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The final three weeks of my summer business were taken up primarily by work at the Sunny Creek Golf Club at the west edge of town. Most of my clients didn't need much maintenance at this point, as the summer heat slowed their lawns' growth and kept them inside in the cool air conditioning of their homes, anyway. So I was able to focus on this one, large client. The club's maintenance team had suffered an unusual shortfall this summer due to an illness that effected two of their staff, and an unrelated injury, so they needed a few extra hands to help out. Craig and I were given charge of holes seven, eight, and nine of the Wooden Bridge course. We had to be respectful of tee times, so on days when the club was busy, we would squeeze in basic maintenance on some of my full-season contracts, then work at the club in the heat of the day, when the links were all but deserted.

All of this would have been much more pleasant, had the club's president not been the father of my arch rival in high school. Hayate Nezumi, a rather sickly looking mouse who always slicked his hair back and had a leering grin that turned the stomach of whatever victim that had the misfortune of conversing with him, was nothing like his father, Hiroshi. Hiroshi-sama was one of my brother's first clients, and was so impressed with both his and my work, that he had asked me specifically to fill in for the three absent grounds keepers. I had accepted before I remembered that his son would also be present, and almost wished that I had refused. I had to keep reminding myself that the money was good. But that also meant exposing Craig to Hayate.

The first day, we hadn't seen him all day, and Stu had joined us at the clubhouse bar near sunset to celebrate the contract and toast our good fortune, when our luck ran out.

We were discussing the trails leading out of our chosen destination in Zion when a wheezing voice came up behind me. I froze, chills going down my spine.

"Well, well, well! What have we here?" His smell preceded him as he lowered himself into the empty fourth chair at our table. "I don't recall my father opening club membership to brainless thugs. But then, we don't have an intelligence test, so I guess you might have slipped through the cracks, I suppose. I'll have to have a word with the new registrant staff. And look! You've got lackeys. Anyone stupid enough to hang out with you must be paid staff." Craig and Stu were both glaring, now, as he crooned, "Have you finally managed to make enough money raking leaves to hire a couple leaf monkeys?"

"Begone, Hayate," defended Stuart. "You know full well that Toby and I have been best friends for years, and that my family are founding members."

Hayate feigned surprise, with a little gasp. "Oh! The baby weasel speaks! And why should I leave, Baby Stewie? Didn't you know, my father is president of the club now? I practically own this place! If anything, you're the ones who should get out. Your kind lower the atmosphere of the club so much."

"Our 'kind'," I interjected with a low growl, "are what keeps your club looking so good. Your father hired me to fill in the staff absences on the grounds team." Immediately, I realized the mistake I had just made, as Hayate's eyes lit up.

"Oh! So you're staff," he drawled. "Well, Father made me supervisor of the links upkeep team, so I'll be making extra sure that your links look super special." He leered at me, then turned to Craig, whose teeth were showing as he growled softly. "Maybe I'll have your hired thug here thrown out, though."

He paused as a chorus of Japanese came down the hall, and Hiroshi-sama came into view with two business contacts from Japan. He caught Hayate's eye and waved him over. But before Hayate got up from the table, he saw the environmental reports that Stu had brought to dinner. "Oh! You're going to go make ritual sacrifices again this year? Well, maybe I'll come watch. Father is taking his investment partners to Zion next month." He picked up the top report. "I think they were talking about visiting The Mountain of Mystery, too. I'll be sure we stop by. If you have time, that is."

As he slunk away to meet his father's associates, he dragged his tail across the table, spilling a water glass on to the reports. "Oops. Clumsy me." In the uncomfortable silence that followed, I lowered my head to the table with a soft bump.

Craig was the first to speak. "Who, or what, was that?"

"Our boss' son," I answered, my forehead still pressed on the now wet tablecloth. "And my worst enemy."

"You can see how he behaves," Stu explained. "He thrives on making other people feel small. Mister Nezumi is nothing like him, and actually likes Toby a lot. He seems not to be aware that Toby and Slick don't get along."

"Slick?" Craig pointed his ears at Stu.

"You see his hair? You hear his words? He's always been like that. Someone in Japanese class connected that 'Hayate' means 'slick', and told some classmates. The nick-name stuck, and spread around the school pretty fast. Even the teachers called him that, though never to his face."

"His dad has a lot of economic power around here," I conceded. "It wouldn't pay to earn his ire, by dishonoring his son."

Craig made a little fox noise, that I guessed probably indicated displeasure. "So what do we do, now?"

I considered this while a busser appeared with a towel to clean up the mess from the glass. Once he had finished, apologizing profusely, and disappeared, I answered.

"We do the absolute best job we can on the links, and hope to heck he doesn't figure out which ones they are. Because he'll probably try to sabotage our work."

"In the meantime," said Stu, picking up the tab despite our signaled protests, "let's go to the sauna and forget about him for a while. If nothing else, the heat will dry out these reports."

As promised, through the following weeks, Hayate tried his best to make us miserable. One of the mowers came up broken, and all the other teams got theirs first while we were taking care of an outside client. Fortunately, we had come straight from there and had my mower in the back, but it cost time as the club had the massive industrial mowers and mine was a home model. We were contracted by day rather than hours, so it wasn't a huge problem, but it did cost us our after-work plans for the day.

Another day, the hoses stored near our section of the course had huge holes in them, and later all of the tools in our shed were missing. We had learned our lesson quickly, though, and brought the Jimmy and all my equipment each day, so that we were able to get on with the work right away using my tools and my hoses.

The worst came when I found multiple divots carved in the tee area, clearly deliberate as they were none of them next to the tee itself. And the clumps were missing, so Craig and I had to fill in the holes and replace the grass with new sod, a project which added hours to our work for the day. The sun was setting by time we finished, and Craig collapsed exhausted under a nearby tree.

"Once we finish the contract," he groaned, "If I ever run into this Hayate outside the course, I'm going to show him how much of a 'hired thug' I can be."

"Careful, now. You know exactly what happens to thugs when they're caught by the police," I advised as I flopped down beside him. "It might cost you some credibility against the Danes if you are found to be scrapping somewhere else."

"Pest control, y'r'onor," Craig made as though he were already in court. "The course was infested and I couldn't find a snap-trap big enough to take care of the problem."

I laughed and reveled in the idea of Hayate being nothing more than a wild mouse. "As long as his father doesn't hear of it. I understand he's rather good at Kenjitsu."

"Now that might be more of a problem," Craig pondered. Then he sighed, "I guess I'll have to behave myself."

"Good. I just got you in my life, I don't want to lose you this fast!" I kissed his cheek, and the inside of his ears turned pink with blush.

"Yeah, I'd hate to deprive you of me, too," he countered.

"The cheek!" I laughed, in my best Tom Baker accent.

"Cheek?" Craig replied, raising the pitch of his voice and sounding rather mechanical.

"Yes, cheek!"

"Physical characteristics, humanoid facial component."

Breaking from the script of one of our favorite Doctor Who episodes, I kissed his cheek again. "Yes, K-9. That cheek. And if you'll allow, I'll kiss the other one, too." I tried for it, but Craig turned his head, meeting me full on, with a slow kiss to my mouth. We collapsed on to the ground and were still kissing when a voice interrupted us from behind that made both of our skins crawl.

"Well, well, well. Is this how you spend your time? No wonder these links look so bad."

I sat up and looked around at the mouse. "Come to check in on your handiwork, Hayate?"

"Actually, Father wanted to see you after work today, and when you hadn't arrived, he sent me to find out where you were. I see, though, that you have been too busy to finish the work. Wait until everyone hears about this. Father will fire you for laziness, and I'm sure our old school mates will be very interested to hear that you've been making out with another male."

"No one is going to hear about it, you little rat," explained Craig.

"Oh, and why is that?" He replied. "Are you going to try to fight me, just like you did back in Cedar? The results will probably be the same."

News that Craig had been in a fight before moving to St. George had gotten around, but most people were ready to believe that he was the victim, and not the instigator. Hayate seemed to have different ideas.

"It wasn't like that and you kno--" I felt Craig's hand on my arm, cutting me off. I turned and looked at him.

"No, I'm not going to fight you, Slick." Hayate's face twisted into rage at the moniker. Few people dared to call him that to his face. But before he could answer, Craig continued. "You see, I took pictures this morning of the tee when we arrived, showing all of the divots and scars that we had to replace. And when we went in to pick up the sod, I registered the divots on the log book, and submitted a copy to the office secretary. And I also emailed a copy to myself, in case the office copies got deleted."

"What of it? Divots happen all the time." Hayate's rage face was slowly replacing itself with a look of worry.

"Yes, but divots happen right at the tee, and most of the club members will replace them, not hide them."

"What are you saying? Pictures of holes don't prove anything."

"Not alone, no. But you didn't do a good job of hiding them. I found them about half an hour ago, as I was heading back to disconnect the hoses, under that thick scrub over there." Craig pointed in the direction of the greens keeper's shed. "And a sand wedge that had a lot of dirt on them, that wasn't the dark red of the sand trap. But it was the same color as the dirt under the holes. And your name is engraved on the club." Craig reached behind the tree where we had been leaning, and produced the weapon in question. "It's still circumstantial, of course, but I think it's enough to convince your father."

Hayate's face was whiter than usual, and his ears were flat. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Under normal circumstances, I'd keep things quiet. But, you see, you're threatening Toby with the same fate I had when I was outed in Cedar. And I wouldn't wish that on anyone. So if you out him, and I'll know it was you because the only other person who knows is completely trustworthy - well, I'm sure your father won't go easy on you when he finds out you destroyed the course. Or the hoses. Or sabotaged the lawnmower." Craig waved his phone, suggesting that he had pictures of all of them.

"I swear, I won't tell anyone!" Hayate was now in a panic.

"You're right. You won't. Now get out of here. Oh, and tell your father we're on our way, as soon as we clean up our gear," I concluded.

Hayate began a hasty retreat.

"And Slick," Craig called. Hayate looked over his shoulder. "That's all you're going to tell him, right?" He waved the phone, the light of the screen shimmering in the now almost complete darkness.

"Yeah, yeah. I promise!"

We watched him go and I muttered, "Not that his promises are good for anything."

Craig wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my cheek. "This one will be. He's got too much at stake."

"You have a point." I kissed him back. "But come on, let's get our stuff and head in. Hiroshi-sama will be expecting us.

Hayate was on foot and we had the van, so we actually arrived just after the mouse, who was explaining to his father that we were on our way as we walked in to the office. Hiroshi stepped away from his son as soon as he saw us.

"Ah, Toby-san, and is this your friend Craig-san? It is nice to meet you, sir." He took up Craig's hand in a shake, and bowed at the same time. "I wished to thank you both for beautiful work on golf course. You have done great job. Our members are very happy with those links. Most beautiful links in our club, this summer."

Hiroshi's grammar wasn't perfect, but he spoke clearly and was easy to understand. And the joy he had in thanking us more than made up for it.

"Our directors very pleased that you are hired. Your links look best of all the courses. Maybe, next year, you can work for us, full time?"

"We would be honored," I bowed. "I must talk to my major clients, of course, before I can just let them go."

"Yes, yes, yes! You talk to other clients. Get their ok, I understand. It is dishonorable, just walking away. Please, let me know before college starts! Maybe, if I tell you, we make you greens manager next year?"

I glanced over his shoulder at Hayate, who was clearly burning with jealousy. The greens manager was his boss. Inside, I was torn; on one paw, I would revel in the chance to be Hayate's manager, and the temptation to get back at him for these last few weeks would be strong. But on the other paw, I'd have to work with him all summer. I looked back at Hiroshi and gave a small bow. "Nezumi-sama, it would be an honor. I will ask my clients and let you know by the end of the week."

As Craig and I left the building, I looked at him. He grinned back at me. "What are you grinning at?"

"That whole exchange. Hiroshi-sama wants to make you Hayate's boss. Think you can handle that little rat?"

"With you by my side, I can handle anything."

Craig grinned and took my paw. "And I have no intention of leaving your side."

"Especially my tail-side?" I laid my tail over his and could feel it wagging.

"Hey, that's not fair! I like your front side, too!"

"Ha! I'm sure you do, and I'm sure you want to see a lot more of it."

"Well, that goes without saying."

"Come on, let's get some dinner. I'm treating. Call it the start of my employee rewards program for such great help this summer."

"Oooh. What else come as employee rewards," Craig wondered.

"Well, Dad and Harley will be out tonight, as it's their montly date night. And I happen to know they'll be back late, which means we have the house to ourselves."

"What about Stu?"

"He had to cancel. Said his folks needed something and it was going to take all night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. So I thought I'd add, uh, dessert, to the rewards program, too."

"Dessert?" Craig's tail was wagging much faster, now, as we approached the Jimmy. "What's on the menu."

"Tiger." I jumped in the driver seat.

Craig hurried to jump in on the passenger side. "With fox cream on the side? I like it!"

"Good! Let's go!"