[b]Toxic[/b] He sighed, head tilted to one side as he tried to use the weight of his own antlers to pop the tension out of his neck. He had those same antlers to [i]thank[/i] for all the strain back there, after all, so it was only fair they do their part to fix the problem. After a faint pop brought some small relief, he pulled the key from its little hook behind his belt as he approached his own front door, bracing just slightly for what was on the other side. The house had felt cold and dark for a long time now. Even fully lit, it was still missing anything his eyes wished to linger on, so he left just the neon mood-lighting on dim at all times, enough not to trip on things as he moved through the rooms. Even with the sound system cranked up to eleven, nothing it could play moved him much, so he just left some low jazz on day and night to prevent the quiet growing to oppressive levels. The heavy-antlered Elk never would have imagined the presence of one woman could effect him so much...much less her absence. “Here we go,” Ian sighed again, sliding the key into its slot... His entire demeanor transformed, ears up and on the alert, stance loose and ready to react to anything. Usually there was a tell-tale “crunch” when he returned home, as the thin rod of graphite he left in the keyhole was crushed. Ian’s first chore every time he came back was cleaning out the lock, keeping it fresh for the next day. This time, the key slid in smoothly without even that hint of resistance. Someone else had entered his house while he was out. Someone might still be inside. The Elk cautiously opened the well-oiled door just a little, without stepping through, and reached for the little table beside it instead of the light-switch. Only after he had his hand on the gun rigged to the underside of the drawer did he finish pushing the door open, taking a cautious step through as he drew the weapon. The intruder had not been subtle. Every light was blazing. The music had been changed to some trendy new pop-nonsense he had no tolerance for. An empty container on the little kitchen table, visible from the front door, announced he was out of his favorite jelly dessert, too, like the intruder was deliberately taunting him. Ian silently added three more punches to the tally he intended to give this idiot’s nose when he caught them. But first to make sure it was legitimately an idiot. With the kitchen clear at a glance, he took three slow, long steps into the living-room, careful to place his hooves quietly on the vinyl floor, and turned the corner toward the hallway quickly with the gun leveled— “[i]Holy goat-ass FUCKERS, Ian!![/i]” shrieked a dishearteningly familiar female voice from the other end of the weapon. “What are you doing?! It’s [i]me!![/i]” She’d jumped when he rounded the corner and pointed the gun, but at least kept the presence of mind not to bolt. That would have cued him, on a now-instinctual level, to pull the trigger. She ought to know. “Woman, I almost just shot you again,” the Elk grunted as he straightened up and relaxed his stance, lifting the weapon to point (mostly) non-threateningly at the ceiling. As he turned back to hide the gun again, Ian pointed out, “It’s my house. The question is, what are [i]you[/i] doing here, Ilza?” The hefty Grizzly huffed, quickly shoving two more spoonfuls of ice-cream into her mouth from the tub in her other hand, theoretically to calm herself. “You gave me a fucking [i]key[/i]! [i]Excuse me[/i] for thinking that meant I could drop by any time.” “Half-right,” the Elk nodded, though she could only see his antlers bobbing from behind the refrigerator door as he checked to see how much stock she’d left him. “I told you to call me before you come over. And put some clothes on,” he added in a sharper tone, “A woman shouldn’t just be sitting around naked in a man’s house. Even you should know that.” He’d only seen her for a brief second looking down the sight of the gun, but that had been more than long enough for a full flash of her even fuller figure. “As if you could tell whether or not I’m wearing underwear,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and finished swallowing her ice-cream. “The rest is in the wash. Nothing here you haven’t seen before, and liked plenty, so I think you’ll live until they’re done,” she grunted, taking a seat on the couch and folding her legs up under her round tummy, where they seemed to disappear entirely. It was difficult even to see the dimple in her figure where her breasts hung above her belly. The tubby Bear’s fur was uncommonly thick (and just a bit on the shaggy side) even for her Kinship, making it legitimately difficult to tell when she wore anything that didn’t cover a substantial amount of surface. Ian sighed, closing the refrigerator after estimating he had enough food to last until he could go shopping tomorrow. She’d mostly cleaned out his meager supply of desserts. Aggravating, but barely an inconvenience. “I can, and you’re not,” he declared confidently, then repeated “What are you doing here? And how much trouble are you dragging in behind you?” He leaned against the frame dividing the kitchen from the living-room, looking perturbed as he waited for her reply. Elizabeth shook her head, working her tongue over the spoon [i]thoroughly[/i], as if she’d be held personally responsible if even a single smudge of ice-cream was left to dry on the silver surface. Satisfied she wasn’t getting any more flavor off of it, she dropped it into the empty tub and dropped [i]that[/i] on the coffee table. “None at all. Boyfriend’s been out of town for a couple of weeks, I let my apartment go last month, and I’ve already exhausted all my girl friends’ welcome. I just need a place to crash for the night. Now is that too much to ask?” The Elk rubbed his long face with a fresh sigh, and resisted the urge to point out that it was, in fact, too much for [i]her[/i] to ask of [i]him[/i], specifically. “...Okay, it’s late already, and I’m not the sort who’d kick a girl out in the dark. But you remember there’s a fee for you to spend the night here, right? I’m going to get a shower, and then you can pay me.” The Bear looked mildly disgusted by the thought, but huffed, “Fine. But don’t make me wait long. I’m tired.” Ignoring her complaint, Ian made straight for the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he went. No, they were nowhere near strangers to each other’s bodies. They’d seen more of each other than either of them ought to have. They’d known each other since middle-school...and he actually would have called her a friend back then. A good one, even. High-school had seen them get serious about relationships, and each other. Then things changed. She went to college. He got a job. They broke up, kept in touch, hooked up again, hated each other within a month, and broke up again. Lather, rinse, repeat far too many times. He ought to know better by now. The hot water rolling down his antlers and back helped his mood somewhat. Ian [i]had[/i] given her a key, well after their last break-up. She [i]was[/i] welcome to come back to his place — temporarily — always. They weren’t good for each other. He’d definitely learned that much. But she tended to have a poor taste in men, and he was her shelter when things went sideways. He tried not to think about what that might say about him. Try as he might, Ian couldn’t leave an old friend and first flame in a bad situation with a clear conscience. So he’d settled for putting a price on the shelter, so to speak. The towering Elk didn’t bother to pull on clothes after he got out of the shower, but did take the time to dry himself thoroughly. He couldn’t stand the smell of his own fur when wet, and wasn’t about to inflict that on anyone else, even if he was put out with her. A dab of cologne and he was satisfied he could live with himself for the night, and pulled open the bathroom door without a care. She wasn’t in the living-room when he went to find her. He had a suspicion, but went to check the laundry-room first. In typical fashion, she’d left her things in the wash to sour overnight, so they’d need a second wash in the morning and she’d have an excuse to stay longer. He moved the load to the dryer (and well noted the bra and panties, confirming what he’d known), then strode down the hall to his bedroom with his hooves thumping heavily on the floor to announce his approach. Elizabeth was already under the plush blanket, rolled up on the side of the bed she used to favor, breathing the slow, deep breaths of sleep. Or she appeared that way, at any rate. Ian knew better by now than to buy the act. Leaning against the doorframe, he sighed, “The parasite settles in [i]before [/i]paying for her stay? How predictable.” The Bear couldn’t resist a light snort into the pillow. “Yeah, well, so are you,” she retorted, rolling fully onto her belly and lifting her plump bottom under the blankets, giving it a little shake. “So are you just gonna stand there pretending you don’t want a piece of this, or...?” Ian’s frown deepened as he moved to the foot of the bed below her heels, and rolled the blanket down from her offered tail. Elizabeth just kept hugging the pillow underneath her as the massive Elk climbed onto the bed, astride the back of her thighs. “Don’t get into the wrong hole, now,” she smirked. A sharp slap rang out in the room, and she couldn’t suppress a startled yelp as he left a clear hand-print on her tush, kept invisible only by the virtue of her shaggy fur. Ian really, really hated that smug look of hers. “My exact words,” the Elk frowned, “Were ‘[i]when[/i] you stay the night, I [i]will[/i] fuck your [i]ass[/i]’. Not ‘if’, because I know you. And not ‘pussy’, for the same reason.” Crossing his arms over his powerful chest, he asked in a low, warning tone, “Do you remember it differently? Because if you do, or if you’re hoping to squirm out of paying, I will throw you out on the sidewalk right now. Hang the dark.” “Yeah, yeah,” the Bear hissed through her grit teeth, shaking her rear more to fan the heat out of it than tease him this time, “It’s got nothing to do with you loving tail. I remember—!” He popped her again, and she bit the pillow to muffle her yelp and hide her smile while he grabbed two fists full of her shaggy fur and hauled her into a proper position. Under better circumstances, she might have praised him for being one of the very few people in this town who actually [i]could[/i] move her in any way against her will...but right now it was probably best not to point that out, as the one and only woman he [i]would[/i] do that to. She’d burned him enough over the years that his principals no longer applied to her... Part of her, that she was silently telling to shut the fuck up, reminded her that was her own fault, and she had no right to complain. She never should have slept around on him. She knew back then that he was the straight-laced type, loyal to his girl and expecting the same of her. She’d wanted to make him jealous, that first time. Now, she was pretty sure she broke his heart instead. Nothing between them had been right ever since. But he’d never — permanently — thrown her out. He’d taken her in every time she came looking for a place to crash. He’d cowed her exes into leaving her alone when one or two proved too possessive for her to handle. Somewhere in his heart, she thought he must still have a tiny flame flickering for her, to even give her the chance to string him along like that. Of course, he was about to do his level best to make her [i]stop[/i] believing that. Now, most people would find this method something of a chore with her: her butt was big, and very round...not unappealing, but it created a lot of depth between the surface and the target, so to speak. And she usually hated it. Ian suspected he, personally, had a great deal to do with that last fact, but that was precisely what made this a “price” to be paid instead of an invitation to come over any time she felt horny. Spreading the soft cheeks just a little, Ian had to part some of the fur between them to find her dark little hole, still clenched subconsciously against his intrusion. The towering Elk laid his equally towering dick along the cleft of her rear, teasing himself to erection by hot-dogging her for a few minutes. This had long been his preferred method with her, despite her distaste for it, even when they’d mostly gotten along. Her other side was, frankly, too shallow for him. Most people were, to be honest. The backside was better for him...but he understood it wasn’t always so pleasant for his partners. Ian was thick as well as long. He hadn’t even bothered to ask his last couple of girlfriends for it...except... The thought that almost crept in at that moment dampened his temper for all of a second...and then a clear look at the Bear lying under him, barely suppressing her breathy chuckles at his hesitance, irritated him even more than when he’d first come to bed. He gave her practically no warning, drawing back far enough to nest his tip against her compass and plunging through. Elizabeth bit her lip and stifled a groan as he plowed in, almost halfway down the full length of his shaft before he had to adjust his grip. “Charming as ever,” she rolled her eyes. “Shut it,” Ian growled, compressing her cheeks as he hauled back on her hips and pressed his weight in. She didn’t taunt him anymore as he set in on her like he was trying to shove her out the door by her ass. That might actually be what he was fantasizing about, with his eyes squeezed shut even more tightly than hers were. The roughness in how he handled her actually reminded Elizabeth of a time when she’d let him do this just for fun (and he still bothered to grease up). It was actually kind of nice being pushed around...back when things hadn’t been so bad between them. She’d hardly had a boyfriend since then that could do more than jiggle her soft curves, but when it came to Ian... Elizabeth grunted into the pillow, wincing in time to the sound of the slap of his hips on her butt, and the feeling like her insides were being plumbed for a clog. “Not that this [i]isn’t[/i] the best sex I’ve ever had,” she grunted, “But are you nearly—?!” She groaned as she felt it, finally. Ian leaned in hard against her, fully sliding her face against the headboard before she could catch herself, and the warm rush inside her relieved a strange kind of itch she got whenever they did this. It also helped make things a little smoother when he finally pulled out. The weighty Bear continuing to lay on her belly for a while, trying hard not to let a mess leak out onto the bed. It didn’t matter which side it was: he’d make [i]her[/i] sleep in it if she dripped any, and her shaggy fur would [i]not[/i] thank her for it in the morning. “Alright...you butt-loving...bastard,” she huffed between deep breaths, “Tab...all paid? You...want a tip?” She clenched once, “winking” her tail-hole at him. Ian rolled onto his side at the edge of the bed (she encroached a good bit into the middle) and didn’t bother to argue. He did think it was ironic to be called that by a woman who still occasionally whined that she’d never known who her father was, though. It wasn’t just that the guy hadn’t been around: she’d literally never been told his [i]name[/i]. Ian could hardly imagine what he must have done to turn Elizabeth’s mother that bitter about it and, for a long time, Ian had cited that fact to excuse her disrespectful attitude. The Elk spent a quiet moment catching his breath, already feeling his eyelids getting heavy. Sex was better than melatonin to him, though he could stave it off long enough to make sure his girlfriend was satisfied, whenever he had one. Gemini had deliberately established a bedtime routine that closed on his climax, to help him get a good night’s sleep. Forgotten gods, he missed that Dog... Sighing tiredly at that thought, Ian heaved himself up one more time to fetch the blanket, which he spread over Elizabeth first before sliding under what was left on his side. [hr] The smell of scrambling eggs pulled Elizabeth from the bed before her eyes even opened. The scent of fresh coffee and honey-buttered toast led her mindlessly to the kitchen like a bee drawn to pollen. She was already seated in one of the chairs at the little kitchen table before one eye peeked open to find the blurry shape of Ian standing at the stove, briskly shuffling the skillet to evenly mix the salt, pepper, and a sprinkling of his own favorite seasoning through the eggs. He was already dressed for work, in a crisp set of slacks and a fresh button-down, minus only the usual tie. As Elizabeth’s sleepy vision cleared, she saw the carefully tailored shirt still seemed to strain a little at the seams each time he moved, revealing the definition in his shoulders and back more than clothes like that should be able to. The Bear caught herself thinking he cut quite the figure, and that she wouldn’t mind waking up to a scene like this every morning… Ian divided the eggs between two plates, and Elizabeth winced, her momentary vision utterly shattered when he all but dropped the plate in front of her, right next to the fork he’d laid out beforehand. He was a little more gentle with the coffee mug, at least. Silence stretched between them until Elizabeth cleared her throat. “So, uh…” She hesitated, her voice unusually soft. “I know I complain a lot, but…last night was actually pretty good, you know? I always seem to sleep well at your place. Thanks for letting me stay.” Ian took a long, thoughtful pull of his own coffee. “You always say that.” She smirked, but dropped it quickly. “Yeah. But I mean it.” The Elk across from her continued eating, letting her talk. It was a familiar conversation. Despite her habit of staying up excessively late, the Bear was a morning person (even if her “morning” didn’t usually start until after noon), and had a tendency to wake up a little ahead of her attitude. Give it an hour and she’d be back to her usual, self-interested behavior. Elizabeth polished off her eggs, and stirred a little sugar into her coffee with an almost wistful smile. “...If I asked if we could try again, would you laugh at me?” Ian’s sigh was heavier than he liked. This, too, was a familiar conversation. And somehow, it still got him, every time. “I’d ask if you’ve lost your gods forgotten mind,” he growled as much to himself as to her, then quickly finished his food and got up to set his plate by the sink. She nodded slowly, having expected something like that. “That’s fair.” The toast followed the eggs, and she sipped her coffee while staring out the little kitchen window as if the world outside was suddenly interesting in some way. “I was a real piece of shit to you, back in the day,” she admitted softly, almost as if she hadn’t meant to. That was probably the most honest thing she’d ever said to him. Ian didn’t react immediately. He wasn’t quite sure how [i]to[/i] respond to it, honestly. Leaning back against the sink, he took another long sip of his coffee...and finally just nodded. “Yeah. You were.” Her smile turned to a smirk. “And you’re still bitter about it, huh?” The Elk set his mug down with a quiet clink. “You [i]betrayed[/i] me, Ilza,” he reminded her, “To this day, you’re the only woman who’s [i]ever[/i] done that.” “And yet you still let me stay over anytime I swing by. I’m safer here than with some of my actual boyfriends,” she noted with a shrug, “Can’t be that bitter, I guess.” It took nearly all the self-restraint the massive Elk possessed not to remind her there was a gun under the table just five feet to his right — by pointing it at her. A man doesn’t threaten a woman. A man holds his temper. That’s just what it means to be a [i]man[/i]. ...Elizabeth was a vanishingly rare exception. “It’s time for you to go,” Ian grunted coldly, gathering the rest of the dishes to wash while he still had a measure of himself. With a lazy, self-satisfied stretch of her arms, Elizabeth agreed, “Yeah, I guess it is,” and went to fetch her clothes from the dryer. A few minutes later she was fully dressed, and was just reaching for the door when a loud knock came from the other side. Ian arched a suspicious brow while Elizabeth snuck a glance through the peep-hole…and took a quiet step back with an anxious look. Ian closed his eyes with a grimace. “Let me guess…” Elizabeth winced, but nodded, and Ian’s jaw clenched subconsciously. He couldn’t even honestly say he was surprised at this point, just irritated with himself for believing her so easily last night. “So, uh...listen, Ian—” the Bear started quietly, but Ian cut her off with an involuntary sneer as he dried his hands, then marched past her to yank the door just halfway open. A wiry Coyote with bleached fur and a frown nearly as annoyed as Ian’s stood there with his hands stuffed into the pockets of a designer hoodie. “‘Scuse me,” he greeted, nodding curtly, “You Ian Clawburn?” “Who’s asking?” the massive Elk asked in return, crossing his arms to subtly flex both his strong forearms and chest. “Trent Flintpaw,” the Coyote answered, extending one hand politely to shake, “Is Elizabeth here, by any chance?” Ian’s stare could have frosted flowers in the field. He ignored the hand. Trent’s ears laid down just a little as he took it back. “Look, man, I just need my car keys back. The car’s parked around the corner, so I know she’s somewhere in the area. You really haven’t seen her?” Ian’s stare never budged from the Coyote...but his left hand did reach behind the partially-open door. Elizabeth was already quietly working to wedge a claw into the ring of keys in her hands, so she could slide off the one belonging to Trent’s car... “Just out of curiosity,” Ian asked coldly, “How’d you know to come here?” Trent shrugged like it was just one of those things anyone who graduated from grade-school would know. “Her friends seemed to understand the situation pretty quick when I started asking about her, and weren’t exactly reluctant to share your address.” The key pressed into the Elk’s palm, and he quickly pulled it around to toss to the Coyote. “Fair. They also warned you what will happen if you keep loitering on my porch, right?” Trent was already stepping back even before he caught the key. “Yeah, yeah, no need for the murder-stare,” he huffed, “She’s all yours. Yeesh.” And with that he marched around the corner of the block, to where his car was parked on the curb. Ian closed the door. “Forgotten gods, you sure know how to pick ‘em,” the Elk muttered, trying hard to ignore the fact that he was included in that accusation. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. He checked his watch, and pulled the tie from his pocket to finally loop around his thick neck. “I’m late. Do me a solid for once,” he requested as he deftly knotted the tie without even needing a mirror to check it. Elizabeth tilted her head in a curious look, until Ian met her eyes with a stern frown. “Don’t be here when I get back tonight.” He stepped out the door without waiting for her to acknowledge him. The Elk paused, taking a careful look around to be sure Trent was well and truly gone, before making his way down the short walkway. Elizabeth would wait a few more minutes, just in case, before making the walk far enough into town to reach the trolley lines. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and ran a hand over his face just as he got onto the sidewalk. “Rough morning?” a small, unfamiliar voice asked innocently. Ian turned sharply, eyes locking onto the small figure leaning against the streetlamp just outside his fence. She was a Fennec, a little under five feet tall, with her large ears perked toward him in interest. She was pretty — elegant, even — despite the plain and humble dress she was wearing. Her pale fur caught the morning light, and her thick, fluffy tail flicked lazily behind her. She smiled, tilting her head toward his door. “Lover’s quarrel?” Ian’s gave her a measured look, tucking one hand into his pocket. “Nothing for a lady to concern herself with, miss. Do I know you?” “Not yet,” she said smoothly, pushing off the lamppost and taking a few steps closer. “But I know a few things about [i]you[/i], Ian Clawburn.” She folded her hands innocently behind her back, gazing up at him like he was the most handsome thing she’d ever laid eyes on. “Word gets around about big, strong men who take good care of the ladies in their life, doesn’t it?” Ian narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like being “known” by strangers. “A lady usually introduces herself before she starts in on the flattery,” he noted. The little Fennec giggled sweetly, and nodded. “I suppose that’s true. How very rude of me.” Making a curtsy with the skirt of her simple blue column-dress, she smiled up at him. “Organa Lightwillow. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Likewise,” he answered politely, but with a detachment that said he was really anything but pleased. Checking his watch again, he motioned for her to follow him. “I’m already running late, so come along and you can tell me what you want as we walk. Fair enough?” Her smile widened even as she fell in step right beside him. “More than fair. Can I get you a biscuit on the way?” she asked sweetly. Offering, rather than asking, surprised the towering Elk more than a little. He gave a more openly intrigued glance down at the small Fennec walking alongside him. “If it’s breakfast you’re after, treats are usually on me, Ms. Lightwillow,” he admitted. Organa chuckled quietly, her smile taking on a bit of smugness as she sauntered along down the sidewalk. “A proper gentleman. Your kind is hard to find these days, it seems,” she praised him quietly. “Truth be told, Mr. Clawburn, I’m looking for a bit more than breakfast,” she admitted, “It just so happens that I’m in the market for a champion...”