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• Love's Shadow part 4. c. Grey K. 1997

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• Love's Shadow part IV,

The feline morph's hair and fur were matted where the dirty

water from the asphalt had soaked him, which was pretty much all over.

Jace knew that Patrick couldn't be comfortable with his hair and coat

like that. The grey feline looked slightly self-conscious but nodded,

"If you don't mind., Thank-you." "Not at all, come with me." Jace set

the Siamese that had been in his lap on the floor, standing up and

helping Patrick to his feet.

Patrick picked up his cane and followed Jace deeper into the

apartment. Jace went into the narrow hallway, stopping at the first

door on the right side. Patrick noticed that there were four doors in

total, two on the right side of the hall, one on the left, and one

directly off the end of the hall. The first door ended up being a

storage and linen closet. Jace reappeared holding a large, solid blue

towel.

He opened the second door on the right revealing a small, trim

bathroom. It was done in a plain dark grey and white with a simple

lay-out having just a sink, commode and large shower stall. The

bathroom was lit by a small window in one corner and Jace flipped the

lights over the mirror on, illuminating things better. Patrick gazed

around, assuming from it's neat, sterile appearance that this was the

common bath, kept orderly for visitors.

Jace caught Patrick's attention, "Fairly straight forward., Sink,

head, shower., You don't have to worry about water pressure or

temperature shifts, or things like that., The plumbing in the building

is kept in perfect condition., Shower is a might tricky though, I've

been meaning to get a new mechanism for it for a while now, I'll show

you a few maneuvers." Jace showed Patrick how to work the shower then

excused himself politely and stepped out of the room.

He closed the door behind himself, with a 'Yell if you need

anything' passed over his shoulder. Patrick eyed the locking mechanism

thoughtfully then thought better of it. He felt oddly safe with Jace and

trusted his new friend not to just barge in unannounced. Setting his

cane against the sink and draping the towel over the shower door,

Patrick looked at the floor and bottom surface of the shower.

The bathroom floor was covered nearly corner to corner with a

thick, fluffy charcoal grey mat that didn't slide when the feline

nudged at it with his foot. The floor of the shower stall was done in

a non-slip substance that the feline couldn't identify but looked safe

enough to not worry about slipping. There was also a thin but sturdy

rail set into the wall of the shower. Patrick assumed that it was

probably meant for washcloths or something but it held his weight

easily and would serve his purposes even if that wasn't exactly what

it was intended for.

Groaning slightly, Patrick rubbed at his battered joint, feeling

dull stabs of pain as he flexed it gingerly. The feline avoided looking

into the large vanity mirror as he pulled his shirt over his silver

maned head. Steadying himself on the sink and lowering into a sitting

position on the toilet seat Patrick proceeded to pull off his shoes and

socks. The weary feline flexed his toes and feet, feeling the silky

softness of the thick bath-mat underfoot.

Standing with some effort Patrick proceeded with getting his

jeans off, unbuckling them and allowing them to drop to the mat, then

stepping carefully out of them to avoid tangling himself up in them.

He was about to remove his under-shorts when there was a sharp rap at

the door. Patrick nearly fell against the shower as he grabbed for the

towel, throwing it around his waist. He relaxed a little when he heard

Jace's voice, "Patrick?," a pause and another knock, "Patrick??,

Paaaatrick, you still alive in there?"

Patrick stumbled across his clothes, bumping against the door

with an audible thud, "Jace?" He heard amusement in the skunk's voice,

"Oh, there you are...I guess., Lemme have your clothes." "What?!" Jace

laughed on the other side of the door, "Your clothes, they're wet and

dirty., Let me have them and I'll put them in the wash." "Oh, uh, OK,

hang on." Patrick stumbled again as he gathered his jeans, shirt and

socks up then reached for the door-knob.

He hesitated as he remembered he was still naked to the waist,

"Shit, oh, uh, um, well..." Patrick shrugged, gritting his teeth and

throwing the door open half-way. His new skunk friend was leaning

against the far side of the hall grinning at him, "Hi there., Come here

often?" Jace burst into laughter as the feline's damp clothes flew

across the hall, hitting him in the chest. He saw Patrick trying not

to laugh as the bathroom door whispered shut again.

The skunk looked at the bundle in his arms seeing jeans, socks,

and a shirt and couldn't resist himself, "Uh, Patrick, I seem to be

missing something(s) here., Unless of course you were missing them to

begin with." He heard Patrick's voice, muffled either by the wood of

the door or embarrassment, "I think I'll keep those if it's all the

same to you..." Jace grinned impishly at the door, "Suit yourself."

He moved off down the hall to the laundry alcove set next to the small

kitchen.

The skunk heard the shower turn on as he tossed Patrick's clothes

into the ancient washing machine but didn't start the machine yet. He

figured there would be the towel to wash too after Patrick was done

drying off. Jace ambled into the living room humming idly as he waited

for his new friend to finish showering. The young skunk folded himself

onto the couch, stroking Cherokee's back and tail with his ebon furred

hands.

Patrick smiled to himself at the skunk's bold disposition as he

closed the shower door and turned on the water. He sighed as the

steaming water coursed through his fur and down his body. The jets and

heat of the liquid eased the throbbing in his head and knee, warming

the tense and cold stiffened muscles, allowing them to relax. The

warmth of the water was gradually erasing the stiffness and freezing

numbness from his body. He would have to remember to thank Jace for

the use of the shower.

Patrick was puzzled at the skunk's openness but felt safe and

unafraid around the morph. He had never felt such an immediate rapport

with anyone before and wasn't sure what to think about it. Patrick

wasn't certain of himself at the best of times but he felt curiously

positive that he liked the skunk and felt comfortable around him. He

hoped that Jace would feel the same about him.

The young feline yawned and unconsciously moved a hand over

the scars that dominated his eye and cheek. He hoped that Jace hadn't

noticed the old wound that ran across his face and neck, extending

down to his chest. So many people were repulsed by the disfigurement

that marred his otherwise handsome features that Patrick had gradually

started doing things to hide his damaged form. Avoiding things like

loose shirts, button-downs and tank-tops, and wearing various hats

and sunglasses to hide his face. Patrick liked winter most of all the

seasons, he could wear large bulky clothes, hats and scarves.

The silver haired feline could move about in public most easily

in winter. Summer was his worst season and the stigmatized feline

usually hid indoors for most of it, never enjoying a trip to the beach

or local pool, not wanting to risk the ridicule of others. After

several years, Patrick's silver hair had grown long enough that he

could use it to conceal the marred part of his face from casual

inspection.

Patrick secretly hoped that the young skunk wouldn't be like

the others in his life, the ones that had forced him to hide his face

and body in disgrace. He didn't have to many friends and Jace seemed

so open, so warm and friendly and eager to get to know him. The feline

wondered if the skunk would like him even if he knew about his past

and how he had been injured. Patrick thought it was probably too much

to ask for but it didn't hurt to try he supposed.

He finished cleaning himself quickly, not wanting to take too

long in someone else's home, and shut off the water. Patrick just

stood against the wall of the shower for a moment and allowed the

water to drip from his fur. The feline saw that the frosted enclosure

of the shower went all the way to the ceiling and decided to relieve

his coat of the excess moisture the old-fashioned way before toweling

off. Squinting his eyes, Patrick shook his body and head, watching the

spray of water bounce off the walls of the shower before it swirled

down the drain.

He opened the door of the stall, taking the towel Jace had given

him and rubbing his fur dry. It took a few minutes for Patrick to dry

himself off, doing a delicate balancing act on his knee to reach the

more inaccessible areas of his body. He stood nude in front of the sink

and mirror, using his hand to wipe the steam from the glass. The feline

didn't often do this, usually simply ignoring the mirror and avoiding

it with his gaze or leaving it fogged until he exited.

Patrick looked at his exposed form in the mirror, holding the

towel in one hand and the edge of the sink in the other to steady

himself. He wished he hadn't looked, Patrick was of the personal opinion

that he perpetually looked like shit. Bizarre fur, hair and eyes, the

feline didn't look anything like his parents or siblings, although

his grandmother had once mentioned he resembled one of her parents.

Rangy muscles stretched under his fur, Patrick felt disgusted

as he realized his ribs showed more than slightly if he took a deep

breath. Admittedly he often had to force himself to eat after a

stressful day, or sometimes he just forgot to eat entirely, repeatedly

going for days on empty till he felt like dropping where he stood.

Patrick thought he looked like a badly treated fur rug stretched

across a warped picket fence. The feline felt ashamed that he could

let himself degrade to such an extent.

Before the incident when he was wounded he was a very handsome

and cheerful person, almost nothing like now. He saw the large flaws

on his skin that marred his fur, running down his face, onto the side

of his neck and onto his chest. Patrick hated his body, frequently

hated himself, a barely noticeable scar running across his left wrist

attested to that. He had tried pills too but both attempts had been

thwarted just barely in time. He loathed having to put up with the

scars, the pain, his disgustingly twisted and swollen knee. They were

everything that held him back, everything that had shattered his life

and spirit, everything responsible for destroying the morph he was and

leaving a nervous, paranoid phantom of his former self in his battered

and twisted body.

Patrick gazed down at the cane propped against the shower on

reflex. His eldest brother had given him the cane he now carried after

he had gotten out of the hospital. Patrick had kept throwing his badly

healed joint out just trying to walk normally. He hated the walking

aide with every fiber of his being, it was as bad a disfigurement as his

face or his knee. The young feline wanted to snap it in half with his

bare hands every time he picked it up. But the damned thing had come to

be like another appendage for Patrick. He couldn't move about without it,

snapping it would be akin to snapping his own leg at this point.

Patrick's knuckles creaked as he gripped the sink, tearing his

gaze away from his abhorrent form in the mirror. He realized with a start

that Jace had taken his clothes and all he had to conceal himself was

the towel. It would be inevitable that the skunk would see his body.

Patrick stood wondering how he could conceal the mars in his flesh from

Jace.

He finally gave up, calling the skunk's name through the door.

Jace got up from the sofa at hearing Patrick's voice, "Yeah, I'm right

here., Do you need something Patrick?" Patrick heard Jace stop outside

the door, "Uh, yeah, the towel you gave me is kind of soaked from

drying off., If it's not too much trouble, do you think you could get

me a fresh one?" Jace looked at the door quizzically, thinking Patrick

sounded upset for some reason, "Oh, you know what?, My robe should be

right there on the back of the door, just go ahead and use it."

He heard the feline's voice move slightly, changing in pitch

in a manner that the skunk couldn't quite identify, "Mmm, OK, yeah,

I've got it., It matches your eyes., You're sure you don't mind?" Jace

felt a warm sensation, that was the exact reason that Thomas had

purchased the robe for him. It matched his emerald eyes perfectly,

"No, I don't mind., While you finish up, do you want something to

drink?, I can put on some coffee or tea if you like." Patrick's voice

sounded weird again, "N-no coffee, thank-you, but some tea would be

nice please."

Jace stepped back, "All right." As he turned Jace remembered

that he had left his favorite mug in his room this morning and spun

to retrieve it. Patrick bundled his shorts up into the damp towel,

taking Jace's robe from the hook on the back of the door and wrapping

it around his body. Patrick's sensitive feline nose caught the skunk's

pleasant smell on the soft, fluffy fabric of the robe. He felt peculiar

as he sniffed Jace's scent, there was a knot growing in his stomach and

he felt almost light-headed.

Part of him wanted to wrap the robe tighter around himself and

just enjoy the skunk morph's scent, the other half wanted to seek out

the skunk himself. Patrick felt torn and agitated suddenly as some

deeply hidden part of him panicked, triggering an almost primal need

to flee in the young feline. Scared out of his wits, but not knowing

quite why Patrick opened the bathroom door and rushed out into the

hall where he collided hard with Jace, who was just coming out of the

main bedroom with his coffee mug in hand.

The skunk gasped, winded, as he tripped backward and fell. He

landed on his rump hard, nearly bruising his tail. Jace gritted his

teeth, sputtering slightly as once again cold liquid splashed across

his face, neck and this time chest, soaking his shirt. Patrick was

still on his feet, grasping the doorjamb and shaking slightly as he

recovered his senses. As he bolted from the bathroom, the feline

hadn't noticed Jace coming down the hall.

Patrick's mind seemed to be stuck in slow motion as he saw

his new friend get bowled backward, the half full mug flying up

and emptying it's contents across the skunk's face and upper body

before shattering against the wall. Jace heard Patrick whimper

loudly as he clutched at the door frame. The young feline was

battered agonizingly by long buried memories that came rushing

unheeded from the depths of his mind like a banshee from an open

grave.

A vision of a flying coffee mug and a torturously painful

searing sensation across his neck, chest and face pounded the young

feline until he wanted to scream. Patrick's own cries had been

drowned out by his fathers shouts and curses. The feline had felt

himself beginning to bleed from several locations before the blinding

nova of pain had erupted in his knee and everything had gone black.

The lucid part of Patrick's brain, the part that was still in the here

and now, blessedly immune to the appalling remembrance relayed that

the sound of Jace's cup shattering against the wall had been identical

to the sound of his father's mug splintering as it had hit the floor

nearly five years prior. The instance Patrick's life as he had known

it had ended.

Jace sat still, shaking his head and rubbing cold tea from his

eyes as he tried to figure out what had happened. He heard a shattering

noise then Patrick's voice erupt in a soul rending howl. It sounded

more like the tortured cry of some horribly wounded animal than the

soft, even voice of his new friend, "JACE?!!, OH, GOD!!!, NO!!!"

Patrick stumbled toward the skunk's seated form. He cried out in pain

as his leg skewed out from underneath him again and he went down to

the floor, struggling to get up.

Jace got to his feet as fast as he could, pulling Patrick

upright and instinctively holding the feline tightly to his chest.

Patrick was shaking uncontrollably, like the chill of death itself

had passed through his slender body. There were tears streaming down

his face as he clutched at Jace. He was speaking in a single

unintelligible string, Jace could hardly make out what the feline was

saying till he leaned his ear closer. Patrick was nearly wailing, a

fast stream of words only half of which made any sense at all to Jace,

"Oh God, oh God, Jace, I didn't mean to, it was an accident., Father,

NO!, I'm sorry, I'm sorry., Please stop!, Don't shout!, Oh!, It

hurts!, No, please stop, don't hit, no more!, I didn't mean to, it

hurts, burning!, Oh God it hurts!, Help me please!!!, Jace??!!!"

Jace tried to stop the trembling that washed through Patrick's

slender form, holding the feline tightly, "Patrick..., Patrick!, It's

OK, it's all right., You didn't hurt me, I'm all right." Patrick's

eyes focused suddenly on his face, "Jace!?, Oh, I'm so sorry." The

feline was weeping openly in Jace's arms, pressing his face against

the skunk's neck. Jace held him tightly trying to comfort the

distraught feline, rubbing at Patrick's neck and back gently, "Shh,

it's all right, it's OK., I'm fine., The tea wasn't even warm., I'm

just wet..., You didn't hurt me., Look at me, you didn't hurt me."

The sobbing slowly eased and Patrick lifted his head to look

into Jace's eyes, "You're alright?, You're OK?" Jace smiled at Patrick,

"I'm fine, the tea in the cup was stone cold., I think my favorite mug

is way beyond help, but I'm fine, sticky but fine." Jace wriggled his

nose experimentally feeling the fur on his face getting slightly stiff

from the sugar that had been in the tea. Patrick looked so relieved at

his words Jace almost had to suppress a smile.

The feline's heart skipped a beat and he gasped softly as he

felt the skunk's fingers run lightly across his scarred fur. Patrick

hadn't realized that his hair had moved away from his face and his eye

and cheek were now fully exposed to Jace. The feline suddenly felt

sick to his stomach, as though someone had just punched him hard in the

gut. He turned away, putting a hand up to mask his scarred face from

Jace, feeling still unshed tears welling up against his eyelids.

Patrick couldn't breath properly, he was tense, expecting the

skunk to express disgust at him or pull away. He was shocked to feel

Jace's feather light touch once again, moving up his cheek to gently

brush the disfigured skin around his eye. The tears spilled down

Patrick's face as he opened his eyes again, finding himself looking

squarely into Jace's own emerald green gaze. The feline felt breath-

less, bewildered.

There was no fear, no hatred, no malice, no loathing, disgust

or disdain anywhere in the skunk's face or eyes. There was only warmth,

tenderness and concern. Patrick felt dizzy, overwhelmed, almost faint

as the skunk's gentle caress played across his face, and at the lack

of malice or fear in Jace's face or body. He heard Jace's voice whisper,

"Is that what happened?" Jace saw more tears well in Patrick's golden

eyes as the feline nodded, "Yes, my father, he, he, he..."

The feline sobbed, trembling again as he replayed the malicious

attack over in his mind. Jace embraced Patrick in his arms, "Shh, shh,

it's alright..., You don't have to think about it, I know., He burned

you and then beat you while you were senseless from the scalding., I

assume your knee is his handiwork as well." Jace felt Patrick nod,

the feline's voice was quaking as he shivered against Jace, "He-he

worked in a factory, wore steel capped boots.,

"Not the ch-cheap shit things you see all over the place

nowadays., Industrial grade steel plate, nearly half inch thick.,

The kind where you can have your toes run over by a fork-lift and not

flinch, they must have weighed a good seven pounds each. You could

bust bricks with them and not stub your foot., After he threw the mug

at me, he started kicking me, broke my arm, collar bone and then

fragmented my knee., Ripped up the cartilage and tendons real bad., I

never really healed right, there was so much damage."

Jace led Patrick into his bedroom, sitting down with him on

the edge of the bed. The feline's grip around his chest hadn't

faltered as he had helped Patrick to walk and sit. The skunk shook

his head, his own father had only ever hit him once, the day things

had ended for his parents. Jace couldn't even imagine how someone

could hate their own child enough to nearly cripple them over God

knows what., "My God, how could someone be so cruel to their own flesh

and blood?, What happened to make him haul off on you so badly, I

can't even imagine."

Patrick dried his eyes with the end of the robe's belt, "My

father wasn't always like that., Wasn't always so abusive and

hurtful., Toward the end his health wasn't so good, he was drinking

and smoking more and more and his job was getting to him, the stress.,

One day we started discussing something then we started fighting., I

don't know why or how but he just got this horrible, cold, dead look

in his eyes and just..... snapped." Patrick popped his fingers for

emphasis, hugging Jace tighter.

The skunk felt his ribs creak at the feline's renewed embrace,

"That doesn't make it right., What did they do to your father after he

did that to you?" Patrick sniffled, then chuckled eerily. Jace couldn't

tell if it was bitterness or sarcasm lacing the feline's laugh. Either

way it made the fur on his neck stand up, "nothing..." The single word

was said flatly with no emotion to gauge it by.

The skunk bristled as he sat aghast, "Nothing!!?" Patrick

sniffled again and Jace felt his tail tap agitatedly against the bed,

"Nothing..., They didn't need to., He-he died., He DIED., Oh God., I

don't remember anything after my father crushed my knee but evidently

all the smoking and drinking and eating shit junk all day for years

gave him a heart attack while he was beating me senseless.,

"Imagine!, The exertion of beating me nearly to death gave the

bastard a massive coronary and, HE_DIED!!" Patrick stifled a sob

against Jace's shoulder. The skunk ran a hand over Patrick's neck,

rubbing it in little circles to try to calm the feline, "And some

people say there's no God., Bolt from the blue." Patrick's breath

slowed at his shoulder, "That's always how I've felt., If he had

gotten any further or had kicked me in the head or neck I probably

would have died."

"I'm glad you didn't..., Otherwise we wouldn't be sitting

here now." Patrick loosened his grip and dried his eyes again,

looking at Jace with his luminous,(though now slightly red), eyes,

"You say things to me that I've never heard from anyone else before.,

I feel like I should be waking up any moment now, like this is just

some cruel dream to tease me." Jace still massaged the back of the

feline's neck soothingly, "I say those things because I mean them and

I'm very much real and here if you need me."

Patrick felt all the fear, apprehension and worry melt from

him. He only felt safe and content as he sank into the skunks arms

again, "I think I do." The feline's nose twitched against the fur on

Jace's neck making the skunk giggle slightly, "What was in that mug?,

It smells good." Patrick suppressed the statement that Jace smelled

good too. The skunk's scent permeated the robe he wore, and being in

Jace's bedroom and in his arms Patrick's nose was filled with it. It

might have just been his imagination but Patrick thought Jace's scent

was getting stronger by the minute.

Inexperienced with skunks or anyone in general the feline wasn't

sure if that was good or bad. The skunk didn't show any signs of

relenting in his proximity to him so Patrick assumed it was a good

thing. If he had been more familiar with Jace he might have guessed that

the stronger aroma he had detected was the beginnings of the skunk's

mating scent. Jace fevently hoped Patrick hadn't picked up on his little

pheromonic faux pas. This was the first time the skunk had had another

male in his arms in a long while.

Not that Jace was some perverted sex maniac that got off on

distressed felines, he just couldn't help it. Between Patrick's

physical proximity, which was as close as the two could get without

the feline being in his lap, the fact that the only item of clothing

Patrick had on was his own robe and the way in which Patrick had hugged

him that last time, it had just happened. All those things had just

set the skunk's libido off instinctively, "Blackberry tea., But you

know, you could have just told me I needed a shower too., And now I

need a new favorite mug."

Jace was smiling again trying to breach Patrick's somber mood.

The feline was coming around, "I'm sorry for breaking your mug."

"That's OK., There is another one I like almost as much, but I may

have to hide it now., Tell you what, I'll only use mugs I don't really

like that much, you can throw those around all you like., OK?" Patrick

smiled hesitantly at the gentle ribbing, knowing Jace was just playing

with him. The skunk's hand was settled on the collar of the green robe

near his throat, tugging absently at a loose thread.

Jace shifted next to the feline, adjusting the soft terry cloth

of the dressing gown around Patrick's slim shoulders and chest where

the material had gathered and bunched slightly, "Here, let's fix this a

little, oh..." As he adjusted the bathrobe the material pulled loose

slightly, partially exposing Patrick's slim chest to the skunk. Jace

had seen the scarring on the feline's face and neck but was caught

cold by the marring on the right side of Patrick's chest.

The short, soft, uniform fur over Patrick's chest rippled

slightly from the scalding he had received. Some of the deep pink

scar tissue was very visible through the deep grey fur where the burns

had been worse. The scarred region on the feline's chest was the

biggest on his body, a rough oval shape about four inches in diameter.

It stretched up across his collar bone, almost meeting the scarring on

his neck. Jace could practically trace where the scalding liquid had

impacted Patrick's face, run down his cheek and neck to where some of

it had pooled on his chest.

The skunk looked as though he wanted to touch the scarred flesh

as he had on the feline's neck and face but held back slightly, "Does

it hurt you?" Patrick shook his head, "It's a little sensitive but it

doesn't really hurt." As he spoke Patrick took Jace's outstretched

hand and placed it gently on the marred fur on the side of his chest,

allowing the skunk to do what he had wanted to. The feline was amazed

at the gentleness and warmth of Jace's touch. The skunk never poked or

prodded, always keeping his claws carefully retracted and not applying

too much pressure or force as he caressed Patrick's fur and skin.

The feline mrrr'ed softly as Jace touched the scarred area of

his chest so softly and tenderly. The sensation was unbelievable to

Patrick. No one had ever wanted to actually touch the scars on his

body, even out of curiosity. Much less touch them with the kind of

soothing warmth and tenderness Jace was. The silent moment passed as

Jace moved his hand gently off of Patrick's collar, tugging the robe

back into place over the feline's body.

Patrick didn't want the striped morph to stop, almost voicing

his displeasure. Then he felt the skunk's hip against his own and

caught his tongue, smiling as he gazed over into Jace's emerald eyes.

Patrick started as Jace's hand settled on his leg, about mid-thigh.

The skunk sat up suddenly, snapping his fingers, "Be right back."

Jace remembered something that had been on his mind when he

had entered his room to get his mug earlier. Patrick watched the

skunk rummage in several drawers about the room, finally fishing a

strange looking object from one of them. Jace brought it back to the

bed, proffering it to the puzzled feline. It was a tube of thick

looking material about a half meter long and a little more than the

width of Jace's hand wide.

It looked like a sleeve torn off a wet-suit, but curved in

almost a boomerang-like shape with a small hole at the junction. The

material was thick and spongy, almost rubbery, and coloured a dark

charcoal gray. Jace turned it so Patrick could have a better look,

"Here., It's a knee brace, the kind used by physical therapists., I

used to run track, pulled muscles in my knees every so often., This

helped., It's self conforming, got a thermal lining, and it's water-

proof but it breathes., Pretty high-tech, my mother got it from

someone she knows."

Patrick took the brace from Jace's sable furred hands

tentatively, turning it over and looking at it. The pliable material

was strong and less giving than it looked, it moved and flexed but

hardly had any give to it when Patrick tried to stretch it in his

hands. Jace demonstrated how to wear the brace with his hands,

indicating placement and orientation, "There, like so., With this

over here, and the seam here., That hole goes over the knee-cap for

flexibility., Yeah, like that, oh wait, no, OK, yes, like so."

Patrick nodded listening and watching the skunk, then offered the

brace back to Jace, pulling back the hem of the robe as he spoke,

"Would you mind?, This first time., Just so I can watch how you do

it?"

Jace swallowed hard and took the brace in slightly unsteady

hands, trying not to let it show. He knelt on the floor next to

Patrick's feet, brace in his hands, stoically not looking up toward

where the feline had flipped back the lower hem of the robe,

exposing 95% of a long, lissome, thigh. Not wanting to cast a long

enough gaze, Jace wasn't sure if he caught a flash of paler fur

around Patrick's lower belly and crotch through the swiftly degrading

closure of the robe as the feline shifted on the bed.

Rolling the brace into a ring Jace stretched it between his

hands, "So it won't catch your fur." He explained hurriedly, slipping

the roll of material up over Patrick's foot and knee. The skunk settled

it on the feline's leg about mid-thigh, where his hand had been moments

before. The brace unrolled well, going with Patrick's fur down his leg

to around mid-calf. The material contracted slightly as it unrolled,

hugging the feline's limb, supporting his injured joint nicely.

"There." Jace pronounced getting up from the floor to stand.

Patrick nodded, moving his leg experimentally and feeling the strong

material move smoothly with his leg and knee. Though it didn't catch

in his fur, the sensation was interesting as the two moved against

one another and would take a little getting used to. Patrick wasn't

worried, if there was one thing he was good at, getting used to things,

especially painful or uncomfortable things, was it, "Thank-You, that

feels nice."

Jace smiled offering Patrick a hand up at standing. The feline

wobbled a little bit, instinctively trying to lean on his absent cane

for support. It felt peculiar to have both feet on the floor and be

standing relatively surely without his walking stick in hand. Jace

let go, standing back, but still staying within safety range should

Patrick have problems. The handsome young skunk clapped his hands

softly, "There you go!, Good!"

Patrick felt silly and wonderful at the same time, like some

massive child taking his first unaided steps. In the grey feline's

case it had been a long time, his right hand almost twitched for

lack of anything else to do at the moment. Jace smiled as Patrick

doddered a little but kept his to feet and walked into the hall. The

feline reappeared with his cane gripped in hand. He was still limping

slightly but Jace noticed he was hardly leaning on the aide at all,

using it more for balance than anything else.

Patrick smiled, shrugging modestly at the skunk, "No sense

tempting fate., A little at a time." "Sound words., You've still got a

little bit of a hitch in your get-along, as they say, but you're doing

just fine." Jace's tail flipped around his ankles as he watched

Patrick. The white stripes running down it's length stood out in the

grey light coming through the window.

Almost as if on cue, Patrick stumbled slightly on the carpeting,

falling against Jace as the skunk moved to catch his friend, "Whoa

there!, Careful." Patrick steadied himself on Jace's lean frame, coming

up nearly nose to nose and at perfect eye level with the skunk. He

pulled back slightly, regarding Jace's emerald gaze. His silky, black

furred face and neck, blunt nose & muzzle, and soft lips. Jace

practically felt Patrick's gaze. His luminous lemon coloured eyes were

wide and bright. Their expressive depths were shining in a way Jace

hadn't seen in Patrick before as the feline looked at him and into his

eyes.

The skunk was started from his reverie as Patrick suddenly blurted,

"Jace., Please don't hate me for this.....!!!!"

------------------------->end part IV