Ties That Bind, Chapter III: Crystalised

Story by r3ynard09 on SoFurry

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#3 of Ties That Bind

Many in Tabitha's circle of friends and associates are at crossroads in their lives. While the ferretess grapples with the aftermath of her destructive spree, Roger and Reynard face the ever more tangible reality of their upcoming wedding. When a terrifying threat emerges, they will have to pull together to emerge triumphant. But will the struggle bring everyone together or force them apart?


Part III: Ciaran works to get Tabitha a 9-to-5. Warren investigates the disappearance of Todd. Roger is faced with further problems following aforementioned disappearance.


The heavyset beaver didn't even give the papers I laid on the desk the courtesy of a cursory glance.

"No. And that's my final answer," he said flatly.

"Please. I've been to every other firm in the city. You're my last chance. At least _look_at her résumé," I pleaded, pushing the papers gently but insistently towards the beaver. "Please, Mr. Haggerty. At least give me a reason for why you won't,"

"Tabitha Crane is the reason," the beaver snorted derisively, jabbing a stubby finger at the name printed on the header of the sheet. "Her name of itself is grounds enough not to hire her,"

I sighed in resignation. This dead-end again. It always came down to that. Nobody wanted to hire a giantess, much less a giantess with a murderous track record. Well, when I put it that way, I could see where they were coming from. But nobody seemed to care that the culpability didn't in fact lie with her, that she didn't act like that under normal circumstances. But this time it would be different. I would stick to my guns and not give up prematurely.

"I understand your apprehension. I really do. Hell, I've been scared of her before," I replied. "But she's changed. Tabitha regrets what she's done and she's paid her dues. Now what she needs more than anything is a second chance. And you can be the person to give it to her,"

The beaver shook his head begrudgingly but snatched up the paper. "Hmm. Well, she does have Bob Stoakes from Kobayashi as a reference. Sounds like he had some pretty good things to say about her,"

"Umm--oh yeah. That's right," I nodded.

Tabitha had worked in the docks at Kobayashi Shipping as a part of her community service stint. I'd managed to get her supervisor to write her a letter of reference. A minor victory and more than a stroke of luck, I supposed. Gods knew I needed a few more of those if I were to land Tabitha a job.

"Bob's a good guy. Hawk of his word," Haggerty commented, tapping the letter with his pen.

"You know Stoakes? Of course,"

"Yeah, all of us blue-collar guys are best pals for life. Go out and down a few cheap beers in the local dive bar and watch the game," the beaver replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

I nodded silently, unsure of how to respond.

"So why doesn't she take a job with him? I'm sure he could use a gal who can stack shipping containers as easily as cordwood. Shit knows he bitches about that crane of his enough. Always breaking down,"

I couldn't help but chuckle. Tabitha definitely had a talent for that sort of thing. She didn't look too bad in a bathing suit, either. "I talked to him. But he couldn't take on any new employees. They've been facing budget cuts and can't afford to take on any additional personnel.

"But you're hiring. I saw your ad in the papers. Tabitha would be an asset to your company. She could build those things like... like Lincoln Logs once she's been properly trained. Think of it. You could take on more projects, generate more revenue for you guys... just give her a chance. She's smart, a fast learner, hard-working..."

"And who are you to speak to her personal strengths? Are you her attorney? Her, I dunno, agent?"

"I'm her... her boyfriend. Kinda," I confessed at length. "But she's not in much of a position to do this sort of thing for herself. I wish it were otherwise. She can more than fend for herself. But this is one of those times she needs a bit of an extra hand. So I'm doing what I can,"

Haggerty stared squint-eyed at me, expression mercurial. I watched nervously as the beaver fiddled with his pen, weighing his options.

"Well..."

*****

I would have beaten down the door were it not for the minor detail that it was over nine stories tall. Instead, I had to opted for pressing the buzzer situated at a more suitable height like there was no tomorrow.

The door swung open and Tabitha dropped to her hands and knees, leaning over the threshold and peering down at me.

"What's the matter?" she asked softly, a confused and worried frown creasing her brow.

"Absolutely nothing!" I beamed broadly. "I--I got you a job! You're employed. Well, this guy Haggerty associated with Bluth Inc. says it's a probationary thing for a few weeks, test basis sort of thing. But once you do a great job during that period, he'll be happy to hire you on permanently and you're set for as long as you like!"

Tabitha exhaled deeply, sinking into a seated position with her back resting against the doorjamb, hugging her knee as she stared off at nothing in particular. Her expression was a cocktail of relief, satisfaction, even tentative happiness. It was the prettiest she'd been in ages.

"Ciaran... gods... I don't know what to say..." she breathed, tears welling in her eyes.

"You don't need to say anything," I smiled.

"You shouldn't have done that. You didn't need to do that,"

"It's what a person does for someone he loves. And I do love you. I really do," I murmured, reaching out to massage a knuckle of the hand resting next to me. She trembled slightly under my touch.

I sat down with my back resting against Tabitha's fingers. "You can start tomorrow. There's a site up in Stone Beach. Apartment complex. They'll show you how to do the things you do and you go from there,"

Tabitha smiled. It was nice to see her happier again.

*****

Reynard shrank down to normal size just before sundown. We made a swift and rather bashful return to the Fitzrovia neighbourhood and the security of our apartment, Reynard wrapped in my long coat.

From the moment we got home, the only thing on Reynard's mind was making up for our earlier (and rather disastrous) attempts at marital coitus. I couldn't manage. My mind was still reeling from my brother's shocking news.

I collapsed into bed fully clothed, mumbling a half-hearted apology as Reynard fell into bed next to me, fully naked.

"Is something the matter?" he murmured, ruffling my hair the way he always did when I was playing coy and hard-to-get with him.

"I'm really sorry, Rey. Not tonight. I'm too... tired. I'll more than make it up to you tomorrow evening, I swear," I replied, summoning the energy to kick off my shoes.

"There's something wrong," Reynard said. "Tell me what's the matter. Like I said. We're in this together now, and I mean all in. At least tell me what's troubling you,"

"Tomorrow," I murmured.

"Hey," Reynard's hand moved to cup my cheek as he sat up next to me. "Let's work through it, whatever it is. We can tough it out. I only want to support you,"

"I'm just really worn out. Guess you just worked me too hard back in the park," I faked my best cheeky grin before rolling over.

The last thing I wanted to do was ruin Reynard's wedding night. Well, I'd already put a damper on it, but I didn't want it to go any farther by telling him about Todd.

Reynard made a noise that indicated he wanted otherwise, but murmured his consent and rolled over, pulling the covers over his head and falling asleep in what had to be a world=record-setting time. It was a godsdamn talent, one that I sadly lacked.

As Reynard snored blissfully on the other side of the bed, I tossed and turned, my mind churning and seething. Todd, had disappeared, vanished without a trace. Where could he have gone? How? I wasn't safe. Nobody was. Not with him... on the loose. At large.

tap tap tap

I sat bolt upright, pace quickening and ears erect. It was coming from the other room. Had we left the stove on or something? It had a nasty habit of making the most diverse and annoying repertoire of sounds known to appliances.

tap tap tap, more insistent this time

My feet padded across the cold laminate floor of the living area as I hurried for the window. The lower pane was jammed tight, had been for months. All of the delightful people down at property management had nodded and smiled their way through my repeated repair requests and then proceeded to do absolutely nothing. Douchebags. I managed to muscle the window open, leaning out into the chill night air.

"Tabitha!" I said. "What brings you here this time of night?"

The ferretess was sitting on the office building opposite my apartment building, resting her elbows on her knees as she peered at me.

"I got a job," she replied simply, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, that's great!" I said sleepily. "Where'd you get it? How'd you line it up?"

Tabitha flushed slightly. She reached out her arm so that her fingertips rested just under the windowsill. I hesitated, not exactly gunning to go clambering into the palm of a murderess. Sensing my reluctance, the giantess' ears drooped a little and she began to withdraw her hand to her lap.

"Hey! You trying to pull a fast one on me?" I said. "Gonna just let me just drop a few dozen feet? Thanks, bro. I'll have you know that distance is pretty significant to some of us smaller folks,"

Tabitha giggled a little, re-offering her hand with an air of relief. I managed to squeeze my way through the window, tumbling across the ferretess' dark-furred hand. Her fingers curled in gently around me, still affording me plenty of space to sit comfortably. Slowly, she moved me closer to her smiling face.

"Better not let Reynard catch me with some _woman_on my wedding night," I remarked wryly.

Tabitha's brows shot upwards in disbelief. "Wedding? I thought that wasn't for weeks,"

"Well, we decided to be a bit spontaneous," I shrugged. "All it took was for Reynard to grow to fifty feet tall and a little persuasion,"

Just when I thought Tabitha's brows couldn't go any further, they did. "Reynard?"

"Yep. Attack of the Fifty-Foot Reynard or whatever. Or, well, Intense Chit-Chat of the Fifty-Foot Reynard, I suppose. There was a rather refreshing lack of rampaging on his part,"

Tabitha shook her head in disbelief. "This city is so crazy,"

"Preaching to the choir," I replied. "But then again, I suppose that craziness is what gives me a job. So maybe I shouldn't be so whiny about it all,"

The ferretess' face grew serious again. "Is something the matter?" she asked. "You seem worried about something. Fidgety,"

I shook my head, gulping and smiling perhaps a bit too eagerly.

"No! Nothing. Everything's fine," I lied hastily. There was no point in dragging everyone into it.

Tabitha squinted at me briefly. "Alright. Anyway. It's a job at Bluth Inc. Some sort of construction outfit," her ear-tips tinged red, " And it was Ciaran who got me the job. Gods, I love him,"

Oh, Ciaran. Ciaran, Ciaran, Ciaran. That poor mink gave his all to Tabitha and what did he get in return? Continued heartache.

"You had better be damn grateful to Ciaran for all of this," I said, getting unevenly to my feet and standing in the groove in the giantess' palm. "He would give his life for you. And fuck knows he's done damn near that exact thing more than once.

"I'm happy for you and the fact that you got that second chance. I really am. I wish you nothing but the best, I really do. But you need to remember how you got that second chance,"

"Of course," Tabitha replied softly, wide-eyed. "Of course,"

I shifted, grabbing onto the tip of her thumb for support. "Good. Now. If you don't mind, we've both got busy days ahead of us tomorrow. A little bit of shut-eye wouldn't be too bad,"

Tabitha nodded her assent, gently conveying me back to the window, which I managed to slither through with only a little effort. As the giantess wended her way homeward, I slipped into bed next to my still-slumbering husband. Husband. I smiled to myself. Yeah, that was nice. I curled up next to him, resting my cheek on his shoulder. He was mine now. That comforting thought permitted me to slip into a fitful, if somewhat uneasy slumber.

*****

I hoped they wouldn't think I was playing to stereotypes by wearing my flannel shirt to my first day at work. Wait, was that construction workers or lumberjacks? Oh, whatever. They would have to deal with it.

The foreman greeted me at the Stone Beach site with a pinkie-shake that was about as firm as I could hope or expect from anyone. I offered him a lift he gave me a tour of the place.

The site was, or was going to be, rather, an apartment complex roughly hip-high to me. The Stone Beach neighbourhood had seen a recent population boom and people were positively clamoring for homes there. Rent was certainly cheaper than in most of the more centrally-located Saaduuts neighborhoods. Then again, I'd managed to land a pretty sweet piece of property myself and for barely anything. One of the rare bonuses of being ninety feet tall, I supposed.

Much of the preliminary work on the building had been completed; foundations laid and the "skeleton" of the building complete. Workers were scrambling around the structure like so many carpenter ants, laying siding and finishing the frame of the upper floors.

"Alright, I have some things to take care of in the trailer, but if you talk to Kit over there, he'll get you hooked up with some stuff to do," the beaver instructed warmly. "We don't have any hard-hats in, ah, your size, but I wouldn't worry about it too much if I were you. I doubt if anything we have on site could give you much more than a bruise,"

I chuckled softly, nodded and, setting the foreman down, rounded the building in search of Kit.

"Ow_ow_," a husky whistled from a crane conveying large beams to the upper floors.

"About time the boss gave us some eye candy," called a cheetah. "Hey, sugar. Why don't you turn around and let us see the whole package?"

"Eye candy? Broad is flat as a board," a hyena commented.

I took a step backward, cringing as I felt a section of chain-link fence crunch under my heel. I could practically feel the redness in my ears and cheeks. This had been a mistake. I should never have decided to do this.

"Oi! Can it, the lot of you," a stocky badger with unruly hair poking out from under his yellow hard-hat growled. He turned towards me, craning his neck. I stooped down, resting on my haunches.

"Sorry about that," the badger grunted. "They're a hard-working bunch, but not exactly the most... civil-mouthed, especially when it comes to new hires. Name's Kit,"

"I'm Tabitha. But you probably already knew that," I replied. "And I'm alright. I have a thick pelt. They can just go shove it. Oh, the foreman said you'd have some work for me,"

"Not much going on today; we've got a bunch of siding we need transported here from another site. It would be nice if you could bring 'em over here for us to deal with," Kit said. "Cheaper than hauling it all by truck. And perhaps less likely to get loss, given Miles' incredible ability to follow basic fucking directions,"

That day off the work site proved to be a blessing in disguise. The coming days were no cake walk. They always say work makes the time pass more quickly, but all of the heckling did something to cancel that out a little. Kit's admonishments managed to keep the worst of it more or less at bay, but I could always rely on the good old boys to constantly remind me that I was, in fact, female.

Don't get me wrong: I don't need a bunch of best friends at work. But I'd also love it if I could at least tolerate the time I spent at work. I spoke with the foreman on several occasions, but if he even said anything to his employees, it produced no results. The incidents kept on going. More catcalls, more wolf-whistles. One of the biggest schlubs, a cheetah by the name of Shane, even went so far as to "accidentally" drop his wrench down the front of my blouse and hoot at me as I was forced to fish it out, glaring at him all the while.

Every night, I went home, ate dinner, and went promptly to bed, hoping to smother the growing sense of unrest. I wasn't about to play the victim.

*****

"Sorry about that," I mumbled bashfully, stuffing my mobile back into the pocket of my suit jacket, completely off this time. "My brother. He seems to think that I'm a telephone operator or something. Constantly calling. Won't happen again. Anyway, you were saying, Agent Guillam?"

The cross fox blinked, re-shuffling the stack of papers in his hands. "Well, there isn't a whole lot to say," he reiterated, exchanging glances with the gaoler. "There is still absolutely no word on Todd's whereabouts. No leads whatsoever,"

"It's as if he vanished into thin air," the gaoler, a thoroughly bland-looking squirrel by the name of Jameson added oh so helpfully.

"I'm unwilling to believe that there aren't any leads whatsoever," I snapped in response. "Did the inmate correspond with anyone? Letters, email, the occasional phone call, whatever,"

Jameson squinted as he racked his simple brain, trying to recall. He crossed the small, dimly-lit office to a row of file cabinets, sorting through folders until he found the proper one.

"Yeah... looks like he got a few letters from someone by the name of 'A. Peters'," the gaoler said, skimming the folder. "Only a few, spaced months apart,"

"Does this Mr. Peters have an address we can find?" I asked, shooting Guillam a withering look.

Simple detective-work was all he needed to do, and yet he still managed to muck that up somehow. The cross fox didn't even think to ask for something as elementary as correspondence? Gods help us all.

"Looks like it," Jameson nodded eagerly. "Except it's different with each letter," he added.

"No worries. I'd like a copy of all of them, if you could," I asked, pulling my long coat and scarf from the back of the wooden chair Jameson had offered me when I'd entered his office. "You don't happen to keep a record of the letters inmates receive themselves, do you?"

More brain-racking on the part of the squirrel. "I'm not entirely certain. Ernest, the mail clerk, would be the guy who handles stuff like that. He'd know,"

"Peter, could you accompany Mr. Jameson to the mail clerk?" I instructed Agent Guillam, eyes flashing as I threaded the scarf around my neck. "Scan me a copy of whatever you find,"

The cross fox nodded, still a little embarrassed about his oversight, and followed after the gaoler. I smirked as I noticed that his tail was tucked a little between his legs. Good. Reality checks are nice on occasion.

As I breezed out the entrance to the North Pacifica Penitentiary, I pulled out my mobile and turned it on. Sighing heavily, I dialed my brother. Time to figure out what it was he wanted, exactly.

"Took you long enough," Roger answered, tone petulant, after a few rings.

"Well, some of us have high-stakes jobs that require focus and attention free of interference from mobiles and brothers," I growled.

"Beg pardon? You mean to say I don't have a high-stakes job?" retorted my brother. "I'll have you know--"

"--What was it you needed to talk with me about?" I cut off my brother's inevitable self-righteous rant.

"Oh. Yeah. I wanted to know if you had any leads on... on--"

"--Todd?" I sighed heavily. "Look, little, bro. I wish I did. I really do. But we got nothing. Not yet,"

"Oh,"

Roger fell silent. Not even a complaint about me calling him my 'little brother'. That was always liable to get a rise from him. He was born an hour or so after me, so there you go. But it felt like a cheap shot today.

"I'm doing everything I can to find that son of a bitch," I promised. "I'm following a hunch right now. You'll be the first to know. Even before I file anything with my superiors,"

"Let me help you," Roger said hastily.

"You know I can't let you do that," I replied with a pang of remorse.

Silence on the other end of the line.

"Besides," I pushed on, "you've got a lot on your plate as it is, haven't you? What about Becca? Surely there's a lot going on with all of that,"

"Becca?" Roger replied, confusion in his voice.

"Didn't you get the memo I sent your section? Clearly not. Well, I've got to run now, but the memo explains everything. Take a look at it. I gotta go now. Bye,"

Hanging up, I fished for the keys to the car in my coat pocket. I groaned loudly as the mobile rang for the umpteenth time that day. Sometimes, I just wanted to return that thing to the fires of Mount Doom from whence it came. The bane of my godsdamn existence.

"Smith," I grunted.

"Warren! You forgot to grab the list of addresses from Jameson. Then again, nobody is perfect, I suppose," Guillam sniffed.

"Let it go, Peter," I replied with a chuckle, shaking my head. "You have them, then, I take it?"

"Yeah. I figured we could split 'em fifty-fifty. Speed things along,"

"Sounds fine by me. You get the letters from Ernie or whatever the fuck his name was?"

"Yeah. That damned gaoler talked my ear off all the way there. Wants to be an MX4 agent, just like us. The guy's earnest, I'll give him that much,"

I snorted. "Heh. Probably watched a bit too many espionage television programs for his own good. If only it was that exhilarating. Though I do have a fair share of awesome puns to bust out just before sliding on my sunglasses, in my defense. Get a look at any of the letters?"

"They seemed pretty blasé at first glance. But I'll get you a copy and send another to Cryptanalysis; see if they can find a cipher or something like that,"

"Now that's using your head. There's the cross fox I remember,"

"Anyway, I've got the addresses here. Looks like there are two sites over on the East Side and two more out on the Cape. You got a preference?"

I grumbled. More travelling than I had hoped for. "East Side, I guess,"

"Alright. I'll send you the exact addresses, but one is situated near Salish and the other is just outside Winthrop,"

"Good to know. Keep me informed,"

I hung up and put the car into gear. Time for a little road trip.

*****

I slumped into my desk chair with a grunt. The day was really vying for a spot in the Top Ten Worst Days of All Time list.

Much to my chagrin, Reynard had remembered my promise to fill him in on what was going on and held me to it. I'd tried to couch the news about the disappearance of Todd to him gently, but that's a little difficult when you have the subtlety of, say, a steamroller being blown about by a hurricane. Tact had never been my strong suit.

The arctic fox, normally not predisposed to rash behavior, went apoplectic. All I could do was repeat what I knew, and that was essentially nothing. That just escalated him further; so much for 'honesty is the best policy'. I could deal with that later.

Then there had been the morning traffic, which somehow managed to be even worse than the usual apocalyptic snarl. And now all this so-called Becca business. To what had Warren been referring?

I pushed aside a stack of report drafts and my eyes fell on a stack of papers that had been clipped together and stamped with two red stamps, one reading INTERINSTITUTIONAL MEMO, and the other _PERSONNEL. _The cover sheet bore my twin brother's sloppy signature. This had to be it.

My brow furrowed and my frown deepened as I flicked through packet Warren sent. Pushing back from the desk, I hurried through my door and down the hallway.

"Karl?" I asked, pushing past his protesting secretary and through the door. "You're going to want to see this. As in right now,"

"Now?" the muskrat glared up from the round table in the back corner of his spacious office. Shit. He was in the middle of a meeting.

"Now," I repeated, swallowing my uncertainty and holding up the sheaf of papers.

Karl blustered a little but got up from the table and waddled towards me. I nodded apologetically at the people sitting around the table before wheeling and following Karl out his door.

"What is this about?" he spat as I ushered him into an unoccupied conference room.

"It's about Tabitha," I said, closing the blinds on the large windows that looked inward towards the hall.

"I am not hiring her back. Not after that... stunt she pulled,"

"I understand completely, sir," I nodded vigorously.

Tabitha's 'stunt'? The last time he'd even mentioned the whole incident, he'd used _much_stronger language. I must have caught him in a charitable mood. Well, relatively speaking, of course. Counting myself lucky, I plunged forward.

"See, sir, it's about her, but not directly. It seems as if during her hearing, some important facts weren't discussed very thoroughly," I said.

Karl's face flushed every imaginable shade of pink, red, and purple as I explained the situation in light of the information Warren had furnished. I laid the story out as clearly and plainly as I could manage: the deception, the drugging, the aftermath... everything. The _actual_everything this time.

"That--that..." was about all he could manage as I finished.

"It's unbelievable, I know," I agreed. "But it's all here and it's all undeniable,"

The muskrat took the sheaf of papers I offered him, thumbing through them in disbelief. He sat down heavily in a chair, shaking his head numbly.

"Well, shit," Karl concluded at length, slamming the papers onto the conference table.

I remained silent, studying the grain pattern of the table intently.

"I am going to have a word with Becca. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Smith," Karl said, his voice disturbingly even. "Needless to say, I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything about this. I'll handle the rest of staff,"

"Of course, sir," I replied. "Oh, and it's Smith-White now," I added with a flicker of pride. "We tied the knot finally,"

The hint of a smile flashed across Karl's face; about the closest I'd ever get to one, or anyone, for that matter.

"Congratulations, Roger," he said, his tone gentler.

"Thank you," I smiled feebly. I just wished I could have that satisfaction without the taint of everything else going on.

Karl was back in full-on blowhard mode by the time he returned to his office door, bellowing for his secretary to call Becca to his office "right this godsdamned minute."

The ferretess passed me as I returned to my own office, stuffing a pen into the pocket of her lab coat. I couldn't bring myself to return her small smile.

"Guess the boss wants to see me," she commented. "Wonder what he's got his tail in a knot about this time,"

"Mm," I muttered half-heartedly, pushing through my door. I felt like godsdamned Judas.

The stack of report drafts was still waiting for me when I returned, but I couldn't focus on them, eyes staring glassily at the pages without registering any of the words.

If turning Becca in was the right thing to do, why did I feel so damn guilty about it?

*****

The nurse looked up at me from her computer, speaking in the world-weary tone of one who is at the end of a very long shift. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a Keith Davies," I said, leaning up against the tall reception desk that separated us. "I'm his son,"

The cat checked my identification and entered something into the computer before looking back at me. "He's in room 1307. Just sign in and out,"

I scrawled my name and the time onto the line on the clipboard glued to the desk before padding down the long, cream-tiled hallway.

As I stood in the doorway of Room 1307, leaning against the doorjamb and staring into the darkened space, uncertainty suddenly clutched at my chest. Why was I here? I didn't belong. I shouldn't have gone.

My father wasn't awake. Laid out on his back on the hospital bed, his expression seemed almost peaceful. His legs were encased in casts supported by cables attached to the ceiling and a brace kept his back still so that his vertebrae could heal.

Making my way into the semidarkness of the room, I sat down numbly in the plastic bucket chair set beside the bed in case anyone wanted to visit. Tears suddenly blurred my vision, spilling down my cheeks as I found myself sobbing and hugging my knees to my chest. Burying my face in my knees, I rocked back and forth as much as the rickety chair would allow. I hated this. I hated my father. I hated what had happened to him. I hated that Tabitha didn't think I could solve my own problems. I hated wallowing in self-pity.

"Need some light?"

I sat bolt upright, casting about for the source of the voice. The cat I'd spoken with earlier stood silhouetted in the doorway.

"Um, no. I was just leaving," I replied, unfolding my legs and wiping my eyes.

"Everything alright?" the nurse asked softly as I exited the room.

"I guess," I replied.

"We offer family counseling on the ground floor, if that sounds like something you might be interested in," the cat offered.

"I'm fine," I lied. "I just wanted some... closure, I guess. I dunno. What's going to happen to him?"

The cat checked the clipboard on the door. "Well, it looks like he'll be transferred to Winthrop Regional in a few days now. He's stable enough, and his wife--your mom--wants him closer to home,"

"Good," I said before thanking the nurse and making my way out of the ward. Mom could have him. I needed to divorce myself from the past. This wasn't my life any longer. Of that much I was certain.

*****

Reynard had the car that day, so I had to walk over to the Centrehouse in order to catch a bus home that evening. It was only a little after six, but the sky was already dusky. Turning my collar up against the chill and gathering dark, I hurried down the narrow street towards the bus stop.

It wasn't until I'd practically bowled her over that I noticed Becca standing in the shadows of the building next to MACRO headquarters with her back against a brick wall.

"You," she snarled simply before I could get a word in edgewise.

The ferretess turned on me, backing me against a street lamp.

"Karl sent out an email," I mumbled. "I'm terribly sorry to hear--"

"He fucking fired me," Becca spat, eyes flashing, her features sharp and severe in the amber light of the lamppost. "He just up and shit-canned me. No appeal, no nothing,"

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't you play ignorant, Roger. I know you were in on this, you little shit," her finger was burrowing into my chest, just above my sternum. "You've had it in for me ever since Tabitha got let go,"

"I have not," I retorted sharply. "Yes, I did. I gave Karl some intel. I won't lie to you. But it is because you did something wrong and you needed to answer for that. It is not because I had some sort of personal issue with you,"

My expression softened, if only in self-defense. I didn't want to risk setting the ferretess off and getting crushed in the explosive growth that would invariably follow.

"You're handling this very well," I gestured at her, tone sympathetic. "You'll be able to find something. You're smart, and gods know they have enough other genetics and such jobs around. Saaduuts is like a fucking _magnet_for that sort of shit--"

"Don't patronize me," Becca hissed.

I opened my mouth to respond, but said nothing. Brushing Becca's jabbing finger away from my chest, I walked from her. Becca said nothing, her face obscured in darkness as she stood under the lamppost. The lamplight cast her shadow far down the street, threatening to engulf me in darkness, as if she were reaching out towards me.

Oh wait. That was because she actually was reaching out towards me.

I spun around as I heard a loud snap coming from behind. Becca towered over me, her form shrouded in shadow. I scrambled backwards desperately, trying to find refuge of some sort, but the giantess was too quick.

Her grasping fingers surrounded me, lifting me off the ground. I cried out as her vice-like grip crushed the breath from my lungs. Unable to speak, I quailed as the ferretess leered at me, eyes glittering in the black masklike markings of her facial fur.

"Lights out, Roger," Becca hissed.

I felt a sharp, jarring pain to the side of my head as she flicked me. Everything went black and I knew no more.

Ties That Bind, Chapter II: Attack of the Fifty-Foot Reynard

I couldn't help but gawk as Reynard stared downward back at me. Not that he seemed any less shocked about his general predicament. The balcony on which I stood only came to the middle of his white-furred chest. His jaw hung slack, bewilderment in his...

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Ties That Bind, Chapter I: Pity and Fear

_And there are no tears_ _Just pity and fear_ _And a vast ravine_ _Right in between_ _(Death Cab for Cutie)_ * * * We tumbled through the front door of Reynard's apartment, giggling like godsdamn _schoolgirls_. Had I _no_dignity? Reynard ran for...

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Bad Moon Rising

"Oi, Cog!" Baram called across the locker room as the black-scaled dragon pushed through the door. Cogaran glanced up as he finished his text, stuffing his phone into the pocket of his slacks. A crooked grin crossed his face as he saw the blue...

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