Calm ...

... down.

Calm down.

Easier said than done. Almost impossible, really, right now. She was too hyped up. Too much, too much.

Calm down, though. Just try, try. Keep trying.

Please?

Ezri shook her head at that, eyes watering. She couldn't. It was no use.

But, even so, she impatiently sat, blinking her eyes dry, breathing through her ever-active rodent nose. Which sniffed. Which twitched. Her whiskers twitched, and she sighed, breathing out, breathing in. Leading to more impatient breaths. All these little, repeated motions of hers. All these constant shows of energy. She felt like she was unraveling or something.

She felt overwhelmed. Totally.

Overwhelmed.

She delicately hugged a couch-pillow, and then tossed it aside, biting her lip.

Oh, come on, come on. Where was he ...

She was on the couch, in their quarters. Had been for quite some time. Alone, waiting. The lights were dimmed, very soothing, very peaceful. A nice atmosphere. Her bushy, luxurious tail draped over the back of the couch, hanging in the air, perfectly brushed and groomed, gleaming a healthy, nutty-brown. Occasionally flicking. Her bare foot-paws were on the floor, toes digging, with their filed, blunted claws, into the carpet. Wriggle-wiggle. Dig. Ease up. She swallowed, breathing deeply. Holding the breath. And she shakily exhaled, her paws clutching at the plush, giving surface of the couch-cushions.

Constant movement. Constant twitching.

Constant!

Exhausting.

Still, still, still gripping her!

She turned her head this way and that, stretching lightly.

She throbbed.

She ached.

She wanted.

Not just wanted. It was more than that. NEEDED. I need ...

... it. I need it. I need him. Come on, come on.

The squirrel exhaled through the muzzle, now, her breath shaky. So shaky. She licked her dry lips, her whiskers twitching. Twitch-twitching. Nose sniffing. Breathing a bit faster, trying to calm her quickly-beating heart. Thump-a-thump, thump-a-thump. Her eyes darted a bit, and then went still again, fixating on the door to their quarters. Her body was flushed. Beneath her enveloping pelt, a throbbing, radiating warmth. She almost felt like she could be matted with sweat. It got so much fiercer in her lower belly, and between her legs, especially. So much more. Fiercer. Where the heat just pulsed, pulsed. Down there, it was like a pull. A force. She was so moist down there, by now, that she could feel the drops of fluid dripping out of her, from between her pink and fleshy, fur-surrounded folds. Again, she swallowed hard, eyes starting to dart.

A heavy, heavy sigh.

Where was Jinx?

Oh ... Jinx ... her skunk. What a skunk. What a male. That cute, black-furred rump. Such soft, silky cheeks, to grab, to pet, and that glorious, pure-white-striped tail poised above it. To hold like a blanket. Oh, to bury her nose in. Those scent-glands above his tail-base! Euphoria! Oh, his God-given sex-advantage: pheromones. And her? Agility. She could wrap around his body, twisting, turning, in such maneuverable, awesome ways. Could hitch onto him, and his firm, pulsing skunk-hood, like she'd hitch to a tree. Oh, the sturdy trunk of him, and the moving limbs of him. Oh, that furry sac, and the strong build of his back, and the muscles of his chest, and ...

... oh, gosh. Oh, my gosh. Listen to yourself!

Oh, wow.

This felt like insanity. It was, in a way, wasn't it? But she wasn't insane. No, she was ...

" ... in heat. I'm ... in heat," she panted aloud, telling herself the obvious. She already knew it, of course. It had been painfully evident for the past three hours. She almost whimpered. A pitiful whimper. "Jinx," she breathed, as if maybe he would hear her. And get back sooner. His shift should be over, right? In a few minutes? He was in that meeting. It wasn't supposed to run past his normal shift-time. She hesitated to call him on the comm, cause suppose he was talking to someone, and what if Ezri interrupted, with her heavy breathing and her little, squeaky moans, asking when he'd be back?

No, she could wait. She could wait.

He'd be back soon.

Just hold on, okay? Hold on.

She, herself, had been let off duty early. Several hours early. Aria had insisted it was because they were docked at S-7, one of the snow rabbit space stations, in orbit of the snow rabbit home-world, now. For a week of leave. While the ship was being restocked and reassigned. Aria pointed out how there wasn't much for Ezri to be doing on the bridge, really, so ...



" ... perhaps you should go to your quarters? And relax?"

Ezri, upon meeting the snow rabbit's eyes, saw that, yes, she knew. Heats were obvious things. Aria had figured it out, and was wanting to dismiss Ezri before she could get too horny to function. Or, more to the point: before she got so horny that she made everyone ELSE horny. What with furs' noses and such.

"M-ma'am," Ezri managed, shaking her head. A stand-alone earphone in one ear. She was monitoring the ship-to-station communications. And surface-to-ship. All that. Staying informed on the latest news. Situations. Gossip. Okay, so right now, it was more about listening to gossip than anything, but ... " ... Aria, I'm fine. I'm just ... "

" ... in heat?" Aria supplied, quietly, privately. "You look it." A careful sniff, her whiskers giving a singular twitch. "And you're beginning to smell it."

"It's not that bad ... is it? I ... I felt fine this morning. It was only after lunch that I began to feel flushed, and ... but I can last until the end of my shift. I can," the squirrel insisted. Why was she arguing this? She didn't half-know. But, then, flooded with hormones as she was, more by the minute, she wasn't exactly in a rational state. Sure, it would be great to get off duty early, to go to her quarters, and ...

" ... understand, lieutenant. I do." An eye-smile. "You can have the next three days off. Until it passes. We are docked," she reminded. "There is nothing pressing that requires your attention."

... just go, Ezri, go. Go. But, hormone-stubborn, and mind-hazy, the squirrel felt like she needed to argue the point. Felt like she needed to be useful. Needed to be contributing. "I can help. I can ... do stuff," she managed, whiskers twitching, nose sniffing. "Lots of stuff to listen to," she said lamely, beginning to falter.

Aria, standing close to her, leaning on the other side of her console, just raised her brow, looking down at her. Like a snowy-white guardian. Waiting. Letting her continue, but waiting for ...

" ... me to admit I'm, uh ... well, I admit I'm, uh ... but I can still contribute, and ... function," she whispered, sighing heavily. A greater flush. Her heart hammered. She closed her eyes and swallowed, feeling a delicious tingling feeling. It went from her nose-tip to her tail-tip, making her shiver. Making her loins, suddenly, to up their aching another notch. And, weakly meeting Aria's eyes, Ezri whispered with resignation, "I guess I better go ... I'm sorry ... "

"There is nothing at all," Aria assured gently, "to apologize for. I know how it feels. I have one every three weeks," she reminded. "I AM a snow rabbit, remember ... "

"Yeah, but ... you have yours closer together, so they don't last as long," Ezri breathed, "each time. You get, like, a day or two ... each heat. I get three or four." Another heavy sigh. But, then, squirrels only went into heat once a month. Yet another sigh, and a shake of the head. "I wish males had to ... to feel this," she said, whiskers twitching, meeting Aria's eyes. "They get to enjoy our heats ... without FEELING the constant, buzzing effects ... " A swallow. " ... of it." It was the most maddening, beautiful, torturous form of sizzling pleasure. So consuming as to make you impossibly yearn. It was so overwhelming. "I feel crazy," she whispered, her whiskers drooping. "Heats make me feel crazy." She met Aria's eyes.

"There is no stopping them," was her simple statement. "No use lamenting it."

"I'm not ... lamenting. It feels ... really good," the squirrel breathed, "but I wish it wasn't so FIERCE. I just ... feel like a feral animal, you know?"

"I know. The best advice I can give ... is that you install your heat into a mechanism that can give it meaning."

"You mean ... like, you mean love," Ezri realized, licking her lips.

A gentle nod. "Yes. You have a husband. He loves you. You are married, in a committed, devoted relationship. You can rest in the knowledge that, as feral as you feel during your heat ... the pleasure that results from it is safe. Lasting. Has eternal meaning. Spiritual," Aria whispered, "effects."

The squirrel's whiskers twitch. "Yeah ... "

"God designed the act. And he gave you a mate to act it out ... with," she said, tilting her head. "He has provided for you. So, you've no reason to be anxious."

"I'm a rodent, remember? Not so easy ... to stop the anxious part."

"I am married to a rodent." She eye-smiled.

"Oh ... yeah. Well, I ... I know you understand, Aria, I just ... look, there's no use trying to hold a conversation with me right now, cause I'm bound to be irrational." She felt another shiver running down her spine. One of those pleasure-shivers. Her eyes were forced to a brief shut, and then they opened, pupils dilated.

Oh, this was good, yes, but at the same time, it was almost too much to handle. It was almost a burden.

So, you bred, bred, bred. When you bred, the fire lessened. For a few hours. And then it came back. A constant, high-burning sexual cycle. And, oh, yes, the pleasure was wonderful. Oh, yes. But, at times, it was just so exhausting. You felt so utterly helpless, even silly, sometimes. You just lost control of your own body, seemingly. And, as a result, you lost control of your mind, as well.

But Aria's right, Ezri told herself.

You have a husband. A love. You're in love, married, and Jinx would never hurt you or leave you. He can take care of you. Of this. Can relieve you. In the best of ways. Oh, the best of ways, yes.

He can calm you, soothe you. He can quench your thirst. Feed your need.

So, yes, it may be a feral, animalistic drive, but it has meaning in love. For when you turned breeding into ‘making love,' you found a whole new kind of spiritual satisfaction, a God-given union, one that cooled you, purifying the hot, hot act and making it into something malleable.

Something that could be sculpted into beauty.

Was there anything more poetic than love? Was there anything more beautiful than the coming together of the male and femme bodies? Was there ...

" ... lieutenant?" Aria's ears waggled a bit, atop her head.

"Mm?" A blink. Another blink. She'd gotten swept away in her thoughts. She swallowed, nodding. "I can't go, though, without Jinx. Where's ... "

" ... Jinx is on the station, at a conference with the snow rabbit militia leaders. He cannot leave the meeting early. But I'll tell him to report to you," Aria assured, eye-smiling, "as soon as he's finished."

"Thanks," the squirrel whispered, a bit breathlessly. She took the ear-phone out of her ear, turned off her systems, and stood, feeling a bit dizzy.

"Perhaps you should drink some water," Aria said.

"Water?"

"My species ... requires constant drinks of water," she explained, "during ... such times," she said, head-tilting, eye-smiling. "To stay hydrated."

"I don't dehydrate nearly as quickly as your species does," Ezri assured. "Believe me, water's not going to cool me down." She sounded very frustrated as she said this.

"Nonetheless ... I suggest you have some water. And some food. And go rest. It will calm you down, somewhat." A pause. "And Ezri?"

The squirrel, who'd already been turning to walk to the lift, paused, turning back, asking, "Yeah?"

"Enjoy yourself." That sustained eye-smile, and a whisker-twitch. And a bobtail-flick, to boot. "It may feel, sometimes, like a burden, but ... it is quite the blessing. Don't get so overloaded as to miss the pleasure."

Ezri managed a weak, distracted, but genuine smile. And a little nod. "Mm-hmm," was all she could manage, as she went for the lift.

Aria watched her go, and then shook her head with quiet, controlled mirth.



That'd been two, three hours ago. She couldn't quite remember, to be honest. She couldn't quite focus, anymore.

No functioning.

No rational thought. Hard to focus.

She couldn't focus, no. No, she tried, and tried, but ...

... only sex. All her thoughts, all her wants. Her whole being. Sex. Breed, her ovulating body screamed! She had flitting, fiery thoughts, had fantasies of being pregnant, so pregnant. Babies. Breed, her body whispered, oblivious to the fact that skunks and squirrels weren't genetically compatible. Jinx could satiate her breeding drive, yes, totally. As he always did. But couldn't get her pregnant.

I don't wanna be pregnant, anyway, she told herself. Jinx and I don't want children yet. Not anytime soon. Anyway, he can't get me pregnant. You KNOW that ...

... it doesn't matter, her body seemed to interrupt. Doesn't matter. And it kept flooding her mind with fertile, heat-driven images.

Breed, breed, sex.

Sex!

Pleasure!

Memories and promises of pure, physical pleasure, of emotional intimacy, closeness, connection. One body, one fur, one mind. Imprinting on each other's souls. You want that, don't you, so badly. So badly.

A squeak of frustration!

And she launched to her foot-paws, getting upright, and looking around, almost at a loss for what to do, she began to pace, pace.

Pace.

Back and forth.

She could start pawing. Yeah. She could do that. Only, it would only make it WORSE, so much worse, and it wouldn't really satisfy anything. She needed to be filled. Needed Jinx inside her. Needed his body caressing her, guiding her.

She needed HIM.

She loved him. So much. His strength, and his sense of humor. He didn't think he was funny, but she thought he was. And he always had nice things to say about her. He would always be encouraging. They'd come a long way, hadn't they?

They'd both grown a lot.

Oh, she loved him.

She loved his smile, and his sense of play. Loved how he got when he was tipsy. She loved how handsome he was, and how he always treated her so gently, like a flower of a femme. He was never rough.

And their shared faith, too. How they made each other stronger, made up for each other's deficiencies.

Oh, Jinx, she thought.

Nothing else would satisfy, right now. Nothing else would do. She had to wait for him.

The squirrel padded a few steps this way, and stopped, her bushy, luxurious tail bobbing, flagging behind her. A squirrel's tail was a squirrel's pride. It was usually the first thing furs noticed about a squirrel. Their tail.

Swallowing, she padded in the opposite direction. She was still dressed, yes. In order, for lack of a more polite way to put it, to keep a barrier between her paws and her pussy. She was wearing shorts, and her panties. And a tank-top shirt, with her bra visible beneath the fabric of it. Stuff she could easily strip off. She could easily slip out of her attire, once Jinx got back.

And Aria no doubt, at some point, had kindly ‘warned' him of Ezri's ‘condition.' Cause the squirrel hadn't been in heat this morning. And hadn't been at lunch, when she and Jinx had last been together (them having ‘been together' in more than one definition of the phrase). It was after lunch that it started to sink in, to take effect. Of course, she'd known her time was near. She'd known it was around that time of the month. But, as was always the case, the exact hour of her heat's rising had caught her off-guard. She'd been surprised, really.

I thought I had at least another day, she told herself, eyes darting. And then, physically and mentally pausing, she frowned at herself, asking, what difference does it make? Again, the lack of control hit her. Impulses, instincts, needs, wants. Images. Cravings. All at once. It all hit her at once, in a way that was hard to bear. She was just floating, bobbing in a sea of these things, and she was being carried, spirited away.

She chittered pitifully.

Her eyes watered as she resumed her pacing. She felt like she wanted to cry, now. So much emotion. She wanted to cry. And she did. Sniffling, eyes watering, she paced, paced, and then flopped back onto the couch, burying her muzzle in a pillow. She squeaked! Loudly and with frustration, she squeaked! Chittering at the state she was in. The needy, weak, wanting state she was in, her body aching, throbbing, her mind sex-crazed. She felt like an idiot.

She felt like sobbing and twitching and throwing things. And maybe throwing things would've been a bit TOO irrational, so she stuck to the first two. Sobbing and twitching.

Until the doors swished open.

Until she raised her head, sniffing, looking.

Until she saw Jinx.

"Hey," the skunk said, gently, with his familiar voice. Stepping inside their quarters with his familiar gait. The doors shut. And his silky, superb tail swished in its lazy, luxurious way through the air, that white stripe glinting in the dim light.

"Jinx!" Ezri squeaked, with happy exclamation, with such affection and gratitude. A sniffle, and a twitch, and she was up and scurrying into him, nearly toppling him over. Her arms around his back, her nose against his neck. Taking deep, deep breaths of his fur, his scent. His everything. "Oh, Jinx," she breathed, sounding soft and sultry, her eyes drying. She couldn't stop touching him. "Oh, gosh ... where ... have you," she demanded, "been?" She swallowed, feeling on the verge of exploding. So much pressure. So much need. She was pawing at his body.

"Uh, I was ... uh ... in a meeting," he explained. "I thought Aria told you ... "

" ... that ... yeah ... who cares. Get naked," she panted, at a whisper.

"You're in heat," he whispered, just to say it. Just to let her know that, yes, he knew. That ...

" ... yes, silly. Course. Course," she panted. "Come on, come on," she urged, her voice very desperate. She felt, honestly, quite dizzy. Like she needed to lie down.

The skunk chuckled a bit, and nodded, sniffing the air. Sniffing her. "Mm," he sighed, breathing deeply again. And, again, letting it out with an ‘mm' sound. "You always smell the best when you're in heat," he whispered, sighing, allowing himself to be lured and caught by her pheromones, and her body. Her. "But you smell good," he insisted, making sure she knew it, "all the time ... my woodland flower," he breathed, with a poetic note to his voice.

"Oh, Jinx ... you're ... so nice," was all the squirrel could manage in response. She was too hyped-up to speak in poetics.

But the skunk understood this. And smiled, waltzing with her, slowly, slowly, to the couch (because the couch was nearer than the bed).

Her tank-top was peeled off. Tossed aside. Her bra being fumbled with ...

... as she tugged, unbuttoned, and unzipped his uniform, revealing more of his soft, silky, black and white fur, more of his bare, male body.

A squeaky sigh.

A throaty moan, pants down, pants off.

Panties in a dainty pile on the floor, with the other clothes.

Bodies bumping, blurring, fur meshing, limbs tangling.

Oh, blessed burden!

Oh, sweet relief!

Oh!



The lift-doors swished open, and Volga stepped out. Bic, who'd been in the lift with her, came out behind her, continuing to chitter in that chipmunk way, chattering about, " ... Anchorage. You can't keep it a secret anymore," she insisted.

"I am not trying to," the femme Arctic fox insisted, padding, padding down the corridor, turning a corner.

Bic turned with her. "No, but Ezri wanted me to ... to find out," she said, "from you, uh ... when you'd be taking the vows."

Volga stopped, raising a brow. "Ezri wanted to know?"

"She's in charge of the ship's gossip."

"It's much more likely," Volga said, "that YOU want to know ... and are not wanting to admit it."

"No. No," Bic whispered, whiskers twitching. "Well ... Ezri DOES want to know. Look, we all do. Yes, I want to know."

The Arctic fox frowned, resuming her walk. She was headed back to her quarters. She and Bic had been in the science lab, cataloguing recent surveys of the Arctic foxes' new home-world, which they'd left behind. The mass-movement of the Arctic foxes complete.

"Volga, come on ... " The chipmunk padding behind her. Her bare foot-paws making a softer sound when she walked. "When are you going to ... "

" ... tomorrow," was the brief answer. "We are saying the vows tomorrow." A pause in her voice. "We were waiting until Ural left the ship. He left this morning, so ... " And, again, the Arctic fox stopped. Squinting, this time, and confessing, her brushy tail swishing behind her and then coming to an uncomfortable stop, "I did not anticipate this happening. It is ... disconcerting, to say the least. You know what my species will do to me?"

Bic looked to her. Meeting her eyes.

"I will be ostracized ... "

"But the Arctic foxes and snow rabbits are allies, now. Surely, you won't be ... "

" ... an outsider? Yes." A sigh, and the predator shook her head, eyes wide-open again. She looked down the corridor. At the floor. And at the lights on the ceiling. And said, "Being political allies does not mean the erasure of an eternity of instinctive distrust. Many snow rabbits still despise Arctic foxes, and vice versa. We need each other, but ... there are too many wounds. Believe me, predator/prey tension will always exist." A sigh. "Anchorage has admitted to being scared of me. I am going to have to ... find a way to get around that." A frown. "It makes no sense for me to do this. It's foolish." A sigh. "But ... I just wanted more than Ural and the others could give me. I know what I'll get from my fellow Arctic foxes. It would be comfortable for me. It would be ... pleasant. But it's more about control, power, exertion ... pleasure ... there's no spiritual emotion behind it."

"And you want that?"

"I do not know," was the confession. "I'm not sure ... I don't know if I want it," she said, "as much as I want to ... know what it feels like to have it."

"So, you're ... curious," Bic said, "about love? And so is Anchorage ... he left the breeding parties. He's a new Christian. He's never had love. Never been," the chipmunk supplied for her, "in love. And neither have you. So, you're both wanting to feel something that ... you've never felt." A pause. "But you can't use him, you know. See, that's what I'm afraid of ... you can't," Bic stressed, "use Anchorage. You can't just use him to ... satisfy your curiosity about love, and ... you know? You gotta stick with him. If you marry him, and it falls apart, it'll damage his view of the whole thing ... he'll probably end up in the first breeding party that gives him an invite. You need to take CARE of him."

Volga swallowed. Nodding lightly. "I know," she whispered, very softly. "I intend for this to be ... permanent. I just wish I knew WHY I was doing this."

"Oh, come on. You gotta have some idea ... you don't just change," the chipmunk said, "for no reason."

"I blame it on osmosis."

"Osmosis?"

The Arctic fox's ears cocked. "I had never before, in my life ... spent much time around prey. I had met prey before, of course. I had ... abused them. I ... fought them," she said, "in the war with the snow rabbits. But I never got to know them." A sigh. "Ural was afraid this would happen. He was convinced I was vulnerable to ... change." Another sigh. "He was right," she whispered, almost painfully.

"Does that upset you?" the chipmunk pressed, her whiskers twitching, and her angular ears swiveling. Her brushy tail with the bold, brown stripes went waver-waver behind her. "Volga?"

A hesitation. "It does," she whispered. "In the sense," she added, "that it makes my life a lot more difficult ... than it was. It was easier," she said, "in a breeding party. No emotional attachments. It was easier ... hating prey. It fed my predatory blood-lust. My instincts. But ... now, this? Now ... my life will become a lot harder," she said. And she swallowed. "I fear I may regret it."

"Well, as someone who's ... been in love, who IS in love," Bic said, "and as someone who's grown in her Christian faith, I can tell you that ... those hard times? They're the catalysts for growth. You NEED them. You want easy, want familiar, want ... no struggle? I don't think that's very realistic. Or very helpful."

"I did not say I wanted easy," Volga retorted. "I am a predator. I can HANDLE," she assured, showing her teeth a bit, somewhat aggravated, "tough. It is simply," she whispered, "new territory for me. Faith and love. They are intangible. They are not based on physical strength or instinctual direction. I do not know WHAT they are, or how to use them."

"And yet you're going to try, aren't you?"

No answer.

"Why?" the chipmunk whispered. "If all of this distresses you so much, why are you going through with it?"

The Arctic fox breathed through her black nose. And swallowed. "Because I feel, somewhere inside ... that there must be MORE," she stressed, "than what I had. There must be more to life. And I ... maybe this is part of that ‘more.' Regardless," she said, taking a deep breath, "Anchorage is in a similar position. He used to hate predators. He used to openly breed ... so, who better to forge a bond with, to grow my faith with ... than someone who's walking the same path? Following the same road? We can be of great help to each other."

A smile, and a bit of a nod. "That you can," Bic assured. "Anchorage is a nice fur. And, though, honestly, even though I'm the closest thing you have to a best friend on this ship ... I didn't see this coming. But ... I think you can make it work."

"I hope your confidence is justified."

"Just, uh ... remember," Bic advised, stepping a bit closer, whispering. "After you take your vows, and you, uh ... can start having sex ... don't bite him."

Volga raised her brow.

"I mean, I assume that, when predators breed, there's a lot of ... using of teeth, a lot of shoving and wrestling ... prey don't necessarily like that. It'll scare him," Bic said.

"I gnawed on his ears once ... last week," she said. "He did not object."

"Well ... look, you know what I mean. Like, no hard biting, drawing blood. And you should probably file your claws down."

"I will not do that," she assured. "I am not converting myself ... INTO prey. I am still a predator. The claws stay." Her eyes indicated that she wasn't gonna back down on that. "Just because I am changing my lifestyle does not mean I am changing what I am."
"Well, regardless, it will require a bit of sacrifice ... all changes do ... "

"True. But the sacrifice will not be my claws."

A patient nod. And a smile. "Well ... okay, but you gotta be gentler. You're gonna have to adjust how you breed. Cause you won't be simply breeding anymore. You'll be making love." A dawning smile. "I think this is so cute!" she added.

A sigh from the Arctic fox. "Cute?" She began walking again, continuing toward her quarters.

Bic scurried after her. "It totally is. You gotta tell me details, okay ... "

"We will see."

"I'm your best friend!"

A toothy grin, and an added, "Very well. However ... "

"Yes?"

Volga stopped, nodding at her door. "I have reached my quarters. So, you will have to cease your ‘chitter-chatter' ... and become someone else's shadow. Barrow's, perhaps? Shouldn't he be getting off duty right about now?"

A giggle-squeak, and a playful squint. "He should. But I'm not going," Bic insisted, "without giving you one of these ... " And her arms went around the Arctic fox, in a friendly, warm hug. And then she drew back, smiling.

Volga looked a bit ... surprised. "I have ... very rarely," she said, "been hugged like that."

"Hugged how?"

"With warmth," she responded. All the hugs she'd gotten in the past had been hugs of predatory ownership, cold, natural protection. Lust. Nothing so innocent and warm as the hug she'd just gotten. She sighed. "This will take," she said, "some getting used to."

"You will get used to it," Bic assured, smiling, backing away. "See you tomorrow ... "

"See you tomorrow," Volga repeated quietly, lingering in the hallway, having much to think about. And, finally, she stepped through the swishing doors of her quarters. And went to the shower, where she intended to let the warm water wash over her, soaking into her fur.

Where she hoped to clean herself of doubt.