FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Winter and Pamila

"Say my name, bitch."

Usually when coming in to work, Pamila has the resolve and the demeanor of an army general. Her face is almost always taut with anger. Her body is nearly always rigid with anticipation. She wears combat-type clothes to the normally formal meetings. Whenever the fox comes into the office, the atmosphere turns serious. Even the boys, who are boisterous and flippant by nature, settle down and pay attention, both to her and their marks. Simply by being present and looking the way she does, Pamila helps make things run, even if most things do not turn out her way.

Today is a different story. Since she started serving her punishment, there has been no pressure to go to work. There has not really even been a need to show up. She clearly hates the janitorial work she has been given, so she could half-ass her work if she wanted to. Because she does not have to appear in front of everybody, she does not have to act defensive all the time. What happened to her the day before was a fluke; her male coworkers were not supposed to have been there, in the same room. For all intents and purposes, the incident that followed doesn't look like it has had a negative effect on her.

Sure enough, when she arrives at Rapid Recovery, there are only two other cars in the parking lot. Pretty much everybody has gone home. There is no sign of Hoeness' car, or of the VW Bug that Benny and Boris share. There is no sign of the chief's car either. After she parks, Pamila leaves her car slowly and looks around carefully. After a couple of what looks like searching, she smiles briefly. She can see movement through the blinds in the lobby, but it doesn't seem to be too much of a bother. The fox brashly walks forward and enters.

The door was unlocked and open, not a good thing since the business as a whole is closed for the day. Pamila's eyes widen in surprise. The carpet has been vacuumed. The chairs have been stacked to one side of the room, showing off the tracks that the vacuum cleaner has left. The windows and blinds are clean. The television is also spotless. The lobby looks so clean and spacious, Pamila need not worry about doing anything here. Her smile returns, bigger than ever.

She steps forward, admiring the effort that it must have taken to make the room look this good. She backs up suddenly, noticing that she has just stepped on the vacuum cord. Up ahead, a door closes and the vacuum cleaner is activated. The loud sound drowns out the fox's laugh. The cord stretches all the way to the hallway, where it disappears into the darkness. She stands in front of the hall with her arms folded. She forces her smile away and brings back her patented frown. It looks like she is trying to scare or surprise Tobias.

A couple of minutes later, the vacuum cleaner is turned off and silence returns to the room. The cord is starting to slacken, meaning that the janitor is about to return to the lobby. Pamila nods with anticipation. "I guess I should thank you, young man. You've made this day easier on me." She says it as sternly as she can, but cannot help showing a little smile. Suddenly, a big, thudding sound explodes from the hallway, as if something heavy had just been dropped. Pamila laughs quietly. "Hey, take it easy, butterfingers. I don't wanna have to clean up your messes too." She waits as the janitor steps forward into the light.

It is not Tobias, but St. Croix, the grey wolf, who lumbers from the hallway with his mouth wide open. He scans the fox and shakes his head. "Holy hell. Where'd you come from?"

"Church-boy! Long time no see!" She closes in on him and pats his shoulder. "Looking good, pal."

"Thanks." He reenters the hall to retrieve the vacuum cleaner. "Thanks for the compliment. And don't worry about the lobby. That part's been taken care of."

"Obviously." She puts her hands in the pockets of her black jeans. "So what happened to you? Have you been on a mission?"

"Just got back in L.A. last night." St. Croix reappears, rolling the vacuum in front of him. "It was a long flight back from the Pacific Northwest."

"Let me guess. Seattle?"

"Vancouver."

"Well done. I've never travelled out of the state for a hunt. I'll bet the pay is enormous."

"I don't know yet. The mark was worth five figures, but when I saw Simon to get my pay, he said there would be a cut. I don't know by how much, though."

"A pay cut? How come?"

St. Croix chuckles and shakes his head. "It's a long story. You'd be bored by it. Help me put the chairs back, will ya?" He puts the appliance aside so that they could arrange the lobby back to its regular form. It is quick work and everything is back to normal in about five minutes.

"You look really good," Pamila says. "Your session with the shrink must have been enlightening."

"My session?"

"Yeah. It's what you always do, isn't it? You usually see Miranda at the psych room after a kill. 'Cuz you always look so guilty after you get paid."

St. Croix shakes his head and laughs. "Nah, not this time. I traveled a long way to get this mark and it was worth every second of the stay in coach. I had plenty of time to mull over what I did. I took the entire trip to psych myself for the journey, and after I did the job, I felt vindicated. So really, I'm fine with it."

"Oh, okay. I'm glad. I knew you still had some killer in you. It's been such a long time since I last saw you return from a mission, I was beginning to think you liked being an overpaid secretary for Mrs. Cross."

"Hey, I'm more than a secretary. I also help with the finances. But I still hunt, and I pay attention at the meetings. It's just not my number one job right now."

"You're a goody-two-shoes. You may hunt every once in a while, but I think that after a hunt, you feel so bad that you have to make it up to yourself by doing something clean, like greeting customers at the front desk. You, sir, should be ruthless, like me."

"Ha. No thanks. I don't want to be punished with a janitorial job."

"Yeah? Well, looking at what you've done, I'd say you're a natural. So, what happened? Did Tobias beg for help?"

"Tobias is not here right now. He's in traffic, so he'll be a little late coming in. I decided to make it easy on him. When he gets here, he won't have to stay too long."

"Yeah...." Pamila shrugs and starts walking away from the grey wolf. "I guess I'd better get started in the chief's office then."

"You know, this is the first time I've seen you actually accept your fate. You're usually a little more apprehensive than that. But today, you're starting to relax. Maybe you're getting used to it?"

"I haven't accepted anything. I still don't like cleaning house. It's just that...yesterday was a bit rough. I was cleaning the toilet stalls in the women's restroom when Pica and Dunn, and some of Hoeness' butt buddies came in. They started to poke fun. Things got physical."

"Oh, that's not good. Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about it. I was really angry when I came in yesterday. They saw that. I think that gave them an excuse to continue prodding. About an hour ago, I went to the nearest gym and took out my frustrations against some barbells and a punching bag. So I'm not as angry today. From now on, I won't look like I'm ready for a fight before I get here. That way, if Hoeness or those other peons see me and start to talk shit, I won't be too quick to respond. It's just as well they're not here right now."

"Nope. Those guys don't usually show up on Thursday nights. Friday is their day. They like to get paid on the same day and spend their money together on drinks and strippers...whatever. Simon is here though. He's got money for me and I'll take it as soon as it's ready. Winter called about thirty minutes ago. She's coming to get paid too. Have you met her yet? If you want, I can introduce you two."

Pamila rolls her eyes on hearing the news. "I'll see you later, church-boy. I gotta get to work."

"If you need help, let me know. I'll be here until Tobias arrives."

"Help, huh? There's no possible way you can clean the restrooms for me, is there?"

"What am I? Your servant?"

"I figured as much." She slowly makes her way through the hall and right to Vivian Cross' office. Reaching into her pockets, she takes out a ring with five keys attached. She carefully looks the keys over until she finds the one that opens the door. Turning the light on exposes an already clean office. The fox shrugs confusedly; it looks like nothing really needs to be done. She enters slowly and looks around.

The floor looks shiny enough. The cabinets look like they have been wiped down. The desk is neat and tidy. Pamila strokes the laptop computer as she passes by the desk and heads straight for the liquor cabinet at the far end of the room. She looks behind her to see if she is being watched, then puts her hands behind her back as she leans into the glass case.

Kneeling down, she takes a close look at the smaller bottles at the bottom of the cabinet. The bottles are clear and the drinks inside glisten in the fluorescent light. The glint teases the eager fox. She slowly rises from her knees and licks her lips. In her mind, the cabinet is already open and she is partaking in one of those appetizing beverages. When she gets to the middle section of the case, she spots the biggest prize available.

The bottle of scotch looks about as expensive as it is. The crimson-tinted drink stares right back at the vixen, causing her to pant instead of breathe normally. It seems as if the bottle is daring her to break in and take a drink. She presses her nose on the glass and exhales. Her breath creates a small patch of fog on the door. She wipes it off with her left index finger and stands up straight. "Later," she says as she exits the room.

The vacuum cleaner starts up again, startling Pamila slightly. It serves as a noisy reminder of what she is there to do, and she slowly nods her understanding. It takes her more than a minute to walk to the women's restroom. She is in no hurry to clean anything despite not having any immediate competition today. Besides the wolf in the lobby and the executive in the conference room, there is nobody else inside the building at the moment. Still, the fox slowly pushes open the restroom door when she gets there.

The vacuum cleaner shuts off and St. Croix calls out to her. "If you're cleaning either of the restrooms, I've put all the usual cleaning supplies on the locker room bench. The mop is in the men's restroom, where it's always been."

Pamila nods again and makes her way to the locker room, putting her hands in her back pockets and taking her sweet time moving forward. As it is, she would rather be back in the chief's office, admiring the unreachable bottle of scotch; she shows off her intentions by licking her mouth slowly. Her feet amble toward her duties and it takes her five minutes to procure the necessary supplies.

As before, she cleans the sinks, the large mirror, and the toilets in the stalls. There are no interruptions, no challengers, no recriminations, and no embarrassing outbursts. The fox takes care of business in less than fifteen minutes, with a pace that is easy-going but fast enough to get her out of there quickly. Her work is thorough; she wipes everything twice. When she is done with that, she goes back to the locker room and grabs the mop and bucket. After taking a quick glance at the liquor cabinet through the opened door of Vivian's office, she goes back to the ladies' room and gives the floor a good cleaning. For someone who had hardly ever handled a mop before, she is just as meticulous with this job as with wiping the mirror.

Ten minutes later, with the bucket of dirty water in tow, she lazily escapes the cold, sterile room. She closes her eyes and yawns, taking in a couple of loud, deep breaths. Under her breathing, there seems to be a conversation going on behind her; there is definitely a voice in the lobby that does not sound like St. Croix. Pamila closes her mouth quickly and listens carefully. Sure enough, she can hear the front door close and a female voice greet the gray fox. She frowns once she figures out who he is talking to.

"It's good to see you again. How's Shiloh? Is he still burning the midnight oil?"

"He just refuses to slow down. It's like he's getting revenge on the rest of the world because he had to take three weeks off to teach me to kill like he does."

"Have the lessons paid off?"

"Guess why I'm smiling."

There is silence for a few seconds as St. Croix presumably tries to take a guess. The fox continues to listen intently, as if interested in the answer herself.

"You got your first official kill, didn't you?"

"Yes! Just two hours ago! Isn't that great?!"

"Good for you."

"He was a low-level criminal who skipped out on his parole hearing. After learning about him from the stats that Simon gave me, I knew I had a shot to get to him before the bounty hunters did."

"And now, you're ready for the money. How much are you getting?"

Winter laughs loudly, causing the fox to sneer. She decides that she has heard enough and takes the bucket into the men's room. While transferring the rest of the cleaning supplies, she has to put up with St. Croix and Winter fawning all over each other. This is the first time in a long time the pair had seen one another and the white wolf is really giddy, too much for Pamila's liking. Her chest puffs up and she looks like she is ready for a fight.

Suddenly, Winter's voice gets closer to the hallway. She is about to see Simon in the conference room for her payment. Pamila quickly looks behind her and urgently runs past the restrooms and into the chief's office. Once Winter steps close enough to see the VIVIAN CROSS door, it is closed. Believing she is alone, she knocks on the conference room door. "Good evening, Simon. I finally made it."

It is not like Pamila to hide from a rival, but that is pretty much how the situation looks. She has her right ear pressed against the door, listening to Winter and Simon talk just a few feet away from her. A low growl emerges from her mouth as she carefully opens the door. She allows herself a small opening, wide enough to see the white wolf follow Simon in to the adjacent room. Incensed, she pushes the door completely open and tries to calm herself down. She immediately turns back toward the liquor cabinet and returns to look at the enticing display of drinks just beyond her reach.

The fox crouches low enough so that the bottle of scotch is within eye level. She fogs up the glass with her breath and draws a heart that frames the label of the bottle inside. "How much would you set me back? If I gave the chief a thousand dollars, do you think she'd part with you?" Her voice is soft and sultry. Her anger at Winter is replaced with a slight grin. After staring for a minute, she again breathes on the glass and draws another heart; this one surrounds the entire bottle. "You're mine," she whispers. "I don't quite know how, but sooner or later, you're...." She stops and gasps, making the face of someone who has just been caught. For some reason, her eyes close and her smile disappears. She stands herself straight and puts her hands in her pockets. The mood has been lost. "I thought I told you to never sneak up on me."

"Who's sneaking? I'm not sneaking. I just came in." Tobias enters slowly, wiping his forehead with the back of his right hand. His gray, cotton shirt is soaked with sweat and his face is showing tinges of red. He is breathing heavily, as if he ran a long way to get indoors. "Did you just get here?"

The fox turns back to the cabinet. "I've been here at least half an hour, doing the job you're supposed to be doing. Frankly, I don't know how you could stand doing work like this. It's not something I'm even remotely getting used to. That said, the ladies' room is so damned clean, you could eat in there. You're welcome."

"Have you cleaned in here too?"

"It doesn't need cleaning. There's nothing wrong with our esteemed chief's office."

"Don't you remember what I've said? If you clean constantly, no stains will materialize."

"Ugh. Whatever."

"I clean Mrs. Cross' room every time I come here, even on days when she doesn't show up for work."

"You like kissing ass that much?"

"Call it what you want. I don't take any chances." Tobias starts to settle down. His breathing slows as he pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket and wipes his face. "Sorry. My car's air conditioning has stopped working. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually glad I'm in this building." He stops wiping his face and looks at her nervously. Every time they look at each other, she always has a stare that makes him want to immediately leave her alone. This time though, he makes himself step forward. "So...what are you looking at?"

"Never mind." She turns to leave. On her way out, she stops in front of the kid and scans him with her angry eyes. She scoffs at him, either at his appearance or at the thought of working under him. "You look like hell," she says, "but at least you're not as pasty." She bumps her shoulder into his as she passes.

"Hey, listen, I saw a group of the men gathered around the ladies' room yesterday. I heard you yelling at them. I tried to see what was going on, but they wouldn't let me in."

Pamila stops herself and turns around to look at him once again. Her mouth quickly opens, but nothing comes out. She sighs and looks at her feet.

"What's wrong? Were they bothering you?"

"What do you care? What if they were?" She looks up at him, not as angry now, but her voice still carries. "What would you have done about it?"

"I..." He sees Pamila turn away from him and hesitates. He clasps his hands together and takes a step back. His anxiety is returning. "I don't think I know."

"That's right! You don't know!" Her nostrils start to flare and her hands ball up. She looks like she wants to yell at him, and he is certainly expecting it. Instead, she heads for the door. "Look kid, forget about it, okay? It's my problem. I'm mad at them, not at you. What they did wasn't meant for your eyes, or anybody's really. They must have waited for the chief to leave, and then they ambushed me. They wouldn't have done so if they knew they'd be watched. They tried to make me look small." She raises her head and smiles. "Good thing I'm an evil bitch, huh? Otherwise I wouldn't have the mental strength to come back here today."

Tobias backs even further away. He has seen that smile before. "Wait a second, you're not gonna try to get revenge, are you? Are you planning something?"

The fox starts to walk away. "I told you, don't worry about it. I'll make sure you're not implicated. I'm just gonna do what I have to do. They put their hands on me; I'm gonna make sure it never happens again." She faces him with a look that shows resolve. "Don't look at me like I'm wrong, okay? You weren't there. You don't know what they did and you don't know how nasty those sons of bitches can be. They did what they wanted, now I'm gonna do the same."

"Actually, I do know. I've been...picked on since I was given the job...by everyone, except the wolves. Shiloh's nice to me because his mate is nice to me. St. Croix is...nice to pretty much everyone. Everyone else ignores me, until the chief and the rest of the bosses are gone. Then they make fun of me. There's been nothing physical yet, but it got worse when I started teaching Mariana how to...." Tobias covers his mouth with his hands. "Oops! I'm sorry. I forgot...she didn't want anyone to know."

Pamila sighs loudly, trying very hard not to sympathize with the boy, and thus moves back to keep herself distant and angry. "I didn't know. Frankly, I don't really care to know. You're just a kid. There's nothing they'll do to you that's even remotely close to anything they'll try to do to me. Just forget about it. I'm done with the women's restroom. Where do you want me now?"

Tobias shakes his head. "Are you sure you don't need any help? Maybe I should tell Mrs. Cross. She prefers the company of the female workers, so if I told her, she might protect you from the others."

"Look, I don't want her help and I don't want you to tell her anything. I've already told you...it's not your problem. Just tell me what to do next."

"Well, St. Croix told me he'd clean the lobby, and I'm cleaning the men's room, so I guess that leaves the offices. You can clean the conference room."

"Sure, but I'm not gonna do it now. Simon's in there. I'll just wait for him to leave and--"

"No, that's the best time to clean that room. I always try to clean it when the executives are in there, so they can see me and pass on any good words to Mrs. Cross. You should do it now while Mr. Blank is in there. It won't hurt to impress him."

"I said no. I'll just...clean one of the other offices. You can go kiss up to Simon if you want." With that, she leaves the chief's office and heads for the locker room to retrieve a bottle of cleaning fluid and roll of paper towels. She then passes the conference room; her sharp ears catch Simon and Winter talking to each other. The wolf is summarizing her successful chase and trying to negotiate a bigger sum of money. Pamila heads for the nearest room--the psychiatrist's room, where Miranda works. Hoping to work quietly so the pair nearby cannot hear her, she slowly opens the 'psych room' door.

Satisfied with the lack attention, she quietly sneaks into the office. It is the largest of the four offices in the building, larger than even the chief's room. There are no windows anywhere; it helps to keep the room isolated and private. There is a large, oak table in the middle, surrounded by lots of odds and ends. To Pamila's right is a large shelf of books; it looks like the small section of a library. Next to it are smaller shelves with larger books, encyclopedias, and board games. The fox moves closer to the table, inspecting the chairs nearby. There are four chairs facing the large table. Those are where the patients sit. Behind the table is another chair, the one Miranda sits in.

Pamila observes the table carefully. She puts the cleaning supplies on it and rubs it gently with her hand. It looks clean enough; it is virtually spotless. It is clear of the usual papers and stationery and is shining underneath the fluorescent lights. She glides her hand across it, but stops when she sees a strange object on it. It is the only thing on the table. It looks like a large, bushy strand of rope. Confused, Pamila grabs it and shakes it gently. The item flows seamlessly in her hands and waves smoothly on the table. She chuckles quietly, then gasps. Her eyes widen and she lowers her face to get a good look at it. After sniffing it suspiciously, she grimaces and drops the item. Now angry, she grabs the bottle of cleaning fluid and sprays the liquid on the object.

Mieri screams and stands; her tail violently slides off the table. She heaves and looks around with panicked fervor, stopping only after getting a quick look at the angry fox. Pamila shrugs nonchalantly and simply wipes the area of the table where she sprayed. "Good evening."

Mieri takes a moment to relax. Her breathing eases and she tries to smile. Her eyes look heavy and it is clear that she had been sleeping. "Huh. We meet again."

"It's late. Shouldn't you be home?"

"I...um, yeah." The red panda chuckles; the fox rolls her eyes in response. "I came here at five, shortly after the office closed, and I was hoping Miranda was still here. I've got...issues. I've never scheduled a session with her before, and I was kinda short with her the last time we saw each other. I just--"

"Enjoy your nap?"

"Well...the chair was just so soft and...." Mieri chuckles again.

"Don't care. Get out so I can clean."

"Um...you don't have to. St. Croix came here already and vacuumed. He did that and I helped him clean the table. You don't have to do anything."

Pamila nods. "Fine then. I'll be going."

"Hey, wait. Could I, maybe, talk to you instead? I mean, since you're here and everything, and you're in as much distress as I am, I thought that...." She stops talking when she sees the fox's expression sour.

"Do I look like that horse's ass Maltese?" Pamila heads for the door.

"Aw, come on."

"No, stop. Go talk to her if you want to talk to someone. I'm done with you two...and Zesty too." Grabbing the cleaner and paper towel, she closes the door behind her before Mieri could get one more word in. On her way back to the locker room, the door to the conference room opens. Winter exits, saying "Thank you," to Simon and leafing through the pile of hundred-dollar bills she has just been given. Her happy laugh echoes in the hallway and she stuffs the cash in her back pocket.

The fox and the wolf catch sight of each other almost immediately. The coincidental meeting causes silent tension as Winter's face changes from glad to mad in seemingly record time. It perfectly matches Pamila's dour mood. The wolf is quite surprised at seeing her again this soon after their last meeting, but tries to brush it off. "Hello," she says. It is a simple, even friendly greeting, spoken in her usual, carefree demeanor. But she does not wait for an answer and quickly marches herself to the ladies' room across the hall.

Pamila watches her every step of the way, until the door closes. She closes her eyes and lets out an angry yawn. It has been a long evening and she most likely feels like going home. She hears the sound of a door swinging and opens her eyes to see Tobias leave Vivian Cross' office. He is headed for the men's room, where he will soon start his chores.

She stands in place for a couple of minutes. (It's hard to say what is on her mind. In fact, her behavior today has been too nice, not normal for her at all. She usually eats into Tobias and had just as much reason to do so today. She also doesn't usually smile at St. Croix either. Maybe she's changing for the better?) She seems to be deep in thought and hardly moves from her spot. Her eyes pace back and forth between the two restroom doors. Her mouth curls into a soft smile.

Tobias sticks his head out the men's restroom door. "Hey, Pamila, do you have the window cleaner?"

The fox looks at her hands and sighs incredulously. She had forgotten that she was holding it. "I'm coming." She runs over to the boy and hands him what he needs. For some reason, she does so willingly, as if she is eager for more orders from him. Tobias hardly notices and starts to spray the mirror.

"Say, Tobias, could I borrow that bucket for a moment?"

The large, white bucket, half filled with used water, is right at the boy's feet. He looks at it confusedly and picks it up. "Aren't you done with it?"

"The ladies' room is still messed up in some areas. Just hand it over. I'll dispose of the water too."

He shrugs and gives it away. "Don't take too long. I'd like to go home before eight."

"Your wish is my command." After saying that possibly sarcastic remark, she carries the bucket from the men's to the ladies' room, wasting little time. She announces, "I'm coming in," and pushes the door open. In front of her now are the newly cleaned sinks, mirror, and stalls. Everything in here showcases the fruits of the fox's hard work. She inhales deeply, taking in the smell of the cleaning fluid. The mop she had used is leaning against the stall closest to the door. She carries the bucket over to it and puts it down. All of the stalls are opened and unoccupied, except one. The fox walks slowly to it, but does not get too close. She clears her throat to announce her presence. "So, Winter, was it?"

The question is followed by a long pause. No response is heard for a while. It seems as if the wolf is processing the question. Pamila patiently folds her arms and waits for an utterance, staring at the door of the stall like it was a sentient being. Winter is on the other side; her soft breaths are audible.

"That's a nice name," the fox says, waiting again for a response. "I like it 'cuz it's really ambiguous; it could fit a boy or a girl. I like those kinds of names. In fact, if I could choose a name for myself, that would probably be it."

"Are you talking to me?"

"Heh. Finally, she speaks." She puts her hands on her hips and taps her right foot on the ground. "I'm sorry. Is this too compromising a position for you?"

Winter gently clears her throat. It sounds like the fox's presence has her unnerved. "A little bit, yeah."

"Oh, so you're the shy type, huh? I'm not myself. I was once part of a huge clique of vixens in high school and...well, we thought nothing of interrupting one another when we were taking a piss, so I'm used to it."

"What do you want?"

Winter's stern tone makes Pamila laugh. "Whoa, settle down. I'm just mopping the floor."

"It doesn't sound like you are."

"Well, I'm pretty much finished in here anyway. I just...missed a spot." Pamila grabs the wet mop and simply drags it across the floor for a few seconds. "Please, don't let my new job interrupt your business."

The wolf again clears her throat nervously. "Um...you do good work."

The fox angrily spits in the bucket and utters an ironic "Thanks." She stands the mop against the wall behind her. "I pride myself in my work. You wouldn't believe it, but we don't seem to be as clean as our male counterparts. I've seen ladies rooms at night that could make your fur stand on end. It's kinda hard to use a public toilet if you're having trouble deciding where to place your tail...especially if you're hammered."

"Listen, could you possibly...wait 'til I've finished?" The wolf's voice sounds shaky and hesitant.

"Well, sorry. It's just that I've been thinking a lot, about a lot of things. Our last encounter didn't turn out so well. I don't know if you remember that." She pauses again, waiting for an answer. Her face shows a quiet confidence; she knows that if she wanted to, she could easily take advantage of the wolf. It looks like the tables have turned since they last met. "I took away a great deal from your warning and I thought--"

"It was just friendly advice, that's all."

Pamila chuckles mirthlessly. "Right, right. 'Stay away from The Shark Pit.' Friendly advice. Whatever you say. Anyway, after that happened, and after cleaning up the mess you made, I thought about it and...I've decided that I should try to get on your good side. After all, you're our newest hire and we'll be working together...kinda, sorta. How do you like the job, by the way?"

"Um...it's really good. I like it." Winter clearly sounds like she does not want this conversation, or else she would say that she clearly loves her work.

"That's good. I like it too. I've been doing this for a year and a half. The money's great, no doubt, you get to take in many sights that you would normally ignore, and the people are...very interesting. You, in particular, are very interesting."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"Well...you're a white wolf. Your kind is very hard to spot in Southern California where it's sunny all the time. Your kind is more prevalent in places like Montana or Alaska. You look quite strong, for a female, and you're the tallest woman I've ever met who wasn't my mother. There's plenty about you that stands out."

Suddenly, Winter bursts out laughing. As she tries to collect herself, her shyness seems to have disappeared for the moment. "Shiloh's mother lives in Alaska."

"That's good to hear. Anyway, like I was saying, I think it would pay dividends not to have you as a rival. If I got to know you better, maybe we would find something we have in common."

"That'd be nice." The wolf still sounds hesitant to continue, but she is easing into the dialogue. "So...what? You want us to be friends?"

Pamila rolls her eyes. "I didn't say that. I mean, being friends with someone while doing this job takes a real huge commitment. I'm just saying that it wouldn't pay to have you as a rival. I've got enough of those. Pretty much all the guys who work here give me enough problems to last me a lifetime."

"All of them?"

"Almost all. St. Croix never does."

"Nah. He's nice. So...how do you handle it all?"

"They don't want me in the same room with them, let alone working with them. I handle it by forcing my way in through the door and playing for keeps. I take days off, but knowing that my presence pisses most of them off keeps me going."

Despite her place in the room, despite the person she is talking to, it now sounds like Winter is having a normal conversation with a friend. The nervousness and the awkward pauses have gone, and both are communicating like consenting equals. "You know, I could learn a lot from you. You've been working here for a long time, so you could tell me whom to avoid and whom I could possibly trade with."

"Whom?" Pamila shakes her head and walks closer to the closed stall. "Anyway, you can trade marks with anyone you want. You just need to be persistent. Don't give up until every avenue is exhausted. As for avoiding people, if you want someone to avoid, I'd recommend a tall, dark-haired, bushy-tailed, mealy-mouthed son of a bitch named Hoeness. He's a German Shepherd. You'll know him when you see him. He walks very straight, like he's got a stick up his ass, and he talks like one of the executives. He likes to be prim and proper and he dresses up for every meeting. Makes me sick just thinking about it."

"We've met already. Calling him a son of a bitch doesn't work on him. I don't think he likes me very much."

"He doesn't like any of the girls who work here, except a couple of those that he feels he has a chance in bed with, like my friend Camille. Fat chance."

"It's not him I'm worried about. On the day I finished my apprenticeship, I was confronted by...." Winter clicks her tongue. "I've forgotten their names. One of them was a tan fox who accused me of--"

"That's Dunn." Pamila angrily spits in the bucket. "His name is Dunn, which means the other one's the bobcat, Pica. They're never apart. They hunt together, even though it's not allowed, they collect their pay together, they go everywhere together. They're so tight, they could finish each other's sentences."

"Mr. Crevecoeur told me that they were lovers."

"They are that." Pamila smiles and moves even closer to the closed stall. "I always give them a hard time with that. They probably hate me more than Hoeness does, especially Pica. He's such a femme...." She hears Winter laughing and decides to wait. The fox herself is one good joke away from laughing too, even though she really has no camaraderie with the wolf. "You're quite privileged. You know that, right?"

Winter scoffs. "I am?"

"Well, you've got the good looks, the big, badass boyfriend, and an instant reputation that the rest of the girls, myself included, could use. You obviously come to the meetings with immediate advantages. The males must be jealous of you, even those who don't like you."

"Well thanks, I guess, but I don't want to take advantage of anyone, and I don't want to be near anyone who doesn't want me near them. I won't be stepped on, but I don't want to fight anybody."

Pamila picks up the bucket. "Hey, you don't mind, do you? I know I'd be encroaching your personal space, but I must dispose of this dirty water and I don't want to use the sink." She pulls open the door of the stall to the left of where Winter is sitting. "I won't be a moment."

Winter exhales loudly and her anxiety seems to return. "Just hurry."

Still carrying the bucket, Pamila puts her left foot on the toilet seat. "Say, listen, this isn't really the place to complain about work. If you still feel like comparing battle scars, what do you say we...get a drink together sometime?"

"Um...."

"Don't worry. It won't be at The Shark Pit. I'll take us somewhere a bit more secluded, where none of the patrons know me as much. I think you'll like it. After all, you like to drink, I like to unwind with a drink...we might actually be quite compatible."

"That would be nice, but the guys at The Shark Pit allow me to bring my own food. I love pigeon eggs, especially in my gin, or in a gin and tonic."

"I'm sure we can work out a compromise. Hey, why don't we have one tonight? Right now even, while the temperature outside is agreeable."

Behind the door, Winter is most likely smiling from ear to ear. "I'd like that, but I gotta tell you, I don't drive. I took the subway from home and walked the last half-mile here. That means you'd have to drive me if we're going far."

"No problem. None at all." Still holding the bucket, Pamila quietly places her free hand on the top of the stall partition and props herself up. She is now standing on the toilet seat.

Winter chuckles. "Thanks a lot. You know, when I first saw you, I was with Shiloh and I was holding onto him like I was lost. I remember the look on your face; you wanted nothing to do with me. Then I started getting that look from some of the guys. I'm normally slow to trust people. There's a good reason for that. But the more I get used to this place, the more I like. And you know what? I just finished my first hunt. My last one failed, but this one was closer, so it was much easier. It was exhilarating, to say the least, but I could always use some words of advice from someone who's been around. My prospects have brightened and I think this is gonna be a great year...."

While the wolf continues to talk, Pamila slowly props the heavy bucket above the stall. She does so quietly, making sure that Winter's long speech never breaks stride. She waits a few seconds, then tips the bucket over and dumps the contents. There was no way the fox could see exactly where Winter was sitting, but her pitch was perfect. The dirty water lands right on the wolf's head and splashes liberally around her. The short downpour forces its way into her fur and her clothes. The aftermath sticks into her and makes it practically impossible for her to continue relieving herself.

Almost immediately, Winter screams in horror. It's a shrill scream, as if she has just been gravely wounded. (She's throwing her head backward. Goddamn, that's a lot of teeth!)

Holding on to the bucket, the fox continues to stand precariously on the toilet seat and lets out a soothing breath from her nose. Her eyes close. She looks like she is meditating. When Winter's screams turn in to shorter, loud, angry breaths, the fox opens her eyes and nods assuredly, as if she knows what is about to happen. "For your information, it doesn't matter how many rivals I have in the end. If I have to, I'll fight you all." She jumps off the toilet seat. "Come on. Say my name, bitch. I know you want to."

Winter shrieks, "Pamila! You bitch!"

"There you go. Enjoy the drink." The fox exits the stall. With her right index finger, she swings the bucket around by its handle. It looks like she is about to take a victory lap. As she starts to leave, she hears the wolf sputter and stammer, trying desperately to gather herself. The victim is fumbling with her clothes and growling heavily. "I hope that's not directed at me," Pamila says. She suddenly stops as she is about to head out the door. Without hesitation, she turns around and returns to the stalls.

Winter is trying to stand; the wet floor squeaks beneath her feet. The water flows from her stall and quickly spreads all over the tiled floor. "What the fuck did you just do to me?!"

Stepping on the dirty water, Pamila tries to open Winter's stall. She pulls twice, but the door is still locked, so she returns to the stall that she had just left and stands on the toilet once again. "Hey! How about a chaser?!"

The fox throws the bucket at the wolf. It thuds on her head and she falls back on the toilet. Pamila jumps off again and heads out the door. As she enters the hall, she laughs quietly to herself. Her smile is so big, it could fool anyone into thinking that there was nothing at all wrong. It certainly fools St. Croix. His is the first face she sees as she enters the lobby.

"So, you're done for the day?"

"You know it."

Her smile causes him to chuckle. "You don't look like you're a novice at cleaning offices. As a matter of fact, you're handling it with professionalism. I'm impressed."

Pamila looks behind her for a few seconds before returning to the gray wolf's gaze. "Say, listen, I'm tired, so I'm gonna take off. Tell Tobias not to get pissed or anything like that, okay?"

"Sure. Consider it done."

"Tell him also that I don't think Mrs. Cross will be pleased with my performance. The woman's restroom was just...absolutely filthy."

St. Croix stops smiling. "Oh no. Well, that's horrible. The room's used by the customers too. It's gotta be cleaned."

Pamila shrugs. "What can I say? It can't be helped. I tried my best. Maybe he can do better. Tell him I'll gladly relinquish my fifty dollars today if he does." She playfully rubs St. Croix's head. "Got to go."

The wolf watches her quickly prance out of the building and into her car. He watches until she is out of site, then makes a quick beeline to the ladies' restroom door. There, he meets Tobias, who has finished his work with the opposing restroom.

Their eyes meet as they stand in front of the door with the unmistakable "female" design on it. Tobias silently nods at St. Croix. Before the wolf can respond in kind, he hears a strange noise coming from the other side of the door. Confused, he leans his face toward it, then presses his right ear against it. His face scrunches with confusion as he looks at Tobias. The boy shrugs obliviously. "What's the matter?"

"Don't you hear that?"

"Hear what? You're the wolf; you have the better hearing. What's it sound like?"

St. Croix stares at the door for what seems like ages. "Is there someone in there?!" He slowly pushes the door open. The sound he hears, heavy panting, can now also be heard by the human. Without a second thought, he rushes in to the room. Seconds later, he bolts out and closes the door behind him. "Wow." He looks around frantically while trying to remain calm.

Tobias takes an inquisitive look at the wolf and realizes that something bad has just happened. Anticipating a long night, he steps forward. "Do I even want to know why you're making that face?"

St. Croix puts his hands on the human's shoulders. "Do not go in there. I'll clean up."