alone." He almost said 'Ashley didn't like blood and guts dramas with sad endings' but caught himself in mid-sentence.

Taws took the tab with a toothy smile to their server, "I got the high-def last week, haven't even opened it yet." Slipping her card into the folder she handed it back. Sean pulled out his wallet and rifled through it, somewhat surprised at himself to find only a handful of hundred dollar bills. What had made him think he'd pay at Faveur du Roi with cash? Flamboyance? Showing off? Snatching out a single C-note he slipped it under his empty mug. Taws' ears pricked up curiously at his largesse but he only smiled back and shrugged, and stood up.

Then abruptly sat back down as the world canted crazily and a sudden rush of dizziness exploded behind his eyes. Holy shit, how many beers had he gone through, he wondered, blinking at his mug.

"Five." Taws pointed out laconically with a toothy smile as if she had read her mind. She extended her hand and Sean found himself staring at the open palm, tracing the black pads, pale fur, and stout but neatly manicured claws stupidly. "Keys."

"Oh." He fished out the valet ticket and deposited it in her hand, the blunt tips of her claws brushing his palm when she closed her hand. "You didn't drive?"

She shook her head and signed off on the tab, "Caught a black cab, since it's not far. I have a condo in Sunspear." That was a high-end condominium tower in the center of downtown. Black cabs were generally just a step below a limousine and immaculately clean, which considering her fine dress would have been a must. Holding out her empty hand she helped him up, "So, how about we catch Mehan's Run?"

Sean swayed a bit but found his legs soon enough. He was far from shitfaced drunk, but certainly did not trust himself to try anything more complex than walking. Driving was right out. "Your place, then?"

Taws laughed at his swaying amble as they made their way through the now sparsely occupied main room and out the front door. The parking lot was largely empty so and it thankfully didn't take the valet long to return with his car. Taws helped him lever himself into the passenger seat and he muttered at not finding his seat belt over his left shoulder where it should be. While he sought the passenger side belt on his right side Taws leaned into the drivers' side, tinkered with the seat for a moment, then carefully slipped into the car tail first to slip that vulnerable appendage completely through the back of the drivers' seat! Sean had never even noticed that there was a factory installed pass-through for tails; the need for it had never once crossed his mind. He felt like a complete idiot; a drunk idiot. Further, a drunk idiot who had just had the love of his life stomp all over his heart and leave him spending the night over his cups with a dog.

Yeah, he felt wonderful.

Taws' condo was on one of the higher floors of Sunspear offering a spectacular view of the city beyond on two sides. Sean did not even want to contemplate how much she had paid for it. She even had a sizable balcony that looked like a small ornamental forest covered in fine white snow. As white as New York snow could ever be, at any rate. Sean surveyed the warmly appointed condo, noting the complete lack of holiday decoration, while she went through turning on lights. "Bathroom is on the right!" she called back from the rear of the condo. Sean had dire need to empty himself and made a quick trip.

When he came back out he found her dressed in a flannel button up shirt and sweatpants, once more looking the part of the frowsy office assistant though better groomed and without glasses. She smiled up at him from the couch and patted it for him to join her. While he sank down into the opposite end of the couch, propping himself comfortably into the corner, she manipulated the remote. Lights dimmed and the huge TV flickered to life. They stretched out and the movie began, Taws on one end of the long, deep couch and Sean at the other, but comfortable in each other's company.

Mehan's Run was definitely not the movie he should have been watching twelve hours after the woman he had dedicated more than three years of his life up and walked out without anything more than a single text. It was a tear jerker from the get-go; a ten minute buildup of tragedy and loss that segued haltingly into brutal action. Sean's mind spun over the last six months as hint after clue built up behind his mind's eye, all of them pointing toward the inexorable end that would come. His throat grew thick but he refused to let it show, swallowing and trying to breathe shallowly so Taws would not detect his sudden melancholy.

Lost in his memories and the slow buildup of the movie he did not notice Taws get up and leave, but when she returned he could not help but notice. She sank down onto the couch next to him and leaned against his side, resting her long muzzle on his shoulder and slipping an arm around his own. The collie's thick fur softened her body against him and an ear brushed his cheek. A scent; sweetly subtle with hints of citrus and vanilla, tickled his nose, along with the dry scent of clean fur. Likely her shampoo, he figured, but neither scent was unpleasant. He rested his chin lightly between her ears and let out a shuddering sigh, reaching around with his arm and drawing her a little closer. His fingers found some fur at her hip where her shirt had pulled up and he idly stroked it.

He never had pets as a kid, so the feel of fur was a rare sensation. He liked the soft, dense silkiness of her pelt and she snuggled closer at the feel of his light, leisurely petting. He found his thoughts drifting, not really focusing on the action and tragedy playing out on the big flat screen in front of him. Much of it was about Ashley, and questions trying to find out where he went wrong. Taws was a comfortable presence against his side, her soft fur and warm scent quieting the distress of his mental wanderings. After a while he felt himself beginning to nod, eyes drifting closed. His fingers worked across the collie's side, burying themselves in the deep, lush fur of her waist and back while one of her ears, now sans the golden bell, brushed against his nose and lip.

"Mmmh, Sean?" With a start he opened his eyes, but only a little. He just wanted to sleep, exhaustion weighing on him like a blanket. "Movie's over. Let's go to bed." The room was dark, the TV shut off. Only the dim lights from the city outside allowed him to see at all. With a nod he tried to lift his legs up onto the couch but the indistinct shadow of Taws just chuffed at him softly. "This way, you drunk." She chuckled and hauled on his forearm. Slowly he levered himself upright and fell in behind that shadow, feeling the brush of her tail back and forth across the front of his jeans. At some point he half awoke to find himself on something flat and soft; a bed. Muzzily he stretched out onto it dimly aware that he was not alone.

Ashley had left him, it was the night before Christmas Eve, but he was not alone, and that comforted him.

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