Chapter 51

Storm-Front

"I had no idea Gwen was a well heeled Easterner!" Kel said as we drove to work.

"It's not something she likes to talk about, her mother seems to thing she's some kind of 'brood mare' to foist off on some aristocratic fellow 'blue-blood' to keep the bloodlines 'pure.'" I said with a note of disgust in my voice. "Her family line is Harcourt-Smyth. Gwen is heiress to _both_the Harcourt Shipping, _and_the Smyth Spice and pharmaceutical empires. Her mother has been trying to arrange a 'merger' with some fop from the Emersons, some of the wealthiest Mustelids in _old moneyed_Boston."

"Wow. How does Gwen feel about all of this, or need I ask?"

"Gwen of course is having nothing_to do with it. Her late father advised his daughter to '_git while the getting was good,' so she headed west. Did some modeling to spite her mother, then she went into Web design. She and Kacy hooked up, she introduced us and the rest, as they say, was history..." I said, _very_pleased with myself.

"Daamn, so she's some East Coast heiress...I never would have guessed. She seems so down to earth, ya know? Not one to put on airs at all." Kel said thoughtfully.

"It was her grandmother on her _father's_side who taught her the craft, and from what she's told me, he seemed like a decent enough fur who felt his daughter should be free to do anything she set her mind to do--I like to think he would have been pleased with how her life's turning out." I said as I pulled into the parking lot of Open Season and eased into my preferred parking spot.

When we walked in, the place exploded in applause. A banner across the bar read,

{' _ CONGRATULATIONS! RICK & MIKE'} _

"What_Is_This?" I raised my voice to be heard above the din. The ringing of the bar bell quieted the crowd. Max made his announcements as Mike and I were led to the stage.

"Well, since we couldn't have a bachelor party for ether of you, and since both of you are going to be fathers, think of this as a welcome to the ranks of fatherhood party!" Max called out to Mike and I. Cassy joined us on stage briefly to the hooting and shouts of the crowd. Mike stepped up to Panda Phil, taking the mic and turning to address the assembled furs...

"This is my WIFE, Cassandra Ferretti!" he announced, placing a paw on her belly. "The mother of my kids to BE!" The applause was deafening as Mike rubbed Cassy's belly. He gave her a playful swat on the backside as she was led off stage. I shot a look at Kel to see how she was handling all of this. She had a serene smile on her muzzle. '_ Thank you, Woo Fang.' _

I took the mic next.

"...And I am pleased to announce, that my beloved soul-mate Gwen has just received confirmation from the doctor today, that she is officially under construction!" Panda Phil reclaimed his microphone and asked anyone with experience to share it with two expectant fathers--advice from those who've been there.

Max Badger was first in line. The two day shift bartenders, Greg and Dave stayed on to cover for Mike and I as we were being roasted on stage in this impromptu gathering. Apparently Max has set this up on Sunday, calling up most of the prominent business furs whom he knew to have families. Sort of an initiation into fatherhood for, as Max put it, the two _former_confirmed bachelors. Kel and Cassy were having a blast watching Mike and I squirm up on stage. At about nine o'clock we were granted a reprieve, and were allowed to return to our places behind the bar, where Max joined us.

"Sorry_about that guys, but I _had_to do _something, ya know?" the badger grinned, chuckling. "Congratulations Rick--that's great news; I wanted to warn you two that Kath is planning a baby shower to end all baby showers, for your wives...just wanted to give you guys the heads-up." Max gave us both a knowing wink then headed back to his office.

Meanwhile, in the parlor of the Harcourt-Smyth Mansion, two skunks sat, one the matronly Esmeralda Harcourt-Smyth. The other, a well-dressed male in his late twenties, Izod shirt, slacks and white sweater with the sleeves tied loosely around his neck. This was one Charles Nathaniel Emerson, the Third...

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Charles." The skunk femme said, patting the male's paw.

"When I got your message about Jenny being in trouble, I just _had_to rush over. So tell me, Esmeralda, how _bad_is it?" he asked in a heavy Bostonian accent.

"Well...let's just say it's bad, and we need to move quickly to resolve this awful predicament and bring her back where she belongs, so that she may take her proper place at your side."

"I see. What do we know of her situation?" His voice held the touch of ice.

"Well, she's in Seattle; if you and a few of your chaps could see your way clear to teach this overblown tree rat who had absconded with my daughter a lesson as to what happens to a miscreant who dares to lay his paws on his betters, I would be very grateful."

Charles's eyes narrowed "I think that can be arranged, I _know_Chuckie, Dougie and William _all_take a dim view of those who would pollute the bloodlines of _pure_furs...do you have any information on this waste of fur?"

The elder Skunk grinned. "Of course, my dear boy. Here is a description of the miscreant, his place of employment _and_his home address." She said, handing over the file folder.

Charles glared at the information and sneered. "He--he's a _raccoon?_How disgusting, and a dispenser of swill to a bunch of drunken reprobates no doubt--he probably beats my poor delicate flower...when shall we do this?" he growled, while Esmeralda smiled.

"We can dispatch a retrieval team in forty-eight hours. I would appreciate it if you and your boys could meet this riffraff at his place of employment...and tell your boys that he has...imposed himself_upon her...and she will _need_medical treatment..." the femme said, venom in her voice. The younger skunk blanched. "Dear _God, you said it was _bad_Esmeralda, but _surely_not..." Charles gasped.

Esmeralda nodded. "I an afraid so..._now_you see _why_time is of the essence and we must act quickly to get her the medical attention she needs to restore her purity once again..."

"Shall I bring you a--trophy?" Charles growled with barely controlled rage.

With a malicious grin on her muzzle, Esmeralda Harcourt-Smyth looked at the young male skunk, pride of the Emerson family line. Yes, she thought, this would be a good match. She liked the way he thought.

"Hmmmm, both ears and a _tail_are said to be the _traditional_trophies claimed at the bull fights when one of those _beasts_is taken down...if I'm not mistaken."

"They shall be in your paws by Wednesday afternoon." Charles declared.

"Thank you, _dear_boy...Gwen shall make you a _fine_wife, and I'm _sure_that she will be _very_grateful to you after all this..._unpleasantness_has been cleared away..."

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