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_ Mason fan cover art by the multi-talented :iconAkeron-Valanx: Thank you, Valanx!_

Hello, dearies!

Welcome to The Hockey Hunk once again - it's Friday, and it's time for the new chapter, so here we go...the 123rd chapter overall, and the seventh chapter of the fourth season. In case anyone's interest, the date is still the 22nd of June, 2011, so thanks to the...gentle...pace of the storytelling *snuffle* we're slowly drawing further and further away from the happenings. Perhaps this distance will allow some great things to happen, storytelling-wise...or not. We shall see what happens. I think we've got some stories left to explore with Rory and his kind before we're done. Great news, eh? *chuckle*

Your feedback is appreciated as always - I'd especially love to hear from my lurkers - I'm missing you guys, so give me a holler! *chuckle* Always remember that comments, votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well. The front page counts, folks!

I think it's time to get to business, now, so, enjoy, and have a fun read!

*

"Click", the clock said as the minute paw moved over the big industrial number four, now close by to the stout but respectable hour hand that had already raced past the digit in question.

"Harrumph," Marge said, making my ears flick.

"...and please come again," my lips moved according to their own polite trajectories as I handed over the bulging red carrier back to the beaver I was serving on cash register number two, "and don't forget that we also serve at the Stepford Center!"

"Thanks a bunch!" the sleeveless T-shirt-wearing water-dweller replied ever so cheerfully and then headed out, big tail flapping about.

"Bye!" I called out.

"Hmm, well that's it, Rory" Marge rumbled as soon as the customer was out of hearing range, "You're going."

"Hmmm?" I vocalized curiously.

"Mason's twenty minutes late, and it's not fair to keep you in this much past the end of your shift, especially not now," she replied, her tail moving swiftly behind her. "I think you should go home."

Marge didn't sound very pleased with the state of things at the moment, and the sour note in her voice made me frown, too. It wasn't much like Marge to be pissed off like this, especially not on a friend, whom Mason obviously was, I supposed, and the experience was quite disheartening. I wouldn't want to be on the other end of that frown for sure.

"I really don't mind," I said, truthfully. Sure, I was wondering on the wolf's whereabouts as much as Marge was, but I was mostly concerned for the fallout of a possible Marge-Mason argument that seemed to be quite the distinct possibility now that the usually punctual wolf had failed his boss. "Keeps me away from just sitting around all day."

Even though it did give me the added trouble of having to think about the bizarre saga of Mason, me, and that bootylicious foreign boy with a killer body and dangerous knowledge about me and Victor.

And now I had dangerous information about him in return, so I guess that made us co-conspirators in a strange, very small and very personal morality drama of our own making.

What a mess. Peter was so going to get an earful of this tonight, I thought. Maybe it'd cheer him up.

"It's still unfair on everyone else," Marge replied with the same stern expression," he should've come in and relieved Alex twenty minutes ago. We're now officially running on skeleton crew."

I chuffed.

"It's still you and me and Crystal," I said, "we're managing well."

"But you're not supposed to be here," the cougar replied, her tail flapping about wildly so that it snapped against the counter and the table behind us that contained the gift-wrapping supplies. "You're working overtime because Mason didn't show up."

"I'm sure he's just running late," I mused. "I really don't mind."

"I didn't suggest that he's been run over by a bus," Marge replied. "And it's not really up to you, since you're not the one who has to reprimand him."

My ears jumped.

"Are you planning to be hard on him?" I asked.

Marge grabbed her right paw and cracked her knuckles.

"As hard as I have to," she replied, "and you better watch it, too, because I want to know that you'll know what you're doing when you'll become the shop manager..."

Now that made my eyes widen.

"Shop manager?" my voice rose curiously.

Marge let her paws fall to her sides and made a more languid spiral with her tail while she let out a purr and smiled a little, for my benefit.

"Well someone has to take over when..." she started, gave a quick look to both directions to make sure of the whereabouts of Crystal wandering about the shop, before she continued, "When I'm on leave."

Wow...now...well...technically I was the senior staff member after Marge, so...but...well, I hadn't even really given it much thought, not with everything that was going on, but still, she certainly managed to surprise me a bit! A promotion...whatever that meant, but it could mean a pay raise and some different duties...and different hours, too...

A whole lot of different.

I rubbed the back of my neck and smiled a bit.

"Of course," I said, "I just didn't..."

"I've already talked about it with old Mr. Albrecht, just that you know," Marge continued, "it's up to you, of course, but it'd really make the personnel issues much simpler."

"Sure!" I replied quickly, my ears flicking cheerfully, "I mean, of course, if you think I'm ready..."

"Of course you are," the cougar said with another purring chuckle. "And if you agree to do it, I can start training you at work as soon as you come back full-time. Get you into the business of handling acquisitions and the shift schedule. I know it's a lot to take in but if we start early, you'll be running the place before you know it!"

Well think about that...The Gliese Brothers...

That idea conjured up the image of me and Justin both serving customers behind this very counter, in our red shirts and stylishly tilted berets, and possibly speaking in spooky, robotic unison for no reason in particularl.

"WEL-COME-TO-THE-GLIE-SE-BRO-THERS-HOW-MAY- WE-HELP-YOU-TO-DAY?"

_ _

"Well, what can I say?" I smiled a little, and scratched my neck some more.

Marge flipped her tail against my ankles and snuffled.

"You'll say that you'll think about it, and get back to me once you've made the decision, of course," Marge replied. "There's still time, of course, but I want to get this settled as soon as possible."

"Sure," I replied with a nod, "I think so too."

"Give it some serious thought," Marge replied, sounding more serious now, "I know it's a lot but let's be honest, there aren't really many advancement options in this line of work, so it'd be something for you to do."

Didn't I know that all too well...

"Of course," I mused.

"You'll think about it?" Marge demanded.

"Sure," I smiled. "I'll get back to you."

Marge purred, grabbed my jaw, and planted a smooching kiss on my forehead. That made my ears jump, sure, especially since I felt the coolness of her nosepad against my fur, briefly, before the smacking action was done and she leaned back again.

"Thanks, studmuffin," my boss purred openly.

I almost blushed.

"Well, thank you," I said.

"...muuuusic and fashion will always be the passion at the booookstooooooooooooooore...."

_ _

My ears dropped at the musical equivalent of an air raid siren blasting off in the all too near distance, and soon enough the owner of the voice appeared, up the stairs and then to the main floor. Alex bounced along the aisle, not longer singing, but nonetheless busy as ever. My eyes bulged out a little at the sight of him, though, especially what he was wearing. The black Lab was clad in a tight Spandex T-shirt and definitely equally tight black Spandex biking shorts that must've practically snapped into place over his...hips...that's how tight the shiny fabric looked as the dog strutted along on his way. He had a backpack on and had slipped his thumbs under the straps to give a relaxed air to himself, and his tail wagged like some sort of a propeller behind his behind as he stopped by the counter and observed me and Marge.

Jesus Christ...I could see everything through that fabric...I didn't know where to look!

"Hello, Marge, hello Rory!" the Lab greeted us. "Has Mason really not come yet?"

He gave a quick look at the clock and clicked his tongue.

"Oh my, it's almost half past!" he declared. "I didn't realize I showered for that long!"

The whiff of wild herbs was indeed quite strong around him now, as I dared to take a sniff, while my eyes followed the flap-flap of his tail against the double globes of his extra tight ass. With that black fabric, it almost looked like he was naked.

"Still no Mason," Marge noted dryly. "But you go ahead. We'll manage."

Alex grinned.

"Well, I'm supposed to be doing the shopping now, but I think if I'll run, I'll make it on time to get the cooking started...I was thinking of frying some eggplants and making a broccoli gratin, it's my vegetarian day, you see."

I wondered if he was going to be stuffing the vegetables into those already well-stuffed pants, and chastised myself for thinking about any possible extra bulging that might cause. I was supposed to be thinking about a wholly different set of them, after all.

"Are you on a bike?" Marge questioned, obviously encouraged by the outrageous outfit the Lab wore to work.

Alex hopped up and down on his paws and landed smoothly on his neon-toned sneakers.

"No, I run," he said, nodding rapidly and making his ears flap about, "it's a nice little trip, and I don't have to take my bike like I do for the Stepford Center. I've had my bike stolen twice here in downtown and I don't want to go through that again."

"That's a shame," Marge snuffled. "But I'll see you tomorrow at nine, yes?"

"Aye, aye!" Alex saluted Marge and grinned some more. "Good day now, Marge, and good day to you too, Rory! Don't you forget that we're all here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on. Keep it up!"

Marge and I uttered a few "byes" which Alex received with gracious ear flicks, after which he seemed to kick off some speed from the red shop floor carpet, and then he was going for the door, and soon out of sight but likely not about to become assimilated into the after-work crowds now flocking the pavement.

"You know..." Marge opened.

"Hmmm?" I rumbled, still kinda staring at the door.

"If you don't take over, young Mr. Albrecht might ask Alex."

My tail trembled at the thought.

"You evil temptress," I hissed at Marge from the corner of my muzzle, "Your powers of persuasion are extraordinary."

Marge blew an air kiss in my direction.

"I learned from the best during my time in Quantico," Marge rolled her shoulders menacingly, which had the added effect of creating a chest wobble as well, much to my eyes' amusement.

I flicked my ears suspiciously.

"Sorry, I only know Guantanamo," I said.

Marge's heavy tail flapped against mine and sent it flicking about as well. The cougarette was giving me a look now.

"Awww, it's no fun when my punchlines fall short," she pouted. "I can't believe you didn't get it."

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Quantico...you know...FBI..." Marge drawled, "Clarice Starling...Silence of the Lambs..."

"Aaaaaaaahh right," I made a victorious face. "The obstacle course at the foreboding forest..."

"There we go!" the cougar enthused. "I was worried for a moment."

I chuckled.

"So are you planning to go quid pro quo on Mason when he shows up?" I proposed.

Marge rubbed her chin.

"Possibly," she replied sternly, "and if that fails, there's always that old well in the basement..."

"With Alex dancing around it while lip-synching menacingly, perhaps?" I questioned.

Marge snickered in true feline fashion and treated me to a real storm of giggles and shoulder-patting. The image was as ludicrous as it was dangerous to think about it, too, and I hoped that Marge would keep these good spirits up for now.

Bling-bling!

A moose stepped into the shop, and we decided to stop our small talk to that and prepare to give the newcomer the best service possible.

"Hello, welcome to the Albrecht Brothers!" Marge cheered. "How can I - "

Her voice faltered as she saw the shape of a wolf, wearing a hoodie and with his paws stuffed in his pockets and with earphones around his neck, slipping into the shop in the wake of the much more sizeable moose currently occupying our attention. My ears jumped with surprise as I saw Mason for the first time in a while now, and really for the first time with...everything in my mind.

"...help you?" Marge's voice rose and her smile broadened as she tried to captivate the moose.

"Just looking," the antlered male rumbled and carried on his way without stopping, which meant that Mason lost his living camouflage of sorts, and was soon left to stand there, near the magazine section, bushy tail flicking about behind him as he was suddenly stared at by both Marge and me, respectively.

The wolf looked guilty as charged.

"Uhmm...hi!" Mason rumbled as he stepped closer, a bit tentatively, I suspected, under our possibly disapproving gaze.

"Hello, Mason," Marge spoke sharply.

I simply nodded my hello and waited for it with a baited breath.

Mason stopped about a yard away from the counter and looked at us, his eyes a bit downcast, and his ears half-flat, and his paws didn't leave his pockets.

"I'm...uh...really sorry," the wolf rumbled, staring at his footpaws, "things were running late at the university and I missed the bus."

"Not in front of the customers, Mason" Marge replied, "we can talk about it after hours, since you're closing with me today."

The wolf's ears flicked a little.

"Yeah," Mason mumbled, sounding guilty.

"Go change now," Marge said in a more normal voice, "and you too, Rory, you can leave now that we're back to full number. Mason, you should help Rory get down the stairs and help him change if he needs to."

The wolf's tail definitely jumped, and he gave me a quick look. Our eyes met, and I felt a familiar jolt of nerves in my stomach. We were on strange ground now, I thought and felt, strange, new ground I wasn't familiar with, and I wasn't sure how to react to things properly, or whether there were any real ways to do it to begin with.

"Okay," Mason rumbled.

Marge snuffled, and then looked at me.

"I'm so glad you could come, Rory," she said. "Give me a call when you're ready to come back for good and we'll see things through, right?"

"Yeah, sure," I smiled.

"Off you go then," Marge declared, "I've got a customer coming in too..."

I spotted the approaching Bordercollie and decided that it would be best to try to slip away quietly and not to a make scene here, since that danger was present for now, with a pissed-off Marge and a guilty Mason, and hence I quickly grabbed by crutches and rounded the counter to meet my escort. I nodded in greeting once I was at a polite distance, and then we headed down along the aisle, while Marge began to cheerfully serve the canine by the counter.

I'd never felt this awkward with him, walking shoulder to shoulder with the wolf by me, wondering what he was thinking in that shaggy-furred head of his. The silence stretched out even as we scaled the steps down to the second-paw section, which was mostly deserted for now, and then his voice rumbled into my ear.

"Is she really badly pissed off?" Mason asked me huskily.

His breath tickled against my whiskers and made them itch, and it probably felt a bit warmer than it was supposed to, as we walked by the surprise book boxes and closed in on the basement door.

"A little bit," I replied carefully, "But I'm sure she'll be willing to hear you out."

"Oh man..." Mason rumbled.

"Could you open the door, please?" I said quickly, both for the practical need, and to make him busy.

"Sorry, dude," Mason mumbled as he stepped past me and pulled the heavy door open.

"Thank you," I smiled as I entered the coolness of the back room.

The stairs offered their usual challenge, and I was a bit breathless by the time we reached the bottom, but part of it was the effect of the rising nervousness, too, considering that we'd be soon heading into the locker room...as we did even now, walking past the shelves and boxes, and there...most certainly, I'd have to bring up the bag, and...well.... make sure that I wouldn't blow things up, somehow. The last I wanted to do was to make Mason feel awkward or uncomfortable with himself...or me...or anything.

"Let me," the wolf said as he hurried to open the door on his own accord.

"Thanks," I rumbled.

The door opened with a creak and admitted us into the locker room, which smelled strongly of Alex's shampoo, incidentally, and made my nosepad wrinkle.

"Uhm...Rory?"

I froze.

"Yeah?" I asked, glimpsing the wolf over my shoulder.

"Did you...did you have to stay overtime?" he said. "I know Marge said you'd be here until four..."

"She didn't ask me to," I replied. "I stayed because I wanted to. Alex and Crystal were here too so we were doing alright."

"I'm still sorry, Rory," the wolf mumbled.

I stepped over to my locker, took a deep breath, and began to scroll the combination in.

"You don't have to apologize to me," I said, "Marge is the boss."

"Yeah," the wolf rumbled. "Damn..."

"It'll be fine," I breathed. "The worst she can do is to dock your pay for the half an hour."

"Uhm...yeah, I guess..."

I finished with the lock and swung the door open, which also had the effect of exposing the poorly hidden bag on the bottom of the locker. I could hear that Mason was fiddling with him own locker on the other side of the room, and knew that this was my chance.

I took a deep breath.

"Mason," I said.

"Huh?"

I turned about and saw that the wolf had stopped what he was doing and now looked in my direction. I grabbed the bag and pulled it out of the locker.

"Is this yours?"

*

Thank you for reading!

I hope you had a nice read, and that you feel like indulging me with a few of your comments! Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well.

See you on Monday!

Cheerio!