The Line
By: 3timer

Part 4

The tires on his car screamed as Roger whipped out of the McDonald's parking lot.  He jerked the wheel hard to avoid a green pick-up.  The truck jammed on the brakes and blasted its horn as he careened past its front bumper.  He pulled the wheel the opposite direction and slammed the car into second gear as he crossed the road.  His tires momentarily lost traction and he entered traffic in a power slide.  A white minivan had to swerve into another lane to avoid him, fortunately the lane was empty.   “Shit!” Julie said as two of the egg McMuffins tumbled out of her lap and onto the floor.  Roger regained control of the sedan and jammed the pedal to the floor.  The car responded quickly, leaving the shaken drivers of the minivan and pickup behind.  

I don't need this!  Not today!  The speedometer's needle climbed past eighty miles per hour as he blasted by an eighteen wheeler.  The trucker blared his horn at him.  What the hell is the speed limit on this street?  Thirty-five?  I need to slow down. 

His speed dropped to forty just as he spotted a police cruiser pull onto road in front of him, lights flashing and siren blaring.  

FUCK!

Roger held his breath as the cruiser sped by the opposite direction.  He watched it in the mirror until it disappeared in the distance.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  

Good.  He didn't have the description of my car.  It was very nondescript anyway.  Common vehicle in an unassuming color.  Roger pulled into a parking lot, found a secluded place and turned off the car.  

Julie was practically bouncing in her seat. “That was awesome!  You beat the shit out of those guys!”

“I didn't beat them up,”  Roger defended,  “I just restrained them.”  

Bullshit, Roger.  You broke that wolf's wrist, and probably the fox's nose.

“And don't say that word,” Roger scolded,  “It's not ladylike.”

“You said it,” The young ferret defended, “You said way worse things back there.”

“That's different, I wanted them to know I was serious.”

There are some furs that have to train themselves to fight, and there are some who are just naturally good at it, Roger was the latter.  He had never taken a martial arts or self defense class.  Never studies boxing or wrestling.  Didn't learn any shady techniques on the street.  He just instinctively knew how to hurt others if the need arose.  Sometimes the need came up in odd places.

It wasn't exactly an everyday trip to a fast food restaurant.  Everything started out fine.  Julie and Roger went in to the crowded Mcdonald's.  Julie picked out a seat while Roger stood in line with a host of furs of varying species and patience levels.  There were few places with a more diverse mix of people then a fast food restaurant.  Furs tend to seek their own.  Pack and herd mentalities of ancient times were still strong.  Unlike classic restaurants that would serve either vegetarian or carnivore fare, places like Mcdonald's didn't differentiate between predator and prey customers, they catered to each equally.  Although predator and prey types did tend to stand in different lines and sit in different parts of the restaurant.  Prehistoric habits die hard.

The heavy set, middle aged badger lady in front of him made the best of the long line by engaging in small talk with other patrons.

“Is that your little girl?” She asked Roger.

“Oh, uh, no.  That's my niece.”  He told her.

“She's darling.”  She said waving to Julie, who gave a little wave back, looking a bit confused when she did.  Roger wasn't trying to be engaging, but it didn't seem to matter, “You know, I never had a little girl.  Five boys.  My little one, Howard, is about her age.  He's a football player you know, he plays running back.”

“Running back, huh?” Roger said, allowing himself to be drawn into the conversation, “He must be pretty quick.”

“You know, not really,”  The badger was a paw talker, her paws dancing around in dramatic fashion as she spoke, “But he's so strong that he just runs right over the other players.  You know what they call him?  The Steamroller.”  She laughed a bit louder then necessary, “Have you ever heard such a thing?  Steamroller!  I don't think it's nice, but he likes it.”  

“That's pretty amazing.” He told her.  A male fox in a business suit got in line behind him.  Roger could practically feel the impatience and stress pour off  the canid.  

“My oldest boy, Johnathon,” The badger continued with her one sided conversation.  “He's gonna get married next month.”

“You must be happy.”

“I don't know what I feel about it.” Her paws fluttering at the sides of her face,  “His fiance is a wolverine, I never did care for those interracial things.  He says he's in love with her and there's nothing I can do to change that.  If I wanna see my grandchildren I'll have to keep my mouth shut, but I don't have to like it, no I don't.  And you know all their children are gonna just look like wolverines, that's how it works you know.  They always look like the mama.”  

“That's true.” Roger agreed.  The fox behind gave an exacerbated sigh.

“I don't know,” The badger said, “When everything is said and done I guess I'll be okay wi--”

“Aw, comon!” The fox suddenly blurted out, “There's another register right there, why don't you open it?” He pointed to a fourth cash register on the end.

The normal din of conversation hushed and furs in the lines looked back at him uncomfortably.  The fox looked back at them indignantly. “What the hell do have to stand here and listen to this lady's problems for?”  He indicated of the badger,  “Just open another line so I can get out of here!”

A nervous looking young gazelle behind the counter spoke up, her uniform was different then the other employees, she must have been the manager, “I'm sorry, sir.  We're a little understaffed at the moment, and that register doesn't work.”

“How the fuck is that my problem?” The fox was practically in hysterics, “I have to be at work in fifteen minutes!  Get this shit moving!”

“Sir, we're doing the best we can.” 

“Your best isn't good enough!”  He nearly screamed, “I want to talk to your manager!”

“I am the manager, sir.” The gazelle pointed out the obvious.  

“You?” The fox seemed to be lacking in the comprehension department, “You're barely out of diapers!  Why would anyone make a kid, let alone a grazer, a manager?”

Roger had had enough.  A murmur from other furs in the restaurant suggested they had as well.  It was bad enough that the fox was completely unreasonable and vulgar, but to start throwing racial slurs at a young doe was beyond tolerable. 

“Why don't you shut the fuck up?”  Roger said to him with an even voice.

The fox shot him a menacing glare, “How dare you?  Do you know who I am?”

Roger met the glare with his own, “I don't care who you are, all I know is you owe everyone here an apology for having to share the same putrid air that comes out of your muzzle.” 

“How dare you?”  He repeated stepping in closer, trying to intimidate Roger.

Let's see what he's packing between his legs.  Roger thought to himself.

“The rest of us were having a pleasant morning until you walked in here and started vomiting your stupidity on us.  Shut up or get out!” Roger had a way of looking at others if he wanted to.  He was never sure exactly what it was, a glint glint in his eye, the way his brow furrowed, the flair in his nostrils, or the slight, humorless smile.  Maybe it was a combination.  It bordered psychopathic and stopped just shy of murderous.  The fox probably had twenty or thirty pounds on him and was doubtlessly stronger, but he cowed to “the look” nonetheless.  

“That's what I thought.”  Roger said as the fox stepped back.  

A castrated shit.

The fox backed toward the door, gaining courage as he did so.  “Fuck you!” He shouted at Roger, “Fuck you, asshole!” punctuating the statement by pointing at the ferret. Then he turned and slammed open the door as he left.  It was a small miracle that the glass door didn't shatter.  The fox shouted, “Fuck you!” Once more through the window before stepping out into the parking lot and very nearly getting hit by a white sedan.  “Fuck you!” He told the driver.

The door may not have broken when he left, but the tension in the store certainly did.  Several furs burst out laughing and the conversations resumed.  Roger felt a little uncomfortable with the approving glances that everyone gave him.  Julie was giggling uncontrollably.  Taking that guy on was out of character for him.  Usually he'd just let a dumb ass be a dumb ass.  Something in him wanted the fox to take a swing at him so Roger could bust his jaw.  

“Mmm-mnn.  That fox got out of the wrong side of the wrong bed this morning.”  The badger lady told him, “I thought you were gonna strike him.”

“Believe me, I really wanted to.”  

“Nobody would have blamed you.” She placed a paw on his arm, “I sure wouldn't have.  Can you believe that?  Calling that poor girl the g-word!  Does he kiss his mama with that mouth?”  Then she leaned in closer to Roger and said in a hushed voice, “You know what?  I bet he's a PreCog.”

Roger nodded in agreement and looked at the manager.  The gazelle looked shaken.  One of the other employees was consoling her.  As a member of a predator race Roger could only imagine what it was like for a prey.  For untold millennia they were a food source.  After civilizations rose from the prehistoric ashes the predators continued to consume prey races.  Even today there are some small holdouts in the world where it is still common and accepted that the intelligent prey are hunted and eaten.   Up until only a hundred and fifty years ago the same was true for the country where Roger lived.  Prey were slaves and food.  Then an age of enlightenment occurred.  Religions and intellectuals alike began to agree that the exploitation of the prey races was an abomination, thus The Articles of Sentience was born.  

The Articles was a guideline for which species were acceptable for exploitation by the predators and which were not.  It used both awareness of self and intellectual capacity to determine which species were off limits.  All mammals were protected under The Articles, the last to be added to the list being the bovines.  Strong political opposition from the beef industry kept them off even after aquatic mammals like whales, dolphins and porpoises made the list. Several species of avians were included, mostly parrots and macaws.  Raptors were already considered a predator species and didn't need the protection.  Chickens and turkeys, which showed no capacity for either self awareness or intelligence above animal are the primary food for most prey now.  Fish are a second as a food source, followed closely by insects.  As of yet no species of fish, reptile, or amphibian has made the list, even despite the fact that many of them could be classified as a predator.  Although there were some groups that claimed that The Articles were written by mammals, and as such couldn't judge species that had such an alien form of communication like fish, reptiles, or even insects.  Of course there were a few extremist groups that seem to want to make it impossible for carnivores to eat anything without feeling guilty.

While The Articles of Sentience did protect many species from becoming part of the food chain, it didn't go so far as to say that they were equal.  There was a movement by many predators to keep the prey “in their place” so to speak.  Having them in the job market was a threat, especially since a large part of the market that had been based on exploitation of prey was completely decimated.  In truth, acceptance of The Articles by a country did have an immediate adverse affect on the economy.  There were some countries that to this day were still trying to overcome these difficulties.  

Equality groups such as The Ungulate Order and The Foundation for the Progression of Herbivores fought for many years to advance equal rights.  Racist groups such as Predatory Cognition (commonly called PreCog) worked against them.  Openly at first, but as fur rights made huge strides in suffrage, equal rights, and the abolition of segregation, PreCog became unacceptable in polite society and was driven underground.  It survives to this day by using alternative media forms like the internet to continue to spread their message of hate and bring new members into the fold.  “If you mingle with prey you become the prey” is one of their more recognized slogans.  

Roger and the badger continued their small talk for the next several minutes until their orders were taken.  Despite the annoyance that the fox displayed the service was acceptable considering the amount of customers.  

During his preoccupation with placing the order Roger had missed the two young male canids as they came in the door.  A wolf and a fox, both mid to late teens and wearing varsity jackets from a local high school basketball team.  They nosed at the air once entering.  Their keen sense picking up something besides the fried food.  The wolf gave his friend a mischievous grin, and gestured towards Julie who was sitting patiently with her forepaws on her lap.  

“Here you go, sir.”  The manager said to Roger as she brought him the tray of food, “Thank you for taking care of that little problem, I gave you a little something extra.”

“Oh... well, thank you.”  Roger replied, noticing the two extra Mcmuffin sandwiches on the tray, “But that wasn't necessary, I kinda enjoyed it.” 

“Not as much as I did.” She said with a wink.

Roger smiled and nodded to her as he turned away.  The tray felt a bit tipsy with four sandwiches and two large orange juices on it.  He had to keep a close eye on it as he walked over to where Julie was sitting, so he didn't notice that something was wrong until he was nearly to the table.  Julie had chosen to sit on the bench side of the table, and the two canines had trapped her there by sitting on either side of her.  The wolf was stroking the fur on the back of her head as he talked to her and the fox had leaned into her personal space.  He found her scent extremely interesting. She looked at Roger with a “help me” expression, the two were frightfully intimidating to her.  

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Roger said, “But I don't believe the young lady cares for the attention.”

“Fuck off, pops,” The wolf said dismissively, not even looking at Roger, “I'm busy here.” 

“Yeah, get lost, pops.”  The fox agreed.

Pops?  

Roger furrowed his brow and gave a half smile, half grimace.  Any dignified varsity player should be trying to feel up one of the cheerleaders from school, or at the very least hung over in bed on a Saturday morning.

What the hell is wrong with everyone today?

“Pardon me,” Roger said to the family of lemurs sitting at an adjacent table, “Do you mind if I set this here?”  It wasn't really a question since he set his tray down before they had a chance to answer.

“Uh, sure.” The elder female answered, making it official.  Roger was still jacked up from the encounter with the first fox.  Getting disrespected by a couple of wet behind the ears cubs didn't help matters.  

“Listen you two dingbats,” He said, failing miserably to keep his voice calm, “I don't know if this shit flies at nap time in school, but out here in the real world there are consequences for being an asshole.”

Roger had the wolf's attention now.  He slowly stood up, probably expecting his larger size to frighten the ferret.  “Are you trying to start something, old man?”

“No,” Roger told him, “I'm going to end something if you two don't walk away.”

The fox burst out laughing.  “You don't really think you can take Tony, do you?  He's the captain of our team!”

“That and five bucks will get you a value meal here,” Roger said unimpressed, “With a small drink.”

Tony thought about it for a moment and decided he had just been insulted.   He moved closer to Roger.  The wolf's stature was impressive, over six and a half feet tall, probably better then two-hundred and fifty pounds.  He towered head and shoulders over Roger.  

The wolf jabbed his finger into the ferret's chest. “What the fuck ya gonna do now?”

No one ever protects their fingers.

Roger snagged Tony's digit and wrenched it back.  The wolf yelped and tried to throw a punch with his other paw.  The attack was sloppy, grazing the side of Roger's head.  The strike had thrown Tony off balance and the ferret used the opening to gain more control over his opponents arm.  Using both paws to twist Tony's wrist, straighten the arm and force it back up behind the back. Tony grunted in pain and there was a harsh grinding, like gravel, that Roger could feel in the wolf's wrist.  Roger stepped on the back of the knee and shoved him forward, bringing the giant down.  The wolf slammed down onto the table in front of Julie and the fox who both wore a nearly identical expression of dismay.  The sturdy, fast food table was bolted solidly to the floor.  The lack of give had knocked the wind out of the wolf and Roger could now control him with one paw.  

The fox snapped out of his shock quickly, “I'll fucking kill you!” He screamed bearing his teeth as he came over the table at Roger.  

Entering a fight face first.  Dumb.

Roger intercepted the attack by grabbing the top of the fox's muzzle with his free paw and pushing down.  The fox's center of gravity was thrown off and he stumbled over the table and fell down in front of Roger.  The fox flailed as he went down and managed to catch the ferret with a painful kick between the left neck and shoulder.  The fox continued trying to kick at him frantically from a prone position.  Actually striking his friend more times then Roger.  The wolf groaned feebly at each hit.  

Roger still had a firm grasp on his muzzle, he positioned his thumb across the front of the fox's nose and squeezed, “Stop that or you'll be eating through a fucking straw!” A canine's nose was the most sensitive part of its body, in more ways then one.   

“Ahh!  Ah!  Okay!  Dude!  Chill!”  The fox settled down, but Roger wasn't ready to let go of him or the wolf just yet.  

“Hey, honey,” He looked at Julie, “Are you okay?”

“Y...yeah, I'm fine.” She regarded him with awe.  

Roger glanced back towards the kitchen behind the counter.  The same manager that had given him the free food was on the phone.  It didn't take a genius to figure out who she was calling.  There was a hush in the restaurant, everyone was watching him, a number standing to see over the partitions.  Several patrons had their cell phones out and were either in the process of dialing or waiting for someone to answer on the line.  

I don't need legal problems right now.  Too many witnesses, too many stories that won't jive.

“Okay, baby,” He said to Julie, “We have to leave right now.  I want you to--”  

He sensed that something was wrong.  Out of the corner of his eye Roger saw the fox fumble in his jacket pocket and pull out something that reflected a glint of light.  There was an unmistakable metallic click of a switchblade.  

“Stupid FUCK!” Roger squeezed down on the fox's muzzle has hard as he could.  His thumb forced the nose out of position with a soft snap, blood gushed out of the nostrils.  The fox shrieked like an infant and the knife clattered on the tiles.  Roger had fury in his eyes as he squeezed even harder.  He wanted to kill this fox with every fiber of his being.  How dare he touch her?  How dare he pull a knife?

ROGER!  EASE UP!  HE'S JUST A DUMB PUP!

 Roger released him, leaving the fox squalling on the floor trying to clutch at his face but finding it too painful to touch.  Roger looked at his paw.  There was blood and snot dripping off his thumb.  For an instant, the paw seemed to belong to someone else.  Someone who couldn't control his base instincts.  He wiped it off on his jeans, leaving a glistening reminder.  

The wolf was regaining his wind, Roger glared at him.  The canine didn't look quite so large anymore, he looked like the cub he was.

“You so much as fart before I walk out that door I'm going to feed you your balls,” Roger hissed at him, “Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

True to his word, Tony didn't move when Roger let go.  The ferret gathered up his sandwiches on the paper place mat, forming a makeshift bag.  The family of lemurs had cleared away to a safer part of the restaurant when the fur started flying.  Someone nearby cleared their throat uncomfortably.  Another burst out into a short, out of place laugh.  

“Alright, baby, take these and...”  Julie wasn't next to him like Roger expected, she was still on the bench, leaning under the table,  “JULIE!  Let's go!”

“Coming, Uncle Roger.” She slipped something into the pocket of her hoodie jacket, Roger didn't really think about it at the moment.  He jammed an armload of breakfast sandwiches into her paws and picked up the two drinks.  

“Get to the car, quickly.”  He said leading her out.  The police response in this aria would be less then two minutes, three if he was lucky.  They ran across the parking lot and jumped into the car.  Roger jammed the drinks into the cup holders.  “Seat belt.”  He said putting his on and turning the ignition, Julie fumbled with the restraint device, having trouble doing so while holding the crude bag.  Roger reached over and snapped it in place for her.  

The window of the restaurant was lined with customers watching him.  Many of them had camera phones out.  If he pulled forward they could easily take a picture of his license plate and the police would simply show up at his home later.  His die hard habit of backing into a parking spot as opposed to pulling in forward had so far kept the plate hidden.  He looked out the rear view mirror.  The parking space behind was empty, but it was separated from his spot by a curb and ten  feet of landscaping.   There was some small shrubbery, but no trees directly behind.  His sedan wasn't exactly designed for off-road use but it couldn't be helped.

“Hang on.” He threw the car into reverse and jammed the accelerator to the floor.  The car lurched backwards and bounced over the curb with a horrific scraping noise.  The shrubs offered no resistance, the car ran them down unhindered.  The drive tires spat dirt and sod as they went over.  The car dropped off the opposite curb with more scraping of the undercarriage.  Roger had nearly lost control of the vehicle when the steering wheel tried to rip itself out of his paw.  He came only inches from tearing the side off a subcompact as he pulled through the space.  He felt something wet on his leg.  One of the drinks had fallen out of the cup holder and busted open on the floor pan at his feet.  Somehow Julie had manage to save the other one.

Roger had two rows of parked cars between him and the prying eyes of the store occupants.  It should be more then enough.  He gunned it out of the parking lot.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”  Julie asked him when they had parked afterward.  She was eating one of the Mcmuffins that hadn't fallen on the floor.  

“In the Army.”  He answered, eating one of the sandwiches that had.  It wasn't technically a lie, he had taken some basic paw-to-paw in boot camp, but it didn't teach him anything he didn't already know.  

“I never knew you were in the Army.”  

“It was before you were born.”  He explained, taking a sip of the orange juice.  They were forced to share it now that the other one was a sticky mess under Roger's seat.  He held the cup in front of his face for a second and noted how much his paw was trembling.  He was still jacked up from the encounter.  

She thought about it for a moment, “Did you ever have to kill anyone when you were there?”

Roger frowned, more death talk, “No.” Also not technically a lie.  He never killed anyone while in the Army.  In those days the military wasn't nearly as active, the world was far more peaceful, at least as far as the people in his country were concerned.  He had spent four years delivering food and medical supplies to third-world nations, with an occasional uneventful peacekeeping mission.  

He rubbed his shoulder where the fox had managed to kick him.  

Same damn shoulder I fell on this morning.  What the fuck is wrong with you, Roger?  You could have handled that situation better.  

He knew what it was.  It was that primal urge he had when he masturbated earlier in the morning.  Only this time it wasn't a need for release, but a need to assert his dominance.  

We think we've progressed so far.  Maybe deep down we're all still animals.

He looked down at the young kit sitting next to him.  She was watching him with concern.

Or maybe it's just me.

“Are you hurt?” She asked.

“Just a little battered.”  He told her, flexing his shoulder, “Nothing serious.”

Julie climbed into her knees facing him, “Let me see.”  She demanded.

“No, it's fine.” He said.

Julie would not be denied.  “You can't see your shoulder, let me look at it.”  She crawled onto his lap in a straddling position and tugged at his t-shirt.  Roger winced.  

“Wait, honey!  Alright, just stop pulling!”  Roger turned his head and pulled open the neck of the shirt.  Julie probed at his shoulder gingerly, carefully smoothing aside the fur so she could see the skin.  

“Oh, wow!  It's black and blue!”  She gasped, “He kicked you really hard!” 

“Yeah, I know.”  

“I'm sorry.”

Roger narrowed his eyes at her and smiled, “Why are you apologizing, baby?”  He asked, “You didn't kick me.”

“But it's my fault, it's because of my...”  She looked down at herself,  “...you know.”

“Those boys needed to be put in their place,”  He told her,  “Maybe now they'll treat the girls with some respect.  In a sense, I did them a favor.  Besides, I'd have fought their whole team for you, coach included.”  He tapped her lightly on the nose.

“Oh, yeah?” Julie said doubtfully, putting her paws behind his neck and moving in closer, “Would you win?”

“Of course I would,”  He said slyly, “There's no way I'm losing you.”  He poked her playfully in the ribs.

She gave a start, “Yah!  Don't do that!”

“Uh oh,” Roger said with a naughty grin, “Someone's ticklish.”  He raised his paws up in front of her slowly, wiggling his fingers.

“You better not!” She pulled away from him.  A car horn blasted, startling them both.  Julie looked around.

“Who's honking?”

“I think it's your butt.”  

Julie realized she had leaned against the steering wheel and dropped back down into her uncle's lap.  The horn ceased.  She buried her face in Roger's chest in humiliation and started laughing.  Roger chuckled and put his arms around her.  One of his paws fell on the back of her skirt.  Something felt wrong.  Missing, actually.  He put both paws on her rump.  

“Honey, why aren't you wearing any panties?”

Part 5

“What do you mean you can't see her?”  Roger asked the attractive cottontail receptionist behind the window, “Jenny, when I called earlier you said you could make room for her.”  

“I'm sorry, sir.”  Jenny explained, “It's just that by law, unless it's life or death, we can't see her without consent of a legal guardian.  I assumed you had already gone through the process.”

Roger ran his paw over the fur on the top of his head.  The lousy sleep he had the night before was beginning to haunt him.  He was getting groggy and irritable.  There was a prickly, sandy feeling in his eyes, making them want to tear up, and he knew they were becoming noticeably bloodshot.  He glanced back at the waiting room of the doctor's office.  It was empty except for Julie, who was amusing herself by getting the inhabitants of the fish tank to follow her finger around on the glass.  They must have seen that trick before, but for some reason still fell for it.  They nipped at the glass futilely.  

“I didn't even know I'd be taking care of her until yesterday.” He told the rabbit, “I won't be able to get anything started until the courthouse opens on Monday morning.”

And what a nightmare that is going to be.  A single guy trying to adopt a preteen female cub with no paperwork from the parents stating their wishes?  They're gonna drag me through broken glass and then make me eat it, especially after they ask me to prove my income.  

“Besides,” he said with a low voice, “She will die if she's not treated.”

“But she's not in immediate danger, sir.”

The inside door to the front office opened, “There isn't a problem is there?”  A familiar voice from Roger's past asked.

“No, Doctor, well, yes, it's just he doesn't have the legal paperwork,” Jenny told the voice, “We can't see Julie without it.”  

“We can't treat her without it,”  the voice corrected, “I will see her though.”  

Roger leaned into the window, “Doctor Ellis?”

The face of an elderly female gibbon peered around the door, he recognized her, even though her once black fur had gone mostly grey and white.

“Roger!” She said with a smile and then disappeared back behind the door.  A few seconds later the door to the lobby opened, the lanky form of the primate stepped out.  She approached the ferret.  He knew what was coming, Doctor Ellis didn't do handshakes.  

“My little sprout!”  She put her long arms around him and gave him a mighty hug.  “Don't make me do all the work here.”

Roger embraced her back as best he could, but nobody was better then Doctor Ellis.  Over the near forty years that she'd been in pediatric care her hugs had become a trademark.  She had perfected it like an art form.  

“That's better,” she pulled back, “Look at you!  You were so scrawny I was worried you'd never grow up!  You're a strapping adult now!”

Roger smiled, it was impossible not to feel good around this lady, “And you look-”

“Older?” She offered.

“I was going to say “beautiful”, as always.”  

“Doctor Huggies!”  Julie cried out as she ran up.  The gibbon's face lit up when she saw the young kit.  

“Buttercup!” The doctor scooped up the young ferret with the strength of a female half her age.  Julie threw her arms around the gibbon's neck,  “Oh, thank you, thank you!  I needed a big hug!”  Ellis told her.  

Doctor Ellis had a unique pet name for all of her patients.  She had always called Roger “little sprout”, his sister's had been “sunbeam”, and apparently Julie's was “buttercup”.  In return the children all called her “Doctor Huggies”.  She was one of those rare physicians that cared for all of her patients as if they were her own children.  

Julie settled in, apparently expecting to be held for a while.  Doctor Ellis obliged her, carrying the kit on her hip.  She put a paw under her for support and made the same discovery that Roger had made earlier.

“Why, buttercup!  Where is your underwear?”  She asked.

Julie looked embarrassed, “They kinda hurt me, they're too tight now.”

“Oh, that's right.”  The gibbon said,  “A little birdie told me that something very special is happening to you.”

“Uncle Roger said I'm..” She looked at her uncle then back at the doctor nervously, “...that I'm in heat, and I need a shot.”

“Well, I got good news for you, buttercup,”  Doctor Ellis told her, “I'm not going to give you a shot today.”

Julie brightened, “Really?”

“Nope, your uncle is going to wait here in the waiting room,” she looked at Roger and he knew that part was actually for him, “And you and I are just going to have a little chat about what's happening to you.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.” The gibbon reassured as she opened the door to the back and carried Julie through it.

Roger sat down and began to thumb through the magazines.  They were all either kids or “girly” rags, not a car or professional sports one to be found anywhere.  There were a number of activity books with the puzzles and games in them already done by someone else.  Mostly in crayon.  There was an old, worn out, joke book.  “1000 Funniest Jokes Ever” the threadbare cover promised, but the jokes were mostly infantile.  

Why was six afraid of seven?  Because seven eight (ate) nine!

I think I read this last time I was here.

There were a half dozen pages where some clever, and very persistent, crayon vandal had crossed out all the answers and replaced them with “Poop”.

What do you get when you cross a hen with gunpowder?  Poop!

Probably.

Roger set the mangled book aside and sat back in the chair.  He noticed a small, flat screen television on the wall.  That was definitely new.  It wasn't turned on though. 

“Hey, Jenny?”  He called to the window, “Does the TV work?”

The rabbit looked up from her paperwork, “Oh.  Yeah, it does.  I turned it off because you're our last patients for the day.”  She glanced around, found the remote and held it up, “Here, put whatever you want on.  We don't have cable, only local channels.”  

“That's fine.”  he said crossing the waiting room to the window.

“You're looking for a football game, aren't you?”

“You know it.”  Roger told her with a smile.  The early college games should have already started.  Jenny leaned forward as he reached for the remote, unconsciously giving him a clear view of the cleavage between her respectably sized breasts.  The ferret tried to avert his eyes out of politeness but failed.  She didn't seem to notice.  Roger snagged the remote and turned away quickly as his loins tried to perked up.  

There were two games on.  Neither had teams playing that Roger felt any particular affection for.  He switched between the channels to keep tabs on both games, eventually giving up on one of them when it became obvious it was going to be a blow out.  Twenty-one to nothing at the end of the first quarter was hard to come back from.  

Roger started to get a bit concerned for Julie halfway through the second quarter.  The two were having an awfully long chat, getting close to thirty minutes.  Jenny looked like she had finished up her paperwork and was preparing to leave.  She got up and walked into the back.  Roger was drawn back to the game.

“First and ten.  Harris takes the snap.  Got plenty of time.  Looking, looking.  Whoa!  Almost sacked for a loss!  Scrambling.  Big throw on the run.  Aaaaaand, intercepted!  Diving catch at the one yard line!  He's up!  Nobody's touched him down yet!  Bringing it back to the ten...fifteen...twenty...breaks a tackle and is driven out at about the twenty-eight!”

“Jim, that was number forty-three, Nick Ferris, who made that catch.”

“Big defensive play by the sophomore safety.”

“Big play, great read on the throw.  Very heads-up playing to get the extra yards.”

“Absolutely.”  

“Got some yellow laundry on the field.  There was a little bit of pushing and shoving at the end there.”

“The referees are going to break that up while we wait for the review of the play.”  

“Got three different refs talking to the review official there.”  

“They're jawing about something, Bill.  Not sure what.  Looked like a clean catch to me.”

“I think one of those flags was thrown for an illegal block at the end.”

“Oh, no.  That could spell disaster for the Hammerheads.”

“They really needed that break to turn things around, Jim.”

The lobby door opened and Jenny emerged.  She was putting on a coat.  “Doctor Ellis and Julie should be out in just a minute.”  Jenny informed him.  

“Thank you.”  Roger said.

Jenny moved to the exit and paused.  She decided to walk over to Roger.  The ferret stood up politely.  “I'm sorry for being such a hard ass.”  she told him.

“No, that's fine,” he reassured the rabbit, “You're just doing your job.” 

“I know the last few weeks have been tough for you and your family, I don't want you to think I'm being unsympathetic.  It's just that Doctor Ellis would gladly throw away her practice to help one of her patients, but she's too important to the community to allow that.”

She takes her job really seriously.

“You were one of her patients too, weren't you?”  Roger asked.

“ Since before birth.  She delivered me and my brothers.  Nonuplets, all healthy and grown thanks to her.”  She said this with a degree of pride.  Large litters are not unusual for rabbits, or even ferrets for that matter, but doctors usually recommend keeping them smaller since it greatly reduces mortality rates.  Hormone treatments plus the removal of at risk embryos generally keep the litters from one to three.  Though many couples still opt for natural birth for religious, moral, or personal reasons, which can result in litters up to twelve, but even with modern medicine the mortality rate can still be as high as fifty percent.  Not to mention the additional danger for the mother to be.

“She delivered my sister and I as well.”  Roger said.

Jenny grimaced at herself, “I'm sorry, that must have sounded insensitive.  I didn't really mean--” Roger put up a paw and waved her apologies off.

“Believe me, I wouldn't do anything to hurt Doctor Ellis.  I'm just completely out of my element here, I have no idea how to deal with this situation.  I needed a female's touch to handle this and Mom isn't quite herself nowadays.  I had no place else to turn.” 

“You must have had some experience with it,”  Jenny reasoned,  “You knew how to recognize the symptoms.  How did you handle it when your sister got her first heat?”

“I didn't really “handle it” per se.  Mom and Dad sent me to stay with Grandma and Grandpa for two weeks.  It wasn't until much later that I found out why.” Roger explained.  The ferret noted with a  measure of self-disgust that he had taken to telling a great deal of lies as of late, that recollection of events wasn't entirely true.  There were several rather -- interesting -- days before their parents had caught on and isolated the brother and sister.  Father had been working two jobs at the time, and Mother had been caught up in other affairs.  “Affairs” being the operative word.  Roger didn't feel the need to elaborate on why their parents had finally decided that it was time the siblings got separate rooms.  

Roger continued. “As to how I knew what was happening to Julie, nature kind of spelled it out for me in bold letters.  They say the first heat's the most intense and they aren't kidding.”

Jenny sat down with her purse in her lap.  A big pink purse with flashy rhinestones that didn't really go with the professional medical uniform she was wearing.  “That's similar to when it happened to me,” she started to reminisce, “It's not really the same for us as it is for ferrets like Julie.  Instead of heat we go into an almost constant state of breeding impulse.  When it first begins it's the most difficult, so Mother took me to a hotel leaving my father home with all the boys.” 

 Roger happened a glance at the television as he sat down next to her.  They were still trying to figure out the results of the last play and decided to go on a commercial break.  Roger was intimately aware of the “constant state of breeding impulse”.  He had dated a lop eared a number of years back on a wild fling.  It seemed dangerous and taboo at the time, just what he wanted at that stage of his life.  At one point in the relationship the bunny had decided to stop taking her birth control pills for some crazy reason that only made sense to her.  She became insatiable and ravenous.  The fact that they were too genetically dissimilar for him to get her pregnant had been one of the attractions he had to the relationship, that fact brought their relationship to a close when she actually became pregnant.  In the  end he decided it had been terribly unfair of him to demand a lepus waste any of her child rearing years on him. It was a hell of a time while it lasted though.

The rabbit continued with her trip down memory lane, not seeming to have the same misgivings about elaboration that Roger had, “I spent the entire time being an absolute bitch to her.  My mom was the last person in the world that I wanted to be around.  We argued so loudly that the other guests complained to the manager.  I remember being disappointed when the manager came to threaten to kick us out and turned out to be a female.  I wanted there to be a male around.  Had no idea why, I just wanted one nearby.  I kept trying to sneak out and go to the pool, the game room, or the exercise room just to try and be around a male.  Once the pills kicked in I evened out and we went back home.  It wasn't the same after that though.  There was so much testosterone there that even with the pills I would sometimes masturbate three or four times a d--.”

Wait, what?

Jenny went wide eyed, “Oh, god!  Why did I tell you that?”

“I have no idea!”  Roger said with a laugh, “But I'm really glad you did!”

Jenny put her face in her paw, “I can't believe I-- I just-- ugh!  Stop laughing at me!”  

“I'm sorry, I can't help it!”  Roger rocked in his chair, “That's the funniest thing I've heard all day!  If it makes you feel any better I've already done it twice today.”

“NO!” Jenny let out an exclamation somewhere between amused and horrified, “Oh...no, no!  You did not just say that!  That is so wrong!”

Roger giggled uncontrollably at her reaction.  She turned and smacked him in annoyance with an open paw.  Not hard, but unfortunately in the same shoulder that he had earlier fallen on and later got kicked.  His mirth ceased abruptly.   

“I didn't hit you that hard, did I?.” She asked after seeing him wince in pain.

“No, it's just that I injured this shoulder earlier,” he told her, “and apparently it's going to be a magnet until it heals.” 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she apologized, rubbing Roger's shoulder gently, “Do you need to have it looked at?”

“No, it's already been looked at.”  he lied.  The rubbing wasn't exactly helping, but Roger didn't see the need to complain.

The door leading out of the lobby opened up again.  Doctor Ellis and Julie emerged holding hands.  The doctor was still talking to her in a low voice and Roger couldn't quite make it out.  Julie looked like maybe she had been crying.  Roger noticed that the gibbon was carrying a white box tucked under her arm. 

“Looks like they're done.” Jenny said and opened her purse.  She appeared satisfied that what she was looking for was present.  “It was nice talking to you, if not altogether mortifying.”

Jenny stood up and once again Roger stood up politely.  It was an outdated chivalrous act to not remain seated when a female stands, but his mother had drilled it into his head when he was young.  Along with opening doors for females, chewing with his mouth closed and keeping his elbows off the table.  Some things just stick with you.

Roger was somewhat surprised when she gave him a hug, but considering her employer, he shouldn't have been.  It wasn't much of a hug anyway.  A lean-in hug where the boobs don't press too hard and there's no danger of accidental genital interaction.  

Ah, well.  She ain't into me.  She probably hugs her brothers with more contact then that.  Thought I had a chance here too.

“I hope things start to turn around for you and Julie.”  She said.

What?  Did you really think she'd offer to give you a “female's touch” with something else?  Suck your dick and make the pain go away?  Who wouldn't want to be your emotional sperm dumpster?

“I think we'll be okay.” Roger told the rabbit, sounding more assured then he felt.  “We'll figure it out.”

“Doctor Ellis probably wants to talk to you now.  Good luck!”  Jenny turned away to leave with a wave back to him.

“Thanks.  I'll need it.”

Damn.  Her ass is nice too.

Jenny waved to Doctor Ellis, mouthing “see you Monday” since she didn't want to disturb the doctor or Julie any more then she had to.  The gibbon gestured an affirmation that she understood.  The rabbit offered a silent goodbye to Julie as well.  The kit only eyed her suspiciously.  Jenny didn't seem to notice and swept out the door and into her weekend.

Doctor Ellis led Julie to Roger.  

“So... how'd everything go?”  Roger asked.

“Well, we had a little talk,” Doctor Ellis said, she stroked Julie on the back of the head, “and we had ourselves a little cry, didn't we, Buttercup?”  

The young ferret nodded.

“Could you sit down here for a minute, Buttercup?” The doctor requested, “I need to talk to your uncle. We'll only be a second.”

Julie obliged and the gibbon took Roger aside.

“She's been in heat for about a month.” She told Roger gravely, “Something has to be done soon, within the next couple days, or there could be complications.”

I was wrong about the time frame.

“Since it's an emergency, isn't there something you can do?  Can't you legally give her the hormone shot if that's the case?”  Roger reasoned.

“Yes, I could,” Ellis told him, “but that treatment only has about a thirty percent chance of taking at this point.  Even at the onset it only has an eighty percent, but you have time to attempt further treatments.  We don't have that luxury right now.  Normally the only course of action for heat that has lasted a month is to manually stimulate the ovulation.”

The medical terminology didn't confuse Roger.  He nervously glanced at the box she was holding.  The plain white container suddenly looked foreboding.

Doctor Ellis opened the box and displayed the contents.  “This is the device that we use in these cases.”  She removed a piece from the box.  It fit easily in her paw and had a white plastic housing.  “This is the motor.  It runs on four double-a batteries.” She clicked a switch and it started to hum. “It has an intensity setting on the side.”  She turned a dial up and down and the hum increased and decreased in response.  She clicked it off.  “There are disposable covers for the motor in the box.”  

She removed another piece.  It was sealed in a clear plastic wrapper.  It was a similar color to the motor, around five inches, the width of a pen, one end was flat and the other had a round nob that was about the thickness of Roger's pinky finger.  The nob was ribbed.  “This is the wand.  It's especially designed for ferrets her age, soft and flexible so it won't injure her.” She bent the wand as she spoke as evidence to that fact. It snapped back to its original shape.  “It's sealed, sterilized, and non latex.  Julie has an allergy, you know.”  

Roger didn't know that.

She turned the motor over and showed roger the corresponding hole in it.  “Remove the wrapper and press the flat end in here until it's snug.  You don't have to bring the wand back, just throw it away.”

Roger spoke up.  “Wait, um, you're sending this thing home with me?  Can't you just take care of this here?”

“Yes, I could,”  she told him, “but patients are usually more comfortable doing this themselves at home.  Plus it has to be done twice a day until visible signs of heat start to subside.”

The ferret bit his lower lip and furrowed his brow.  “Twice a day?” he repeated uneasily.

“At least twice a day, and it's best if she achieves full stimulation.”

Why can't doctors talk like real people?  They don't teach the word “orgasm” in med-school?

Roger looked at Julie across the waiting room.  She had found the remote and was surfing the channels on the television.  The chair she was sitting on was high enough that her hind paws didn't reach the floor.  She swung her legs back and fourth with pent up nervous energy.  Despite Doctor Ellis' good nature, Julie was probably getting eager to leave.

At this point, so was Roger.

“I know this is tough,” the gibbon said with empathy, “but it has to be done.”

“Well, at least you already talked to her about this, so that's a good --”  Roger caught a hint of guilt in the doctor's face. “You did talk about this, right?”  

Doctor Ellis smiled apologetically. “I'm sorry, but I can't take all your responsibilities from you.”

Roger put his paws on his face, mussing up the fur on his muzzle. “You're killing me here!”

“You'll get through it,” she told him, “I have confidence in my little sprout.”

“That makes one of us.”

Doctor Ellis returned the items to the box and closed the lid.  She looked back at Roger with a new seriousness.  “And how are you doing?”

I'm doing fucking great!  I get to teach my niece how to masturbate with a wand!  Presto!

“The last few weeks have just been a nightmare.  I don't even think it really set in yet... for either of us.  It's like I'm waking up from a dream, but I'm still dreaming.”

The doctor nodded her head.  “I can imagine, and I'm terribly sorry, but that not really what I was asking.  Julie told me that you got into a fight?”

Oh, shit!  Did she tell her about the kiss?  About my “full stimulation” in the bathroom?

“Yeah, I'm feeling a bit more... um... masculine then normal.”  He admitted.

“That's perfectly natural.”  She told him.  “Usually I would suggest that you keep your contact with her to a minimum, but things being what they are that's not an option.”  The doctor pulled out a pen and prescription pad from her jacket and began to write.  “This should take the edge off and keep you within normal range.  Take it once a day, two times if you really need it, but no more then that.”  She ripped off the sheet and handed it to him.

Doctor Ellis put the pad and pen away and pulled out a business card.  “This has my cell phone number on the back, I'll have it with me all day tomorrow.  If after twenty four hours you still feel too “masculine”, call me right away and we'll try and figure something else out.  At any rate I expect to hear from you first thing Monday morning with an update.”

Roger took the card and flipped it over to confirm that the number was there.  Then he looked at the prescription.  Unlike most doctors, Ellis had neat, flowing paw-writing that was easy to read.  He was alarmed by what she had prescribed to him.

“Won't this stuff chemically castrate me?” He asked.

“In larger doses, yes,” she admitted, “but these are only five milligrams.  Trust me, it will help.”

“Alright.”  He relented, feeling horribly unsure.  He let out a deep sigh.

“Not what you saw yourself doing this weekend, is it?”  Doctor Ellis asked.

Roger chortled, “No, not in my wildest dreams.”

The doctor handed him the white box.  He took it tentatively, as if she was handing him a box full of vipers.  

“One other thing,”  Ellis said, “Julie was talking about getting back to school, poor thing has been away for weeks.  She seems to expect to be going back on Monday, but I'm sure you know the policy on cubs in heat.”

“Yeah, they aren't allowed on the grounds.  For their own safety and they're too much of a distraction.”

“Right,”  The doctor said, “Even if she takes well to the manual treatment, we're talking at least six to ten days for the cycle to complete.”

“She's going to have homework out her ears.”  He mused out loud.  Roger had carried in several suitcases and a backpack that felt like it was full of bricks the night before, so he knew she already had a pile of homework with her.  Somebody must have been picking it up for her.

Add contacting her school to the list of things to do Monday morning:  Check.

“Now then,” Doctor Huggies said clasping her paws together, “do you have any questions before you leave?”

“Just one:  Did she happen to mention what she wanted for her birthday?”

Part 6

Roger set the box with the “medical device” and the bag with his prescription on the kitchen counter.  Glaring at the box with contempt.  

I'm really not ready for this.

He opened the cupboard and removed a tumbler.  Crossed back to the refrigerator and opened up the freezer.  Two ice cubes clanked into the crystal cup.  Roger may not have kept a lot of food in the house, but there was one thing he always had on hand.  It's not that he was an alcoholic, but there are times when you simply need a drink.  This happened to be one of them.  He retrieved a bottle of scotch from his pantry, filled the tumbler halfway and knocked it back in a single slug.  Not even giving the ice time to do their job.

If one is good, two is better.

He refilled the glass.  This time he swirled it noisily before taking a drink.  It was much better cold, but he still wasn't feeling any braver.  He set the tumbler and bottle of scotch aside for the moment.  Roger opened the bag and dumped out the pill bottle.  

“Do not drink alcoholic beverages when taking this medication.” The label said.

Whatever, they always say that.  

Roger opened the container and shook out a pill onto the palm of his paw.  They were tiny little white nothings.  About the size of the nitro pills furs with bad hearts carried around just in case.  He popped it into his maw and washed it down with the scotch.  

Bye, bye, boners.

 Roger looked at the pamphlet that was stapled to the drugstore bag.  It warned of drug interactions and gave a laundry list of possible side effects.  Among them being infertility, excessive intestinal gas, diarrhea, constipation, loss of bladder control, difficulty urinating, gynecomastia, reduced body fur, loss of muscle mass, mood swings, mild burning sensation in the genitals and prolonged receding testes.

And sperm... and dignity... and everything that makes me a male.

It also cautioned to discontinue use and see a doctor immediately if any of the following rare side affects occurred: Blood in urine, blood in semen, blood in stool, dizziness, severe chest or abdominal pain, severe pain in testes, migraines, blurred vision or blindness,  hives, excessive loss of body fur, difficulty breathing, or a cough accompanied with bloody mucus.  

Wonderful.

Roger picked up the glass again and sipped from it.  The alcohol probably wasn't such a good idea.  Not only because the instructions advised against it, but he was already tired and it would relax him even more.  He looked at the clock on the microwave, it was barely two-thirty.  He had hoped to swing by his mother's house and check on her before returning home, but it would be impossible to leave without getting invited for dinner.  “Swinging by” would have taken four hours at least.  He just didn't feel up to it.

Besides, Julie was mad at him for some reason.

He's not sure what he had done, but ever since leaving the doctor's office she wouldn't talk to him beyond a shrug or short, muttered responses.  She didn't even say if she was hungry when he asked.  When they got home she went right back to his bathroom again.  She wasn't taking another shower, she was just in there doing God knows what.  It's obvious that she's upset about something.  He was reluctant to go knock on the door and see if she was alright since it getting to be the better part of their relationship to converse through a latrine door.  

Then it occurred to him maybe that's what she was expecting.

Jeez, girls can be a pain.  She's probably sitting in there just waiting for me, and getting madder as she sits.  As if I'm supposed to be able to read her mind.

Roger set the glass down hard.  Some of the amber liquid splashed onto the counter top.  Now he was starting to get a little miffed.  

Roger was startled by a ringing phone.  His paw instinctively reached into his pocket for the cellular.  No surprise to him it wasn't there.  It was the land line that was ringing anyway.  He reached for the cradle to find the cordless headset was missing.  

I just used that fucking thing this morning, where the hell did I put it?

The caller ID on the cradle/charger showed that it was work calling.  In a spot, the cradle could be used as a speakerphone.  Roger pressed the button.

“Hey, Steve.”  Roger said into it. 

“Yo, Roger!”  The voice on the phone sounded breathless, but Steve always sounded like that. “Haven't been able to get ahold of you for days!  You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm good.  I dropped my cell on the driveway the other day and broke it.  Haven't had a chance to get it replaced.”  Roger was curious.  “I didn't know you had this number?”

“Oh, uh, I called your emergency contact and got the number from your mom.”  Steve admitted.

“You didn't tell her where you were calling from, did you?”

“No, no, man, I kept it vague.  Just told her I was from your “work” and had to get in contact with you.”

“Good, thank you.”  Roger said with relief.  “Hey, I saw you sent flowers to the funeral yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah.  I can't take all the credit.  A bunch of us here got together to get something.  We put it in my name and figured you'd put two and two together.”

“Well, I appreciated it.”  Roger told him.  “You guys didn't need to do that, thank you.”

“Bro, you're like family.”  Steve said, “It's not a problem.  Besides, Jordan insisted.  Said it might score points with you.”

Roger chuckled, “That dog won't stop barking up this tree.”

“You know how he is.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“So, uh... you know when you can come back?” Steve got down to business.  “I don't wanna sound unsympathetic, but I got customers asking for you and I've been feeding them shit, ya know?  That crap your family had to go through has been in all the papers.  I tell them anything and they might figure it out.  I know you don't need that, but, bro, I got four fucking parties scheduled tonight and you know another one is just gonna waltz in unannounced.”  

Roger grimaced.  “Bachelorette or bachelor?”

“Both, man.  Big money if you can get here.”  

“Yeah, um, the thing is that I got a new situation.  It make take a few days to get sorted out.  Plus I'm tired as hell.  Didn't sleep very well last night and I got up at eight.”  

Steve pressed the issue.  “Look, things won't get really geared up here until nine at the earliest.  I'll tell you what I'll do.  I'll save a few slots for Ramiro el Ladrillo for ten-thirty on.  Take a nap, see how you feel in a couple hours.  If you decide you want them, give me a call at nine or so and I'll slide you right in.  I got to tell you, a night like this you could make a grand in just a few hours easy.  I'd hate to see you miss out.”

Roger sighed.  That was a load of shit.  Nobody makes that kind of cash anymore, not in this economy.  Steve must be having staff issues.  Roger liked him, but the guy had a manipulative streak in him a mile wide.  “All right.  I'll think about it.  Either way I'll call you at nine.”

“Thanks, man.  I'll talk to you later.”

“No problem.  Goodbye.”  Roger pressed the “talk” button again and hung up.  The promise of money didn't really have much impact on him.  He had a fair sized nest egg that he had been saving for a number of years, he could get by comfortably for quite a while without working.  Still, he hadn't been to work since the accident, it would be a nice distraction to go in for a few hours.  He just didn't know what he would do with Julie while he was gone.

Ah, fuck.  She's still waiting for me in the bathroom isn't she?

Roger left the kitchen and made his way to his bedroom.  He found the door to the master bath open.  When he looked inside Julie wasn't there.  He went back into the hall and noticed one of the other bedroom doors was closed.  It was the one he had converted into an office.  Without considering whether or not the kit was decent he opened the door.  The night prior Roger had hastily pulled out an inflatable bed and set it up in the office with the intention that it would be for her.  She was clothed, and sitting on the edge of the mattress and quietly sorting through the garments in her suitcases.  

“Hey, baby.”  He said.

Julie didn't look at him.  “Hey.” She said back glumly.

“Are you okay?”

Julie shrugged.   

“We can make this room your bedroom.”  Roger entered.  “Would you like that?”  

“That's fine.”  She said with a sniffle, she had been crying again.  

Roger set himself down on the edge of the mattress, careful not to sit too hard and bounce the girl.  She turned away slightly, a none too subtle cold-shoulder.  He gave a sigh and looked around.  “We could paint this room purple if you want.  Drag out the desk and put it in my room.  Replace those old closet doors with mirrored sliding doors.  Maybe some new carpet and a ceiling fan.  Get you a real bed with tall posts on the corners.”

She didn't reply.  Only busied herself meticulously rolling up a pair of knee-high socks into a ball.  

He continued, “On that wall we could chain a skeleton or two.  Then we could paint the window black so the sunshine can't get in.  Over there we could put an iron maiden, or perhaps a guillotine.  You know what?  I think an executioner's ax would look great over the door.  I hear that brings good luck.  Oh!  And lava lamps!  Lava lamps everywhere!” 

“I saw you.”  She said to him, ignoring his attempt at humor.  “I saw you with her.”

Ah, there it is.

“You mean Jenny?  At the doctors?”  Roger asked.

“You like her, don't you?”  Julie accused.

“She seems nice.”

Julie pulled her knees in close and hugged them.  “She's all grown up, she has big breasts, and she's pretty.  I don't blame you if you like her more than me.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I know you would rather be with her then a little kid like me.” She reached into a suit case and pulled out one of her training bras.  “This thing is a joke.”  She said tossing it onto the floor.

Roger picked up the bra.  It was made from a white, smooth satin.  It had a pleasing texture between the pads of his paw.  Maybe it was an unnecessary garment for the young ferret.  

“You're right.”  He told her.  “I do like Jenny, I would be lying if I said I didn't.”

Julie finally looked at him, she wore a glare of anger.  Roger met it with a, cold, even expression which evaporated her anger into something closer to dismay.  Before she could throw some form of emotional tantrum, or attempt to claw his face off, Roger continued.  

“But I love you.”  He said to her with emphasis.  “Baby, I told you “for the rest of my life”.  I promised you that.  I won't let a rabbit with big knockers, a couple of dumb basketball players, or even a busted bathroom door break that promise.”  

He took her paws in his own.  “I'm sorry, but you're stuck with me.  Remember?  We pinkie swore.”

Julie had tears brimming in her eyes.  She smiled and said, “We did, didn't we?”

“And you're not a little kid anymore.  That's the reason we had to go to the doctor today.”

“I still look like a little kid.” She said.

Roger grinned.  “I know the secret to getting your boobs to grow,”  he said in a low voice, “but you can't tell anyone.  It's an ancient technique handed down in our family for generations.”

“Really?”  Julie said with naive interest, “What is it?”

Roger motioned her to get closer and she leaned in.  He whispered into her ear.

“Tickles.”

“What?  NO!”  She squealed as Roger grabbed her and tossed her into the center of the air mattress. Roger pounced on top and started to grope and poke her ticklish spots with wriggling fingers.  Julie laughed, squirmed and tried to cover them but she had to many and her uncle kept finding them.  Roger was careful not to be too aggressive, but Julie wasn't making any serious attempts to get away.

“Oh, look!”  Roger said as he carried on, “They're getting bigger already!  Let's see if we can make them double Ds, that should only take an hour or so!”

She writhed and bucked,  “No, no!  Uncle Roger!”  She gasped and laughed.  “They're big enough!”

Roger stopped before it crossed the line from simple playfulness to borderline torture.  He was on his forepaws and knees over her, still loosely keeping her trapped.  She looked at him breathlessly and giggling, her arms tucked in tightly with her paws under her muzzle.  Protecting herself in case he decided to apply more “ancient technique”.  

“You're mean!”  She said teasingly. 

“And you're still not wearing panties.”  Roger said with a smile.

Julie looked down at herself.  During her struggles her skirt had hiked itself up to her belly.  She was  lying under him spread eagle and completely exposed.  She snapped her knees together and yanked the skirt back down.  As she did she winced and let out a little moan.

Roger stroked her head comfortingly.  “It hurt when you closed your legs, didn't it?”  He asked her.

She nodded.

“Doctor Ellis gave me something that will help.”  Roger told her.  “Wait here and I'll go get it.”

Part 7

“I knew your breath smelled funny.”  Julie said.  She was standing in the doorway of the kitchen looking pleased with herself.  She had unraveled the mystery of her uncle's funny breath.  Roger's first inclination was to try and hide the bottle for some reason.

You're an adult, Roger, you're allowed to drink.

“You found me out.” he said forcing a smile.  The glass was sitting next to the box the good doctor had given him, he couldn't resist a little more liquid courage.  “It helps me to relax sometimes.”

“Are you nervous?” she asked walking into the kitchen and leaning onto the counter next to him.

OH GOD, YES!

“No, no.  Not really.”  Roger took a sip from the glass.  It had been sitting on the counter for a while with ice in it.  Condensation had gathered on the outside of it.  Water dripped down the front of his shirt.  He tried to brush it off futilely and Julie giggled at him. 

“You think that's funny, huh?”  he said wiping the glass off with his paw and flicking the sweat onto the front of her blouse.  

“Hey!  That's not nice!” She also brushed at it uselessly.  

Roger chuckled, “It's just water.” 

Julie harrumphed in that particularly adorable fashion that only young girls can manage.   She watched her uncle take a drink of the scotch.  “Can I try some?”  She asked.

“Honey, you won't like it.”  

“I just want to try it.”

“You won't like it.”  Roger repeated with more conviction.

“Pleeeeeease?” she begged as she bounced up and down and tugged at his arm.  Another one of those adorable things that young girls excel at.  Roger was having trouble resisting her.

“Your--” Roger bit his tongue.  He almost said “your mother would kill me” but managed to catch himself in time.  He felt a stab of guilt that he had put the death of his sister far enough into the back of his mind that he almost made the slip-up.  He glanced at Julie.  She had picked up on his sudden change of expression.  Before she could put two and two together he said: “Alright, you can have a little bit.”

Let's get this parenting thing off on the right foot.  Don't forget to get her a pack of cigarettes too.  Whatever it takes to avoid talking about the vibrator in the box.

Roger pulled a shot glass down from the cupboard.  It was an old shot glass he happened to get when he was younger.  Back when he thought bar-hopping was a fun pastime.  It had a whimsical saying: “Find Em. Fuck Em. Forget Em.”.  He decided it wasn't so much whimsical as it was vulgar and picked out another glass.  One with a tiny captain on it.  Wasn't the same drink the little guy was advertizing, but Roger didn't think the captain would care. 

Julie looked disappointed, “How come I get such a small glass?  It's like a baby glass.”

“That's what you drink this with.”  Roger told her.

“Yours is bigger.”  

“That's because I'm drinking it with ice.”

“Then I want ice too.”

Roger sighed, walked across the room and opened the freezer.  He plunked one ice cube into the shot glass.  It barely fit.  “Better?”

She shot him a feigned mean look.  “That's not what I meant.”  

“I'll tell you what,” He said as he poured the shot, “If you can drink this I'll give you a bigger glass.  Deal?” He handed her the drink.

“Deal.”  Julie said taking it from him.  Roger watched her gingerly test it with her nose.  She giggled at him.

“What?”

“I'm just watching.”  He told her.

After some trepidation she took a sip.  Her reaction was comical.  She grunted in surprise with a mouthful of scotch, waving her free paw in front of her face.  Unwilling to swallow the swill but not sure what to do with it.  

“Spit it in the sink.”  Roger said.

Julie ran over and spit out the scotch.  “Yuck!” She turned on the water, cupped her paw under the faucet and splashed some into her maw to rinse it out.  She spit that in the sink too.  “I'm never drinking that stuff again.”

Roger chuckled and took the shot glass from her.  “My life would be so much easier if I could believe that.”  He dumped the remainder into his own glass.  “The juice boxes we got at the drug store are in the fridge, they probably aren't cold yet but they'll get the taste out of your mouth.”  

As Julie retrieved the drink Roger looked at the box.  He picked it up and held it for a moment, as if judging its weight.  “Baby, there's something I need to show you.  Why don't we sit down on the couch so we can talk?”  

“Sure, Uncle Roger.”  She said poking the straw into the box and taking a sip.  “Ugh!  Now everything taste bad!”  

“Yeah, it does that.”  Roger agreed as walked into the living room with his niece lagging behind.  He sat down at the end of the couch and set the white, nondescript box on the end table.  Contrary to his fears, snakes did not jump out of it.

“Is that for me?”  Julie asked as she brushed her tail aside and sat down next to her uncle.  

Roger nodded, “Yes.”

“Can I open it?”

“Not yet.”  He said.  He reached for her and brushed a paw across her forehead, pushing the long fur on the top of her head out of her face.  His black fur was a stark contrast to her blond fur.  He felt a slight disconnect between his paw and his body, a sure sign the alcohol was starting to work it's magic.  Julie looked a bit confused but she tolerated the affection.  

“Your great-grandmother was blond too.  Although, I don't remember her like that.  Her fur had gone white, but she still had those piercing blue eyes.  So full of wisdom.”  Roger told her.  “It's a recessive gene in our family.  Most of us are black-footed ferrets, black and gray fur, maybe a little bit of brown, but every once in a while a special one is born.  One like you, with blond fur and blue eyes.  An innocent, little miracle.”

Innocence to be taken away by a fucking machine.

“You're acting kinda weird, Uncle Roger.”  Julie said and took another drink from the juice box.  

“It's probably this stuff.”  He said jingling the little remaining ice in his tumbler.  He set the glass on a coaster next to the box.  “I'm pretty tired too, let's blame that.”  

The kit giggled, “You need a nap.”

“Yeah, I sure do, but we have to talk first.”  

“Okay.”  Julie said looking at him expectantly.  

Dive right in, Roger.

“Honey, what did they teach you at school about sex?”  He asked.

Julie looked flustered almost immediately.  “Oh, um, well.” She nervously took a sip of juice.  “Just that, you know, the, uh male's penis goes into the female's vagina.”

Roger sat without saying anything and Julie realized that she would have to expand on that.

“And, well the male squirts this stuff into her and then she can have a baby.”  She said.  

“Is that it?”  Roger asked her.  

“They said you can get diseases and stuff from it too.  And they showed a video where this lady put a condom on a banana.”  Julie offered.

Roger nodded as he listened to her.  Sex-ed is no more educational then when I was in school.  Here's the basics, figure the rest out in the back seat of a Ford.  

“Did they teach you about masturbation?”  

Julie looked at him blankly.  She shook her head.

Roger hesitated for a moment, “Remember what you caught me doing in the bathroom?”  

Julie squirmed a little. “Yes.”  

“Sometimes when a male feels the urge to have sex, but can't, for whatever reason, they will do that.  It's called masturbation.”  He explained.

“It looked like it hurt.”  She said.

“No, no.  It's actually quite pleasant,” he said, “but it can be a bit intense with the proper, uh, motivation.  Which would explain the strange expressions you probably saw me make.”  

“You looked like you were mad.” Julie told him.

“I was kinda lost in the moment and, um, I didn't know that you were...” Roger trailed off.  Julie might have found this whole conversation uncomfortable, but he was feeling completely humiliated.  His heartbeat was up and his fur felt far too warm.  He wanted to take his shirt off and cool down but that would only make everything even more awkward.  

“Was it because of me?” Julie asked.

Roger raised his eyebrows.  “What?”

Julie was looking at the juice box on her lap, fiddling with it as if it had suddenly become very interesting.  “Was it because of me that you wanted to have sex?”  

Roger could feel the chorus of pores open up on the back of his head and down his abdomen.  If he loosened his collar he thought for sure a comical puff of steam would come out like in a Saturday morning cartoon.  “Well... I...”

Julie looked up at him.  Her eyes held a strangely hopeful expression. 

I should lie to her, but I don't think I can.

“Yes.”  He told her.  It came out easier than he expected.  

Julie bit her lower lip and returned her attention to the juice box.  This wasn't the direction that Roger had intended the conversation to go, but since he stepped in it.

“Does that upset you?”  He asked her.  

“No.” Julie replied quickly.  “It's just... I don't know... I just...”  She furrowed her brow. “It's wrong, isn't it?  To feel this way?”

“Honey, feelings aren't wrong or right, they just are.  It's what you do with them that can be wrong.”

She thought about that for a moment, still concentrating on the juice box.  In a low voice she asked: “It would be wrong if we had sex, wouldn't it?”  

Holy crap!

“Wh- Yeah, um, you're my niece, that's a line that shouldn't be crossed.”  Roger told her.  There was a part of him that felt a twinge of pain as he said it.  Words can be spoken, but physical desire still exists no matter what is said.  The only small consolation was that he wasn't sporting the expected raging boner, even though he could feel the arousal in his body.  That little white pill really did the trick.  

Julie squeezed a box a little, some of the red liquid spurted up the straw and onto her lap.  A small stain appeared on her skirt.  She didn't notice, or maybe she didn't care.  She wanted it just as much as he did, he could read that much in her, even if she wasn't entirely sure what it was.  Roger felt guilty having to reject her, but it was better this way.  If they gave into desires, if they cast aside their discretion, they would come to regret it.

Wouldn't we?

Roger took the juice box from his niece and set it next to his own drink.  He was already behind on the laundry and that red stuff was almost impossible to get out of clothing.  Julie pulled her legs up onto the couch and snuggled in closer to him.  He put an arm around her to allow it.  She gave out a little sigh.  Maybe he imagined it, but it sounded like a disappointed sigh.  

“So what's in the box?” Julie asked.  

“Well, uh.”  Her uncle picked up the plain white box.  “Doctor Ellis gave this to me for you.”

Julie took the box and flipped the top open.  She looked at the contents for a moment and picked out the white motor.  After turning it over in her hand a few times she found the on/off switch.  She turned it on and nearly dropped it as it hummed to life at full power.  

“What is this?” She asked with some measure of revulsion.

Roger took the motor from her an switched it off.   “This is a device used for girls with your issue, so you can fix it yourself.  What's happening is that your body is demanding that you have... intercourse, this will trick it into thinking that you actually have.  It's how females, um, masturbate.  It will stimulate ovulation and your body will go back to normal.”

“I don't understand.”  Julie said.  “How does it work?”

Roger picked out the “wand” from the box, unwrapped it, and attached it to the motor as the doctor had shown him.  “This goes on here and you... um... you turn it on and, uh, you insert it into your pu- I mean vagina and--”

“NO!”  Julie cried out in horror and recoiled from the device.  “I'm not going to... that's just... NO!”  She threw off her uncle's arm and fled the couch.  The box in her hand tumbled to the floor.  The wrappers for the motor and a bunch of what looked similar to small ketchup packets fell out.  “Sterile Lubricant Jelly” was printed on the foil packets.

“Baby, please don't--”

“NO!”  She screamed and stomped down the hallway.  Roger got up and followed her.  

“Honey, there's no other--”

“I WON'T DO IT!” She was heading for the master bathroom again.

Chasing my niece through the house with a mechanical penis.  Not what I was expecting to do today.

“Honey, can we just--” He was cut off as the bathroom door slammed.  

For fuck's sake. 
 
 Roger sat back down in the same place outside the door he had in the morning.  There was that sense of d éjà vu again.  

I'm so fucking tired.