A strong breeze blew through the quiet suburban neighborhood, rustling the few browned leaves still clinging desperately to the trees.  There was a sharpness in the air that indicated winter was coming, but it wasn't quite here yet.  It looked almost like a scene from a postcard.  And for the last two minutes, Lieutenant Colonel Gregory Jennings had been sitting in his car, working up the nerve to get out.

As he sat in that vehicle, staring up at the blue house with the white shutters, he felt a familiar flutter in his stomach.  He couldn't help but to chuckle at the absurdity of the reaction.  The fox was certainly no stranger to fear.  After all, he'd spent over a decade flying F-16's.  He'd flown combat missions in Kosovo and Iraq.  Hundreds of flights, any one of which could have been his last, and yet a small part of his mind yearned to be back in Gulf in the cockpit of a fighter rather than be here.

He knew why he felt this way.  Flying a fighter, the risks were known, even if intel was sometimes incomplete.  But here, on this quiet street in an affluent suburb of Boston, Gregory was facing the truly unknown.  If his research was right, then one of the residents of that sky blue house was a vixen that he hadn't seen in nearly fifteen years, and he had no idea what would happen when he knocked on that door.

Would she even want to see him again?  Would she recognize him?  Would he recognize HER?  Was there a chance that maybe, just maybe, they could begin to bridge the chasm that had separated them?  He hoped so.  But he wasn't sure, and that uncertainty was gnawing at him, filling him with far more dread than facing stingers ever had.

The fox took a few deep breaths, then opened the car door and climbed out. "It's now or never," he muttered.  He shut the door and straightened his tie. The fox had opted for his Air Force service dress uniform for this particular outing. If nothing else, the reminder of his service instilled him with the confidence he would need to face whatever fate lay beyond that door. He also hoped that maybe the uniform would jog the vixen's memory, even if he was significantly more decorated than when she last saw him.

Gregory straightened his shoulders as he strode down the walk from the street to the front door. There was nothing to fear. After all, this might not even be her! Surely she wouldn't have stuck around Boston. She'd always loved San Francisco. Maybe she was there. Or France. Oh, how she'd waxed poetic about Paris, ever since that trip abroad her sophomore year at Northeastern. If anyone could have found a way to make a life there, it'd be her. Only one way to find out. He took another breath as he reached the door, standing for a few moments as he collected his thoughts, then rang the doorbell.

A shiver ran down the fox's spine. This was it. If he was right about the residents of this house, then he was about to reunite with perhaps the most important vixen in his life – next to his wife, of course. Seconds dragged on, the wait interminable. "You'd think after fifteen years, a few seconds wouldn't make that much of a difference," he muttered. As he raised his paw to ring the bell again, the door opened.

Before him stood a vixen, wearing only a bathrobe. She certainly looked familiar. A little older, a little grayer, but definitely familiar. Her eyes didn't carry the same sparkle of her youth, but held the same fierce determination that Gregory remembered from all those years ago. He was becoming more sure of himself, but he wasn't certain... yet.

"Can I help you?" the vixen asked.

Greg opened his mouth, and nearly choked on his words. He hadn't expected it to be quite this hard to speak. "Yes, um... hello. I hope this doesn't seem too... odd, but I'm looking for someone. A vixen I used to know a long time ago. And I'm wondering if that... might... be..." He trailed off, watching the vixen's face as her eyes widened. There was something there. Was he right? Was this the vixen he was looking for?

"Reggie?"

That name. Greg's ears flicked. No one had called him 'Reggie' since he was a little pup.  No one... except for his little sister. A grin spread unbidden across his muzzle. He'd found her!

"Hey, Terror," he said, letting himself relax for the first time since he'd set out from Hartford. "Long time no see."

The vixen stared at him, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Reggie... is... is it really you?" she whispered.

The fox pointed to his name tag, and straightened his coat. He wanted to say something, but words were failing him. The fox was as dumbstruck as the vixen. Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. He could feel tears welling in his eyes. It was her... he'd found his sister, Terry.

A few moments passed as the two looked at each other. Then Terry opened the storm door and stepped out, reaching a paw up to the fox's muzzle. She paused as she looked at him, angling his head down a bit, and pressed her nose to his. "Greg," she whispered, then threw her arms around the fox, squeezing the air from his lungs.

Greg winced as his sister hugged him, and wrapped his arms around her. "I've missed you," he whispered.

Terry looked up at the fox, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "My gods... I can't beli... come in, come in," she said.  She pulled back from her brother's grasp and stepped inside. "And here I'm not wearing anything," she muttered. "If I'd known we were going to have company, I would have gotten dressed!"

The fox chuckled as he followed his sister indoors, shutting the door behind him. "I suppose I should have at least tried to contact you first, but I just... wanted to be sure. And I thought it would be better to do this in person," he said.

Terry blushed, and took a few steps toward the stairs, trying to maneuver around the larger fox. "Well, the least I can do is make myself decent," she said.

"Naturist at home, I take it?" Greg asked.

The question caught the vixen off-guard. "Well, yes," she said. "You know me. I was never one for wearing clothes when not absolutely necessary."

"So why should be it be necessary now?" Greg asked with a chuckle. "As they say, when in Rome, one does as the Romans," he said as he unbuttoned his coat. "The tie was choking me, anyway," he added as he tugged the knot down and off, freeing himself from the garment.

The vixen giggled and took a few steps back, raising an eyebrow as she watched her brother undress. "Greg, we haven't seen each other in fifteen years, and you're just going to get naked in front of me?"

Greg shrugged off his coat and looked around. "I don't see why not. It's not like we didn't see each other naked frequently growing up. Do you have a hanger for this?"

Terry laughed and shook her head, and pointed to a door behind him. "Should be a few hangers in the closet there," she said. She watched as he opened the door and hung up his coat, wrapping his tie around the hook before pulling off his shirt. "I must say, the Greg I remember was much more modest."

"Used to be," Greg admitted as he hung up his shirt and undid his belt. "Then I had two more kits, and they hated wearing clothes just as much as you and I did, and I... went along with it." Without ceremony, he dropped his pants and underwear, his body on autopilot as he neatly hung his uniform. Once it was secured, he turned and faced his sister, the male openly displaying himself to the vixen. "Anything like you remember?" he asked.

He knew that to be a bit of a trick question.  While he tried his best to stay fit, his years away from the military were showing.  His mid-forties were not kind to his physique.  No matter how hard he tried, that damned belly just would not disappear, even if he was as strong and spry as ever.

"I suppose," Terry replied.  Her eyes drifted up and down brother's body, lingering on his groin for just a moment, before she opened her robe and tossed it back against the couch. "Well, come, sit down," she said as she took a seat on the couch, and wiped away a few tears.

Greg smiled and took a seat next to his sister, and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. "Wow... I can't believe I found you after all these years," he whispered.

The vixen licked her brother's nose, then looked into his eyes. "What would your wife say if she could see you now, sitting naked next to an equally nude vixen?" she teased.

"Well, that depends," Greg said. "If she didn't know you were my sister, she'd probably just roll her eyes and remind me not to flaunt her in front of the kits. But since you ARE my sister... well, at least she'd know that I'm not the only one like this in the family."

"Isn't that the truth," Terry said, and leaned against her brother. "Guess we have a lot of catching up to do... still with the same wife? That wolf, what was her name... Jennifer?"

The fox nodded and nuzzled the vixen. "Still going strong," he said. "I'm not sure if you remember Colleen. She was barely a year old when you last saw her. And now we've got two more, Stephanie, she's twelve, and Thomas, our nine year old. Quite a handful, that one."

"As boys tend to be," Terry said with a little giggle. "Your younger ones are right around my cubs' age."

Greg chuckled. "Should have known you wouldn't have waited too long to start a family. What are their names?"

"Robert and Ellen," Terry said, letting out a little contented sigh as she snuggled with the fox. "Robbie's eleven, turning twelve in a couple of weeks, and Ellie's eight. She'll be nine in March."

The fox nodded. "Found yourself a husband out here, did you?" he asked.

Terry giggled. "You remember Daniel, that boy I spent so much time with growing up?"

"Of course," Greg said, rolling his eyes. "You had your little troop. Never figured out how he fit in with the hippies and the druggies."

"I guess we just needed a foil," Terry said with a shrug. "But however it happened, he's mine now." She cleared her throat, then looked up at him. "Still in the Air Force?"

Greg shook his head. "Retired in 2001. My politics drifted away from the service," he said, leaning back and letting out a little sigh. "I work for an engineering firm in Hartford now. And I give flight lessons on weekends at a little air strip just outside the city."

The vixen laughed and rolled her eyes. "Nothing could keep you out of the air, could it?"

"I'll be a flying fox till the day I die," Greg said. "So what do you do? Last I saw you, you were still working on your B.S. How'd that go for you?"

Terry stretched out, putting an arm around her brother's shoulders and pulling herself in close. "Finished that, then went on to get a Ph.D. Now I split my time between my kits, and a clinic in town as a professional psychologist, treating young and adolescent cubs," she said. "Oh, and I teach a couple of classes in clinical techniques at a college nearby. But the bulk of my work is with my patients."

The fox smiled. "Figured you'd end up doing something like that. You always loved helping furs, cubs especially.  Must be hard, working with troubled youth."

"You have no idea," Terry said.  “Thankfully, it’s mostly upper class drama.  Oh, the stories I could tell!  But privacy laws and all that.”  She leaned back and shook her head, then looked up at the fox. They were silent for a few moments, before Terry leaned in and whispered, "So... how's dad?"

Greg bit his lip. He knew this would come up eventually. "He, uh... he died... in March," he said, turning away from the vixen.

"Oh," Terry said, looking down at her lap.

"I'm sorry," Greg whispered. "I wanted to try to find you then, but dad was adamant that he didn't want you there, and I... respected his wishes," he said. "I wish I hadn't. It wasn't fair to you..."

Terry forced a small laugh and shook her head. "No, no, it's fine... dad and I never got along, anyway. And I'm sure most of his friends wouldn't have appreciated me showing up, either."

Greg chuckled nervously. "I suppose not." He cleared his throat, then looked over at the vixen. "H-how's mom?"

"Mom's doing well," Terry said. "She's still living with Hannah. They bought a little cottage up in Maine. They're very happy together, and they love seeing my kits... but she misses you terribly. And Nick and Sam, too."

Greg nodded, and took a breath. "Good... well, that she's doing well, I mean, not that she misses us. Well, I guess she should miss us, but..."

Terry giggled a bit. "You never were good with emotions, Greg," she whispered, and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

The fox blushed, and turned to look his sister in the eyes. "Terry... that's what I wanted to talk to you about..."

The vixen raised an eyebrow. "Well, now you’ve got me intrigued.  What’s the situation?" she asked.

Greg sighed as he leaned back. "Well, a few months ago, I caught Colleen... in bed... with another girl," he muttered.

Terry's eyes widened, and she gave her brother a playful shove. "No!" she whispered.

"Yes," Greg said. He looked up at the ceiling and shut his eyes. "I... well, to be honest, I freaked out. I yelled at her, forbade her from seeing that girl... but when Jenny talked me down, I started thinking.  And I started to realize that... well... maybe it's not so bad.  I know you played around with girls, too, when you were a kit... umm... do you still?" he asked as he turned to face his sister.

"When I can," Terry said. "I'm still bisexual, and Dan and I are in an open relationship. We've each had boyfriends and girlfriends. Less now that we're getting older and our kits are getting older, but yeah... I've been with females."

Greg nodded.  "And of course, mom is... a lesbian," he said.  He sighed, then looked at his sister.  "Look, Terry... I'll understand if you don't want to, but... I want to start putting the past behind us.  We said a lot of stupid things fifteen years ago... well, alright, I said a lot of stupid things," he added, seeing the incredulous look on his sister's face.  "It was the heat of the moment.  I'd always looked up to dad.  He's a big part of why I went into the military.  I didn't want to lose him.  But he's gone now... and I don't want to have lost you forever.  I want my kits to know their aunt, their... grandmother... I want Colleen to know that I care, that I still love her, and I want her to have role models, you know?  And what's better than having it right in the family?"

Terry looked away for a moment.  It was a lot to take in, and she and her brother certainly had a lot of catching up to do.  "So you just show up out of the blue and want to make up for fifteen years apart?" she whispered.

Greg leaned in and hugged his sister, nuzzling her cheek.  "I'm sorry, Terry.  I wish things had turned out differently.  But we're older now, and wiser.  I... don't expect you to forgive me for what an ass I was.  But maybe we can start fresh?  I miss you... I want you back in my life, sis... please..."

Just at that moment, they were interrupted by the sound of a cub's voice.

"Mooooom! When's dinner?"

Terry and Greg looked up as a chubby young fox walked into the living room, naked as the day he was born. The cub froze as he saw his mother with the other fox.

The vixen glanced up at the clock, then back at her son. "That's right, I should do something for dinner... it's a little late to start cooking now, though... maybe I'll have your father pick up some take-out on his way home," she said. "How's Chinese sound?"

"Uh... good, I guess," Robbie said, taking a couple steps back as he locked eyes with the adult fox.

Greg chuckled and stood up. "Guess you must be Robbie, then," he said.

"Oh! Of course," Terry said, standing up herself and waving to her son. "Robbie, come here... there's someone I'd like you to meet."

The fox kit stepped forward, then slowly walked over to his mother and the strange adult, eying him suspiciously. "Okay... umm... who are you?" he asked.

Terry stepped behind her son and placed her paws on his shoulders, then looked down at him. "Robbie... this is your Uncle Greg."

Robbie looked up at the fox, then over his shoulder at his mother. "Since when do I have an Uncle Greg?" he asked.

The elder fox chuckled. "Well, kiddo, your mom and I haven't seen each other for a very long time... since before you were born. But I'm hoping to change that now," he said as he offered a paw. "If your mother's willing, we'll get to see a lot more of each other."

The cub took the offered paw, but kept an eyebrow raised as he looked up at the older fox. "Why haven't you seen my mom in so long?" he asked.

The adults exchanged glances, and Terry squeezed Robbie's shoulders. "It's a long story, sweetie," she said, then looked up at her brother. "But yes. I'd like to see you again." She looked down at her son. "Greg is the oldest of my three brothers."

Robbie looked up at his mother, then at Greg. "Wait... so you've got three brothers, and we're only meeting one of them NOW?"

Greg sighed. "Like your mother said, it's a long story... but what's done is done, and I'm hoping that, going forward, we can mend the family... and I can get to know you," he said, and squatted down to eye level with the eleven year old. "Think we can do that, bud?"

The cub shrugged. "I guess..." He cleared his throat, then detached himself from his mother and went back to the hall. "I'm gonna go play more games," he said as he walked out.

Terry rolled her eyes at her son. "Alright, dear. Oh! And send your sister out. I want her to meet Greg, too."

The elder fox took a few deep breaths to retain his composure.  A few seconds later, a young vixen ran down the hall. She slid to a halt as she reached the living room, nearly colliding with her uncle.

"Hi!" Ellie said, beaming up at the adult fox.

Greg chuckled. "Why hello there," he said. "You're quite the bundle of energy, aren't you?"

"Uh huh!" Ellie said, her tail wagging furiously as she hugged him. "I'm Ellie. My brother said you're our new uncle!"

The fox laughed. "Well, I wouldn't say 'new,' but yeah... I'm your Uncle Greg. Your mom's oldest brother."

Ellie gasped, then looked up at her mother. "Mommy, you have BROTHERS?!" she asked.

"Three of them," Terry said.

"Ohmygods," Ellie cried.  She grabbed her uncle’s paws and squeezed them as she looked up at the adult.   "Do you have kits? Do your other brothers? Can I have more cousins? I like having cousins! They're fun!"

The older fox couldn't help but to smile. The young vixen's enthusiasm was infectious. "Oh, yes. I've got three kits myself, and--"

"That's so cool! What are their names? How old are they? Can they come over to play?" Ellie asked.

Terry walked over and tapped her daughter between the ears. "Ellie, slow down, give your uncle time to think!" she said.

"Sorry," Ellie said, blushing a bit, her tail slowing only a little before resuming its previous rapid pace of wagging.

Greg chuckled and poked his niece's nose. "Well, my oldest is Colleen. She's sixteen. Then there's Stephanie. She's your brother's age. And finally there's Tommy. He's about your age."

"Coooool!" Ellie said.  Her tail wagged harder than ever.

The adult chuckled and pat the girl’s head.  She was so much like her mother. "It's very lovely to meet you, Ellie, but your mom and I have a lot of catching up to do... you wouldn't mind giving us a little more time alone, would you?"

"Aww... okay," Ellie said. She moped as she walked out of the room, but as soon as she was out of sight, she picked up her pace. Greg could hear her claws clicking much more rapidly against the hardwood floor as she retreated.

"Quite the little firecracker, that one," Greg said.  He walked around the couch and seated himself again.

“Well, of course,” Terry said.  “She IS my daughter, after all.”

Greg beamed.  “It shows.”  He shifted a little in his seat.  “I guess you never told your kits about us, then.”

Terry sat down on the couch, her ears lowering a bit.  “Well, no,” she said.  “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.  After all, you’d made it clear that you didn’t want to see me, or mom, again.”

The older fox sighed.  “I can’t blame you.  I’ve never mentioned you to my kits, either.  As far as they know, Nick, Sam and I are the only kits dad had.”  He looked at his sister.  She was still staring pointedly into her lap.  “Do you want me to leave?”

That got her to look up.  “No,” she said quickly.  “Not yet.”  Her eyes shone brightly.  Her lip quivered.  “I just… it’s a lot to process all at once, Reggie.”

Greg slid closer and put an arm around the vixen.  “We don’t have to do it all at once,” he whispered.  “If you need some time to think, I understand.  I certainly can’t blame you.  I found your address three months ago and only just worked up the courage to come out and try to see you.”

Terry nodded.  “Well, what’s past is past.  We can’t do anything about it now.  But I’m willing to give it a go,” she whispered.  “What about the rest of the family?  Nick, Sam?”

The male cleared his throat.  “Sam’s still pretty sore about everything.  I don’t know if he’ll be as keen to mend fences.  Nick seems to have loosened up a bit, though I didn’t mention to him my plan to seek you out.”  He chuckled.  “Well, I can’t really call it MY plan.  Jenny suggested it.”

The vixen beamed.  “That sounds like the Jenny I remember.”  She nuzzled Greg’s cheek.  “I should probably call in the food.  Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I’d love that,” Greg said.  “Just let me call my better half and let her know.”

Terry giggled.  “Of course.”

“Terry, there IS something I’d like to talk to about privately before dinner,” he said.

The vixen raised an eyebrow.  “Certainly.  Let me just call Dan and let him know we’ll be having a guest, and call in the food, and we can chat.”

Greg nodded, and both foxes stood.  He watched his sister as she walked into the kitchen, then walked to the closet to retrieve his cell from his coat pocket.  A quick text to the wife flowed from his fingers.  He was still getting used to this touch screen business.  Once his task was completed, he returned the phone to his coat pocket, then crossed back over to the couch and sat down.  So this was it.  After fifteen years, he was finally going to start mending bridges.