The Line

By: 3timer

Part 1

Julie had been in the bathroom for over an hour.  Roger began to grow worried.  He stood at the door for a moment and listened, all he heard was the shower.  The spray sounded hard, she had it turned all the way up.  He called to her.

“Julie, are you alright in there?”

Only the hiss of driving water answered him.  He rapped on the door lightly.  

“Julie?” 

That time he heard something else, a stifled sob.  

“Are you hurt, Julie?”  A more open sound of weeping echoed in the bathroom.  Roger tried the doorknob, it was locked.   

“Julie, honey, I need you to talk to me, I need you to tell me you're okay.”  He could feel panic begin to clutch at his chest.  Roger, you idiot!  The panic chided.  There's a whole fucking bottle of sleeping pills in there!   There's drain cleaner under the sink!  That stupid box cutter you keep in there for christsake!  What the hell were you thinking?  You knew she was going to be here! 

Roger jiggled the doorknob, “Please open the door!”

He thrust his shoulder into the door.  It gave much easier then he was expecting and he almost fell onto the bathroom floor.  The bathroom was heavy with steam.  Julie had not turned on the fan.  Not only were the mirrors fogged up but condensation was dripping down the walls.  Water soaked into Roger's socks because Julie had left the shower curtain open.  The floor was sopping wet.  Her black dress and panties were bunched up between the toilet and sink, soaking up what they could.

All that was only a minor concern to Roger.  His niece was crouched in the corner of the shower, bawling uncontrollably under the torrent.   The young ferret was hugging her naked body and shivering.  Roger rushed to her side and put a hand on her shoulder.  

“Julie, you're freezing!”

The shower had been running so long that the hot water tank was empty and now only ice cold water was coming out.  Roger turned off the shower and grabbed a towel.  He wrapped the towel around Julie and picked her up.  For a moment she stopped crying, looked at him with her sorrowful eyes, and the realization of their situation hit him full force.

My God!  Roger thought  I'm all she has left!

Her lower lip trembled as she read the thought in his eyes.  She threw her arms around him, buried her face in his neck and began to cry again.  Her wet fur soaked through his good dress shirt almost instantly and the towel fell into the puddle on the floor.  There was too much sorrow to feel awkward about the situation, Roger sat down on the toilet lid and held her close while she let it out.

Only hours before she had been at the funeral of her little brother who had died after ten days in intensive care.  The week before she had attended the funeral of both of her parents who had died at the scene of the crash.  Roger had watched her closely during both ceremonies wanting to comfort her but not knowing how.  She had been aloof and distant.  She cried some, but would speak to no one.   Friends of the family who had been watching her during that time approached Roger.  They told him that Julie had been terribly disruptive to their family, lashing out in anger and breaking things.  They allowed her some leniency at first, but she had gotten worse.  She had actually bitten one of their boys on the ear.  They asked Roger if he could take her off their hands.  He only agreed because he couldn't think of a tactful way to refuse.  

It wasn't because Roger didn't love her, it's just that he had his own life to live.  He lived a comfortable, solitary life with few distractions and little stress.  He had never married because it required a degree of responsibility that he didn't feel he could live up to, plus he didn't know if he could share his life.   Marriage also led to children, and he never thought he would make a great father.  Now that he thought about it he wasn't exactly an ideal uncle either.  He had visited her family occasionally, and bought her presents at appropriate times such as Christmas and her birthday. 

Aw, shit!  Her twelfth birthday is next week!  What am I gonna do for that?  What a fucked up year this has been!  My sister, my nephew, my brother-in-law are all dead!  My sister didn't have the decency to make a will, since her husband left everything to her in his will we had no clue what their wishes were if both of them happened to pass.  Mom and I had to make all the arrangements, mostly me since her Alzheimer's is getting worse.  Since Dad died she's been pretty useless in any serious matters even when she's lucid anyway.  Shit, she called me two days ago to ask me where he went again.  I hate having to tell her that he's been gone for almost six months, it's like he died all over again.

And now I gotta figure out what a twelve year old wants for her birthday.

Roger was starting to get uncomfortable.  Not only was his shirt wet, but now so were his pants.  The toilet wasn't exactly the best seat in the house either.  She must have thought he was going to set her down when he stood up because she clutched tighter around his neck and locked her legs around his midsection.

“Don't let me go!” She sobbed, “Just...hold me.” They were the first words she had spoken to him since the accident.  When he had told her that she would be staying with him for a while she only nodded slightly with her hands in her lap, as if barely comprehending his words.  She stared out the window on the drive home and didn't seem to be listening to him every time he tried to strike up a conversation.  The drive was quiet and awkward.  There was a faint smell in the car that he couldn't place.  It was an odorless smell, which didn't make sense.  He was sure it wasn't there before and it was aggravating him.  When they arrived at his home she immediately went into the bathroom for a shower without saying a word.

She was still shivering.  He wasn't sure if it was from being cold or from her emotional state.  Probably both.

Birthdays are a worry for another day.

“I am honey.” He assured her, “We're just going to find a blanket.”

He carried her out of the bathroom and through the hallway to the living room.  He happened to catch a glance at himself in the mirror.  A thirty-five year old ferret with a wet, naked, preteen wrapped around him.  He hoped he remembered to close the shades on the big picture window in the living room.  The last thing he needed was the nosy neighbors to see this.  Though it was late, maybe they were in bed.

The shades were drawn to his relief.  The thick, afghan draped on the back of the couch was his warmest and favorite.  He had curled up under it on many cold nights to watch television.  It was a gift from his grandmother when he was young, a gift he didn't truly appreciate until many years later.  He sat down on the couch and wrapped the afghan around them both.

“Your great-grandma crocheted this for me when I was your age,” He explained, “She told me whenever I needed a hug from her to wrap this around me, I've used it a lot but I think there's still a few hugs left in it.”

Julie curled up on his lap in a more comfortable position, her head resting on Roger's chest.  She was beginning to calm down.  The young ferret examined the throw, pawing at the intricate weave and bright colors.  

“It's pretty.” She sniffled.  

“It's yours if you want it, I think she would have liked you to have it.”

She bunched up some of it and buried her face in it's softness.  “Thank you.”  She rested her head back on his chest, “Uncle Roger?”

“Hmm?”

She didn't speak for a moment, then she asked, “How did she die?”

Roger grimaced to himself.  Why would she ask about that now?  

“Well, um... she got lung cancer and the doctors didn't catch it early enough.  It spread through the rest of her body.”

“Did she smoke?”

“No, no she never smoked.  Sometimes it just happens for no reason.”

“Did you love her?”

He smiled, “Very much, I still do.”

She looked up at him, her bloodshot eyes filling up with another mournful outburst, “Why don't you love me?”

He felt like he had just been kicked in the gut.  “Baby, why would you think I don't love you?”

The waterworks started up again, but she managed to talk though it, “I o...overheard Mrs. Johnson, sh...she said that Grandma was too sick to take c...care of me, an...and y...you didn't care about anyone bu...but yourself.  I di...didn't believe it, bu..but I thought ab..about it.  An...and you never took me to the z...zoo, or the mo...movies, or the m...mall, or fi..fishing...”

Roger clutch her tightly to his chest,  he was starting to weep as well, “No, honey, please don't–” But Julie continued.

“An...and you said I wu...would be st...staying with you for a while, lu...like you didn't want me he...here.”

Oh, God.  She was listening to me.  I'm such a fucking idiot!

“Mrs. Jo...hnson said I would have t...to go to a fu...foster home an...and I would nu...never see you or grandma or mu...my friends again!”

“Julie, baby, listen to me.” Roger insisted, but the girl had begun to wail, clutching onto his shirt in a ferocious grip.  When he pulled her away his shirt ripped, and she started to claw at him in hysterics, the afghan falling from her shoulders.  He managed to snag her wrists before she could do any serious damage.

“LET ME GO!  LET ME GO!” She started to scream. Something in the back of his mind took note that the smell that was in the car had returned.  A thick, but unremarkable smell.  If there hadn't been a shrieking, flailing girl on his lap he might have noticed that he had an erection. 

“LET ME GO!  LET ME GO!” she continued at the top of her lungs.  If she kept it up she would wake the neighbors who would waste no time in contacting the authorities.  He might be able to explain this situation away, but he doubted it.  He quieted her with the first idea that came to mind.

He grabbed her by the face and kissed her.

It wasn't a quick kiss either, it was a lovers kiss.  It surprised her so much that she bit his lip, but he didn't let up.  It was unlikely that she had ever been kissed is such a manner and the shock silenced her protests almost immediately.  She pushed at him weakly for a moment, but even that subsided quickly.  He pulled away and opened his eyes.  She was looking at him with wide, dumbstruck eyes.  Forgotten tears brimming under the lids.  A smear of his blood on her lower lip and chin.

“I'm sorry I had to do that, but I need you to listen to me now.”  He explained, still cradling her face, “Are you going to listen?”

She shook her head quickly, the daze from the kiss starting to fade.

“I love you very much, but you're right, I haven't shown it very well.  That changes right now.  You are now the most important thing in my life, and you will be for the rest of my life.  I swear to you I will never forget to show you how much I love you.  We'll go fishing and watch movies and even go to those boy-band concerts.  Tomorrow we're going to make up a bedroom for you any way you want it, because you are going to be staying with me from now on.”

WHAT THE FUCK AM I SAYING?

Julie pouted for a moment, then she held up the smallest digit on her right paw, “Pinkie swear?”

Roger hooked his pinkie onto her's, “Pinkie swear.” He confirmed, “You can stay with me until you're fifty if you want.”

She cried out happily and threw her arms around his neck, “I love you Uncle Roger!”

“I love you too.” He said, rubbing her back, “But...”

She stiffened in anxiety at the last word.

“As soon as you turn fifty-one I'm kicking you out.”

She pulled back and looked at Roger crossways.  The wry smirk on his face gave the joke away.  It was a stupid joke, but to her own surprise she started to laugh.   Roger started to laugh as well and it made her laugh even harder.  They clutch each other in mirth for a few minutes, finally they both settled down, sighing almost at the same time.  She looked up at him and smiled wearily, her eyelids starting to get heavy. “I didn't know if I would ever laugh again.”  She told him.  Then she pulled the afghan over herself and snuggled into his lap to fall asleep.  

He looked down at her for a moment, she didn't look anything like the little monster that was trying to claw his eyes out a short while ago.

Maybe I can do this.  Maybe it doesn't have to be a bad thing.

Roger started to snooze as well, but something kept waking him up.  It was that heavy, odorless, scent again.  It was familiar, but he couldn't place it.  He looked down at Julie's upturned, sleeping face.  Was it coming from her?  He brushed a strand of the longer fur from the top of her head away from her face.  He happened to spy something unusual on her ear.  A mark, it looked like a small bruise.  

I've seen that before somewhere, and that smell...

A sudden realization dawned on him.  The horror of it grew with each passing second.

No fucking way!  She's not even twelve yet!

There was no comfort in that fact.  He was well aware that it happened to girls as young as nine on occasion.  There was only one way to confirm his fears, he had to look.  

As carefully as he could he pulled the afghan off of her.  She was curled up against him with her knees in her chest and her tail tucked between her thighs.  That wasn't good.  It was a common position for a girl with the condition he feared to sleep in.  Helps alleviate the discomfort.  He gently spread her knees apart, trying not to wake her.  She stirred a little, but didn't open her eyes.  Finally, he managed to move aside her tail.  

SHIT! 

Somehow his trembling paws managed to put her back into a dignified position and wrap her up in the afghan again without waking her.  He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer to himself.  She muttered something incomprehensible and opened her weary eyes.

“Waz the matter?”  She asked him.

Roger smiled at her, “Nothing, honey, go back to sleep.  We'll talk in the morning.”

She gave a small grunt in agreement and quickly dozed back off.  Roger didn't think he'd be able to sleep at all.  Not now that he knew the precious little creature in his arms was slowly dying.  

Part 2

Roger woke up with the morning sun glaring through the shade.  A Saturday morning cartoon was playing quietly on the television, something with feline robots in space.  He picked up the remote and hit the “GUIDE” button to check the time.  8:07 am.  He noticed that the show he was watching was actually called “Feline Robots in Space”. 

How original.  He thought to himself.

There was a clatter of dishes in the kitchen.  Roger set aside the remote and rubbed his eyes.  Somehow he had managed to get some sleep, not much though, he felt like crap.  His mind was foggy, there was a dull pain behind his eyes, and his lower lip still throbbed where Julie had bitten him.  He stood up and stretched.  The afghan tumbled to the floor.  His back was stiff, he had a cramp in his tail from sitting on it all night, and front of his clothes were all matted and damp.  Even his underwear was wet, and his groin was tender from it.  The shirt was a total loss, torn in several places and missing two buttons. He picked up the throw off the floor.  It was damp as well.  He draped it over the couch so it would dry.

Roger walked into the kitchen rubbing himself behind at the base of the tail to work out the cramp.  Julie was already in there, hunting around his kitchen.  The young ferret had found some clothes.  An extra large “Hello Beetle” t-shirt that went down to the young ferret's knees.  The fur on her head was mussed and sticking out in all directions.  

“Mornin' Uncle Roger.” She said cheerily, apparently having had a better nights rest then he did, “Where do you keep your spoons?”  She had already poured herself a bowl of Fruitie O's cereal.  

“They're in the drawer next to the fridge.”  He eyed the jug of milk on the table suspiciously, he wasn't sure when he had last bought milk.  He picked up the jug and read the expiration date.  The date was almost a month ago.  He picked up her bowl as well and took them both to the sink and dumped them in.  

“Hey!”  Julie was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a spoon looking dejected, “I was going to eat that!”

“Believe me, you didn't want to.”  He told her,  “The cereal is probably stale anyway.”

She put the spoon back in the drawer, “You don't have much to eat here do you?”

“Sorry, Baby, I don't eat at home much.”  He smiled at her, “Why don't we get cleaned up and go out for breakfast?”

“Alright,” she said turning to leave the kitchen, then she turned back to him with a hopeful look on her face, “Can we go to McDonald's?”

“We can go anywhere you want.”

She gave a little squeak in joy and ran toward the bathroom. 

“Wait!”  He called out to her, as he sat down at the table, “I need to ask you something.”  

He heard her let out an “Ugh” as she came back, she peek into the kitchen, “What, Uncle Roger?”

“How are you feeling, Honey?” 

Julie shrugged, “Fine.”

Roger folded his paws together and rested his muzzle on them, he regarded her sternly for a moment.  She shuffled nervously under his gaze.  

“Are you sure?”  He asked, “You know you can tell me if something is wrong, right?”

“I'm fine.”  She insisted without conviction, “Can I go get ready?  I'm really hungry.” 

“Okay.” He said waving her off with a smile.  He listened to her soft paws on the carpet as she retreated to the bathroom.  

She's not going to tell me.  Not that I blame her, why should she trust me?

Roger got up from the table and picked up the cordless phone.  He flipped through the phone book and found the number for the pediatrician.  Her parents had been using the same one that his parents used.  At least he was pretty sure they did.   

Julie popped back in the doorway.  Roger tried not to look suspicious.  Leaning on the open book and tucking the phone under his arm.  He failed miserably, but Julie didn't seem to notice anyway.  She looked worried and a little guilty.

“Uncle Roger, the floor is still wet in there, and the door won't stay closed.”

Roger smiled, he had forgotten about that.  “Don't worry about it, I'll clean it up.  You can use my bathroom.”

“Okay.”  Once again she turned away.  Roger waited a little longer this time before referring back to the phone book.  Hmm, 867-5309, that sounds familiar somehow.  He thought as he dialed.  

“Yes, I'll hold.”  He told the lady on the phone when she asked.  

Damn, it's Saturday.  They might not be able to get... Ooh, I like this song...  Just a small town girl, living in a lone-ly world.  Took the midnight train going aaanyyyywhere!  Just a city boy, born and raised in south De--

“Uh, yes, hello.  Did you you say Jenny?  This is Roger Geestee, I was wondering if you could squeeze me in for an appointment today.”

“Yeah, I know it's Saturday, but it's sort of an emergency.”  

“Well it's my niece, you see... I'm sorry, what was that?”

“I was hoping that I wouldn't have to take her to the ER, she knows you guys and this is a delicate matter.”

“It might be able to wait until Monday, but... Oh, I'm sorry, her last name is Kreejee”

“Yes!  That's her.  I was...”

“Thank you for your condolences, it's been pretty harrowing the last few weeks.”

“Yeah, he was drunk, the bastard didn't even get a scratch on him.”  Mother-fucking, crack smoking rattus didn't even fucking bump his shit filled head!

“No, she was at her friend's house at the time, she wasn't hurt.”

“Well, it seems that she's had a little visit from mother nature...”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is.”

“I don't know how many days, she won't talk to me about it, but I noticed some bruising on her ears and a little bit of od... I'm sorry?”

“Ye-”  NO!  Roger, you already told her that Julie didn't talk to you about it!  Play it off as a cough!  “Excuse me.  No, I don't know if there is any swelling.”  

“No, her fur seems fine.”

“Um, it's really hard to say.  I mean, I don't know how she's supposed to be emotionally right now with all things considered.  I think it's gone unnoticed because everyone expected her to be a wreck.”

“Yeah, that would be great if you talked to her to see if she's willing to see us today.”

“Yes, I can.”

Don't stop... belieeeving!  Hold on to that feeeliaang!  Street lights... peopleohhhhaaaaaaaa!  Don't stop... belieeeving!  Hold oowwwiionn!  Street lights... peopleohhhaaaaaaaa!  Don't stop... Belieeeving!  Street lights... damn, that fox can sing!

“Yes, I'm still here.”

“Twelve-fifteen?  Great!  Thank you very much, Jenny.  We'll see you then.”  He hung up the phone and set it down.  She's gonna be pissed if I take her to the doctor without telling her why.  Guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, in about four hours.

Roger fished out a sponge mop from the storage room next to the kitchen and took it to the hall bath.  He inspected the doorway.  The door itself seemed fine, the knob still turned, the latch still recessed smoothly, and the lock worked.  The jamb was a different matter.  A large part of it had splintered off, taking the strike plate with it.  He'd have to pry off that section of the jamb and replace it.  He picked up the broken piece off the floor and fitted it back in it's proper place.  Well, maybe I'll just glue it back.

He tossed the broken piece on the counter next to the sink.  He picked up the towel laying in the center of the room.  It dripped loudly on the floor as he held it aloft for a moment.  To hell with it.  He thought and tossed it into the bathtub.  Then he picked up Julie's bunched up wet dress off the floor.  Her stockings and undershirt fell out of it when he did, joining the wet panties next to the toilet.  He wrung out the black dress over the sink, and happened to read the label when he did: “Dry Clean Only!” 

With an exclamation point as well, figures.  

He tiptoed through the wet floor and hung the most likely ruined dress on the curtain rod.  He wrung out and did the same for her stockings and undershirt.  He examined the panties for a moment after picking them up.  Pink, with blue flowers on them.  He held them up to his nose.  Even though they had been soaking in a puddle of water all night he could still pick up that thick, odorless scent.  I can't believe I didn't recognize that sooner, I must be getting old.  

Julie's panties joined the rest of her clothes on the rod.  Roger mopped up the floor, wringing out the mop over the tub.  He frowned at the floor.  Looks like it soaked right through the grout, I hope the tiles don't pop up.

Having cleaned the mess in the bathroom as best as he cared to at the moment, Roger examined himself in the mirror.  He didn't look any better then he felt.  His fur was disheveled, his eyes were bloodshot, there was crusted blood in the fur under his slightly swollen lip, and his shirt was destroyed.  It was a button down shirt, but he didn't bother with the buttons.  He pulled it off over his head and tossed it in the wastebasket.  

He walked down the hall to his bedroom.  He could hear the shower running in the master bath.  Of course she's taking another shower, she's trying to get the smell to go away.  Roger thought.  At least I know she won't walk in on me at the moment.  He stripped off his damp pants and underwear and tossed them into the hamper.  He opened his dresser and picked out his clothes for the day.  Blue jeans and a black tee shirt that said: “Sarcasm, just Another FREE service I provide”.  

After snagging a pair of underwear from the bottom drawer Roger returned to the hall bath.  The door would shut, but swing back in a few inches leaving a gap he could easily see through, but there wasn't much he could do about it.  He set down his folded clothing next to the sink on top of the broken door jamb.  His most immediate concern was the cold air on a portion of his body that typically was very warm.  His penis was hanging out of it's sheath, semi-erect.  Julie had been on his lap most of the night and he had been exposed to the scent the entire time.  His body was reacting to it.  It was irritating for the sensitive organ to be out so long, rubbing against the wet clothing all night didn't help matters.  It was reddish in patches with a crisscross of swollen veins clearly visible under the semi-translucent skin. 

He had some ointment especially for such irritations, but it was in the other bathroom.  He opened the drawers under the sink to look for something else to use and found some petroleum jelly.  Not exactly the best substitute, but it would do.  He dabbed some on, all the while trying to work the penis back into the sheath.  

If the wind blows... it's like I'm fourteen again.

It turned out to be a losing battle, like trying to stuff a greasy eel into a teacup.  The more he tried to push it in the worse it got.  In short order he had a full blown hard-on.  He blew out a sigh of surrender.  There was really only one thing left that he could do.   

He winced as he gripped his tender penis in his paw.  The jelly had softened the pads on his palms somewhat, but it was still unpleasant against his irritated member.  There was a stinging sensation, like his paws hand tiny needles on them.  The discomfort didn't alleviate the erection at all,  if anything he could feel it grow harder.  He began to stroke.  Grunting slightly at the pain at first, but it became dulled in short order as he gained a rhythm.  He breathed in deeply through his nose as the sensation began to take hold.  

Roger quickly became aware that this was much different then an average bathroom toss.

He could feel the lust well up in him.  It was primal and powerful.  Churning in his midsection like a fire, then building into an inferno.  His nostrils flared and his breathing became quick and erratic.  The smell that he had found so difficult to place before seemed to waft off the panties hanging over the bath.  He instinctively licked his nose, heightening the sense.  He could almost see the fragrance in the air, a fine mist of thick, pink hunger.  It swirled in his head, speaking to him in a wordless language, demanding, pleading that he give in.  His lips curled back revealing his gleaming canines.  All the discomforts and pains in his body were forgotten.  His hips thrust themselves forward with every stroke.  He made low chit-chit sounds from deep in his chest, he couldn't suppress them.  

Somewhere in Roger's mind his higher conscience came to a realization.  If Julie walked in here right now I wouldn't be able to stop myself!  I'd just keep jerking off right in front of her!

Oh, fuck!  I'm almost there!

Roger nearly stumbled positioning himself over the toilet.  He pressed is free paw against the wall to steady himself.  It made a resounding thud as it made contact, echoing throughout the walls of the house.  The lid of the toilet was up, but the seat was still down.  There was no time to rectify that, he'd just have to try and aim better.  

He emitted a gasp that sounded terribly loud in the tiled bathroom.  That strange, but familiar mixture of pain and extreme pleasure took hold.  The muscles down his back all flexed in unison causing him to thrust forward as the orgasm forced its way through his delicate plumbing.  The first heavy spurt made an audible noise as it shot out, something between a snap and a pop.   It missed it's mark completely, splattering against the bottom of the upturned lid.  The second and third fared little better, each striking the floor on opposite sides of the toilet.  After that he gave up aiming, and closed his eyes to enjoy the moment.  

I've never seen such a load.  Roger thought when he opened his eyes.  He was panting rapidly.  He wiped away the saliva around his mouth on his arm.  Eat your heart out, Ron Jeremy.  His paw continued to slowly work at his penis.  Strangely he wasn't starting to get flaccid yet.  

Are you fucking kidding me?  He realized that he was on the upswing again.  

His second orgasm was far less intense then the first, but seemed to sap him of his remaining energy.  He leaned his back against the wall opposite the toilet.  Holy shit, that was the best ever.  That was better then real sex.  I felt like an animal.  He inspected the mess.  It was dripping off the seat, both inside and outside the bowl.  A large mass of it was slowly oozing down the lid.  It was on the floor.  It was on the side of the wastebasket.  There was even a glob on the shirt he had thrown into the basket.  Looks like a whole football team took a shot at it.

Roger looked at his paw, it was caked in the fur.  Gooey strands of it hung between the digits when he splayed them out.  He looked around for something to wipe it off with, the toilet paper didn't seem like it would have enough substance to do the job.  He snagged the closest available piece of cloth.  Julie's panties hanging over the tub.  

I can't even smell them anymore, weird.

The damp undergarment made short work of the white, viscous fluid.  He used it clean off his now docile penis, as well as the few gobs that somehow managed to get on his stomach.    He worked his penis back into the sheath, this time it stayed in obediently.  Yeah, you better be done.

He almost hung the panties back up, but realized that they had to washed now no matter what.  He tossed them casually into the tub with the towel.  Now he had a much larger mess to tackle.  I suppose I could just sop it all up with that towel, or maybe I could use the mop.  He looked at the mop leaning next to the bathroom door just in time to see a pair of blue eyes disappear from the gap between the jamb and door.

“Don't Stop Believing” and all rights to the words and music belong to Journey.  The author makes no claims to it.  (But you knew that already, and yes, in my world Steve Perry has a fox fursona.)

“867-5309/Jenny” and all rights to the words and music belong to Tommy Tutone.  The author makes no claims to this either.  (And why would I?)

Part 3

OH, FUCK!  HOW MUCH DID SHE SEE?

Roger heard Julie's pawsteps quickly retreat back to his bedroom.

“Wait!  Julie!”  Roger rushed to the door, snagging up his underwear from the sink as he did.  He stumbled out into the hallway trying to put on the garment while chasing after the kit.  He managed to get one leg in just fine, but missed with the second one, the claws of his paw getting caught in the material between the leg and tail holes  He crashed down onto the floor, coming down hard on his left shoulder.

“Fucking BITCH!” He yelped in pain.  He looked up the hallway.  The young ferret had paused at the doorway to his bedroom.  Her deep blue eyes were wide and terrified as she looked at her naked uncle on the floor, but under the terror there was growing hurt.  Her blond and brown fur was fluffed out from just having dried herself off after the shower.  She clung to the front of the white towel she had wrapped tightly around her chest.   Even from where he was he could see that she was trembling.  She sniffled.  Her face fell into anguish and her eyes watered.  She sobbed loudly and fled into the master bath.

“No, honey, I wasn't calling you a--”

The bathroom door slammed, cutting him off.  

Better you bite your own tongue off then ever say anything like that to her again, Roger.  He struck his fist against the floor in frustration.  The rest of your life.  You promised her.  You're no damn good at keeping promises, but don't ruin it on day one.  

 Roger rolled over onto his back and pulled his shorts up, tucking his tail through the proper hole.  He stared at the ceiling.  “I'm such an idiot.” He whispered.  He stood up, rubbing his injured shoulder.  It wasn't that bad, he'd probably have a bruise, but he'd survive.  He walked slowly over to the door of the master bath and stood there for a moment.  He could hear her crying.  A strong sense of déjà vu took hold.  

He scratched the door lightly.  “I'm sorry, baby, I didn't...”  He swallowed hard, he couldn't shake the feeling that he might not be able to make this right.  “I'm sorry.”  He repeated.  Julie only continued to cry.  He sat down on the carpet next to the door and leaned against the wall.  He could hear that she was also right next to the door on the opposite side.  So close, and he couldn't comfort her, couldn't hold her.  He didn't know what to say.  

Say anything, just talk to her.

An old memory came to him, and he began to speak.  Not too loud, but loud enough to be heard through the door.    

“Julie?  Did I ever tell you how I failed gym class?”  She didn't respond, but he hadn't expected her to. 

“I was a freshman in high-school.  Such an awkward, shy little kid.  I used to wear glasses, did you know that?  They were these giant round things on my face that magnified the size of my eyes, made me look like a nerd.”  He chuckled humorlessly,  “I guess I was.  I had all these zits.  Made my fur stick up wherever they were.  Couldn't hide them no matter what.  I tried using jell to flatten them out a couple times, but it just looked like a bunch of crusty clumps of fur.  They were everywhere.  On my face, shoulders, back, even on my tail.  They'd explode like little volcanoes of puss at inopportune times, like when I was talking to a girl I thought was pretty.  I'll tell you what, nothing makes a girl run away faster then one of those buggers bursting out of your fur onto her.”

Julie didn't sound like she was calming down.  Damn, that was pretty funny too.  Roger continued.

“Anyway,” He continued.  “The school guidance councilor had suggested I take gym my freshman year.  You know, get it out of the way.  It seemed like a good idea to me.  Wouldn't want to be a senior in a classroom full of freshman, that would have been weird.  So I scheduled the class.  I didn't think there would be any real problems when I walked into the gym the first day.  The teacher laid out the rules and told us what we'd need.  Sneakers, shorts, t-shirt, sweat pants, towel and a swimsuit.  This school had a big swimming pool, which I thought was so cool, my other school didn't have one.  Mom and Dad sent us to a private school all the way through junior high.  It was a small school, didn't really have much, but this public school had a pool!  At any rate, only a few students actually had all their gym supplies for the first day.  Nobody really expected we'd be doing much, and they were right for the most part.  The teacher showed us around the facilities starting with the gym.  The gymnasium was monstrous to me.  The private school used the gym as the cafeteria slash gym slash theater slash auditorium.  This giant public school had a separate room for all those things.  It was a different world.”

Roger rubbed himself behind his eyes.  The stress was starting to give him a headache.  Julie was still crying, maybe she had let up a little, but that might have just been optimism on his part.  He didn't even know if she was listening to him. I'm just pissing on a wall.

“When we went to see the pool was when I started to worry.  We had to go through the locker room to  get there.  This was a completely new thing to me.  The private school didn't have a locker room.  We just changed in the restroom.  We could use the stalls, so we had some privacy when changing.  Maybe that's why they call them private schools, I donno.  This locker room was big and open.  You had the lockers, and the long benches between.  Nothing else.  There was also a big room on one side they called “the shower”.  It was nothing more then a tiled room with shower heads all over.  We were expected to shower like a herd of animals.  I was horrified.  I thought, “Well, there's restroom stalls over there, I could change in one of those.” but the stalls were all without doors!  Shortly later I would come to find out that none of the stalls in the entire school had doors.  At least not in any of the boys rooms since the boys had busted them all off and the school gave up replacing them.  I realized I would have to go four years without using the restroom.”

Roger stopped.  

I can't do this.

He was just rambling, it wasn't helping anything.

I'm not cut out for this.

He couldn't just bust down the door, he was running out of bathrooms.

I'm just a kit in an adult body.

Not to mention it wouldn't help since she was afraid of him already.

I've always been alone, I've always wanted to be alone.

He wasn't sure what to do.

I CAN'T DO THIS!

“What happened next?” A meek voice asked from inside the bathroom. 

Roger closed his eyes, put his head back and smiled in relief.  He continued with his story.  “Well, we all went to look at the pool.  It was a big Olympic-sized pool.  The teacher told us some stuff that was probably important, like not drowning or something, but I couldn't pay any attention to him.  All I could think about was how much I didn't want to change in front of all these other guys.  I couldn't understand why it was so important to get naked with all these other people.  There were no other ferrets in my class.  There were a few weasels, a handful of rats, and two felines, but most of them were canines.  These guys were so huge and intimidating to me, especially the wolves.  God!  They were like giants!  I mean, everything was big on them.  It didn't help that I was small for my age.  I was terribly shy, and painfully embarrassed about my body.  I felt so scrawny and inferior.”

“The next day was our first real gym class, and we'd all have to have our proper gym clothes.  I accidentally left them at home.  At least that's what I told the teacher.  He sighed and told me he'd let me attend gym in my regular clothes today, but I must bring them in tomorrow.  Of course the next day I had conveniently “forgotten” my clothes again.  Went through the same routine with the teacher.  I managed to keep this up for the first week.  I thought I was so clever, but the teacher wasn't buying it anymore.  On the last day of the week, right before the end of class, he told me that if I didn't have my gym clothes on Monday I'd get a detention.”

“I was so mad.  How dare he force me to do something I didn't want to do?  I spent the entire weekend fuming and terrified.  I hadn't changed in front of the other guys yet, but I had witnessed enough in the locker room to know how they would be.  The smaller students were heckled mercilessly by the larger and older ones.  Wedgies were very common.  Some kids got them every day.  One of the boys... what the hell was his name?  Kent?  Kevin?  I don't remember.  He was a rat, I remember that much.  He got a boner one time.  Not that he was turned on or anything, at that age it just happens without reason.  He still had his underwear on, but one of the foxes noticed it anyway.  The fox says, 'Whoa!  We got ourselves a faggot here!', really loudly so everyone could hear it.  They all gathered around him, like vultures.  Jeering and demeaning him.  One of the wolves yanked down his underwear.  He's just standing there helpless, with his shorts around his ankles.”

“Karsten, that was his name, but he wanted everyone to call him Karl.  I guess he didn't care for the name.  After that time in the locker room it circulated that he was gay.  He was tormented endlessly.  A lot of the guys called him “fag boy”.  His parents found him hanging in his bedroom six month later.”

Why did I tell her that part?

“The whole time the teacher is in his office.  I mean, it's right next to the locker room, there's no way he couldn't hear what was happening.  He never came out, never said shit to them.  Like this is just normal behavior and accepted.  Maybe because he was also a wolf.  I knew I couldn't rely on him to protect me.  I had to protect myself.  If I showed up on Monday and changed in front of those guys I'd be fresh meat.  They had a week to torture the others, I would be new and interesting to them.  There was no way I was going to be humiliated like that.  The teacher could give me detentions until his face turned blue for all I cared.”

“That's exactly what happened.  I simply refused to comply.  The teacher gave me dozens of detentions.  Sent me to the principal so many times she gave up talking to me.  I got a fail mark for every day I didn't change.  The student councilor spent hours trying to convince me that I must change in front of everyone else, his reasoning was ridiculous conformist bullshit.  You'd think that the entire world would stop turning because one little kit was terrified that other people would see his weak, scrawny, ugly little body and make fun of it.  By the time the first semester was over I was removed from the class since it was obvious I wouldn't pass.”

“And that's how I failed gym class.”

There was a quiet rattle of the doorknob and the door opened.  Julie stepped out cautiously and looked down at Roger sitting on the floor in his underwear.  There were tears soaked into the fur on her cheeks, but she wasn't crying anymore.  She was still clutching at the towel wrapped around her.  

He reached his paw up to her.  “I'm sorry, baby.”

Julie took his paw in both of hers, held it to her wet face and gently nuzzled it.  “I know.”  

Roger furrowed his brow in concern.  “Did you... see what I was doing in there?”

She squeezed his paw tightly and averted her eyes.  

Ah, crap.  

“I'm sorry,” Roger apologized again, “I didn't mean to scare you.”

She looked at him with a wide eyed mixture of innocence and confusion, “I... I wasn't scared, I just... I knew I shouldn't have been watching, but I never... I was...”  Roger stroked her face tenderly.  He could feel the skin under her fur was warm and flushed.  Her eyes wavered with emotions she wasn't sure she could control.  The muscles in her jaw flexed as she clenched her teeth together.

“You were curious.” Roger finished for her.  She nodded slightly, and started to look like she might cry again.  He pulled Julie close and embraced her around the midsection, pressing the side of his face into her undeveloped chest.  “No, no.  No more of that, honey, you've done enough crying for a long time.”

The young kit sniffled, “You're not mad?”  

“I could never be mad at you.”  He could feel teardrops strike the top of his head.

“I love you so much, Uncle Roger.”  She pulled his head tightly to her chest, nosing affectionately through the fur on top.  Smelling him, caressing him.  Roger listened to the patter of her heart.  So fast  So frightened.

He looked up at her, “I love you too, baby.”

She smoothed back the errant fur on his head tenderly.  “I don't think your body is ugly.” She said in a voice so tiny it could barely be heard.

There was something about her face.  Difficult to describe, but only a fool wouldn't recognize it.  The breathless appearance.  The slight parting of the lips.  A small quiver in her brow.  That dazed, faraway longing in her slightly narrowed eyes.  Eyes that fluttered about, searching his face with abandon.  As if trying to carve it into her memory.  That moment, that instance in time when she understood without any doubt in her mind, heart, body and soul how she felt.

She's “in” love with me!  

Roger became transfixed by her adoring gaze.  He felt like something reached inside and touched the icy, emotionless barrier he had built around himself.  The barrier he had erected after so many failed romances and broken hearts.  It melted in an instant.  He felt open, exposed, weak.  She stroked his face lovingly.  In Julie's eyes was a simple request.  A dangerous request.  She wanted to be kissed by him again, and this time she wanted him to mean it.

Roger, there's a line.  Stay strong.  Don't cross it.

“You are so beautiful.”  Came blithering out of his mouth. 

What the FUCK, Roger?

He was going to kiss her.  At that moment he wanted it like nothing ever in his life.  Wrong or right.  For good or for ill.  No matter what happened next, or how far they went.  He pulled her closer.  She didn't resist and slid down into his lap to be cradled in his arms.  Her eyes closed indicating her willingness.

A loud, annoyed groan from Julie's abdomen shattered the spell.  The young ferret grimaced, put her paws over her face, and started to giggle to cover her embarrassment.  Roger blinked as he came out of the haze of desire.

“I guess you're pretty hungry.” He said with a chuckle.

Julie nodded, still covering her face and giggling.  

Roger helped her up out of his lap and patted her on the rump.  “Let's finish getting ready.  They don't serve breakfast all day at McDonald's, you know.  Just let me get some things from my bathroom.”  He stood up and gathered up his toiletries from the medicine cabinet.  Julie leaned on the frame of the door and watched him, observing the way his lean muscles moved under his fur.  Roger suddenly felt under dressed.  She hadn't even been staying with him for twenty-four hours yet and they were already getting more casual with their bodies then what was probably legal.  At least he had elected to wear the boxers instead of his skimpy briefs.  

Not that it really mattered.  No amount of clothing could cover up the fact that she had seen him in the throes of a sexual encounter with the commode.  

Having little to gather, just his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and body brush.  He almost took the ointment for his irritated penis as well, but he was afraid if he started fooling with his member again it would once more become unmanageable.  With his things gathered Roger got out of Julie's way and went back to the broken bathroom.  He could feel her eyes on him when he walked down the hallway.  He turned back to her before entering.  She realized that she was leering and fled into the bathroom.

How could she look at this face so longingly?  Roger wondered when he looked in the mirror.  He was still a mess with disheveled fur and dried blood around his mouth.  Picking at the corner of his eye, he removed some crusty goop.  He put a paw up to his mouth and breathed into it.  Ugh!  My breath could peel the bark off of a tree.  Good thing I didn't kiss her.

He wasn't going to shower, only a quick clean up over the sink.  He brushed his teeth, then scrubbed his face, head, upper body, and tail vigorously with a damp washcloth.  The body brush quickly tamed the unruly fur.  The supreme flexibility his ferret heritage gifted him with made it a simple chore to brush any part of himself.  In short order he was presentable enough to leave the house.  Then he took the towel from the bathtub and wrung it out.  He used it to clean up the mess on and around the toilet.  Later on he would have to scrub it down with some sanitizer, but for the moment out of sight was out of mind.  

There was a soft knock on the door.  It was still slightly agape, but apparently Julie had learned a lesson about peeking.  Roger stuck his head out.

“Honey, you're still not dressed.”  He noted the obvious.  She was still wearing the towel and looking unsure of herself. 

“Is something wrong?”  Roger asked as he stepped out of the bathroom.

She shuffled uncomfortably for a moment, “I think...I think there's something I have to show you.”  She unfastened the front of the towel around her body.  She hesitated for a moment.  Then said, “No, it's nothing.” And turned away.  

“You don't have to be afraid of me.”  Roger told her.

Julie looked back at him.  She didn't look afraid, she looked terrified.  She looked confused.  She looked small.  She looked alone.  A little girl who's entire world had collapsed down around her, and now her body was trying to betray her.

“Promise me you won't be grossed out?”  She asked uncertainly.

“Nothing you show me will gross me out.”  Roger promised.  Of course, she didn't know that he had already seen what she was about to show him, but it seemed best if he kept that to himself.

Julie took a deep breath and untucked the front of the towel again.  “Okay.”  She said quietly with a soft sigh.  She shut her eyes, opened the towel and displayed herself to him.

Roger could feel his body react upon seeing her.  The previous night there was overriding fear and sorrow and he didn't really see her nudity.  Now the soft, slightly sparser blond fur of the belly and chest, the pair of tiny pink nipples peeking through the fur, the subtle contours of a body that was beginning to develop into adulthood, it all resonated inside of him.  He felt like he was being pulled toward her.

It's the pheromones, Roger.  You can resist it.

“I don't know why it's like that.” Julie said hopelessly.  It was obvious what she was talking about, the labia around her vagina had swollen many times what it normally should be.  It looked like she was holding a pink, fleshy doughnut tightly between her thighs.  It may have confused Julie, but the instincts in Roger's body were screaming at him.  There was an overwhelming desire to touch it, to taste it, to do what comes naturally.  

No wonder she bit Mrs. Witherton's son,  he must have been following Julie around with a boner he had no clue what to do with.  I had forgotten how strong it can be.  Especially at her age.

Roger knelt down on one knee in front of Julie.  Partly to be eye to eye with her, and partly to cover the fact that his genitalia had grown a mind of its own again.  He took her by the shoulders.  She opened her eyes and looked at him with her big, sorrowful eyes.  Roger gave her his most reassuring smile.

“Honey, you're in heat.”

She didn't look like she fully grasped what he had told her.  

“Baby, didn't anyone ever tell you about sex and where cubs come from?  Didn't anyone tell you about puberty and your first heat?”  

Realization struck her face,  “Yeah, we had sex ed in school,” She said, but had an unconvinced expression, “It should have gone away by now, they said it only lasted a week or two.”

Of course.  She goes to a school that's mostly canines and felines.

“How long has it been like this?” He asked her.

“I think it started three or four days before the...the accident.”  Somehow she managed to say it without breaking down again over the loss of her family.

That's three weeks.  Fuck.

“Julie, you're body isn't like the rest of the cubs in your school.”  Roger explained to her, “When a young ferret kit goes into her first heat she stays in heat.  She has to go to the doctor and get a hormone shot to make it go away.”  There was another way to end the heat cycle, but Roger left that out.  “If you are in heat too long you can get very sick.”  He also left out the fact that it would kill her eventually if left unattended.  The massive amount of estrogen in her body would cause a number of complications.  The bruising he had noticed on her ears were one of the early signs that estrogen poisoning was taking place.  

“So... this is normal?” She said looking down at her vagina.

“Perfectly normal.”  Roger assured his niece.  

“It's so ugly.” Julie complained.

“I think it's very pretty.” He told her, “But it will go back to how it was after we get you that shot.”

She grimaced and closed up the towel again, Roger felt a pang of disappointment as she did so, “I hate getting shots.”  She said.

“It's only a little shot.”  Roger reassured holding his fingers about twelve inches apart.

She didn't get the joke at first and was horrified.  Then she saw his roguish expression.  “No!”  She said shoving him playfully,  “Don't tease me like that!”

“Okay, okay!”  He said through his laughter, he had to steady himself because she nearly knocked him over, “It won't be that bad, I promise.”

There was a moment of silence that passed between the two.

“You look relieved.”  Roger finally said to her.

Julie nodded, “I was scared.” She told him, then she leaned forward and asked quietly, “Will the smell go away too?”

“Yep.”  He assured her.  She seemed pleased with the answer.  She also looked like she was waiting for him to signal the end of the conversation.  He was still kneeling down in front of her giving the unintended vibe that there was more to be said.  Roger simply didn't want to stand up since the state of affairs in his pants would become obvious to her if he did.

“Go finish getting ready, baby.”  Roger told her, “We'll go see your doctor later today, but right now the biscuits are calling to us.”

She turned away obediently, paused, then turned back to him and kissed him on the cheek, “Thank you, Uncle Roger.”  She whispered in his ear before bounding off to the master bath.  

She finally looks happy.  Roger thought to himself.  Then he looked down at his crotch.  Damn.  I'm going to have to jerk-off again. 

To Be Continued...