FSE

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At long last, my "skunk story." The most obvious influence for this one comes from District 9, and it will be somewhat obvious at particular parts. I hope anyone reading this won't be turned off by the length. Enjoy.

My day started out just like any other. In fact, I'd go as far as to say it started out like every other. Actually, that isn't entirely true. Every other day starts off with heavy eyes and false suicide wishes, in the advent of going to work.

I'm a factory worker, you see, or rather, I was a factory worker, working fulltime, five days a week for at least eight hours a day; quite often, it would be more than eight hours a day. My job was, to say the least, boring, tiring, and repetitive, just to name a few adjectives. Tedious is another good one. It was an auto-parts manufacturer, and my job, in essence, was to stand there and clean off the engine pieces for the next drone to clean a little bit further, and then after that I don't care what happens to it. The parts could all drop into a big fiery pit where they get melted and remade into more engine parts for all I cared. But as terrible and soul-crushing as my job was, I had to admit, come payday, it was just slightly worth it. Just slightly, though. Ever so slightly.

Each reasonable paycheque managed to afford me with all sorts of luxuries, the most important being living on my own in the city. Granted, it wasn't the best part of town, but it was cheap. Very cheap. But more than that, it was mine. Well, I suppose technically it belonged to my landlord, Ms. Tubbs, but who's arguing? My tiny apartment, after all, did contain my bed, my couch, my television, my xbox, my kitchenware, and of course, my computer. As well as a host of my spiders, my cockroaches, my silverfish, my cracks in the wall, and my leaky faucet - though if an inspector ever came by, the latter five belonged entirely to Ms. Tubbs. I was paying for my own Internet, too, for that matter, not some gross, unhygienic dog with a ridiculous last name.

All in all, though, I loved my little one-bedroom apartment. I always kept it as clean as I could, and it could even be very cozy when I wanted it to be. Which was good since I didn't tend to go out much, nor did I have many guests over. In fact, I spent a great deal of time on my computer (when I wasn't working), and when nothing on there could hold my interest, it was over to the couch for countless hours of skull-crushing, bullet-shooting, zombie-killing action on the xbox. My simple life in the city was probably not everybody's cup of tea - especially the complete lack of a real social life - but it worked for me and for the most part, I enjoyed it.

Anyway, the reason why my day started out not quite like every other, was because for a couple weeks every summer, the factory shuts down and we get something like an extra vacation. Unpaid, of course, but time off all the same. Having said that, I woke that morning still heavy-eyed, but full of zest and joy. And so far, a half mug of coffee.

I'd made quite a few online friends, and only a pawful of those I was truly close with. Unfortunately, the closest one to me lived in a city eight hours away, and with no car, or driver's licence, it was particularly difficult to go see him. But ever-persistent, I endeavoured to find my way up north by any means necessary. This, of course, came in the form of a northbound Greyhound bus.

I'd never taken a Greyhound before, and I had to admit, the prospect made me a little nervous. I wasn't really sure why, though, since it was just a bus ride, but my mind had a tendency to invent all sorts of amazing, unrealistic situations that explicitly abide by Murphy's Law. I had the tickets, though, for a roundtrip, so there was no getting out of it now. What's the worst that could happen, anyway? The bus blows up? A hijacker takes control and kills us all in a fiery explosion originating from a bomb strapped around his chest? No...that didn't seem very realistic, did it?

After taking another small sip of my coffee, I sighed quietly and stared adoringly at the tickets sitting on the small, stained table I was currently leaning against. This table, as it happens, I got for free at the side of the road, outside someone's house, on the way home from work one day; I was fortunate enough to be able to haul it home with me, since I didn't have any friends with trucks. Or cars, for that matter. It was stained from years of previous use, but it fit in perfectly with the rest of my tiny kitchen.

I then took another sip, then rested my head on my left arm, which was spread across the table so my fingertips just barely touched the other end, rapt in thought. My thoughts began with working out a timeline for getting to the bus terminal on time, which was at least an hour's walk from my apartment; probably longer this early in the morning, given my sleep-deprived motivation. So that meant I had to rely on local transportation... Did busses run that early? I glanced up at the clock, saw it was almost seven. I didn't take the bus very often, especially not in the morning, and yet for some reason I thought they started running at around seven. So...by bus, it might take fifteen minutes tops to get there, and my Greyhound departs at quarter after eight... But they like you to get there earlier for boarding, though I do already have a ticket. After long deliberation, I figured I should probably catch the local bus at seven thirty. Seven forty-five at the latest.

And after figuring out how I was going to get to the bus terminal, my mind of course drifted to my friend up north. He was a feline, dark-furred like me; a panther, to be more specific. He and I were unable to determine our feelings for each other, especially since neither of us drove and distance was always an issue, but we were, at least, very fond of each other. This was going to be our first meeting, and I think I decided I didn't want it to be our last. Either way, it was an exciting moment in my life; I rarely got these. It made me nervous imagining some of the things we would do together, and some of the things we may not, and I had to admit, I started to blush.

We'd shared pictures before, though, and he was a panther of impressive build. Unlike myself, I had a very slim build, and not particularly tall. In high school, I used to get teased to no end about how feminine I appeared, despite my occasional taste in clothing. I wouldn't say I was a cross-dresser, though, and I still wouldn't, even now. But sometimes I'd see a top I just love, and have to have it. My favourite shirt currently was of sweater-ish quality, with two-inch thick black and purple horizontal stripes all the way down. It was long-sleeved, somewhat baggy, but the opening at the top was very wide, accommodating my not-so-broad shoulders, which stuck out of it adorably. What do they call that? Off-shoulder tops? I was hardly a fashionista. Anyway, since it was a girl's top, it didn't quite reach the top of my pants; I didn't mind showing off my navel sometimes, anyway. Especially since I had it pierced.

I had a few piercings, in fact. One in my bellybutton, as mentioned, but also a few rings in my right ear. Oh, and my tongue was pierced; probably my favourite. All of these piercings, bear in mind, I got back in my more flamboyant days, back in high school, though I was never really overtly flamboyant - no limp wrists or irritating lisp, or exaggerated movements or anything like that. But I think everybody, by the end, knew I was gay, and I didn't really care. I still didn't, really, though I didn't go around advertising it to everyone I met like I used to. Unless I was wearing my favourite striped sweater, anyway. Which, as it turns out, I was probably going to be doing today; I'd sent plenty of pictures of myself in it - and out of it - to my panther friend, in some of my more erotic moments, so he wouldn't be particularly surprised to see me wearing it.

Of course, these days I didn't get out nearly as much as before, since most of my friends either moved farther away from the city, have outgrown me, or otherwise moved on with their lives. And of course working in a factory fulltime didn't present many opportunities to get out, and with many older, tougher, more macho men than myself, I felt wearing some of my more feminine clothes would be against my best interest. And so at work, I primarily wore the same old uniform: black jeans with a black t-shirt, and of course work boots, also black. Went great with my black fur and white stripe.

Suddenly, a low-flying helicopter startled me out of my reverie, and I glanced over at the glass sliding door leading out to my modest balcony. The curtains were half-drawn, but after a couple more copters flew noisily overhead, I thought I would investigate. With a firm grip on my coffee mug, I got up.

Within a few steps, I was at the door and already sliding it open, feeling a nice, cool breeze suddenly blow through my fur, and I took in a deep, relaxing breath.

"Put some clothes on!" some old man shouted at me, from the balcony to my right. I wasn't so lucky to have gotten my own private balcony, but instead had to share it with at least ten other tenants along the eastern side of the building. Old Man Howler, as most people called the hound, was sitting in a torn lawn chair, pointing away from his door but turned slightly so he could easily see me step outside, and of course the sight offended him.

I was in my boxers at the moment, with a loose-fitting tank top that I was certain came from the girl's section - I'd purchased it at the Thrift Store, and despite how it looked on me, I swear I nabbed it from the men's section. Either way, it appeared something about seeing over two-thirds of my legs, my bushy tail, bare arms and probably some of my side-ribs (and possibly a bit of my side-chest and a nipple, too) offended the poor old dog.

"Good morning to you, too," I said, barely glancing over. Holding my coffee mug in both paws, I leaned on the railing and crossed one footpaw over the other, then sighed quietly. I just ignored the rest of Howler's remarks, until he finally went inside. I sighed more happily now, a small, triumphant smile creeping onto my face. I could feel the slight wind lifting my top a little, blowing through the large arm holes and tickling my chest and belly. My boxers, however, weren't particularly loose, and so blocked most of this lovely breeze; they weren't tight, but still fit rather snug.

I didn't normally dress so provocatively - if you could even call what I was wearing provocative - but every so often I liked to mix things up a little. It wasn't that I was some sort of attention whore or anything, but I guess I would just get into these particular moods where normal, boring men's clothes just didn't interest me. And so I'd open the bottom drawer of my cheap, stubborn three-drawer dresser to where I kept my more interesting clothes. My purple-and-black-striped sweater was always on top, and I had to admit, I did have a few pairs of girl's underwear, too... I generally don't admit that too openly. But what can I say? I'm a sucker for cute clothes - in this case, one cute pink thong with small red stars and a tiny bow in front, as well as several different pairs of colourful, patterned bikinis.

But most days, if I'm not working and, for whatever reason, not staying at home - grocery shopping, for example - I would just wear typical men's clothes, or at least, typical for any teenager. Though I'd graduated from high school several years ago, I still dressed like a kid, for the most part. I did own some nice men's clothing, but unless someone dies or gets married, it's never warranted. Anyway, my wardrobe probably consisted ninety percent of t-shirts, jeans and cargo pants, as well as some summertime clothes like shorts and tank tops, each article unique in their own way. I probably even owned a pair of hot pants, though it'd been a while since I last went out with those on. When it all came down to it, though, it didn't matter what I wore in the end because frankly - and at the risk of sounding like an narcissistic jerk - I looked good in just about anything.

When there was finally another lull in the gentle, cool wind, I took another sip of my coffee - only a quarter full now - and sighed again, then looked up over the city's skyline, into the dark, ominous silhouette of an enormous alien spacecraft, wondering what those helicopters had been in such a rush for.

It had been two years since these ships showed up, and still no one knew a thing about them, nor what to do with them. There was hardly any warning, either, when they suddenly appeared in our skies.

I can remember hearing reports on the news or reading it in the newspaper, that astronomers and scientists at NASA had discovered a group of odd, moving objects from deep in space, a whole cluster of them seeming to head straight toward Earth. They thought it was too odd to be an asteroid, or a comet or something, especially a whole group of them, and so a few months after the initial discovery, when the objects had moved shockingly closer, they suggested they were looking at some sort of alien technology. Satellites, they suggested, or some other sort of surveillance devices; none of them seemed Earth-made, especially since they all moved in perfect formation together as they blasted through the cosmos. A lot of the crazier theorists suggested they were weapons, come to destroy us, while others suggested they were merely exploratory spacecrafts; a friendly race, no doubt, just as curious to learn about us as we were of them. Bear in mind, they were going on the assumption these ships were actually headed here.

About a year after the initial discovery, though, the entire world was shocked to learn that for one, alien life does exist - a lot of religious people were pretty shaken, but a select group decided it would be their mission to spread the word of their lord to them - and two, they decided to park their twelve ships above major cities around the world, including mine. Scientists, of course, went insane with the excitement, and almost immediately set out to learn more. Unfortunately, though, none of these ships had landed, but instead hovered around a thousand metres above the ground, not moving, not making a sound, or showing any other sign of life. Despite that, though, scientists were yet to gain access to these gigantic ships, since either their hulls were too thick, they had some sort of shields up, or they simply didn't know where to start drilling. So far, they hadn't yet built a machine - like an x-ray or something - to peer inside, to at least get an idea for what was going on in there.

The ships, each one apparently equal in size, are about the size of Central Park in New York, that is if Central Park was completely round; to my annoyance, the ship above our city blocks the sunlight from my apartment building for approximately an hour every day. Although they were round and quite obviously technologically advanced - given how quickly they'd arrived from their incredible distance - the ships, much like my apartment, looked sort of ramshackle. A lot of people presumed they were damaged somehow, and were taking this time to fix the ships, though it would have to be some sort of automated system. Either way, all along its underside were multitudes of pipes, dishes of some kind, towers, tubes, pumps, and masts, as well as many other objects impossible to identify. If you asked me, I'd say it looked like some sort of gigantic, shadowed machine you'd find in a skyscraper's mechanical room, or how I imagine the inside of a submarine would look. Either way, NASA said the ships were clearly far more advanced than they looked, though signs of intelligent life are yet to be discovered.

Having said that, no one has any idea what these aliens look like, and most scientists are skeptical they even exist onboard. Some still assume, given what looks like the large amount of monitoring devices protruding the undersides and sides of each ship, they're just satellites of some kind, and that their enormous size are mainly for travelling purposes, as well as a house for all sorts of powerful transmitters we can barely begin to understand.

Needless to say, Earth's relationship with these alien ships was a tenuous one. Whenever you go outside, or are anywhere within sight of these enormous ships - which is just about anywhere in the city, and even farther out of it, too - you can feel a particular tension in the air that you could cut with a knife. They have the entire planet feeling uneasy, paranoid, and afraid - more so than usual. Even after two years, tension was still high, especially when world leaders and so forth got together, since almost, if not more than, half of what they would discuss was what to do with the alien ships. Fortunately, no nation has yet had the balls to launch any sort of attack, since so far the aliens haven't done anything. But it's the popular opinion that they're up there, just biding their time, which does nothing to ease Earth's paranoia.

Myself, I wasn't sure what to think. I'd heard dozens of theories and suggestions, each one sounding either as sound or unsound as the next. Frankly, I don't have a problem with them being there, and they can even come down to visit if they really wanted, so long as they don't hurt anyone. Because the moment they do, be it accidental or otherwise, I have no doubt in my mind Earth - probably the US - will immediately launch a "counter attack." Still, if aliens did exist onboard, what were they waiting for? In my own, totally uneducated opinion, they were up there learning all about us, Earthlings as a whole, learning our history, our culture, our language, perhaps for the day that we do make first contact. Hopefully in my lifetime. I also hoped they wouldn't be so offended by Earth's violent, blood-stained history that they leave before saying hello.

Anyway, despite my hopeful opinion for the aliens' visit, staring at their massive ship for too long still sent a certain chill down my spine. Having said that, I finished the last of my coffee and went back inside, shivering slightly as I whipped closed the thin, translucent stained curtains, the ship's subtle silhouette still visible. In retrospect, I still hadn't figured out what caused more than one low-flying helicopter to race toward the ship, and for some reason that made me nervous.

Nevertheless, I threw my mug into the sink and took three steps toward my bedroom, then only one more to get to my dresser. I placed my paws atop it, as if I was holding on during an earthquake, and just stared at all the junk strewn about the surface, which included several bottles of cologne, various types of makeup and polish I hadn't opened since high school, some shampoo and other toiletries, and of course various bits of snacks and garbage I was too lazy to do something with. Really, though, I was contemplating what to wear. I had a bag already packed and ready to go, which left little choice... My black-and-purple top, of course, but what goes with that?

For now, I wrenched open the bottom drawer and pulled out my sweater, tossing it carelessly onto my bed, then kicked the drawer shut, with some amount of effort. I then opened the middle drawer, examining the few pairs of pants left inside. It was a choice between a plain pair of cargo pants I didn't like anymore, an old, torn pair of jeans I wasn't sure why I still had, or a baggy pair of camouflage "BDU's," as they're apparently called, that I'd purchased a couple months ago; I think I'd only worn them once. With my mind made up, I grabbed the camos and tossed them beside my favourite sweater, slamming the drawer shut.

I was then quick to relieve my torso of my girly tank top, then slipped out of my dark-coloured boxers. Since my apartment had no air conditioning, there was an oscillating fan constantly running in my room, and it was nice to feel the fake wind blow through all of my fur. I turned around, fully nude, and stood close to the fan as it came back toward me, smiling quietly as its medium-powered beam of wind struck my midsection, spreading outward and cooling the rest of me off. But with the clock nearing twenty minutes after seven, I hadn't a lot of time to enjoy such luxuries.

I spun around quickly on my heels and forced open the top dresser drawer (the easiest of the drawers to open), rummaging about for a fresh pair of underwear. Unfortunately I'd already packed most of it, and was left with a few scraps I would probably never wear again. In my desperation, thoughts of the bottom drawer flickered through my mind, and I had to admit, it was becoming more and more tempting with every passing second. I then closed the drawer partway and, after telling myself I was only going to look, I re-wrenched open the bottom drawer and peered in.

And like some sort of calling, atop an adorable blue tube top I'd found at the Thrift Store, was a pair of so-called booty shorts, black with a tribal-like red design covering it. I picked the panties up and examined them closer as the fan blew over my back. I hesitated, but looked at the clock just as it struck seven twenty-five - fortunately the bus stop was directly outside my building, and I had only to dress, grab my suitcase and my small laptop backpack, then bolt out the door. And so quickly I made up my mind, figuring I'd let myself regret it later when my balls are mashed too close together.

Carefully I poked both footpaws through the leg holes and slowly slid the small, revealing panties upward, thanking God for giving me such an adorable ass (if I do say so myself). Satisfied, having miraculously fit all nice and neatly inside the girl's underwear, I turned toward my bed, admittedly checking myself out a little in the plain square mirror leaning against the wall before grabbing my pants. I then slipped into my pants a bit more rapidly, fumbling around with the belt until I finally let them rest upon my smooth, boyish hips, sagging slightly lower than my pants usually would. Finally I reached over and grabbed my top, slipping in quickly one arm at a time, then pulled the rest over my head. I pulled the top down a bit so the opening fit nicely around my shoulders and the sleeves ended right at my knuckles - a perfect fit as always. I then glanced into the mirror atop my dresser, behind all the junk, and flicked my fingertips through the fur on my head a few times, making no real changes, then looked at myself a bit more thoroughly before finally deciding I was ready to go.

I then grabbed my laptop bag and for now, slung it over one shoulder as I grabbed my medium-sized suitcase and exited my room. Suddenly, though, as I passed by the open window above the kitchen counter - which was right next to the sliding doors to my balcony - I heard that familiar, heart-pounding roar of the city bus's engines, and I started to panic.

"Shit!" I said aloud, though no one was around, and took off toward the door, making sure I nabbed my ticket off the table first; thankfully, my door had one of those locks that lock automatically when you leave. I then clumsily bashed open the door to the stairwell, having no patience for the elevator (if it was even operational), and rushed down the stairs, dropping my suitcase halfway down. I cursed again, my voice echoing loudly throughout the vertical chamber, and scrambled to retrieve the handle. After a second, though it felt like I'd just wasted several minutes, I took off once more down the stairs, nearly tripping at least twenty times before finally reaching ground level.

I then kicked open the door with impressive, adrenaline-fuelled strength and staggered aggravatingly toward the lobby, growling silently when I noticed an old couple stopped at the inner doors, the man fumbling around with his dozens of keys. What do old people need with so many keys, anyway? Determined, though, I carefully approached the door and pushed through, not wanting to be rude but clearly in a rush; they just stood aside politely and stared in shock of my outrageous attire. I was certain they would have a long discussion about "youth these days" during their morning tea, or mid-morning tea, or whatever crazy schedule old people were on.

But as fast and panicked as I was, I wasn't quite swift enough to catch the bus, reaching the stop with just enough time to see it rush by and near the bend, its brake lights shining as if to tease me.

"For fuck's sake!" I shouted angrily as I tossed down my suitcase, drawing the attention of a group of high schoolers hanging around close by. I shot them a wicked glance and they went back to whatever they were doing. "God damn it," I muttered harshly under my breath, frowning furiously at the tail end of the bus.

"Y'miss the bus, Mr. Cooper?" a strange voice suddenly said from behind me.

A slight chill ran up my spine and I turned quickly. "Well I'm not quite old enough to start yelling at teenagers," I replied.

It was the neighbourhood creep, a spectacled grey wolf who everyone affectionately referred to as Four-Eyed Harry, or just Four-Eyes. They called him that because he wore glasses, giving the appearance of two sets of eyes. Get it? Yes, it's that old joke. Anyway, I had no idea if his actual name was Harry, or if it's just one of those typical older-man names kids give to older men when they don't know their names. Either way, I wasn't about to risk it.

"No, I suppose not," chuckled Four-Eyes. I had to admit, his slight English accent did have a certain appeal to it, though it hardly made up for his odd remarks and stalker-ish manner. I never actually had proof or evidence, or had even observed stalker-like activities, but most people in my building - most younger people - as well as the local kids said they've all had spine-chilling run-ins with him; I suppose today, it was my turn. Though I think when you live in a single neighbourhood long enough, seeming to never age, and try to act as nice to young or attractive people as you can - even if not exclusively - you're labelled as "creepy." In fact, some kids probably called me creepy, too, even though I rarely dress like this anymore; today was a special occasion, after all.

"So what's the problem?" the grey wolf asked me, clasping his paws together except for both his forefingers, which he pointed at me with a flick of his wrists after asking his question. It didn't seem to be what he said, so much as how he said it. It was hard to describe, but I suppose it was his unusual fascination in everything you say, and probably the odd and sudden upward inflections at the end of his sentences, or at key points in each phrase. He spoke very kindly, to the point where it seemed he wanted something out of you, or that he was trying to lure you in with a false sense of comfort or security.

I tried not to make a face at him. "I missed the bus," obviously.

"Ah," he laughed, "yes, of course. Perhaps...I could take you were you need to go?"

Suddenly that chill ran up my spine again. "Uh," I started, going a little flush. To distract from that, I scratched the back of my head. "It's okay. I can just catch the next bus. I just would've preferred that one."

"Well it's no problem at all, Mr. Cooper. I was probably going to head that way, myself; there's a delightful bistro that just opened up, that I really must try."

I found it was a bigger strain not rolling my eyes when the person receiving the eye-rolling was standing right in front of you. "Really," I sighed quietly. "It's fine."

"Nonsense," barked the wolf, a smile upon his face. I couldn't determine the origins of that smile, but he was being awfully persistent. And friendly. Probably why they called him a creep. "It's too expensive to ride the bus anywhere in the city these days, anyway," chuckled the grey wolf. He did make a good point.

"Well," I said, with obvious hesitation. But a single fur living on his own in the city was expensive enough as it is, and though it was only an extra three dollars, I suppose having as little money I did, I hardly had an excuse. Wait...what was I thinking? "I guess that'd be okay," I said, regretting every word as they slipped from my maw. "I have to get to the bus terminal by eight."

"Well, come along, then; I keep my car in the garage here," Four-Eyes said, gesturing toward my building.

"You live in this apartment?" I said, trying not to sound as surprised and unsettled as I was. Together we walked toward the garage, under the building.

"For almost thirty years," he told me, readjusting his large glasses with a paw. How old would that make him, then? "Back in those days, this was a fine, respectable place; one of the nicest apartments in the city." He then opened the garage door and we slinked into the dark, oddly frightening atmosphere of the underground. "But in the last five years or so, new owners really let it go to hell..." He almost sounded sad over that; it was hard to believe this place could be anything but squalid.

"But," continued Four-Eyes with a smile, opening his door - he was one of those few people left who didn't have automatic locks, "I suppose that's all in the past now." Then smiled oddly at me.

"Sort of like your glasses," I wanted to say, but I refrained. Instead I made one of those odd noises that suggest you agree with someone, then threw my laptop and suitcase in the back seat.

Finally we got into the car and after a bit of effort, he started the engine and we were off. The car smelled kind of funny, but not in a way I could effectively describe. Something like musk, mixed with cigarette smoke that had been mostly cleaned out with some powerful disinfectant; I was pretty sure Four-Eyes didn't smoke, either. Maybe he did, back in the day when this car was the nicest in the city. But after getting permission to roll down the window, I did so with pleasure.

"So, you're taking a trip?" asked the grey wolf, pushing up his glasses. It was somewhat alarming to see him do this multiple times while driving.

"Yeah," I said nervously, not sure yet how I was going to defend myself if the time came. "Up north, to visit a friend."

"Must be a very special friend if you're making that sort of a trip."

I just shrugged, the top of my sweater sliding down my shoulders slightly. "I guess so." It actually hadn't occurred to me that it was a bit more effort than I would usually consider just to see a friend. But I think by this point, I was ready to admit I liked him more than just a friend. Or did I..?

"It's nice up there," commented Four-Eyes. "Used to own some land up that way; nice place to go camping, or fishing and the sort. I even built a special little cabin up there. Just you and the wilderness, y'know?"

I didn't know, but I made that funny little agreeing noise again. "Well he lives in the city up there, so I'm not sure how much camping we're going to do. I've never really been before."

"You've never gone camping?" He sounded surprised. "Yeah, I should take you some time, just me and you. I think you'd really like the cabin."

"Oh God," I remember thinking. But I kept my maw shut and tried not to let my intense shudder show too obviously. I was starting to sweat a bit, even more anxious to get out than before. Finally, though, I managed to shrug again, trying to seem as natural as possible. "Never really been an outdoorsy person."

"Hah," said the wolf, slapping the wheel with one paw. "You don't know what you're missing."

"Evidently..." Then I looked out the window, away from Four-Eyes, though I felt his spectacled eyes upon me, boring a little hole in the back of my skull. I felt the sweat beading at the small of my back, and I almost felt nauseous the longer we drove. I had no idea if he was actually looking at me, too afraid to turn my head and see. But I just felt something so terribly disturbing in my gut and the back of my mind, it caused my adrenaline to pump madly, as if waiting for something to happen. I continued to imagine myself opening the door while driving and leaping out like in an action movie, remaining largely unharmed; the door was unlocked, too, so it was possible... But I'd probably just break my neck.

After a bit more driving, though, I think I started to relax a little, even more so the closer toward downtown we got. We continued with petty small talk the entire way, myself giving short, quick answers, trying my hardest not to sound like I was about to throw up. There was significantly more people around now, and thankfully, he hadn't driven off course whatsoever, revealing he did, in fact, have power locks, and I was now a prisoner inside his car. He'd probably take me to his stupid cabin up north.

But luckily, we turned the corner and I saw the bus terminal a few blocks away, like some beacon of safe haven. Unfortunately, with only a couple sets of lights before the terminal, we got the red at each one.

"That's a nice top you're wearing," commented Four-Eyes. It was nice of him to say, but given the way he said it, plus some of the other things he'd said, I wasn't particularly flattered.

"Thanks." All I could remember thinking was my incredible cursing at the traffic lights, begging them to turn green. But they stayed red, mocking me without rest.

"I noticed you like ladies clothes sometimes," he continued, eyes constantly upon me. I tried not to look, so I wasn't sure whether or not he was checking me out. "They look good on you..."

"Jesus Christ," I thought to myself, heart racing. I managed to squeeze out a nervous laugh, suggesting another thanks.

Finally Four-Eyes pulled forward, and of course stopped at the next red. He pretended to be irritated by it, but was clearly thrilled beyond words. "There a reason why you dress up like that?"

I hadn't ever really thought about that before. Even as a child, I can remember visiting a friend - Nicole, I believe her name was - and she would let me try on her clothes. I'd always asked, of course, and she thought it was great fun, especially when her and I got into her mother's makeup bag and caused all sorts of trouble. We tended to make a bigger mess on the floor than on ourselves, and despite the trouble we would get in - especially me - we had never had so much fun. Of course I was maybe five, or six, or maybe older when we did that, so I had no real concept of what exactly I was doing. But I remember I enjoyed it immensely.

Even later in life, when I was ten or twelve, her and I would continue to play together, and though we didn't mess around like we used to, some of those same activities would certainly go on. I remember especially enjoying a particular skirt of hers that was way too short even for her - she was an only child, like myself, but with much richer parents, so she tended to get just about anything she asked for. Anyway, it was very short, and not particularly tight, but it certainly showed my bum off quite well, and in retrospect, hers, too. Definitely inappropriate for a ten or twelve year old, but we both enjoyed it. And to go with it I wore one of her school uniform shirts, which fit me nicely, and even went well with the skirt, though it was definitely not private school-appropriate.

Anyway, at that age, I didn't have any nice girl's clothes of my own, and so I very rarely went out in public like that, and I probably didn't even particularly want to, either. But I loved hanging out with her and trying on all her latest fashions, which she seemed to enjoy equally as much as I did. Unfortunately, though, after grade seven, I think, Nicole had moved half way across the country with her parents. It was not only sad because I was obviously losing one of my greatest friends, but it also meant I no longer had access to her amazing wardrobe. And so for almost three years I had to stick with my regular men's clothes, or young men's clothes, which I loved just as much, but when I felt that particular desire, I didn't have much to go with. It wasn't until I got a job where I was able to go out and buy my own clothes, instead of relying on my parents, which of course meant I could shop at any store I wanted; I didn't tend to show them, though they were aware of my occasional affinity, the clothes I bought, unless it was for guys. I think they'd figured out pretty quick that when I didn't show them what I'd bought, they probably didn't want to see it. Anyway, before she moved, Nicole had given me that skirt I loved so much as a going-away present, which I continued to wear in secret until I quickly outgrew it, but I held onto it anyway, even now. It then occurred to me that I should try to find her someday; perhaps I'd Facebook her when I got a chance, assuming she was on it.

"Not really," I finally said, answering Four-Eyed Harry's question, carefully peering over. "Just like it."

Four-Eyes then responded with a smile and a very unusual noise that sounded something like a quiet moan, mixed with that same agreeing grunt I'd done several times since starting up a conversation with him. Finally the light turned green, and we were off, and in a short few moments, he pulled over to the side of the street to let me off.

"Thanks for the ride..." I managed to stop myself before uttering the word "four."

"Any time, Mr. Cooper," he said to me after I slammed the passenger door shut. He then craned around when I went to retrieve my stuff from the back seat. "Have a safe trip. See you when you get back," then I shut the door; that was an incredibly unsettling comment. But I just gave him a smile of sorts and turned to face the Greyhound station.

After watching his car drive away, I shuddered noticeably and made a noise, as if having to shake all the willies out. It hadn't occurred to me until I replayed that whole scene in my head, while making my way up toward the terminal, that though he and I had never met, he somehow knew my name. My last name, anyway, which I suppose he could have gotten easily enough from the list in the front vestibule of the apartment, if you had to call up to someone. Hell, for all I knew, he could have gone through my mail, too, which just occurred to me I'd forgotten to ask someone to bring in for me while I was away.

With over thirty minutes left until the bus was supposed to arrive - and it probably wouldn't arrive on time - I sat inside the large station and determined which terminal I would have to wait at; Terminal 7, is it turned out, heading north. I then yawned loudly and dug into my pocket for my iPhone, which I cherished equally as much as my laptop, using my thumb to rifle through my contacts, hoping I had - though I was certain I didn't - someone's number from my apartment who could gather my mail.

After much contemplation, though, I finally caved in and called my parents. They were somewhat excited to hear from me - I'd gotten my mother - and was of course curious to know why I needed either of them to do this. I didn't have the greatest relationship with my parents, which wasn't to say we didn't get along, but we didn't really communicate all that often. It wasn't for a lack of trying on their part, either, but mostly me trying to be solitary and having far too many secrets I didn't want them to know about, though I was certain they'd figured most of them out on their own.

The first example being, of course, my occasional taste in clothes, which they probably thought I wore more often than not now that I was out of high school and living on my own. But it ended up being, much to my surprise, in fact, the total opposite. A lack of social life tended to have that effect on furs, I suppose. But anyway, along with what they knew about me for sure in high school, I was certain they also assumed I was gay, though they no doubt tried to tell themselves that just because I liked to sometimes wear girl's clothes, I wasn't necessarily gay. But I hadn't ever brought any girls home with me, no matter how I was dressed, though on the flip-side of the coin, I hadn't ever brought home any boys, either.

In fact, I didn't have much of a love life in high school, either, though I had been out on a few dates with a few guys. Most guys in high school wanted to beat me up, while other gay guys weren't particularly interested in me or my taste in clothes, despite it only being an occasional thing; maybe two or three times a week, tops. Sometimes I would go a week or two with wearing only guys clothes, but I suppose once was enough to label you "cross-dresser." Anyway, of the guys I had dated, of course, most of them were only interested in one thing, and though I'd indulged their desires, not one of those dates made their way to second dates, which was discouraging. At least I knew I was attractive, which I suppose was all well and good, but especially later in high school, I wanted a little more than that.

Nevertheless, my parents had never found out about those dates, though I think they wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest amount to discover that's what I'd been up to all those nights, especially given the fact I didn't come home. I always called, of course, for fear of my mother's wrath, but I would never give a straight answer as to what exactly I had planned. Needless to say, I especially didn't tell them about my online endeavours, more especially my friend up north, which made it all the more awkward asking them to pick up my mail for a week and a half.

And yet to my surprise, my mother seemed reasonably happy for me, and was more than willing to pick up my mail. She then asked me about him, as if she knew without me saying, he and I were boyfriends. At that point, he and I hadn't yet come to a definite conclusion, given the miles between us, on our "official" status, but I think we were as close to boyfriends as we could get without actually being boyfriends. Anyway, my mom at least sounded happy for me, and seemed to approve of him, telling me she thought he sounds nice. Then after telling me she wished she'd known about this trip sooner, but telling me to have a good time anyway, I hung up my phone with an odd smile on my face. Then I pocketed my phone and looked at the time; twenty-seven more minutes.

It was moments after pocketing my phone that I realized in amongst the busy crowd waiting for their buses at the downtown bus station - and so early in the morning, too! - there were a few young furs, not much younger than me, sitting a few rows of seats away, laughing. But not just laughing at some obnoxious joke one of them told, but laughing at me. Amongst the deafening mumbling and chatter inside this acoustic glass box, someway, somehow, I knew these young furs were directing their laughter at me, and it irritated me.

All throughout high school I'd been teased, and when I finally managed to move out on my own, I thought I'd finally rid myself of such immaturity, but it would seem the past decided to follow me. Of course, for some reason I just couldn't look up; I had no idea who these furs were, but my curiosity was burning. Did they know me? From the way they dressed, which I only noticed from the corners of my eyes, they were definitely young, and somehow just from their body language, I knew their childish laughter and insulting remarks were aimed at me. I just...knew. But what were they saying? I suppose it didn't matter; what else could they be saying?

They probably noticed me the moment I walked in. Looked at me, this sweet young girl who looked a bit odd. Upon closer inspection they would have noticed I was, of course, a boy, though would probably guess I was older than I appeared. And as soon as one of them realized I was a boy wearing a girl's top, he would have immediately informed his equally stupid friends and just watched for a moment, as if unable to believe what it was they were seeing. Then after watching me talk on the phone, that probably sealed it right there: they knew, beyond any doubt, I was male, and I needed to be made fun of. Punished, even, for choosing to express myself in such a manner, a practice they were no doubt extremely foreign to.

There, one of them pointed. I tried to keep them in the corners of my eyes, and tried desperately to look like I didn't notice them, but I think they knew. They probably knew I was trying to listen, too. When I glanced over with a quick flick of my eyes, one of them had a big, stupid grin while the other made an almost disgusted face. I tried not to frown, and tried harder not to look noticeably away. Then another loud burst of laughter, one of them stood up and looked as if he was pretending to be a woman, which thankfully drew a few more irritated faces their way.

I looked at the clock and saw only a couple minutes had passed, but I figured I didn't need to put up with this. However when I looked back down, one of them had broken off from the small group and was walking toward me. Keeping him in my peripheries, I begged for the canine to walk past my aisle of seats, but of course that only seemed to draw him closer. He consistently looked back at his friends, as if he was dared to come harass me in person.

"Hey!" he shouted with a big, mean grin on his face, glancing once again back to his friends, who were watching intently.

I looked over, and with hardly moving, I glanced up at him.

"You wearin' some cute pink panties under there, too?" he asked insincerely. I thought it would probably be unwise to tell him I'd decided to leave them at home.

But still I glared at him, not responding. In reality, I was trying incredibly hard not to show how upset I was. What I would have loved to do to him was punch him right in the face, but seeing as how he stood at least one foot higher than me, and was probably built like a tank, it would have been a stupid decision.

"What, you're not talkin'?" the canine laughed. He was a Doberman, and apparently, a very mean one. Was probably a typical jock when he was in high school, captain of the football team and all that. I had to admit, he was quite handsome, but I think there were at least a dozen hateful things that trumped any good looks he had.

Suddenly, I felt my lips tremble a bit.

"Oh!" said the dog, looking over to his friends again, then back to me, "You aren't gonna cry, are you?" Then he laughed. "C'mon, we're just teasin' you. You come in here dressed like an idiot and expect people not to notice?"

"I expect," I said very modestly, "people will n-notice." Damn this infernal nervous stuttering of mine. My heart was racing as my words rang deafeningly through my ears, barely able to hear myself, much less concentrate on what I was trying to say. But I took a deep breath and continued. "But I also expect...they would show more maturity."

The Doberman then frowned and quickly raised his fist, as if to punch me.

And of course, I flinched backing away and covering my face with my arms.

This got an enormous reaction from his friends, each of them apparently enjoying this immensely.

"Hey, leave him alone!" a female then said angrily. She was lioness with far more piercings than I had, and probably multitudes of tattoos. Her headfur had obviously been dyed, and if I had any single word to describe her, it would probably be "punk." In fact, it looked like we were wearing the same pants.

"Feh," said the Doberman, lowering his arm. "Fuckin' sissy..." Then walked away.

My heart was still racing, still barely able to believe what had just happened. I then held my paws out, watching them tremble uncontrollably. I think I then heard myself sob quietly, then held onto the handle of my suitcase tightly, holding one paw to my chest. I took long, deep breaths, trying to get a hold of myself, but I was far more shaken than I thought I'd be. I wasn't yet sure if it was fear or rage which made me tremble so, but a couple reluctant tears did trickle from my eyes.

Suddenly, the lioness sat beside me. "Fuck them," she said, placing a warm, gentle paw on my shoulder.

"Thank you," I replied quietly, still shaking.

"You gonna be okay?" she asked, tilting her head. I felt her paw slide across my shoulders as she pulled me against her side. I could smell her perfume... It was nice. She wore pants a lot like mine, and a soft, large zip-up hoodie, zipped most of the way to reveal a plain white tank top beneath.

"Yeah," I finally said. "I'll be fine. Just a bit shaken, that's all." I was amazed at how quickly I felt myself calming down, all from the gentle touch of this kind, yet tough, stranger. I then looked at the time, seeing I had just over twenty minutes left until the bus was supposed to arrive.

"I should get going." Slowly I pulled myself away from the lioness, grabbing hold of my suitcase with both paws as I stood up, legs still a bit wobbly. "Thanks again."

The warm lioness just smiled and stood up as well, apparently having nothing but her backpack with her. "Well, we gotta look out for each other, y'know?"

I glanced up at the tall lioness, though it didn't take a lot to be taller than me, and nodded. I wasn't particularly feeling a smile, but I think she understood.

"Want me to wait with you?" she asked just as I began to walk. But without turning around, I simply replied, "I'll be okay," then exited the station.

After the heavy glass doors shut behind me, I craned my head around and looked back at the lioness, then to the group of young, asshole furs who decided it would be fun to torment the strange guy. They were back to whatever they were doing before, though probably still making fun of me. With a frown, I looked at my ticket once more, then up to the signs showing the terminal numbers, and quickly searched for mine; sure enough, there was already a small line of people waiting for the bus to arrive at Terminal 7. Though just to be absolutely sure, I asked the gentleman in front of me - at the back of the line - if it was the correct bus, which thankfully it was. I ignored his little pause before answering, when he looked down at me.

I then sighed quietly and leaned back against the purple railing, glancing out at the not-so-busy street, then upward a little to look at the alien ship. As predicted, it was still sitting right where I left it. And yet I found my thoughts going back to those macho canines - I assumed they were all canines, since at least two of them were - and their stupid comments. Despite my reaction today, back in high school, I'd swear I'd heard it all before.

Of course the most common word they had for me was Sissy, using it like a name. It went perfect with Slut, or sometimes Slutty, and on their more clever days, I even heard Skank once in a while. I was none of those things, of course, but teens just love their alliteration. Names, though, were only half the torment high school had in store for me. Even on the days I was dressed like a guy, which was the majority of them, I would get pushed around and severely teased by just about everyone within a ten-foot radius. It was generally instigated by one of the jocks, who would call out to me, then revel in pushing me against a locker. From there came the names, and sometimes a bit of smacking or hitting; nothing serious, but enough to make everybody laugh. By that point, my books or backpack were already thrown to the ground, and a group of much larger boys will have surrounded me. I ate a lot of my lunches in the bathroom, I'm ashamed to admit.

Sadly, all of that was just between classes. Lunchtime was the worst, since it was almost always an hour, at least, of near constant torment, and I didn't have nearly enough friends, let alone popular friends, to hide away in plain sight. I had a few closer friends I treasured more than anything in high school, though after they went to college we hardly ever spoke, any of us. But regardless, the four of us stuck together, which I think was the only thing that got me through it alive. None of them were particularly remarkable, either, but it meant no matter who they were with, they would easily be forgotten, which of course insured their safety. Me, on the other hand, I was doomed the first day I wore something different. I remember it so clearly, too, having loved that shirt so much; in retrospect, it was ugly and unflattering, but it was also popular back then, too. If I remembered correctly, I was certain it was a black top, form-fitting, with incredibly shorts sleeves, a v-neck, and some cute pink smiley face on the chest. Hell, I'd probably beat myself up now if I wore something like that, but at the time, I loved it. It was too bad the rest of the school didn't.

Anyway, though lunches and the minutes before classes were certainly when I felt the brunt of their attacks, classes were no better. They were far more civilized, mind you, but certainly no better. Instead of being pushed against a locker, guys would knock my stuff off the desk. Instead of tearing me down with their loud, insulting chants, I received notes - which I learned quickly to stop opening - or have things whispered in my ear at various points in the class, such as during tests. And instead of getting punched in the face, or anywhere else on my body, in class I was simply harassed incessantly during important team-projects - generally left out or made to fail - or with oral reports and the like.

The only class I ever took in high school that was like a safe haven for me, at least compared to other classes, was home economics. It was essentially me and at least twenty other girls, and though some of them tended to look at me disdainfully, the majority of the class seemed to love me. Plus I aced just about everything. I think some of the meaner girls wanted desperately to hurt me somehow - not in the same way boys wanted to hurt me - but it just never seemed to work. Probably because whatever gossip they would try to spread was either already being spread around, or nobody cared. How could you gossip about someone who practically defined the term in high school? I don't mean to sound proud of that fact, but those girls always amused me, where as the boys usually just frightened me. And apparently they still do.

I then sighed once more and glanced at the time, this time from my iPhone; it was eight on the nose, and I imagined the bus should have been arriving shortly, so we could start boarding. Suddenly, though, I heard a noise, one that made my heart race but wasn't anywhere nearly as exciting as an encroaching Greyhound. It was, instead, the obnoxious laughter of a group of young canines, no doubt looking for the next person to torture. When I turned, they approached Terminal 7, and I prayed to every god out there that they were catching another bus. What were the odds they were heading up north, anyway?

But much to my discontent, it seemed the odds were highly stacked against me. I felt my heart sink and my pulse quicken as they turned and headed straight to the end of the slowly growing line, and I wasn't sure a few people were enough of a barrier to stop them from bothering me. All I could do now was, as inconspicuously as possible, stand up and turn around, away from them, heading forward to where the bus's entrance would hopefully soon be. It then suddenly occurred to me that I was going to be spending an eight-hour bus ride with them, trapped in the rectangular box with no way out.

Speaking of which, shortly after their arrival, we were all finally blessed with the presence of our rectangular box, to the great relief of some. Myself, it simply spelled more dread. But...there was certainly no turning back. No way to go but up, some might say.

When I glanced back to watch the bus pull in, I noticed the group of five or so furs suddenly split apart, and after a bunch of stupid fist-pounding, only two remained. Suppose that wasn't so bad, though unfortunately the Doberman was among the pair. The other appeared to be a brown Labrador, tall like the other but nowhere near as muscular.

Finally the bus stopped and fat brown bear popped out of the door, and shortly after a young, scrappy looking coyote began collecting everyone's bags, mine included, and made my heart jump when his paw brushed against mine and he winked at me. Like a dope, I just smiled back and blushed, not saying anything. Of course, he didn't say anything either, but for that tiny moment in time, I felt very sexy. Once the line started to move, though, and I heard that damned Doberman's voice again, my sense of dread came back about as quickly as it'd left. After a couple short minutes, I'd handed my ticket to the driver, threw it back into my wallet - it was one of those leather ones attached to the chain - then climbed aboard, slowly cruising down the narrow strip and looking for that perfect seat; I found it in the back, predictably, on the side behind the driver's seat, with a wide, clear view out the window. I then quickly removed my small laptop bag and placed it by my footpaws, which - after I sat down - were for now comfortably resting on the foot-holds on the seat in front of me. I then leaned my chair back a bit, hopefully to catch a bit more shut-eye on my trip, and watched intently the rest of the passengers board.

And then there he was, the big, stupid, asshole Doberman checking out each, individual seat, trying to determine which one suits him best, and after spying me, he and his friend quickly realized exactly which seats those were: the two directly behind me. I frowned furiously as my head turned to look out the window, but it was drawn back by an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"Hey, Stinky," he said quietly as he passed my seats. "Looks like we're sharin' a ride together," then chuckled. That was another insult I'd hear regularly in high school. Every skunk hears it at least once in their lifetimes, but of course being as popular as I was, I heard it far more than others. Come to think of it, there weren't a whole lot of other skunks at my school back then...

Much to my surprise, though, after everybody was onboard and the bus started, we were off with little incident. A few times the Doberman would say something loudly about me, to his friend - then both would laugh - then kick the back of my seat to emphasize his point, but I think with so many people on the bus, he didn't want to say a whole lot too loudly. At least he had some sense of decency.

I began to wonder, after a bit of a lull in my punishment, where they were going in the first place. Up north, presumably, to the same city I was, but I wondered why. Were they seeing a friend, too? Perhaps they lived there, or one of them lived there and the other was keeping company. Though the latter would, I imagined, require a fairly strong friendship, though I suppose there's no bond stronger than that of two assholes.

"What's that smell?" the Lab would suddenly say, adding, "It smells like ass..." And then the Doberman would play stupid, trying desperately to imagine just what could be producing such a foul stench. Of course he was referring to me, but I feel I should point out I'd only had an accident once before in my life, at least in public, and I was in grade one; happens to the best of us. Regardless, when it happened, we had to have class in the gym for almost a week, which was great, actually, because it meant for four days, I got continuously pummelled with red, rubber balls. Every day I went home and cried, and though I was upset about it then, I was glad, in retrospect, my parents hadn't called the school and complained, because surely that would have prevented the assault.

Fortunately in my rush that morning, I hadn't forgotten my headphones, so when the dogs were finished another round of verbal abuse, I stuck them into my ears and listened to music. Something heavy would be appropriate, something metal. After a moment of pondering, I went with my collection of death metal songs, although not an enormous amount, enough, anyway, to keep me entertained. Relatively, at least. Between songs I would hear the pair chirping away, but I tried my best to ignore it.

It was hard, though, not so much to ignore it, but to not be bothered by it. Through the later part of elementary school and almost all of high school, I'd been teased and bullied for my occasionally unusual preference of clothes. At least, that's how it would begin. My taste in clothes was really just the catalyst to all kinds of insults, whether it was to do with what I was wearing or not. More people felt more inclined to point out I was a skunk and, if I wanted to, I could stink up more than an entire hallway. It never happened, but I was tormented as if it had. On the worse days, I don't know what it was, but the boys would be extra mean, and extra physical, so these altercations generally ended up with me literally getting beaten up. There was something about seeing my bloody nose then me cowering in a corner or against a door or locker that thrilled everybody. I didn't draw blood very often, now that I think about it, but I would certainly get bruised and battered a lot. I'd started to run out of excuses to tell my parents when I came home, as to why I had a black eye or was walking with a limp, or something. I think over the years, though I hesitate to admit it, that sort of physical - as well as the constant verbal - abuse had stayed with me, even after high school.

After a long, long three and a half hours, finally the bus stopped at what appeared to be a McDonald's, after being informed we would be making a pit stop. Which was perfect, because more than anything, I had to pee. Everyone slowly emerged from the bus, tired and sore, myself getting in a very good stretch. Of course moments later, it was interrupted by a couple asshole dogs, who decided it was a good idea to shove past me instead of just going around me. It was high school all over again, except this time I wasn't carrying any books to drop, and they didn't turn around and push me against the bus. I just settled for a frown and continued into the restaurant.

McDonald's wouldn't have been my first choice, but since I hardly had any, it would have to do. I normally tried to eat as healthily as I could, especially since both my parents were over-weight, which included daily exercise. This mostly came in the form of a morning run, every day before work, since I probably couldn't afford a gym membership every month, though if I could, I wouldn't have a whole lot left over for myself. Anyway, I had a few weights around my apartment I would sometimes use on the weekends and occasionally before going to bed, in a few basic exercises like sits ups or the like. I didn't have enormous muscle definition - certainly not like the Doberman - but it kept me slim, healthy, and in shape, so I wasn't complaining. Besides, if I was really muscular, wearing girl's clothes would look even more messed up, especially to other people. I liked my body just the way it was, and now I was about to do the worst possible thing for it.

The alternative, however, was probably worse, which would be not eating at all. A more clever skunk would have just brought his own food, but despite my early mornings - getting up somewhere around five every day for an hour run - I still would never consider myself a Morning Person. That meant despite how early I get up, I don't tend to function properly until well after the sun comes up. Which means less clever skunks like me don't think to make lunches before going on incredibly long, sore bus rides.

I stood in line, purposely at the opposite end the dogs were at, and waited impatiently, especially since I still had to pee - I thought it would be best to wait in line for food, then go pee, when the line to the bathroom was gone. When I was just a few people away from giving them my order, some stupid woman came up to the counter, butting in front of me and everyone behind me, and began to complain about her coffee.

"It's watered down," she said. "I want a new cup."

After short deliberation, the manager came stomping out from wherever he was hiding and tried to ensure her they'd made a fresh pot, but she insisted it was watered down. Who waters down coffee, anyway? Regardless, the manager conceded to the silly woman and put on a fresh pot, amusing me when he showed her exactly how he did it, and insisted she stand there and watch the coffee boil. She didn't, of course, and was not amused by the manager's sarcasm. When she finally came back, after the guy two people ahead of me finished ordering, the woman reappeared and looked at her coffee with no satisfaction, but she took it anyway.

Finally it was my turn, and having not stepped into a McDonald's since I moved out on my own, I wasn't too sure what I wanted. If that woman hadn't distracted me as she had, I could have perused the menu beforehand, but for now I had to decide. Nothing looked particularly appealing, so I ordered some wrap thing; I'm sure it wasn't nearly as healthy as it looked. It didn't help that I got a large fries with it, either. But despite how healthy I tried to eat, there was just something about those fries I couldn't resist. Anyway, I would just have to be sure to run an extra thirty minutes to work it off again.

When I finally got my food, happily ahead of the dogs - some family in front of them was taking their sweet time - I sat down for a moment to eat, and to wait for the line-up for the bathroom to recede. I finished about half of the fries by the time the last person exited, and wary of the dogs - I didn't know if they'd sat elsewhere, or were still in line, or what - I at least grabbed my neatly-wrapped wrap and finally went in.

Feeling more confident than I probably should have, I placed the wrap on the top of the urinal of questionable cleanliness and finally relieved myself. With a partial smile, I enjoyed the sense of great release, finding it almost euphoric compared to how my bladder felt standing in line. I didn't even care about my wrap sitting upon the urinal, in fact. When I finally finished, I was still in my mini-daze when the door burst open, and it didn't occur to me to look. I quickly zipped up, then glanced over only to see two tall canines standing before me. My heart jumped, and not because they were staring at me. Quickly I felt myself begin to sweat, my heart racing. "Oh fuck," was the only thing running through my mind, though it was somewhat amusing to see them trying to look tough with McDonald's takeout bags in their paws.

I promptly grabbed my wrap and turned to them, not sure if I should try to walk past them to the sinks, or wait to see what they do.

"You a fag, or something?" asked the Lab, which made his friend, the Doberman, glance over. Then they both looked back my way.

I didn't answer; I figured it was probably a rhetorical question anyway. Besides, I would have probably just stumbled over words and looked like a moron, anyway.

"What's the matter with you, Sissy?"

I frowned, but I likely came off as more frightened than anything. That is, until they stepped forward, when I jumped and cowered back.

"Leave me alone," I finally said, hearing the pathetic fear in my voice. This just made the dogs laugh.

The two continued forward though, until I felt the cold, sterilized wall behind me, and I was shaking. Suddenly, the Doberman looked me up and down, then grabbed the wrap right from my paw.

"Hey!" I cried, reaching out for it, but it was too far gone. I'd lost so many lunches in the past because of assholes like this, and I'd be damned if I was going to lose another. I growled, which surprised even me, and pushed forward, trying to get it back, but to no avail - all the stupid Doberman had to do was lift it in the air and it was way out of reach. "Fuck you!"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because a second later, I heard a growl and I was pushed back against the wall with incredible force. I didn't know who'd done it, either, since I was so focused on getting my food back. But either way, when I looked up again, the Lab had the wrap in his paw then threw it against the wall beside me, tearing the shitty paper holding it together, and all I could do was watch the lettuce, cheese, questionable meat and sauce unfold and spill onto the floor. I felt like crying, especially since I hadn't eaten anything but half a large fries that day.

I then looked back up at the two, frowning furiously with trembling lips. But this only incurred more laughter. Then the Lab pushed me back once more, grabbing my sweater with one paw then using his other forearm to keep me pinned there, while the Doberman looked as if he was about to punch me.

Lucky for me, though, another person walked in, someone who wanted to go pee, and stopped them. "Hey!" he shouted. "Get the fuck outta here!" When the dogs backed off, giving me evil glances as if to say I was incredibly lucky he'd walked in, I saw it was the bus driver, who frankly could have probably taken both of them, if it'd come to that. I was wishing it had.

The unfortunate thing was, I think the bear wanted all of us out, so I had to follow behind the stupid Doberman, still shaking like I was back at the station. I held my head low as we left, thankful we hadn't drawn any attention outside the bathroom, and got a regrettably good look at the Doberman's little tail. I just frowned and looked immediately away, then grabbed the rest of my fries and headed back to the bus, still behind the dogs.

The bus was full, or nearly full, and when the driver finished in the bathroom, we would likely be off again. I couldn't wait for this terrible trip to end. I angrily stomped up the stairs of the Greyhound, sulking down the aisle and to my seat, the dogs having already sat down. As I approached my seat, the dogs whispered something undoubtedly mean, and I finally sat. I received one nice kick to the back of my chair, but they were quiet when the driver boarded. He glanced at us, as if we were all being bad, then finally sat down, explaining we'd be driving for another three and a half hours or so, depending on traffic, and he would inform us when we reached the city. I just put on my headphones and tried my best to choke down my fries, though I had lost my appetite. Unfortunately, my hunger hadn't gone anywhere.

Within moments, we were moving again. After we got onto the highway, I looked out the window only to see a small group of helicopters soaring high above us, possibly in some sort of formation, though it was hard to tell, all heading back toward the city I'd come from. Though I squinted to see them better, covering the glass with a paw to reduce glare, I still wasn't able to make out what sort of helicopters they were, though I think there was some military training base or something further north. Could it be the army? Where were they going? My first thought, of course, went straight to the alien space ships. Had they done something? Started to move? Of course I was on a bus miles north of the city, the ship far from view. If it was the ship, I was anxious to know what was happening, and even more anxious to see it myself. Of course they would pick the one day I was out of the city to do something interesting.

But...I also had to consider, we were near a military training base. There could be helicopters flying about for any number of reasons, the most likely being for training. As I watched them disappear into the distance, I sighed and leaned back in my seat, then held my grumbling belly. Ironically, if I'd just left my wrap, they probably wouldn't have bothered touching it. But still, who the hell does that after high school? Nerds, dorks and losers get their lunches trashed all the time in high school, and probably even elementary school, but after? When you're supposed to be more grown up and mature? If only that lioness had been here... If only she'd given me her name, I could at least look her up when I got home. Or even when I got to my friend's house. Oh well....She was at the bus station, so I'd probably never see her again.

A half hour or so passed by horribly, the bus zipping by the same cars, the same old trees, same old lakes and same old farmlands. I'd been told repeatedly by my friend it's boring as hell where he lives, but I never believed him. I figured since he's lived there his whole life, of course it'd seem boring to him. And since I hadn't, it'd seem new and exciting. But after passing by yet another farmhouse, I was beginning to suspect maybe his initial report wasn't so far off. Oh well. I would probably find it far more interesting if he and I were together.

Suddenly, I felt an odd rumbling in my seat. As far as I knew, none of these seats had a vibration option... I tore the headphones from me ears quickly and pocketed them, concentrating heavily. The bus was, of course, vibrating all over, which seemed normal, but it was as if there was a second vibration, something not created by the enormous engine. I looked around the bus, nervous for some reason, though no one else seemed to noticed.

"Fuck's up with Sissy?" asked one of the dogs, but it was easier to ignore it.

Finally, though, something changed and the odd rumbling got more intense, and others started to notice. Even the dimwitted dogs.

Seconds later, after it seemed people were just about to start worrying, an extremely loud, screaming-like jet noise blew overhead, though it sounded like it was coming from all around us, then vanished. My heart started to race as several more screamed by, having never heard anything like that in my life. It was almost deafening.

My eyes rapidly scanned outside, but I didn't see anything unusual. Suddenly, a loud horn sounded, though it was like nothing I'd ever heard before. It sounded like it'd come from an incredible distance away, and yet was still very loud. Either way, a second after the horn, the bus jumped and rattled and shook, and people start to scream. The bus swerved into other cars, smashing them against that big white cement thing in the middle of the road, which was frightening enough, except it did it several more times.

Then came that screaming noise again, and seconds later, on the opposite side of the road, I saw a row of small explosions, demolishing cars and ruining the highway, but more than that it scared the shit out of me - not literally, thank god. But I backed as far from the window as I could, breathing heavily and eyes wider than they'd ever been, as if I didn't want to miss a single thing for fear of my life. Then more and more of those horrible screaming sounds, crying overhead as more explosions sounded. When I looked back out my window, I saw something fast fly into a farmhouse, like a weapon of some kind, and suddenly the whole thing seemed to explode, the biggest explosion I'd ever seen. Of course, I hadn't ever seen any real explosions before, beyond lighting a barbeque...which also scared me. But these explosions I could hear over the horrified cries of the other passengers, and I wondered why the bus driver was still going. If it was me, I'd have stopped and run for it, though when I looked outside again, I realized we were on an overpass . That, for some reason, filled me with an even greater terror.

When the screaming noises rushed over us once more, I quickly plastered myself against the window, quickly realizing they were not of Earth origin. Now, I didn't know a whole lot about jets and airplanes and technology and stuff, but I was reasonably sure no country on our planet had horseshoe crab-shaped ships with what appeared to be some sort of energy-based weapons - this theory was based entirely from my years of watching sci-fi movies - much less made noises like these ones did. They sounded like regular jets, and yet there was a particular pitch or noise to them that made them sound...otherworldly.

Finally, though, I heard normal jets rush over head, relieved someone out there was responding to this, and began attacking -as best they could -what I assumed were alien attack ships. And that's when I quickly began to realize, after two years of just sitting there in our skies, twelve of them in total, they were just preparing for attack. Was this an invasion? Why wait so long? Did they want us? Would we be slaves, or something? Or did they just want our planet? Quickly I began to realize, I was probably going to die on this bus. I was never going to make it to see my friend, because eventually, we were all just going to be killed. Global extinction, by my hypothesis, which was again based on movies alone. Either way, I felt an even greater dread, and almost felt resigned to it. While everyone on the bus was flipping, I managed to sit back in my seat and just stare at the back of the one in front of me, unblinking, just waiting.

I didn't want to die, for obvious reasons, but I felt like my life was just beginning. It was ironic that the day I decided to actually get out and do something interesting with my life was the day the aliens decided to start a sudden attack, with no warning whatsoever. Although I suppose they could have sent out a warning while I was on the bus, though I figured I probably would have heard something when we stopped for lunch. Either way, I felt an eerie calm come over me, all these chaotic, horrific noises surrounding me all blurred into one big, solid, ear-splitting sound, rattling the bus more than the explosions all around. This was it...soon we'd all be dead, and life seemed completely meaningless.

Just then, for some reason something compelled me to look out the window. I turned my head slowly to the left, moving my eyes to get a look, and I saw one of the alien ships falling toward the earth, flaming and smoking; we'd actually shot one down. But what was more frightening was its trajectory. We were, of course, moving forward, and though the jet was blasting toward the earth at amazing speeds, time seemed almost to stop. I watched the smoke smoulder from a huge hold in its side, and I could almost see it starting to turn, as if it was aiming. Then an incredible fear slammed into me, and I immediately tensed. My paws shot outward, one tightly gripping the back of the seat in front of me, the other gripping the small, useless armrest to my left. And though I'd felt so resigned to my own death, when I actually saw it aiming straight for me as if it'd seen me and heard my desperate cries, I wanted nothing more than to live.

Suddenly, time sped up. After watching this fiery alien ship rocket toward us, hanging in the air like a flaming kite, explosions all around it in the sky, and even more on the ground, time almost had to correct itself by speeding up, making up for the momentary break. In just a second after noticing this ship hurtling toward us, it slammed into the side of the bus.

A deafening explosion tore through the Greyhound closer to the front of the bus, blasting it to the side, and for a moment it felt as if it was teetering on just its right wheels. The rest of what happened was very much a blur. An amazing ring was hammering through my ears, and after the intense fireball burned through half the bus, I'd have sworn I'd gone blind. Everything was so brilliantly bright ,and yet somehow frighteningly dark, I could hear nothing but a high-pitched ringing in my ears. Then I think the bus tipped over, because the next thing I knew I felt like I was airborne, or at least out of my seat, and something was hitting me all over, until suddenly my whole body stopped and went numb. I could see only black, and hear fire and explosions all around me, plus the constant noise of those damned jets - both alien and otherwise - screaming overhead in a constant battle. And though I felt numb, I somehow knew I was greatly injured, but...was I still alive? My mind felt blurred and though it felt like it was a while, probably moments later, I think I blacked out.

I woke up an innumerable amount of time later, my head feeling like it'd been split in two and I felt various burns and pain all over my body. I found...it was difficult to breath, and my world was still dark. I think...I was still alive, except I couldn't see! The explosion had probably burned out my eyes, and though there was still a horrid ringing in my ears, slowly it faded and I heard fire and crumbling rocks all around me. Off in the distance I could hear the faint noises of more explosions, and of course more jet noises. I tried to get up, my right paw in great pain, but I tried anyway, finally managing to lift myself and get onto my footpaws, though a part of my upper leg was in pain as well. When I felt around, I realized quickly something was jutting out of my thigh, which despite everything else horrified me.

Then, much to my relief, I tried consciously to open my eyes, and light began to seep through. But my eyes burned, like there was something spicy in the air, but slowly I managed. All I could smell was smoke, but...it wasn't just burning machinery, it smelled like something much worse; if I had to guess, I'd say it smelled like burning fur and flesh.

Finally my eyes opened more, and all around me I saw a bus torn nearly in two, and dozens upon dozens of cars scattered about, each one far beyond repair. I was shaking beyond control, and when I managed to look down at my leg, despite the intense pain shooting up my back and neck, I saw a big shard of glass embedded within. I gasped aloud, and cried to a God I didn't believe in, but tried to remove it. I cried out once more, finding the pain far greater than they make it seem on TV, but decided my best option was to just rip it out - don't ask where that awesome theory came from.

Gripping it tightly, I held the glass with two paws and breathed as slowly and deeply as I could manage, finding even that to be difficult, trying to prep myself for the great pain that was sure to follow. Suddenly, as if my arms had a mind of their own, I tore the glass from my flesh, and though it felt like I was tearing out my fur, I was relieved greatly it hadn't been pushed in too deeply. I then tossed the glass aside and stumbled around, the constant roar of flames heavy in my ears, until I kicked something. It was then I began to feel really sick.

When I looked down, I saw the body of some nameless fur covered in blood, half his face burned off and one of his legs totally missing. I cursed and began to shake, backing away and apparently able to ignore the sharp glass and stones cutting my pads, then looked around. There were at least twice as many people, probably more, than there were cars, every one of them dead. Blood was all over the place, coating the ground and the cars and anything else even remotely close to one of the bodies. One body was nearly cut in half, having been pinned between two cars, and there were countless bodies under cars, their heads smashed or arms torn off. My paw then quickly found its way to my stomach, and what little I had eaten that day was about to come back up. After seeing a fur lying on his back with a large pole or some kind impaled through his stomach, blood having burst outward like a spider web, I finally disgorged all my stomach contents. Out from my maw thrust a nasty orange paste, reddened by blood and other chunks of stuff I could scarcely identity, then I fell to my knees, crying out.

"Oh God," I said, over and over, shaking beyond control. My whole body was trembling, and I felt so intensely cold. I then closed my eyes and held my head, crying and wishing I would wake up already, but of course no such thing happened. More jets then flew over head, and several helicopters, and judging from the smashed overpass, no cars or news vans or rescue crews were going to get by, at least not easily.

But...I didn't really want to be around when they showed up. I couldn't say why, but for some reason, I just wanted to run. The thought of an ambulance taking me away was as frightening as the alien attack, perhaps because in the advent of possible extinction, I didn't particularly want to be strapped down, or stuck in the hospital. Hell, for all I knew, the hospital had already been destroyed. All I really wanted was to feel the warm, loving arms of the friend I'd never met in real life. And so I got back up, feeling weak, scared, shaky, but determined.

I looked around for a short while, back toward the bus, to see if there were, perhaps, any survivors, but of course saw none. By some divine miracle, I was the only one left alive, or so it seemed. I tried not to contemplate that too thoroughly, since my head was still killing me. I did see, though, my laptop bag sitting under a few rocks, and the only thing I could think was "I hope the padding protected it."

I hobbled over to the wreckage, which was right near the bus, and still in a daze, pulled the rocks off and pulled up the bag, not feeling particularly inclined yet to see if it still worked. Instead I swung it around my back and looked around some more, still trying to get over the dead bodies strewn about.

Feeling confident I was, in fact, the only survivor, I wept to myself and stumbled away from the bus, my clothes torn - particularly my pants - and bleeding quite a bit, though I think I would survive. Then suddenly, about ten or twenty feet away from the bus, desperately trying to avoid falling over a corpse, I heard a startling noise. I whipped around quickly, my first thought being it was an alien looking to destroy any survivors, but I saw nothing. Just more bloody bodies, which didn't bother me as much now - I must have been in shock, or something. But then I heard the noise again, and quite possibly faint talking. My body was telling me to run, heart racing, but...I had to see.

I walked back up toward the bus, where I'd heard the noise, past a flaming car, then saw there was someone partially caught underneath one of the bus's enormous tires. "Holy shit," I said aloud, and ran forward, as well as I could, anyway. But when I got closer, I saw, lying on his back with one whole leg, and part of the other, trapped beneath the tire, that horrible Doberman who'd been insulting me all morning, and ruined my lunch.

"You!" I said, surprised and angry it had to be him.

"Please," he begged hoarsely, "help..."

"Fuck you!" I cried, baring my teeth. "I'll be damned if I'm going to help you!" Then I quickly turned and started to limp away, breathing heavily through my nose, face full of rage. But after ten feet or so, I slowed down, then stopped, then cursed. I could still hear him begging for help, and though I really hated this dog, something inside me was telling me to go back. "Fuck!" I shouted, then turned back toward him. In just a few moments, I was standing above the trapped Doberman, staring down at him angrily. "I should just leave you here to die," I said. Of course, despite my anger, I knew I wasn't going to be able to do that. Especially when I saw tears rolling down his face.

He then tried to speak again, but I could hardly understand it.

I just growled to myself, shuffling about and contemplating leaving, but my conscience got the better of me. I bent down and tried to lift the tire, surprised at its weight, and the dog cried out in pain. But I just growled louder and pulled with all my might, snarling at him to try to help. After a moment, though, I had finally lifted it enough for him to move his legs, and though painfully, the big, stupid dog was able to shuffle out from under the tire.

Without thinking, I leaned down and grabbed the Doberman's arm and pulled him up, slinging the dog's arm around my shoulder and though he could hardly walk, and was way bigger than me, I managed to hobble away from the wreckage carrying him with me, however awkward it was.

Behind us, another explosion shook the ground, making us both fall forward, and when I looked back, the bus had exploded entirely, sending large chunks of it all over the place, fortunately missing me. Then I got back up, still shaking but somewhat numb to all the death and destruction around me - possibly my survival instincts kicking in - and carried the dog further away from the wreckage.

The sun was already starting to set, and though it was just bushes and farmland around us, plus a bit of forest, we had gotten far enough away from the road where I felt it would be a good time to take a rest, and possibly set up some sort of camp for the night. First and foremost, I wanted to make a fire.

I set the Doberman down, not being particularly gentle about it, and searched around for wood, which was easy enough. I tried to remember as much as I could from the few years I'd done cub scouts, and finally set up a nice little campsite. Of course, much to my dismay, this thought not occurring to me until almost immediately after setting everything up, I didn't have anything to light the fire with, and I so didn't have the patience or energy to rub two sticks together. Fortunately, though, the dog had a lighter, which he offered me from his spot on the ground. I hoped his legs weren't broken, because I didn't have the patience or energy to carry him around, either.

I didn't thank him for the lighter, instead just frowning as I nabbed it away and lit the little fire, instantly feeling its comforting warmth. I threw the lighter back with little regard for the dog's condition. Finally I sat down, holding my injured paws out to the fire and almost instantly feeling the weight of a long, tiring, painful day. But when I laid down and closed my eyes, all I saw was countless bloody corpses sprawled across an entire field of wrecked cars, that image burned forever in my brain. I tossed and turned, but I knew I wasn't going to get any sleep. When I sat back up, I noticed the Doberman was doing the same, and I just frowned at him.

And for a long, long time, neither of us spoke. In fact, I don't think either of us had said a single word to each other that entire night, but instead did our best to sleep, though I could tell neither of us did. When I opened my eyes again, though, being startled awake by something that made my heart suddenly race, the sun was close to rising and the fire had long since gone out. "Fuck," I spat, still in pain and extremely tired, but I really wanted to keep moving. In that moment, all I wanted to do was be at the city up north.

But for now, I just continued to lie in the dewy grass for a while longer, fearing the amount of painful effort it would take to sit up, and also considered how heavy my eyes were. But when I realized sleep was not going to come to me easily, especially with the sun now starting to shine in my eyes, I finally attempted to sit up. Though my arms and legs and ribs and neck hurt, I did manage to push my body up off the ground, then get onto my knees and onto my footpaws. When I was finally up and steady enough to move, I threw on my laptop bag then looked disdainfully at the Doberman; he appeared to be taking a leak in the bushes - evidently, he was well enough to walk on his own now. After throwing dirt onto the quiet, crackling ashes and picking up my laptop bag, I sighed heavily and began to head north.

As I limped away, I then dug deep into the pocket of my ripped, dirty camos and tore out my iPhone, leaving the headphones in the pocket, and immediately tried to make a call, or something. Though my paw was shaking uncontrollably, I managed to make the screen flash for a moment, until a couple sparks flew from the spider web-crack near the top corner and the screen went totally blank. "Shit!" I cried, trying again, but nothing happened - lousy protective case did nothing. I then shoved the phone back into my pocket, despite its condition, and kept going.

"Hey!" I suddenly heard from behind me, but I didn't stop. I could hear the Doberman approaching, though there was a stutter in the dog's step. Good. "Hey," he said again. "Where the hell are you going?"

"North," I answered simply.

"Why? We should go back and wait for help"

"No."

Then the dog grabbed my arm.

I turned quickly and batted his arm away. "Fuck you!" I cried. "I'm hungry, and I'm bleeding, and I don't want to fucking go back."

The Doberman growled. "You'll never make it to the city, if that's what you're thinking."

"I don't care," I said, turning back around. I continued forward.

"Hey!" he said once more, coming after me. I was all ready to attack him if he touched me again, uncertain of where all this pent-up rage had come from, though I had a pretty good idea. In fact, I was ready to attack just about anyone. "Stop!" he barked, but I did no such thing. "We have to go back..."

And still I continued.

"Fuck you, too," growled the Doberman, stopping. But moments later, he continued after me once more, though from at least five feet back.

"You can go back, you know," I said, a little more calmly now. "I'll be damned if I'm going to stop you. Maybe the aliens will come back and abduct you."

The Doberman growled something inaudible, and didn't even stop for a second.

I just frowned and continued, wishing he would go back. For now we continued in silence toward a forest, which would provide perfect cover from the aliens, if they felt so inclined to attack the highway again, though when I glanced over at it, the road acting as the horizon now, it looked pretty demolished. Regardless, despite a few objections from the dumb dog, I continued into the forest anyway, undeterred by the thick underbrush, insects, and sharp twigs and rocks covering the ground.

Behind me, the dog was panting, and probably in pain, and though I was, too, I had to continue. I didn't know what had made me feel so determined, but nothing was going to stop me. I was so focused, I hardly even noticed the blood still pouring down my arms and legs, and probably other places - is this what it was like to be in shock? I hardly thought about a thing, save reaching my destination. I certainly didn't think about the wreckage and multitudes of dead bodies I'd stumbled over just to get half as far as I'd gone.

After at least a few hours of straight walking, again with hardly a word spoken between us, the sun was now hovering above the tree tops - this was after we reached the edge of the forest - and I noticed a ruined farmhouse and torched crops, and a sort of makeshift pond close to the flaming wreckage. I then began to feel myself slow down, my breathing becoming harder. "Fuck," I panted, my body starting to shake again.

"You should rest," I suddenly heard, and I had to admit, I'd nearly forgotten the Doberman was there.

"Go to hell," I said, pausing for just a second.

"You need to dress those wounds," he told me. "You're just going to bleed out, then you won't get anywhere."

I frowned furiously, but my senses were telling me he was right, though I didn't want to admit it.

"Let's stop at that pond, there, so we can at least clean ourselves up."

Not wanting to sound like a broken record, I resisted saying "fuck you." Slowly and surely, though, we made it toward the pond, and though it seemed pretty sketchy, the water did, admittedly, look fairly clean. I knelt by the waterside and as if something had taken over my body, against my better judgement I began to lap up the cool, refreshing water, feeling greatly relieved.

"C'mon," he said. "Take off your shirt."

I whipped my head over, water trickling down my fuzzy black chin. "Excuse me?"

"I can see bloodstains all over you - we need to clean you up, or you're going to die out here."

"I don't fucking care," I muttered, which at the time was mostly true. I began to lap up more water.

"I know you don't particularly want to take advice from me right now, but it'd be in your best interest to listen to me for a moment."

Why on earth was he being so kind to me now? Was it because I saved him? Would "dressing my wounds" make us even? Perhaps he wanted me healthy so he could beat me up some more, or maybe he just wanted to wreck the shirt that made him hate me so. Whichever the case was, he was right about one thing: I didn't particularly want to take advice from him. But after a while, feeling colder and weaker, still resting close to the pond, and ignoring the prickly grass beneath me, I finally gave in, my anger subsiding and being replaced with common sense. The sun was high and warm against my black fur, but I still felt cold.

"How are you going to fix the wounds?" I asked, glancing over at him. I hated having to talk to the dog, especially with such civility.

"They at least need to be cleaned so they won't get infected," he told me, having already cleaned some of his own wounds. He'd opted to tie strips of his white t-shirt around some of his own major wounds, and I wasn't entirely sure how he'd done the one on his upper arm. He was sitting about ten feet away from me with his top off, and I didn't even want to look at him... Him and his muscular--I stopped myself there.

Finally, though, I reluctantly removed my laptop bag, then my shirt and the dog shuffled closer, bringing his shirt with him. For now, he used what looked like a bandana to soak up water and clean off my wounds, starting with what was apparently a big gash in my back.

His big, strong paws held onto me firmly, and yet were tender against my wounds. I just sat there and growled quietly to myself, heart racing for some reason - which didn't help heal my cuts - hating this Doberman with every bit of energy I could muster. Logic told me to forget about my anger for the time being, since it was just wasted energy I'd need to heal, but I couldn't help it. This dog, who had been so nasty to me the day before, was now taking care of my injuries like I was some kind of child with scraped knees, and all I really wanted to do was punch him in the face and run away. But for now, I just tried to calm myself, finding I was still shaking somewhat. I growled once more.

A second later, I heard the Doberman ripping cloth - a lot of cloth - and raised my arms for me, then from behind reached around to my chest and began to wrap his torn shirt around, then tied it somewhere around my ribs. He then cleaned up a wound in my side in much the same way, then finally noticed the open wound on my leg, from where the glass had sunk in.

The dog sighed, and after looking me in my frowning eyes, I knew what he wanted me to do.

"No," I insisted, suddenly remembering the underwear I'd chosen to wear that day. "Fuck off, I'm not taking off my pants."

"Do you think I want you to take off your pants, too?" he growled. "Fuck," he spat, "I have no desire to see your balls crammed into a tiny pink thong that my sister would wear."

"Go to hell!" I growled. "I'm not wearing a pink fucking thong."

"Why the hell do you wear that shit, anyway?" he asked, lowering his paws. He still held onto the bloody, soaking bandana he'd been using to clean our wounds - I hoped he didn't have any diseases. The dog was kneeling beside me, I think awaiting an actual response.

I just growled and blushed furiously. "None of your damn business why," I answered. "You shouldn't make fun of anyone who's different than you are... Asshole."

"Fine, then clean your own god damn wound. Christ."

And for a long, awkward moment, the stupid Doberman and I sat in complete silence, the sharp crackling of the burning farmhouse filling our ears. Some pieces of flaming rubble suddenly fell, which caused both the dog and I to look over, but soon we were back to our own thoughts.

Of course, the only thing I could think of was just how quickly all of that had just happened. One second I was on the bus, trying to ignore the asshole Doberman as best I could, and the next I was flying around blindly and woke up with cuts and bruises and a massive headache. I'd obviously passed out for seven or eight hours, since I woke to a setting sun, and it'd only been around noon when the aliens attacked. Then it seemed like just a moment later, I was dragging my ass out of a forest and finding some water. It was all...such a blur, so muddled in my mind. Perhaps it was my body's way of coping with such amazing trauma, or something - I hadn't done so well in psychology class.

"Will you at least tell me your name?" asked the dog, breaking the silence at last.

"Why? So you can mock that, too?"

"Forget it."

Ah, back to the glorious silence. Personally, I was hoping beyond hope I wouldn't be around the Doberman long enough for either of us to have to use the other's name. But when I thought about it, it would take at least three days or so to make it up to the city, which meant three days of being solely in the dog's company, at least. And if something was going to kill the dog or take him away, whatever force it was would probably claim me, too. And that certainly wouldn't do.

Perhaps, though, I was being rather unfair. After all, I could have left him there to die, but I didn't, so I was the only one to blame for having to inevitably spend three days with the dog. Besides that, he was trying to be nice to me, having no doubt made the same realization. That, and I saved his worthless life, so he owed me. Regardless, though, I wasn't doing either of us any favours by being so rude in return, which I really didn't want to admit. But...it was true. Whether I liked or not, and whether I wanted to admit it, we did have to make this journey together, and if either of us hoped to make it there alive, we had to work together, too. Of course, I still wanted to punch the dog in the face, but it could wait until we reached the city.

Finally I sighed heavily, then undid my belt - I knew nothing about cleaning wounds and the sort, and it was clear somehow, the Doberman knew plenty. "Lauren," I said at last.

"Excuse me?"

"My name..."

"What, seriously?"

I frowned. "Yeah, fuck you!" I yelled, turning to look at him.

"It's not exactly a guy's name," replied the dog. I really should have thanked him for pointing out such an obscure fact.

"Go to hell," I said probably for the hundredth time that morning. Then I shakily got up and dropped my pants, rear pointed straight toward the dog. I decided if he was going to "dress" my wound, I would make him do it as uncomfortably as I could.

"Jesus Christ," remarked the dog. "I knew it," he said with a laugh. "Holy shit. You're actually wearing girl's underwear."

Then I began to blush furiously once more, then turned around. "I hate you," I snarled. "We can't all be big, fucking asshole jocks like you, you know. Maybe some guys like dressing like this, and they like the way it looks, and they like the way they look, and like how it makes them feel. Maybe this is what makes some guys happy, and you have no right to trample on their happiness. So fuck you!"

Much to my surprise, the dog wasn't getting defensive and angry. Perhaps he was only macho when he was around his friends. Instead he just shrugged, like my anger wasn't worth his time. "Well my name's Jake," he said, seeming to ignore everything I'd just yelled at him.

I was breathing heavily, wanting more than ever to hit him, but despite how angry I was, he was still at least a foot taller than me, and still three times as muscular.

Then the dog shook his head. "I don't get it," he simply said, then walked past me to the pond, where he promptly soaked the bandana and got down on a knee, now cleaning off the large wound on my thigh.

I was blushing still, feeling both furious and thankful. After a minute or so, the dog finished up and tied one last makeshift bandage around my leg, patting it gently as if to keep it there. He then handed me my pants.

"Here," he said, shoving them in my arms.

After putting on my pants, I reached for my shirt, careful not to tear any of my possibly-healing wounds, and looked at it carefully. It was dirty, of course, but so far seemed perfectly intact. But as soon as I turned it around to put it on, I noticed first a loose thread, then a big tear in the side, where my left back ribs would be if I had it on. "God damn it," I cried fretfully, frowning in a different way than I had been.

"What?" asked Jake, who had put on his black hoodie; he left it unzipped, sleeves pulled up.

"Nothing," I said, holding my top close to my chest. I sighed again, and had to pause for a moment before continuing on, as if to mourn the loss of a loved one.

"Are you gonna wear that, or what?"

"Shut up!" I barked, then reluctantly put it on. As I fit it over my head and pulled it down to expose my shoulders, I couldn't help but tenderly poke the tear, examining every broken thread. I sighed again. "This is my favourite shirt," I suddenly found myself saying, irritated by my vulnerability in front of the Doberman.

Fortunately, he didn't respond.

Finally I stopped touching the rip and let my arms fall to my sides, hardly able to enjoy the gentle breeze blowing through my midriff fur, as well as my shoulder fur and through the rips in my pants. I grabbed my laptop and swing it over both shoulders, then without looking back at Jake, began once more on my journey.

While most of the trip was traipsing through cornfields or wheat fields, with only a general sense of where I was going, neither of us had hardly spoken two words to each other. Every so often I would recall some of his or his friend's comments and get angry, prompting me to move somewhat faster through the terrain. Once in a while we would both have to stop to get our bearings, generally in the forested areas, but quickly continued on, making as short work of our conversations as we could. Neither of us knew where we were going, anyway, and so I found myself, for some reason, relying on Jake's unconfirmed survival skills.

And speaking of survival skills, I was still as hungry as hell. And every time I felt my stomach groan and rumble, I was instantly reminded of he and his stupid dead friend - Jake hadn't talked about his friend yet - totally ruining my lunch the day before, which would have at least staved off the hunger I was currently feeling. When my stomach growled loudly, I held it with my left paw as I ducked under a thin, whip-like branch; I should have tried to whip Jake in the face with it, but my mind was otherwise occupied. Where were we supposed to find food, anyway?

When we finally made it out of that forest, we were then plodding through the long grass of some random field, not containing an un-harvested staple, but instead was just grass and rocks. Perhaps it was a cow field, or something, which would hopefully mean there was a barn nearby, which of course meant another farmhouse, which possibly meant food, and a bed. All of that, naturally, depended on whether or not it'd been destroyed by those mysterious aliens.

"Fuck," I said to myself, holding my stomach again and leaning against an enormous rock.

"What is it?" asked Jake, who seemed reasonably healthy to me. Probably because he got to eat his lunch the previous day.

"You ruined my lunch," I said, snapping my head toward him. "I haven't eaten a real meal since two nights ago, and I lost all those fucking fries after I woke up from the crash."

Jake looked like he had something to say, but was resisting saying it. His lips were tight, as if an apology was about to slip out, and he had to desperately try to keep it in. Finally, though, his face relaxed. "I wasn't going to ruin your lunch, you know. I was just...I was just pushing you around."

"Yeah, I noticed that. Your friend is a real piece of work, too."

"Was," stated the dog.

"Huh?" Immediately after I said that, though, I knew exactly what he meant, and now I looked like the huge jerk.

"He was a real piece of work."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, and as sincerely as I could. I hated his friend equally as much as the Doberman, and when I really thought about it, I suppose I wasn't as glad he was dead as I figured I would be, when he was still alive. "I..." really had no idea how to finish that thought. What could I say, anyway. When I finally glanced up at the Doberman, he showed more melancholy than I'd ever seen someone show before, in real life; movies were chalk full of it.

"I know we were mean to you," admitted the dog, "but despite how you feel... Ah, fuck..." It was no surprise the dog was no good at expressing his emotions. But I just stayed where I was by the rock, making no move to comfort him. He'd lost his friend, but I was sure as hell not sympathetic enough to give him a god damn hug... Though admittedly, I felt horrible for thinking that.

"Guess that's one advantage to not having any friends," I said aloud, not looking at the Doberman. He didn't laugh, not that I'd have expected him to.

"C'mon," he then said, stiffening up. "There's probably another farmhouse around here. Hopefully they'll have something to eat."

Much to my surprise, the dog took the lead. We continued through the rocky, stiff-grassy field until we reached another wall of bush and trees. I just stopped near another large rock and watched Jake look around, like he was smelling the wind to figure out the best way to go. Actually, the wind was coming from the east, and I thought I did smell smoke a couple times, which meant either the field was on fire, or there was a barn or house that'd been torched. Either way, when Jake took off east, up the step-like, rocky hill, I was eager to follow.

By this point in our day - I'd have guessed somewhere around five in the afternoon - I was a little more used to the silence between Jake and I, and kind of preferred it. It meant I could be alone with my thoughts, though I didn't have a whole lot beyond finding food. Every time I looked around, I saw something that was possibly edible, though I probably wouldn't consider eating for at least another couple days. Like that strange berry bush we passed, with small red berries growing quiet well on it, but I hadn't learned nearly enough from my two years in cub scouts to know whether or not they were poisonous. My assumption was that they were, and I certainly didn't need to puke up any more blood.

When we reached the top of the small hill, we were graced with yet another field, piles of stones all over the place, and of course trees everywhere. But Jake was convinced we were on farmland, as opposed to just some field in the middle of some forest in the middle of nowhere. By this point, I think we were far from the highway.

After some more walking and rock-climbing, the sun, I noticed, was hanging quite low in the sky, and despite how determined I'd started out to make it to the city, I certainly wasn't anymore. My stomach ached for food, my footpads were sore and my legs tired, plus I felt like I was running out of breath. Remarkably, Jake was still going quite strong, and I couldn't figure out what had made him feel so determined to make it somewhere. He did seem focused, though, on reaching that smoky farmhouse, or barn, hopefully. If barns are anything like how I imagined, there be hay and farming supplies, and possibly some machinery, and maybe even some livestock. All of which I didn't care for, so if it got burned down, I think I would be fine with that, so long as I was able to eat something.

"There's got to be a road somewhere around here," I said aloud, ten feet or so behind Jake.

Jake stopped and thought for a moment.

"Why would there be a farm in the middle of nowhere?" I was leaning against a big rock again, curious where it'd come from. Probably dumped here thousands and thousands of years ago by a glacier. Either way, I was glad for it, though it did nothing to ease my hunger.

Jake shrugged and turned around. "A long path could lead to it."

"Pretty doubtful."

"Like you'd know, anyway."

I frowned, but hardly had the energy to argue much more.

"What difference does it make if there's a road, anyway?" asked the dog, slowly making his way over toward the rock.

"Well I dunno," I replied, turning away from him. I just held onto my stomach some more, trying not to groan. I don't think I needed to groan, anyway; it was pretty clear what was wrong with me. I then spun around enough so instead of leaning against the rock on my left shoulder, my chest bumped into it, and I really just wanted to fall over. "I don't want to die of starvation," I whimpered, no longer caring for who heard it.

"You aren't going to die of starvation," the dog told me, though he had nothing to back that theory up with.

"You don't know that."

"I won't let you."

I just scoffed.

"You saved my life..." said the Doberman, now close enough to touch the rock with a paw.

"Yeah, and you saved mine, so we're even now, right?" I turned around. "You can go back to hating me."

Jake frowned. "You're pathetic."

"I'm pathetic?" I said, frowning back. "Speak for yourself, asshole. What are you, twenty-something? What twenty-year-old goes around mocking strangers for an entire day? Or do you only mock the ones who can't easily defend themselves? Fuck you."

Jake looked like he wanted to hit me, but I think he knew I had a point. He soon relaxed. "We're both dead if we can't stop fighting."

"I don't give a fuck about you. You can drop dead for all I care."

Jake was back to frowning. "There's a farmhouse around here somewhere," he said, though I had no idea how he knew that.

"How do you know?"

"Because I can smell smoke coming from this direction."

"It could be anything."

"It isn't," he insisted, and given the tone in his voice, I presumed he knew without a doubt.

I then got up from leaning against the rock, eyeing a particularly appealing berry bush.

"Don't eat those," Jake told me, a bit of alarm in his voice.

"Why? Do you want to ruin these, too?"

I think he ignored that. As I reached out toward the little black berries, he rushed over and said, "Stop! It's Belladonna... Deadly Nightshade?"

I frowned, but more out of confused curiosity. "How on Earth do you know that?"

"My dad taught me," he said, paw only a few inches away from grabbing my wrist. "He was really an outdoorsy kind of guy. Wasn't really my thing, but I didn't have much of a choice."

"Fine," I said, turning east.

Jake sighed quietly. "Let's get moving, okay? The sun is going to set, and if we can get there before it does, all the better."

And once more, the Doberman and I were off, plodding through the long grass and rocky terrain, taking almost no time at all for me to become sore again. We cut through a forest, gaining absolutely to pleasure from the spider webs hitting my face, and even less from the branches hitting and scraping me all over. Plus I couldn't see the ground very well, especially with the setting sun, so there were multiple times where I nearly fell or twisted my ankle, let alone stepping on sharp rocks or stubbing my toes. But the reward greatly outweighed the trials.

When we finally emerged from the brush, we were once again blessed with an open field, and at the far end was a demolished barn and a half-ruined home. Jake and I rushed toward it as well as our sore bodies could take us, myself reenergized by the proposition of food.

The house itself looked like it was in fairly good condition, besides the upper floor on the east end looking a bit ruined, but I was far more concerned with the condition of the kitchen, which by my estimate was still good.

The lights were all off, and it seemed as if nobody was home, and upon closer inspection of the house, I noticed a dirt path leading to a big group of trees, splitting it in two as it no doubt winded through for longer than I'd want to travel. When we finally stopped, I had to ignore the "told you so" attitude from the dog, then we cautiously made our way inside.

The lights were all off, and dust and debris was all over the place, like it hadn't been used for a while. The barn had probably been destroyed by the aliens, since that's where the smoke was coming from, but the house looked as if it'd just been condemned for countless years, and had started to cave in on itself. Either way, my biggest concern was finding edible food.

"Think there's power?" I asked Jake, who seemed to know these things.

"I dunno." We were both speaking quietly and moving around slowly, as if waiting for some enemy to pop out and attack. "If we find the circuit breaker, it'll probably be in the basement, or cellar."

In any TV show or movie I'd ever seen, that's where it always was, so I was inclined to agree. After opening a couple doors, both leading to closets, we finally found the one leading downstairs, and it was even creepier than the house. Needless to say, Jake went first. After a bit of careful moving, we finally spotted it, just barely within the crack of light pouring in through the open door. The dog hesitated before flicking some switch, then flicked it, and nothing happened. He flicked it several more times, then left it in the opposite position it'd been in, presumably the ON position.

"Try the lights," he said, as if I knew where the light switch was. But after some doing, I did manage to find it, and when I flicked it on and off, nothing happened.

"Well that figures," I said with a frown, heading back up the stairs. "They'd better have some god damn Spam, or something."

I thought I heard a laugh from the dog, but I wasn't sure; it had been masked by the loud creaking in the stairs, if it was a laugh.

Back in the kitchen, the dog and I looked around for food, and like a fool I whipped open the fridge. Inside was what appeared to be years worth of rotting food, and in an instant I was blown away by a smell so foul, it had literally brought tears to my eyes. I probably would have thrown up, too, if there was anything left. "Holy fuck," I cried, covering my nose, and Jake slammed the door shut for me. "Oh, god, that..." I couldn't even finish my statement.

"Idiot," said Jake with an amused smile, and I couldn't tell what my level of offence should be.

So I decided to ignore it and check all the cupboards. Plates, cups, glasses... Then I found a bunch of stuff, none of which looked edible by this point. But lo and behold, Jake had opened the cupboard containing all sorts of canned goods. I rushed over, standing less than a foot near him, and peered in. I saw all sorts of soup and canned vegetables, none of which looked appealing, though I did have to bear in mind, beggars can't be choosers. Finally, though, after shoving aside some canned peas, I noticed a few cans of canned meat. It didn't have any spices or mayonnaise or anything to go with it, but it was at least still good for another ten years, or something.

I quickly nabbed the first can my paw could touch, thankful it was chicken and not tuna, and I ravenously ripped off the lid, and after searching around for a fork - I had to be civil, after all - I dug in, enjoying it way more than I probably should have. "Oh, god," I said, simply dropping the empty can. "Canned meat has never tasted so good." I rubbed my belly, which wasn't full, but it was certainly satisfied.

Jake ate something a bit less voraciously than I did, probably because he'd eaten something within the last twenty-four hours.

I then looked around for something with a bit more variety, and though my options were pretty limited, I did grab a can of corn - not of the creamed variety - and managed to gobble that down with some amount of satisfaction. I then sighed and let myself slide down the side of the counter, now sitting on the dusty kitchen floor.

"We should probably camp out for the night," the dog told me.

"You think?" I replied sarcastically, though I think he meant set up camp outside. He apparently ignored that, though, since he walked over my legs and left the kitchen through the classic creaky screen door and probably began searching for firewood; the barn would be a good place to start.

Shortly after he left, I glanced down at the tear in my sweater, and with a paw carefully caressed it once more, a slight heaviness to my heart. I suppose in the grand scheme of things, this was hardly a loss, but still. It was my favourite top I think I'd ever owned, and it was now ruined. I wasn't even sure if I could repair it myself; I especially couldn't now. I learned a ton from my home economics classes in high school, the first of which included sewing. But...well, I suppose it could be easy enough. After a bit of thinking, and more remembering than anything, I sighed when I recalled I hadn't the supplies. Although...perhaps somewhere, they did here.

Feeling somewhat excited, I hopped up, regretting it when my back started to ache, then immediately glanced around the kitchen. When nothing popped out at me, I thought about the most logical place for sewing equipment to be, more especially in a farmhouse. Strangely enough, this particular hobby didn't pop up too often in movies. But I endeavoured to find it. At my parents' house, my mom kept all her sewing stuff in the back room, with the washer and dryer. But this house was big, and could possibly have it...well, anywhere else. Could even be a sewing drawer in the kitchen, for all I knew.

After quickly scanning all the drawers, I paced around and decided to check out upstairs. The place reminded me of some of the post-apocalyptic video games I'd play; everything looked as if the owners had just up and left, and only time and weather had turned it into the dusty, rotting corpse of a house it was. Paintings looked old and worn out, as well as all the photographs and decor; the wall paper, which looked incredibly old to begin with, was peeling all over, revealing the unattractive wood behind it; papers and small bits of debris lay all over the floor, and dust had collected everywhere.

After taking a quick glance around at all the rooms, I went into the master bedroom first, searching all the drawers. Nothing. Then into the other rooms, then the bathroom, and still was left with nothing. Not even the old armoire had anything helpful. Figured there'd at least be some thread or needles around, but nada.

I then headed back downstairs and searched briefly around the living room and dining room, though I wasn't expecting much, then creaked open the door to the cellar, which frightened me. Especially with no power. But I went down anyway, the last of the sunlight barely lighting a thing, even through the small windows near the ceiling. I managed to locate the washer and dryer, and though it and a shelf seemed to contain everything I'd except it to - including some old bleach and other chemicals that were probably illegal now - still no sewing stuff. There was even a really old sewing machine, for god's sake, but no thread. Finally I gave up, and leaned hard against the dryer.

But as soon as I did, I heard an amazing crash from somewhere behind me, and I screamed and jumped a mile, plastered against the furthest thing I could reach. I was shaking again, heart racing and adrenaline pumping. After a solid minute, I finally worked up the nerves to investigate, figuring it was probably some pest, but much to my surprise and delight, I saw lying on the floor a whole bunch of sewing needles, glinting in the faint twilight seeping through the windows. I gasped excitedly and carefully rummaged around, grabbing a pawful of thread spools and a few needles, not wanting to come back down here if I'd grabbed the wrong things.

Energized, I ran up the stairs and into the kitchen, throwing the sewing supplies onto the small table near the entrance. I quickly, yet carefully, removed my top and spread it out eagerly onto the table, closely examining the tear. If I remembered correctly...it shouldn't be too difficult, though it probably wouldn't fit exactly like how I remembered it.

"Lauren!" I suddenly heard, which made me perk my ears. But I ignored it.

I then sifted through the spools of thread and found the darkest one I could, the dimming light making it harder to see exact colours. Then after finding the appropriate needle, I very patiently tried to stick the thread into the hole, but it wasn't easy. Then I heard my name again, but I was concentrating heavily on threading the damn needle; my patience was quickly wearing thin. Finally, though, after a couple excruciating minutes, I did it, and I cried out in delight.

Suddenly, though, I whipped my head to the left when I heard the door screech open; it was the stupid dog again. "Hey, what're you..?" Jake stopped himself when he saw me leaning on the table on both elbows, topless with a needle in my paw.

"Nothing," I said, then pulled the thread through a little more, so I wouldn't accidentally lose it, which always drove me crazy.

"Are you fixing your shirt?" he asked as if I was insane for even contemplating it.

"So what?" I frowned, getting started.

"It's just a shirt."

"Yeah, well it's my most favourite shirt that I've ever owned. I suppose when you wear two dollar white t-shirts all the time, it's a pretty crazy concept."

The dog didn't respond to that.

"Feh. You probably don't have a favourite anything. Can't appreciate the little things in life, like good friends, tasty food and favourite shirts. A good time to you is probably making assholes like me feel even worse about themselves, where as I'm just as happy to sit around the house all day doing nothing. Maybe have a couple friends over and just hang out. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you." In the silence of the decaying farmhouse, I could hear Jake breathing heavily, until he finally left. I just gave the closed door a final frown and continued with my sewing, until ten or fifteen minutes later, I finally finished.

Feeling accomplished, I hugged my sweater, finding that a bit odd myself, but didn't put it on yet. I was afraid, almost, that I'd screwed it up in such a way that it wouldn't fit right or I couldn't wear it at all, and wanted to preserve it for as long as possible. When I glanced at it again, holding it out at arm's length, I noticed the nasty bloodstains, hoping they would come out - I obviously couldn't use bleach. A moment later, though, I started to hear odd noises, and I listened intently. I think they were coming from outside.

I slowly opened the creaky door as quietly as I possibly could, and when I peered out into the field, I quickly saw, fifteen or twenty feet away from the house, a big stupid Doberman sitting next to a big, roaring flame, back toward me. When I got closer, I think I could faintly hear him...crying?

And instantly, I started to feel guilty. I ran everything I'd said to him in my head, and though I couldn't think of anything that would upset him this much, it had to have been something. And if it wasn't me, then what?

"Fuck," I heard him say, wiping some tears from his face. I couldn't tell if he'd noticed me yet, but he continued to cry, though he wasn't bawling his eyes out. It was more like a quiet weeping, evidenced through the sounds of his breathing and his runny nose, plus his continuous wiping of the tears. "I'm sorry, Colin," wept the dog, taking in a heavy breath as he rested his head on his arms, which were both lying horizontally across his knees.

"Who's Colin?" I asked, having a reasonably good idea. I approached the dog slowly, but still stayed a good five feet away.

Jake seemed startled, whipping his head toward me in apparent fright. "Oh, fuck," he said, sighing very heavily. He sniffled once again, then went back to resting his head. "Nobody."

I suppose I should have expected that answer.

"No one cries over nobody."

Jake sighed again, and I could hear he was trying to hide his recent crying. But after a long, long moment, myself barely moving, finally the dog continued. "He's...he was my best friend... Despite what you think, I did have friends. Real friends, and I was very close to them. I knew Colin since he and I were both puppies. If I hadn't begged him to come with me, he..." Jake choked up, but I knew what he was going to say. Evidently, the dog did have a heart.

And of course, I continued to feel bad, especially for the comments I'd made in the kitchen earlier. Like me, apparently he had a few very close friends whom he loved very much, obviously way more than I realized, though if he was in a different state of mind, I think he would understand why I would think that. Apparently one activity both he and his close friends love is tormenting poor little skunks.

Despite feeling terrible for him, barely able to imagine what it would be like for me to lose someone so close, I also didn't feel particularly compelled to get all that near the dog. After all, if not for the lioness back at the bus station, he'd probably have punched me right in the face. And yet here he was, trying desperately to dry his tears. He was vulnerable, and I knew whenever I felt like this, all I wanted was a warm, comforting hug. Of course, a hug from me would probably incur some kind of violence.

Slowly, though, I inched closer toward the sobering dog, but at the last second I opted instead to take a seat next to him, a little less than two feet away - I'd just kept my sweater inside, for the time being. I glanced over, and in the warm glow of the fire, saw a few spots on his dark-furred face where tears had dried. Finally my guilt got the better of me.

"I'm sorry I said those things," I said quietly, the crackling fire filling the horrible silence between us. I decided he didn't need to hear the reasons why I'd made those assumptions, figuring he probably knew them anyway.

Jake didn't say anything, though, but continued to rest his chin on his arms, staring into the flames. Clearly he was deep in thought, something I wouldn't have thought possible from the Doberman before now. In fact, I'd thought the exact same thing when I'd heard him crying, too, and yet he'd shown me just how easily he could do that; it would seem there was a bit more to this dog than just bullying smaller furs around. After all, he did seem awfully insistent on cleaning my wounds earlier, which so far as I could tell, were doing just fine now. Had his t-shirt-bandages still wrapped around me, anyway.

After rubbing the bandage around my chest for a moment, I glanced over to Jake and flattened my ears a little; he'd been silent for a long while, and it wasn't quite the same silence he and I had given each other all day. "You okay?" I asked softly.

Jake just sighed through his nose and slowly turned his head away from me, resting it once more on his arms, but still facing away. "I'll be fine," he finally said, still looking past the fire.

I didn't feel particularly like pressing my luck, so I didn't say anything more. And so together, Jake and I sat quietly by the fire, keeping warm by ourselves and just listening to all the noises around us. Up above, the stars were shining brilliantly, something I hadn't really seen before, and when I really looked close, more and more seemed to appear. I leaned back on my paws and just stared upward, neck sore but captivated by their swirling beauty. It made me wonder, of course, exactly which of these thousands and thousands of stars the aliens came from, and why they wanted to attack Earth, especially after two years of just sitting there. Did they come from our galaxy, even? When I stared into the long, flowing Milky Way high above, it was impossible to imagine they'd come from that far, but I suppose by this point, the aliens could do just about anything. I then sighed quietly and looked back into the flames, satisfied by the simplicity of it, but couldn't seem to keep my eyes off the stars, completely gripped by their magnificence. Then I noticed Jake looking at me.

"What?" I asked, looking back down toward Earth, and toward him.

"Nothing," replied the dog. Then he paused. "Have you never seen the stars before?"

"Not really," I told him, somewhat and instinctively cautious. "Why?"

Jake frowned a little; was he just trying to make conversation? "I was just asking. You seemed so awestruck by them."

I shrugged. "Well, I've seen a few stars before, but never like this. This is unbelievable."

"Don't get out much, eh?"

"Guess not." A part of me felt somewhat ashamed by that fact.

"My dad used to point out all the constellations to me when I was a kid, when we'd go camping. Hardly remember them anymore."

"Which one's the Big Dipper?" I asked. That was pretty much the only one I knew.

Jake looked around for a second, then pointed it out, then explained its shape, until I began to see it.

"Oh..."

"And that one's Orion; you can see it easily from those three close stars in a row - Orion's Belt, they call it. And you see those five there, making sort of a zigzag?"

I didn't.

"It's called Cassiopeia."

I just grunted a response, having nothing intelligent to add to that.

Again there was a long, silent pause between us, until Jake looked back at me again. "Look," he started, which worried me, "I'm...I'm sorry about before. About making fun of you."

Now I frowned. "It wasn't very nice." I probably didn't need to point that fact out.

"I know," said the dog.

"So why did you do it?"

Jake sighed. "I don't know..."

"You don't know? How can you not know?"

"My friends started making fun of you the moment they saw you, and I just sorta got caught up in it. It was a shitty thing to do."

"You were going to punch me!" I barked, feeling less sorry for him now.

"I wasn't..!" Jake stopped himself, probably to cool down for a second. "I wasn't going to hit you. I just...wanted to scare you."

"You're an asshole," I said, turning away.

Jake sighed again. "I told you, I'm sorry."

I had no way of knowing just how sincerely the dog meant it, though of course his crying earlier would suggest he'd had lots of time to think about things, and showed he also had a heart. He obviously saw how he'd affected me, and probably did feel bad for putting me down like that. Though I could also have just been being optimistic, I liked to think a tough dog like Jake shedding tears meant a hell of a lot more coming from him than anyone else I knew.

"Do you want to hit me?" the Doberman asked, and I turned, surprised.

"Huh?

"Do you want to hit me?"

My first instinct was to say "hell yeah, I do," but when I thought about it, I wasn't sure I could actually hit the dog. "You serious?" I asked.

Jake nodded. "Yeah, I am. To get me back, I'll let you punch me anywhere you want. But no low-blows."

"Feh," I said. "Forget it then."

Jake laughed slightly, which admittedly made me smile a little. "Anywhere you want..."

"It would make me feel better," I said with a grin. "But...I'm not going to hit you."

"Not even in the face?"

"Well...maybe."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"I break your tooth."

"Or your knuckle."

"Hah," I said, "sounds like a challenge, to me."

Jake stood up, and I quickly followed, and together we backed away from the fire, a bit closer toward the farmhouse. "C'mon," he said, holding out his arms.

I wasn't sure how he thought this would make everything okay, but I had to admit, I had been wanting to hit him since we first met at the bus station, though I sort of imagined it would be more out of anger and the heat of the moment.

I stood ready about three feet away from the dog, prepped and ready to punch him. I felt nervous for some reason, though confident he wasn't going to attack me back - unless I hit him in the balls, which I certainly wasn't going to do. But I could punch him right in the maw, maybe draw some blood from him, or something, and that would satisfy me enough. Would it make up for all the teasing and threats, and ruining my lunch? Maybe... Though I might have had to throw in a second punch, just for good measure.

"Okay," I said, arms bouncing a little, not quite ready to attack. "Here it comes..." But of course, I found myself unable to hit him. I was shaking slightly, nervous and excited, having never really hit somebody before, especially across the face. I'd hit buddies in high school, but not hard and in good fun. In this case, I could really hurt the dog...though he hardly seemed concerned with that.

All right, I told myself. On the count of three. One... Two...

But just before I said three to myself, both Jake and I were startled to hear a familiar, high-pitched screaming noise rumbling in the distance.

"Wha..?" I said, shaking even worse now. "What the fuck?"

Jake didn't say anything, but listened intently. But there was no mistaking that sound: it was an alien fighter.

"They've come to finish us off!" I shouted.

"C'mon," he said, grabbing my arm. "Let's get inside the house."

Not particularly concerned at the moment with the proximity of Jake's paw to my arm, I followed along quickly, into the house and slamming the inside door behind us. Within seconds, a strange light poured through the wood door's window, and of course brightly lit the front lawn of this old, abandoned farm.

"Oh god, oh god," I said, my stomach turning, heart pounding and body shaking. I was more than panicked, having absolutely no idea what the hell to do. I prayed to god they would just continue on, but soon I saw two ships land, and watched closely to see if the aliens would get out, but for now they just stayed there, lights incredibly bright.

"Calm down," said Jake, though I could tell he was shaking, too. "We might need a weapon."

"A what?" I said, though I heard him clearly. "A-A gun!" I said as quietly as I could. "I s-saw a bunch of rifles on the wall... They looked old, but I saw some ammo in a drawer...wh-when I was looking for sewing stuff."

"Perfect," replied Jake, who, crouched low, took off into the living room, very careful not to let any of the light streaming in to touch him, for fear of being caught. I just watched as he got up and pulled a gun off the rack, then crouched down again, retrieved the box of ammo, shakily loading the gun with as much as he could, plastered against the wall. After loading the gun, he grabbed the other rifle and loaded it, then with the box of open ammo dangling from his maw, he carefully and slowly crawled back toward me. "Do you know how to shoot?" he asked.

I shook my head anxiously. "Fuck," I cried, closing my eyes tightly.

"Get a hold of yourself," he said. "I know you're strong," he told me, a paw on my shoulder. "I saw that strength when you saved me, and when we were walking. You just have to hang in there."

"They're going to fucking kill us!" I cried, though still in a whispering tone. "Why the hell do you think they're here?"

Jake growled quietly. "I don't know," he said.

Suddenly, a different noise sounded and together we glanced carefully out the window, and soon, a red light poured from a part of their ships, on the undersides, and a few pairs of silhouetted legs appeared. This was it... Quite possibly, the first time an Earthling had ever set eyes on an alien species.

When the first one stepped out onto the earth, their details were obscured in darkness, though initially, they appeared almost insect-like, with long, gangly legs but a very built upper body, however their arms were equally as gangly as their legs. Their heads had at least one pair of antennae, and quite possibly wings, too, though it was difficult to tell. Though silhouetted still, their carapaces seemed rough and jagged, and despite their thin, tall limbs, appeared very powerful, and most likely, very agile, too. After six aliens appeared in total, three from each ship, those strange objects on their backs became clear: their weapons.

The weapons, which one now held in its claws, or paws, or whatever it was they used, were long and strange, but I never doubted their power for a second. I began to wonder if they shot bullets, or other such projectiles, or if it was energy-based. Their ships seemed to shoot energy-based weapons, though they could have been some sort of strange missiles, too, propelled by a technology we could scarcely understand.

Either way, weapons or no weapons, I didn't want to get anywhere near these aliens. I already knew they were dangerous, and would probably not hesitate for a second to kill me. I was curious, though, what they were doing; were they looking for Jake and I, to finish off the rest of the Bus People? It seemed unlikely. But as I watched, they were clearly moving toward the demolished barn. Curious...

Seconds later, I gasped silently when one of the aliens broke off from the group, alerting the others to our fire. Instantly he grabbed two objects from his back and slammed them together, making a long wand of some kind, probably bladed at either end. He then pointed in two different directions, two of the aliens running off in both directions, while he and the one remaining alien, the one holding the gun, looked around the fire. They didn't seem particularly concerned with the ruined barn anymore, it seemed.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," I said, ducking my head down the instant the alien with the bladed weapon pointed toward the house. "Oh fuck, oh fuck," I continued, heart racing faster than it'd ever gone, and I couldn't begin to control my shaking. My stomach was turning so heavily I thought I was going to throw up, and I was trying desperately to prepare myself for death, praying it would be quick.

"Come on," growled Jake, pulling me along with him. Together we crawled through the kitchen until we reached the cellar door, and very slowly and carefully, hearing noises all around the house now, coming from outside, we made our way down.

"If we're going to stand any chance," Jake explained, once we got to the bottom, "it'll be where they can't surround us."

"So you cornered us instead?" I responded nervously. Nervous didn't begin to describe how I was feeling. When I looked up at the windows, light from their ships pouring through, my heart jumped every time I noticed a shadow pass by, and I knew they were closing in on us.

And I could hear them constantly. They made this sort of fast clicking noise, again seeming insect-like, which was possibly their talking, but they also seemed to make a hell of a noise just walking around, as if to scare their prey shitless before attacking. Random bangs and bumps and loud crashing continued to echo through my ears as they searched around, until my heart nearly stopped at the sound of a door crashing open.

"Oh shit," I said, trying not to repeat myself ceaselessly. "We're dead," I muttered. "We're so fucking dead... Oh man..."

Fortunately, Jake was ignoring me. Instead he aimed the gun toward the stairs as the loud footsteps became louder. I noticed his paws were shaking, too, but he hid it a lot easier than I did, which actually comforted me, at least a little. It meant at least one of us wasn't going to die with shit in his pants.

"Lauren," said Jake quietly, which made me pause. For a second, we just listened to loud stomping, and probably some doors slamming. Footsteps then sounded all above us, like they were now searching upstairs. There was no way they wouldn't come down here...it was just a matter of time. "Did you bring the rifle with you?"

It then of course occurred to me that I hadn't. My lack of a response answered Jake's question, and he just sighed through his nose, irritated I think. Then all was silent between the two of us when the noises came back down the stairs, and my heart stopped again when I heard the cellar doorknob rattling.

I was petrified. Jake held his gun tightly, and though I was shaking beyond control, I held my breath and listened. The rattling continued as if they knew we were down here, but wanted to scare us even more. Then suddenly, the door burst open. It tumbled and tumbled down the stairs, and when it finally stopped, I saw the first of what would be many alien feet.

Jake and I just hid in our corner, myself feeling even more useless without the gun, the dog pointing his rifle. After the alien with the long, bladed weapon kicked the door out of his way at the bottom of the stairs, he stopped, raised his head, and looked directly at us, totally motionless.

And for the third time that evening, my heart stopped. I think it actually stopped this time, as I stared into the glowing, beady eyes of the alien. Though his figure was only barely visible from the light, his eyes stood out remarkably, and I knew they saw us, and they knew we saw them.

Jake slowly stood, myself following along for what it was worth, still aiming his gun. And for what seemed like an eternity, we stood in total silence, the other aliens simply watching this deadly stare-down.

The alien then made a noise and gestured toward Jake and I, and before I could do much else, the next alien in line stepped down and came toward us, reaching for a weapon.

Suddenly, in a blinding light and deafening bang, Jake fired the rifle. The alien suddenly fell like a sack of potatoes, and the others made a terrible screaming noise, raising their claws in what was undoubtedly rage. But Jake cocked his gun again and went to fire at the next approaching alien, but found the gun wouldn't shoot.

"Shit!" he cried, looking at the gun, and in less than a second, he'd been grabbed by the alien and easily thrown across the room into the shelves.

I watched in horror as Jake's body fell hard to the floor, then back up at the towering alien, who just stood above me and hissed terribly at me, as if he really needed to intimidate me any further. I wasn't sure, but I may have just pissed myself, too. Either way, I backed straight into the wall, barely able to grasp exactly what was going on. Fear and adrenaline was pumping through my veins beyond control, and all my senses seemed blocked. I could see nothing but blackness and a horrifying alien reaching toward me, and as soon as he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him, I began to cry and scream as if it would do any good. What else could I do, anyway? The thought of punching Jake was one thing, I could easily see doing that. But I couldn't even begin to imagine attacking one of these monsters in return, knowing it would probably equal instant death.

Suddenly, though, much to my shock and amazement, an incredible movement flashed in my peripheries, and with an intense, frightening growl, the flash materialized into a rifle clubbing the alien square in the face.

"Leave him alone!" snarled a furious Doberman as he smashed the rifle down onto the alien's head again and again, though no sooner had the alien fallen, the others attacked.

What surprised me, though, was Jake had easily blocked the first attack with the rifle, then pushed the bladed weapon away and very expertly swung the gun around and clubbed the next alien in the face, and just as another approached, he changed his stance completely and jammed the shoulder rest into the gut of another, then spun quickly and smashed the end into yet another's head, knocking him over.

Then the one alien attacked, with the double-bladed weapon. He started with a downward slice, which Jake blocked, then twirled his blade around amazingly to strike at Jake's side, but the dog was equally - and far more amazingly - as fast, managing so far to block every attack. However, he wasn't quick enough to both block who appeared to be the leader of this group - with the double blades - as well as yet another, apparently attacking with another sort of blade.

Jake received a nasty slice on his back, which he replied with by jamming the barrel-end into the face of the non-leader alien, then blocking another attack. Though I didn't know a whole lot about fighting, it was clear Jake was on the defensive, and if he hoped to gain any sort of advantage, he'd need to turn this around.

Suddenly, another alien came at me, gun pointed right at my face, and I gasped loudly and cried out, backing away until I tripped over a bucket or something and fell flat on my ass, which hurt a lot. The alien then screamed something at me, until he was clubbed in the back of the head, which, though I was beyond thankful, earned Jake yet another large cut on his back. But fortunately, the alien fell, and though he was hurt, Jake managed to keep on fighting.

Upon closer inspection of the alien, who was twitching in his spot, I noticed he, too, carried a bladed weapon, this one looking like some sort of large, ornate dagger, glistening beautifully with a sort of moonlight-coloured etching. Though when the alien began to stir more actively, something inside me forced my paws toward the blade, which was affixed to his leg somehow, gripping it firmly and pulling it forward. When the alien realized what I'd done, he began to get up, but I cried out and thrust the blade down into his back, and though he screamed horribly, the sound eventually faded with a gurgle and he simply went limp, though continued to twitch.

Myself, I just sat a couple inches from the dead alien in absolute horror, barely able to comprehend exactly what I'd done. "Holy shit," I said to myself, staring at the corpse and unable to truly understand the situation. My heart was pounding heavily at my chest, and for some reason, felt much, much heavier. After all, alien or not, I'd just taken a life. A life... "Fuck..."

However, Jake's loud cry managed to shake me out of my trance. Slowly I stood up, still staring at the lifeless body, then I grabbed onto the dagger. I then pulled it from the body with a terrible squelching noise and glanced at Jake, who was backing away from the aliens with one paw on his chest and the other limp at his side, the rifle nowhere to be seen. Three aliens were left, though, each one holding a weapon to the defenceless dog.

"Jake!" I suddenly cried, tossing the weapon.

Though it seemed unlikely, somehow Jake turned with just enough time to notice the lovely blade flying through the air and grab it perfectly, just as one alien began to attack. With everything in total slow motion, the Doberman, probably as equally as high on adrenaline as I was, made and upward slash with the dagger, deflecting the alien weapon, then twisted his body to make a powerful downward slash. He struck the middle alien clean across the gut just as he'd raised his weapon, and as he stumbled back, Jake very quickly straightened up, halted the dagger and spun it artfully around, then thrust it deep into the alien's stomach. Wasting no time at all, the dog tore the blade from the alien and deflected an attack, time seeming to speed up now.

Even more rapidly and expertly than before, Jake turned his body and blocked another alien strike, holding a paw against the blade, as well as gripping the handle, then kicked the alien in what I'd assumed was its stomach. He then moved forward and spun, avoiding at attack - the alien's weapon slammed into the floor - and countered by punching the alien in the face with his left paw, and while it was distracted, Jake raised the blade above his head and thrust it down hard into the alien's skull, felling it instantly. After Jake retrieved the dagger, he turned and stared down the last remaining alien, the one with the glowing red eyes and duel-bladed weapon.

The two just stared each other down, and I was reminded of the climax of some kung-fu movie, though this was hardly the time for such thoughts. I had to admit, though, despite my intense fear, pissed pants (or so I assumed), racing heart and shaking limbs, I was far more optimistic now than I had been. Though something about this particular alien made me nervous, like if anyone was going to defeat Jake now, it was certainly going to be this one.

I then heard myself cry out as the alien attacked, but Jake managed to take a step back and block the attack, and continued to do so for a few more strikes until he gave one of his own, which was just as expertly avoided, then he was blocked, avoided again, then blocked, blocked, blocked. The strong Doberman then leapt back twice and swung the blade across his chest, deflecting an attack, then again, and again. I could hear his heavy panting, and unlike at the beginning of this fight, each attack produced a louder, more exhausted grunt from him; though I obviously knew nothing about these aliens, it appeared as if this one hadn't even begun to run out of breath.

Suddenly, though, Jake received a startling blow to his face, forcing him to stumble back as he snarled. The alien rose his weapon probably to slice him open, but something inside me once again forced me to move. I bent down and firmly held the first object I touched - I think the bucket I'd tripped over - and with as much force as I and my adrenaline could muster, I threw the metal object clean across the room, smacking the alien in the face, managing only to distract it. But it was enough to let Jake recover from his bloody nose.

The Doberman noticed the stumbling alien, and though he looked as if he hadn't quite yet recovered from the last attack, some force made him regain his balance and stopped himself from falling back. With a bit more focus, Jake growled and burst forward, just as the alien took note of what his enemy was doing, and did an amazing spin with his sort of war cry, the alien dagger flying through the dark, musty air like a moonlight-coloured glowstick. Before the alien could land a blow, Jake had sliced an enormous wound down its chest, causing the alien to cry out and stop its attack and stagger about, then stopped his blade immediately and held it with one paw on its pommel. He paused momentarily before his final strike, as if preserving this moment in time, then finally thrust the blade hilt-deep into the alien's chest, killing it in an instant.

After the alien fell, Jake stood above it panting heavily, then I noticed him start to wane and tremble, then suddenly collapse. With a loud cry, I ran forward, trying desperately to wake him up, though all he did was groan.

Feeling my adrenaline pumping, this time out of fear for his life, I miraculously managed to get a good grip of the tall, muscular dog, and drag him across the six dead alien bodies and toward the stairs, and after managing to get his arm around my shoulders, I not-so-easily dragged him up. I pulled the Doberman through the kitchen and brought him outside, figuring after losing so much blood, he'd probably need to be warmed up by the fire, though it was just coals and ashes by now. After finally placing the large dog down, amazed at how much strength I'd summoned up, I searched around for wood, finding an ample supply at the side of the farmhouse. I quickly rebuilt the fire and within a few minutes, had it going quite well.

I then went back inside, exhausted as hell, and looked around for something to drink. When I found a couple glasses, I tried the sink to pour some water, but nothing came out. It was then I recalled seeing a water pump somewhere outside, like one of those old fashioned ones you had to pump manually, and decided to give it a try. I left through the kitchen door, glancing briefly at the fire and at Jake, then went in search of the pump. I found it, and after ten or so pumps, I got some water. I cleaned the glasses of dust and then filled them up, only then realizing how unsafe the water could potentially be. Though...it was probably just an underground spring. How unsafe could it be?

It was then I realized my heart was still racing like crazy, and I needed to rest for just a moment. I set the glasses down and leaned against the pump, back facing the house, and I peered into the starry sky once more, letting out a huge sigh.

"Holy fuck," I muttered, my muscles burning with fatigue. I closed my eyes and just listened to my heartbeat, which was pounding away at my chest ceaselessly. My paws were still shaking as the adrenaline slowly faded, but I was glad at least for now, it was all over. In the morning, we would certainly have to move.

Finally, after sighing once more, I bent down and grabbed the water, downing one glass at once then quickly filled it up again. I downed it again, then placed the glass down, leaning against the pump with one arm, head resting on my arm. I was breathing heavily, trying try calm myself with long, steady breaths, but my paws were still shaky. I then suddenly found myself crying, but not in the same way you would if you'd just lost someone close to you. It was more a loud, angry weeping, upset beyond words at the insanity I'd just faced, and of course the knowledge I'd just taken a life. I then cried out loudly, like venting my frustration, slamming my fist into the metal pump, pushing myself away and just holding my head for a minute.

"What the fuck just happened..?" I said to myself, still barely able to wrap my head around tonight's events. "God, help me," I found myself saying, despite not having any particular religion. After a little while of just random pacing and steady breathing, I managed to somehow collect myself enough to wipe the tears off my face and refill my glass once more.

When I turned back toward the front of the farmhouse, I realized that at some point between the start of that fight and now, the alien ships had turned off their lights; a very curious thing. Regardless, with the glow of the fire still visible from this side of the house, I made my way back toward Jake.

When I came around the corner, the Doberman had, at some point, removed his top and sat up, and was now sitting with his legs crossed and paws resting in between, and he stared intently at the blaze. I approached him slowly and quietly, though his pointy ears flicked when I got closer, indicating to me he knew I was approaching. And yet he didn't move.

Then all I could think about was the absolute ferocity in Jake's voice when he saved me from their literal clutches. Had he heard me cry out and was filled with infuriated vigour? When he hit that alien, he'd killed it right there, probably smashing its face in, and that was after being thrown into some shelves. "Leave him alone," the dog had cried, so angry... No one had ever defended me like that before, not even my friends. Though I didn't think even my most hated enemies would want to see me in the hands of these aliens , there was something so...surreal about the rage expressed in Jake's words. Pondering that, my heart began to pump heavily again, and my stomach churned, but it was for far different reasons.

When I got close enough to the Doberman, with unsteady paws I put the water down next to him, then got to my knees behind the dog. Slowly and unsurely, I shuffled closer, noticing a huge, bleeding gash in his left shoulder blade, closer toward the center of his back. With both paws, I carefully rested them on Jake's shoulders and drew my nose nearer and nearer his injury, until finally my small, pierced tongue stuck out from my maw and pressed gently against his short dark fur, just below the gash. Then I slowly began to lick the Doberman's wound.

Jake gasped quietly immediately after I began to lick, and turned his head quickly to stare back at me. He seemed as if he wanted so badly to ask me why the hell I was doing this, but he kept his maw shut. Well, it was actually open a little as he stared in disbelief, but not a word or a sound formed. Instead, the canine just watched, breathing heavily.

Again and again I licked, lapping up the blood and whatever else had gotten in there, not sure what to make of the taste. It tasted like blood, without a doubt, and though I didn't particularly like the taste of blood, somehow I didn't mind this. My heart pounded against my chest with every lap of blood, slowly getting used to the bitter, metallic taste. Then after a while, the laceration seeming "done," I pressed my head against Jake's back and moved down about six inches or so, where on the right side of his back was a more horizontal wound, right on his ribs. And like a good little vampire - or something - I licked the wound clean.

I moved my tongue slowly and delicately against his bleeding cuts, and never once did I hear a pained gasp or a twitch from the dog, which would have indicated I'd hurt him. I was as gentle as I could possibly be, my smooth tongue gliding carefully, almost sensually, against his raw flesh. When I finished up the second wound, I slowly raised my head and simply rested it against the non-bloody part of his back, sighing quietly through my nose, paws now travelling down his big, powerful arms.

"Lauren," Jake said quietly, a bit of rasp to his voice. But he didn't continue.

I just raised my head and looked at him, and we shared a heart-jumping glance. There was something in his eyes I'd never seen before in another fur's eyes, more especially ones I've dated. But whatever this mysterious glaze was, I somehow knew it was a good thing, and despite everything that'd happened in the past couple days, I seemed to have forgotten about it.

In the next moment, I found Jake twisting his body in order to face me better, and he lifted his right paw up to my cheek, our eyes still locked. My heart still beating like mad, feeling almost as nervous as when the aliens touched down, slowly our noses closed in, until eventually they bumped into each other. Then in a very surreal moment of tenderness, our noses slid away and our cheeks collided, the dog rubbing his face affectionately against mine, and of course I returned the favour. I think by accident, I let a noise slip out, one of fondness and pleasure, which seemed to make Jake pull away and make a sort of small, amused laugh.

"Shut up..." I said against the crackling fire, blushing intensely. My face was burning like crazy, and not because of the small blaze six feet away.

Jake just smiled and laughed again, now sliding away from me even more, but slowly lying back on the grass, eyes continuously not leaving mine. With his paw around my forearm, he gently pulled, suggesting I go with him, and though I hesitated, I did happen to notice yet another enormous gash on his chest, this one starting just below his right nipple and trailing up at almost a forty-five degree angle, though it was ridged and made a slight curve upward as it reached the centre of his chest. And after noticing the amount of blood that had poured down over his stomach, I was quick to lower my head and clean that mess.

Very tenderly, I gave Jake a glance before closing my eyes, now letting my tongue once more glide softly over his open wound, being as gentle and caring as I possibly could. Jake made a slight noise that I may have mistaken for something else, but to me it sounded like a little noise of pleasure, which thrilled me beyond words. Though my heart-rate had gone down, I still had that nervous feeling in my gut, and my paws were quite possibly still shaking. I could still feel my heart racing, though it had slowed slightly, not nearly as much as I'd have liked. Nevertheless, I continued to clean Jake's wound, until suddenly I found my left leg had somehow swung over Jake's body, and I was now straddling the canine.

This, of course, made me stop and stare down at the dog, who had finally let go of my leg. My paws rested on the ground near his lower ribs, and all I could do was continue to stare down curiously and nervously at him as his strong paws coursed through my black fur, running up my forearms. I didn't particularly trust that grin on his face, though it wasn't nefarious or suggestive; it was a calm smile, showing nothing but a content fondness.

Finally, Jake's right paw made its way up my arm, and tickled mercilessly at my neck - which sent intense shivers up my spine - until the backs of his fingers grazed gently across my cheek, and he just gazed at me fondly. My heart was pounding, and though somewhere in the back of my mind I thought I knew what he wanted me to do, some stupid part of me was petrifying me, preventing me from realizing precisely what that was. And so I sat atop the big, dumb dog, just staring back with an open maw and a stunned, bewildered look on my face.

Jake gave me that small laugh again, and with a paw on my cheek and around my upper arm, he gave me a slight tug, since clearly I wasn't going to do this on my own. But after that bit of encouragement from the Doberman's paws, I slowly lowered myself, my eyes becoming but slivers as our noses came close, heart pounding and mind racing.

Then finally we kissed.

I'd kissed several different guys before, but it always seemed as if it was all a part of some ritual, like they were doing it because they had to. They were never anything special, and with a couple of them, tasted like ashtrays. To me, kissing had always just been part of the mechanical process that was sex, something the guy would do periodically while working away, like saying "um" in the middle of sentences. But this... This kiss was something entirely different.

I'd always imagined my first kiss would be amazing, that it would simply take my breath away and leave me reeling. But instead my first kiss was from a guy who was, at the same time, fucking me, and luckily he'd managed to put down his cigarette for two seconds in order to do it. It wasn't special, and it certainly didn't blow me away. I had prepared myself mentally for my first kiss, telling myself how incredible and special it would be, but instead it was a quick, smoky, and sloppy custom. I could remember trying again the next morning, hoping for something a bit more meaningful, but after he'd eaten his breakfast - making nothing for me, by the way - I was simply kicked out of the house before his girlfriend got home.

Finally, though, like all good things, the kiss came to an end, and unpredictably, I was breathless. I could hardly even remember details of this kiss, but knew it was one of the most extraordinary things I would ever experience. I felt high, almost, and though I wanted another, I felt like one so soon would sully the intensity and absolute pleasure like I'd just received. For now, all I could do was stare down at the Doberman in total silence, awestruck. I didn't even know what to do now, though he seemed perfectly content to leave things just as they were.

Neither of us spoke, and neither of us moved, and yet something was going on. You wouldn't know it just by watching, but somehow I could feel something happening, something I don't think I could have predicted for the life of me, especially not when this dog and I had first met. Something was stirring inside me, and though I couldn't speak for Jake, I think I felt it from him, as well. It was something deep, profound...something I could hardly describe, but whatever it was, it was powerful, and I liked it. It made me nervous, and it made me sweat, but I certainly wouldn't trade this feeling for anything.

Just then, as if through some strange, invisible force, I found my muzzle lowering once more toward Jake's, eyes slivered, and it thrilled me beyond words to see the dog responding equally. His paws once again slid up my arms, coming to rest on my cheeks as once more, our lips connected. He and I shared yet another long, passionate kiss, his paws warm on my cheeks as he seemed to hold me there, and I didn't want this moment to end.

At nearly the same time, both our maws then tilted, parting slightly and I suddenly felt his dog-tongue poke and graze against mine, and I definitely made a sound this time, something like a slight, pleasured moan, but not so lewd. It was a sweet little noise, one that expressed my pleasure perfectly, I thought. Either way, we continued to kiss, his warm lips sliding against mine and making me tingle all over my body, heart still racing like crazy. That is, until his paws slid away from my cheeks.

I felt his paws at first just brush down my chest and sort of cling to my waist, and when our tongues slid together once again, producing a bit of noise from the dog now, too, I discovered their true destination: the belt on my pants. While we kissed, I moaned softly again, then kissed him quickly before going back for something deeper, until I felt his paws playing with the front of my belt, which the dog seemed to struggle with; it was one of those belts with the two rings, and you slide the belt through them to tighten it. Eventually, though, our lips barely parting for a moment, I felt my pants suddenly get looser, and the strange nervousness I'd felt before we kissed increased amazingly.

While Jake's tongue seemed to curl around mine, and after making a loud noise, I inadvertently made yet another small yipping noise when I felt his big, strong paws slide down my hips, under my pants, then turn up toward my bum, which he groped mercilessly. I just gasped slightly, our noses pressed together, and that seemed to be enough to break our kiss for now.

"Ooh," I muttered, blushing violently and wiggling my hips a bit. Jake just giggled a little, possibly blushing, too, then began his attempt at removing my pants, though I think he really just wanted me to do it. I gave the dog a hard, lusty stare, then pulled my nose away from his, pushing myself up and now sitting on his strong belly, staring down at the Doberman. I wasn't smiling, but simply staring through lust-filled eyes, until I stood up and let my paws rest at the top of my pants, continuing to stare. Jake just watched me intently, a partial smile on his face.

Though I couldn't describe what exactly had come over me, I felt extremely excited but not particularly giddy or wound-up. I guess the best word to describe it was horny, though that seemed like too vulgar of a word. Lusty, I suppose would do, but it was a bit more than that. Whichever it was, it compelled me to be as sexually pleasing to the dog as I could manage.

I stared down at the dog with those glazed eyes, standing with a gentle curve to my body that most guys seemed to love - and many girls envied - then slowly I pulled down my pants, underwear included, pushing out my rear so as to hide my crotch for as long as possible. I then pushing my hips forward and let my pants slowly drop, exposing myself right there before the Doberman, blushing heavily but without a single care. After my pants dropped, I kicked them aside and bent back down, twisting my body so my bum slid down along Jake's stomach, grinding somewhat more hungrily than I'd wanted, but the message certainly went through.

Jake was smiling a bit more now, I think impressed with my little show, and for the time being, I straddled him once again, bum resting just above his crotch and paws on his chest. The Doberman ran his paws up my arms and growled quietly, and soon we were back to kissing.

I closed my eyes and got an intoxicating whiff of his powerful canine scent, and enjoyed the taste of his kiss. I groaned quietly as our tongues met once more, blown away at how incredible all of this felt. Never had I had this sort of pleasure before the sex, and even then, I'd wager this was a far greater pleasure than any time I'd ever had with any guy. My heart had never stopped racing, and yet I was filled with such amazing joy, I could have died right there.

I then felt Jake's paws slide down toward my crotch, and somehow I knew what to do. I promptly lifted my body so I was on my knees, though I did push my bum upward somewhat, back curved, to make it that much more sensual, so he could access his own belt, which I heard unlatching over the small, crackling fire.

After one quick kiss, then another - a bit longer - Jake moved his body in such a way that he was able to kick his pants off, and the moment he did, I somehow sensed something amazingly warm just below my bum, and I had to admit, I was a little afraid to feel it.

Jake kissed me again - I never grew tired of his soft, sweet lips - with one paw on my right cheek, while the other held onto my left leg. We both made small groaning and moaning noises as our tongues mashed, and I could feel his body and hips moving below me, I think searching for that one perfect position.

After I savoured that last kiss, I pulled away a bit and reached a paw back, moving my own hips around and at long last, my pawpads came to touch his large, rock-hard dog-meat, fully erect and, I had to admit, kind of intimidating. It was warm ,though - very warm - and smooth to the touch, with almost a lubricated feel to it. I gripped the shaft firmly, which produced a satisfied "Mmm..." from Jake, then shifted it about until I felt its incredible heat against the bottom of my tail, and within moments, I felt that shaft press softly against my tight little tailhole - which hadn't seen much action lately, I should point out.

"Ah," said Jake quietly. "That's what I've been looking for."

I just blushed like crazy, staring back timidly. My paws rested once more against Jake's chest, but before he started anything, he moved his paws in toward mine.

The dog then pushed his fingertips into mine, and though my head felt somewhat cloudy, I figured out what he was going for: the Doberman wanted to hold my paws. This, of course, made my poor heart skip a beat, and I was back to staring at him almost like I had when I began to lick his wounds, which were probably filthy again by this point. Naked, Jake and I stared into each other's eyes, somehow knowing we were both expressing the exact same level of emotion and adoration. I think we both wore the same stupid little smiles on our faces, too.

Jake then gripped tightly at my paws, and with a subtle nod, he pushed his hips upward.

Very quickly, I felt my tailhole spread open, which forced my maw open and my eyes closed, and after just a second, I let out a sharp cry, then a long, hard moan. As his hips pushed toward my bum - and I couldn't help but assist by pushing my rear downward - I gripped onto Jake's paws tighter while producing even louder moans, his thick dog-meat only becoming thicker. Soon, though, when the width and the pain seemed to apex, the canine gave one final little push and let out a very satisfied groan, now pulling me down into a kiss.

Of course I accepted Jake's kiss happily, but coupled with the intense tightness now filling my rear-end, I was far more elated. I moaned into his maw, not intentionally, as our tongues slid together, but I was delighted to hear the same amount of noise from Jake, so I didn't have to feel as silly. Not that I felt particularly silly to begin with.

Jake then suddenly began to pull his cock outward, which made me gasp, then moan, and naturally I let my hips move in synch with his motions, which in my opinion, was in a very sexual manner.

"Mm," Jake started throatily, "you ready for this..?"

I nodded ecstatically. "Y-Yeah," I cried, the sensation sliding through my tailhole almost too much to bear; my tailhole was stretched to its maximum before really hurting, something I hadn't ever felt before. Sex with this dog just felt so...amazing - like nothing I'd experienced before.

When I finally felt like Jake was about to pull his dog-meat all the way out, I let out a long, satisfied sigh, but when he gripped tighter at my paws, I realized seconds before he started, what was to come.

Quickly, Jake pushed back in, myself grinding against him with the movements of his body, and as his shaft once more slid into my body, I twisted my head and let out a long moan, gripping and un-gripping Jake's paws. Then in the next moment, he'd pulled out again, and with a heavy push of his hips, slowly he and I worked into an awkward rhythm, that with every pump, twist and moan, became smoother and more exciting.

Already my own cock had poked out of my sheath, but now it was fully erect and, when I took half a second to open my eyes enough to look, squirting precum copiously. I could even feel it running down the underside of my length, the stream apparently endless. And so was the pleasure coursing through my body. Jake bucked harder and faster, grunting and groaning probably a bit less than I was, but still made me happy to hear it. And of course my hips were pushing back and grinding against his shaft, myself producing the majority of the noise.

Most guys I'd ever been with didn't seem particularly interested in pleasuring me, but were far more interested in getting themselves off, and simply used my body as a tool for that exact goal. None of them ever cared about me, not for a second, but this Doberman...this dog who I swore I hated with every fibre of my being...he wasn't a thing like those guys. They would never even look at me, especially during sex, much less hold my paws. They would, in essence, finish up and tell me to get lost, and though Jake and I had just begun, I had a feeling he had no intention of doing so, though I suppose it was a lot to ask for. Either way, not only was this dog an amazing ride, it was clear he at least cared about my pleasure, as much as he did his own - though I was yet to cum, of course.

"Oooh, Jake!" I suddenly cried, surprised at even myself. Our eyes met, and though it was the same glazed, sexual look we'd been giving each other, it certainly seemed as if he didn't mind my calling out his name. It was totally unintentional, but at the same time, it felt like the right response. It went well, anyway, with the rest of my loud moaning, completely uninhibited in the dark outdoors, and I didn't care who heard me, if there was even anyone around - there probably wasn't.

Jake then let out a sharp moan and closed his eyes tightly, and though he'd been panting, his breaths seemed a bit different, like he was gearing up for something. Perhaps...he was going to knot me?

That thought thrilled me immensely. I'd been with a few canines before, but not one of them came close to knotting me, and not because I couldn't take it - though in all fairness, wouldn't know whether or not I could - but because I think there was some sort of bond, I guess, associated with it that they - and every other guy I'd been with - wanted badly to avoid. I suppose when you're just looking for a quick one-off, you don't particularly want to do anything fancy.

Regardless, a slight, subtle something changed in the way Jake was fucking me, and though the intense pleasure pumping hard and consistently through my body was still just as incredible as it was, I felt it.

"Oh God," cried out Jake, opening his eyes. Our gazes met, and of course it made my heart race, even more so than it already was. "L-Lauren," he said with an odd smile on his face. The dog was making me nervous. "A-Ah!"

I moaned a response, just as I pushed my hips back down again, feeling the shaft bury just slightly deeper inside me, which made me shiver. I, too, was breathing heavily, eyes slowly flickering between closed and barely open, and somehow I sensed whatever Jake was planning, it was happening soon.

The Doberman pushed again, then again, except on the third time, it seemed like an even harder push, and something in his eyes told me to grind my hips equally as hard. And I did so obediently, suddenly feeling a painful stretch in my rear, which made me yelp. And yet Jake's soft moaning, matching mine now, managed to soothe me, as well as his strong, yet gentle, paws subtly moving around, despite still being linked to mine.

"C'mon," huffed the dog, moaning immediately after as he pushed again, "Let's d-do this..! Ah!"

"Nngh," I think I said in return, blushing so intensely when the Doberman talked to me. I wasn't all for having conversations during sex, but the guys I'd been with, they didn't want me to say a word, and they certainly didn't say much themselves. Even the ones who were nicer, it'd always been clear what they wanted from me, and excepted only that. I then gave Jake a quick nod, answering him that way instead.

In the next moment, I felt Jake push even harder into me than he had been, and it became immediately clear there was a bit more shaft he was trying to get inside my body, and it certainly wasn't going to be easy. I wasn't even sure if I could handle a knot, but I think Jake was intent on getting it in there. Each push we both gave seemed to stretch out my tailhole just a little bit further, hurting me just that much more. I yelped and cried out with every hard thrust, tears starting to form in my eyes.

"Ahh!" cried Jake, obviously finding a little more pleasure in this frightening process than I did. As tears began to roll down my cheeks, myself still trying hard to get that knot in there, Jake quickly rasped, "Stay with me, baby," and for some reason, that made my heart jump.

He was talking to me as if we were already a couple, and yet no more than a couple hours ago, I so badly hated this dog. I suppose all of this could've been a trick just to get me in bed, and vulnerable. But...no, at this point, that seemed incredibly unlikely. Unfortunately, it had become my nature to assume the worst in people, and though Jake had especially given me no reason to trust him...somehow I did.

But again I nodded, with a moan, and continued trying, working through the pain as best I could - the tears, of course, were unintentional, brought by a physical pain, rather than some emotional response. Though...people do sometimes cry when they're happy, don't they? Either way, I was convinced it was from my sore, undoubtedly beaming red tailhole.

Jake then gripped my paws very tightly, and I think that was my cue to do the same, because something in his eyes told me this was going to be it - I think he'd made at least some progress, but nothing short of real effort was going to get his knot through my little tailhole, and I was as ready as I could possibly be.

Holding onto the Doberman's paws firmly, Jake finally pushed up into me, and immediately I began to cry out in pain. That, of course, didn't stop me from pushing my hips back into his hot, large shaft, trying my best to get through it. I cried out, and cried out some more, and I was sure if someone had been listening, they would swear I was being tortured. But we both worked hard, and though it was no pain for Jake, I could tell my cries were having some effect on him - I think so, anyway.

But through all the pain and the moaning and crying and screaming, I heard and most definitely felt a sudden pop, and in that instant, I was filled with such profound joy.

Just as Jake's knot popped into my rear, at the same time both he and I let out a loud, long howl, Jake's far more intense than mine, and he seemed to buck and shiver and grind and moan sharply for a long while before finally relaxing, a serene haze having come over him. He was smiling wide when he looked up to me, still panting, and gave a short laugh. A second later, I smelled a very, very familiar musk coming up from my rear - not a familiar musk naturally produced by my body, by the way - and suddenly that deep warmth lying inside my body became that much more incredible.

"Ah, fuck," said the dog, unlinking his paws with mine and just rubbing up my legs.

I was sitting on his full shaft now, which seemed buried deep, and there was no end to my blushing. This dog, this Doberman I hated so much, had knotted with me, burying his seed within my body as if to mark me as his. And the crazy thing was, I was glad for it. Sitting atop this dog, I was far beyond happy.

"We're gonna be stuck like this for a while," remarked the canine, paws moving further up my legs. "Shit... Never been knotted before, hm?"

I shook my head, smiling quietly.

"You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I answered softly, smiling a bit more now. I felt so incredibly warm. I then suddenly gasped when I felt the Doberman's left paw against my shaft. Now this was unexpected... I just moaned softly as his paw stroked me slowly, unsure if there was anything I could do.

"Y'know," Jake said, "despite your taste in clothes...you are one very sexy skunk."

I just held a paw to my chest and I think if I was able to blush more, I definitely would have. This dog had more than taken my breath away by this point.

"And since I have you here..." Jake then began to stroke my shaft more quickly, and if I didn't know any better, I'd have sworn he wanted to make me cum. It wasn't going to be difficult, though, since I was incredibly sensitive now, plus turned on far more than I'd ever been, much less with another guy.

I moaned quietly, especially compared to before, and stretched my abs, arching my back a lot to show off my body, paws gripping at my footpaws. A paw then left and rubbed up and down my black-furred chest, this less obvious pleasure just adding to my warmth. Jake's pawpads were so smooth against my cock, and moved with such purpose.

It was a somewhat strange sensation to feel someone else's paw on my shaft. It felt like I was masturbating, except both my paws were totally free, plus I was able to feel the intense tingling pleasure that generally got covered up by my own paw.

"Ooh, Jake," I moaned as he stroked me quickly, "I'm not gonna...last..." Then I suddenly cried out, bucking uncontrollably as my body was struck by one of the most incredible orgasms I'd ever felt. My shaft filled immediately with that violent rapture, which coursed all the way through my body, in my tailhole, and reaching up into my gut. My whole body shook and tingled with pleasure, but when I finally came, spraying my skunk-seed all the way up near - or possibly on - Jake's face, it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. It may have had something to do with that incredibly hard knot of flesh grinding mercilessly into my prostate as I reached climax, but regardless, it had left me panting - the orgasm felt as if it'd lasted a full minute, though it probably wasn't quite that long.

Either way, Jake and I were surrounded by the familiar smell of pleasured males, and the heat coming from our bodies could have re-ignited our pathetic little fire, if that were physically possible.

After I climaxed, and after just panting for a moment, Jake reached a paw up toward my cheek and pulled me down to kiss me, and I gladly accepted. It was just as sweet and sensitive as our first kiss, except this one included a great big canine cock up my rear, complete with knot.

And after our short, yet sweet, kiss, our soft lips parted and we simply nuzzled, cheeks rubbing together lovingly while Jake rubbed my back. With my chest pressed against his, I could feel his heart beating, and I was certain he could feel mine, too. He was still inside me, showing no signs yet of exiting, and frankly I could have stayed like this forever.

But I felt so very tired, and though I couldn't rightfully speak for Jake, I'd be surprised if he wasn't, too. After all, he'd been walking all day, then fought off six aliens, then had sex with me... All I did was walk all day, cower from six aliens, and have sex with him...

Before I knew it, though, I heard Jake moan very gently, then started squirming. In moments, I suddenly felt his semi-soft shaft pop out of my rear, his warm cum dripping down toward my balls - I had to clench my tailhole to make it stop. When I looked down at Jake, he was smiling tenderly in the soft afterglow of incredible sex, and I simply smiled back. Again his paw raised up, this time gripping around my shoulder and the dog promptly pulled me down on top of him, where I slid to his left side and rested one paw up on his muscular shoulder. With my head resting on his other shoulder, both his arms around me, I closed my eyes and slowly drifted to sleep.

I then suddenly woke up in a freezing fright, having all night had dreams of those aliens coming after me, and of course blood and death all around me - including the alien I'd killed - and my paws were stained with blood. When I woke, jolting suddenly like in those little dreams when you think you're falling, I felt my paws shaking, and I was covered in sweat. Jake was still nearby, though it seemed he and I had parted somewhat while we slept, myself probably extremely restless. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if we both had restless sleeps. Either way, I closed my eyes again and tried to relax, until I felt myself calm down a bit, then glanced again at the canine. He looked fast asleep, lying on his back with one arm above his head, the other resting on his belly.

In the morning, misty light - it had become very foggy at some point - I looked somewhat devilishly at Jake's naked body, seeing far greater muscle definition than I had in the dark, and it was as impressive as I imagined it would be.

He was a tall Doberman, and though he wasn't exactly an enormous bodybuilder, he still had very fine musculature, most noticeably his legs, arms and chest. When he was all relaxed it was a bit less obvious, but at various points in our journey - especially since Jake was wearing his hoodie unzipped - I noticed a few times his great definition. He had way bigger muscles than me, anyway, though it didn't really take much. While he continued to sleep and I continued to check him out, somehow my paw had found its way to my crotch, and despite our activities from no more than six hours ago, there was a clear hardness to my sheath.

Unfortunately, though, just as my modest - though still a bit above average, I must admit - shaft poked an inch or so out, Jake started to stir. I, of course, started to panic, not wanting him to see what I'd been up to, or attempted to be up to, while he'd slept. When his eyes finally opened, however groggily, he looked around, then up at me, then down at me, then back up once more.

I started to blush.

"That's a bit creepy," remarked the dog, to which I just frowned. "But I'm flattered." He then rolled onto his right side, pointing away from me, and I checked out his rear.

Suddenly, though, I heard and felt my stomach start to rumble, and I simply rubbed my poor stomach as if to ease its pain. I groaned quietly, then looked back at the house. The house where six dead aliens lay, one of which I'd killed... A shiver suddenly ran up my spine, more especially because in my peripheries, I noticed the two alien ships, watching me. I was curious, though, to check them out...

I quickly got up and gave my body a good stretch, twisting my midsection around to stretch my spine a little, then looked carefully at the ships. They showed no signs of life, and the doors in which the aliens had emerged were now gone, now a solid part of the hull. But still... I began to walk cautiously toward the ships, past my pants, rather enjoying the gentle breeze through my fur, and of course it felt totally liberating to be able to walk around outside, completely nude with no one to see me. It wasn't that I was ashamed of my naked body - far from it - but I think it would be fair to say most people would be horrified at a nude anyone walking around in public.

Anyway, the ships were horseshoe crab-shaped, with a vaguely smooth, dark, lustrous hull, yet the underside looked a lot like the bottoms of those enormous round ships that until recently, had been inactive for nearly two years. I couldn't see anything that looked like glass, or windows or anything, for which to see out of, nor did I see anything that looked visibly like a weapon. There were plenty of pipes and components and so forth sticking out of the bottom, and I couldn't see where the hatch would open from to get inside, which I have to admit, I badly wanted to do. Didn't notice any switches or the like, either, to open said hatches. For now, I simply paced around the ships cautiously, venturing finally to touching one - half expecting some sort of shock or jolt - but found the hull to be quite cold. Surprisingly cold, actually.

When I turned around, I suddenly remembered the aliens had started immediately for the ruined barn, as if they wanted to check out some of the damage they'd caused. And yet...not that I was any sort of expert on any sort of animal behaviour, much less alien, but it seemed as if the aliens had been searching around for something, that is until one of them had discovered our little campfire. As I slowly paced toward the ruined barn, I began to wonder what they could have been searching for, and it didn't take long for me to consider maybe, just maybe, they were searching for one of their own crashed ships.

Though I was barely conscious at the time, I think I did notice, after waking up from the bus crash, some alien ships - at least one - crashing down into the planet, gunned down, no doubt, by our own forces. Of course the skies were totally clear now, which was easier to notice in the rising sun. It was still a bit chilly out, though, which I didn't begin to realize until I started toward the barn. I just stopped about twenty feet away from it, glancing past the destroyed wooden frame but I think subconsciously, not really wanting to find anything. For some strange reason, I was far more content thinking they'd simply blown it up - what if the alien was still alive? I doubt I'd be able to kill another, not even if it was lying on the ground in front of me, practically helpless...

"Hey," I suddenly heard, startling me out of my thoughts. I turned quickly to face Jake. "Up early, hm?"

I nodded, just as the big canine stepped close, holding his paws out and somehow I knew to turn around, and from behind the dog held onto me, pulling me back into his chest. He just held me with his paws loosely linked around my chest, chin gently brushing against the white fur on my head.

"I think there might be an alien ship in there," I said, pointing a little, though my arms weren't particularly mobile with the dog wrapped around me. That was fine; I just leaned back a little, holding both my small paws to Jake's forearms.

"Why do you say that?"

I shrugged. "Well when the aliens landed, they looked like they were looking for something, over toward the barn. Could be one of their ships were shot down. It would explain why they didn't bother destroying the farmhouse, anyway, assuming they just destroyed the barn."

"Hm," commented Jake. I had no idea what he was thinking, but he didn't seem particularly concerned. Didn't seem particularly concerned over the two ships just sitting on the grass, either, nor the pile of six dead aliens in the cellar of the house, which I only just began to think about.

"Doesn't this attack concern you?" I asked, looking up as if I'd actually be able to see his eyes.

"Of course it does."

I frowned. "Well you don't seem like it does."

Jake sighed quietly. "I know I seem like a big dumb jock to you, but I'm perfectly aware of what's going on around me, well enough, anyway, so that I don't let my emotions get the better of me." Finally Jake let go, and I felt that much colder now.

I turned to face the Doberman, who seemed a lot more handsome now... I must have been giving him a look of some kind, because after a moment, the dog shrugged and continued.

"I don't mean to suggest you can't handle yourself... Though admittedly, I think if it was just you, you'd have been killed in an instant."

I frowned, but he was probably right.

"I guess I just learned how to control myself. You know, self-awareness and staying emotionally balanced... I never really thought about it before, truthfully."

"That's probably why you come off as such a cold bastard," I commented. It produced a smile from Jake, anyway.

"You're all right, though," the Doberman said cryptically, patting my shoulder. He then stepped closer and after giving me a quick hug, gently kissed the side of my head and parted, heading back toward camp.

"So tell me," I said, following along. "When you were learning how to keep your emotions in check...is that when you learned how to fight? I mean... Shit, Jake, you were incredible! Have you...you know...killed before?" I said that last bit very quietly, and very nervously.

Jake stopped. "I'm a secret agent," he said, and I just stood amazed. "Black Ops sort of thing, except even lesser known than that. Myself, my parents were killed in a plane crash when I was just a pup, so I was taken in by a friend of my father's who worked for the government. And that was when I started my training. For years I fought relentlessly, until I was old enough to begin working. I've killed dozens of people in my life..."

And still I stood in awe of this Doberman, hardly able to believe it. When I finally managed to un-slack my jaw, I said, "Are you serious?"

Jake turned around with a big grin on his face, and I knew the answer instantly. "Nah," he laughed, bending down to pick up his pants."Just fuckin' with you."

I frowned and stepped closer, suddenly smacking the pants from his paws. "I hate you."

"I hate you, too, sweetheart."

I started to blush, but I was still annoyed. I would have believed him, too.

"So where did you learn to fight?"

The Doberman sighed as he picked his pants up again, then quickly slipped into them; he wore dark jeans, somewhat baggy, and apparently a pair of boxers were concealed inside. After dusting himself off, Jake looked up at me and gestured with a paw that I come closer, and when I did he simply held one arm around me, holding me close. Feeling a bit more adventurous than before, I rose a paw up to touch against his chest, and I was sure if I was a cat, I'd have probably started purring.

"Long story short," Jake began, "my mother took me to karate classes when I was a pup."

"I've never seen karate like that," I commented, though I was hardly an expert on the topic.

Jake just laughed through his nose, then gave me a bit of a squeeze before letting go. He and I then headed into the house, hopefully to find a bit more food. "When I was around five," said Jake, who began rifling through the cupboard, "I had a lot of aggression. Parents didn't really know why, and weren't sure what to do, so when their friend apparently suggested it, they jumped all over sending me to learn karate. You know, to let out my aggression... Anyway, I just stuck with it all my life, eventually picking up and learning other martial arts along the way, learning it on my own."

"Oh," I said, far less impressed with that story than his secret agent one. "So, what, you must be a black belt or something?"

Jake nodded, pulling out some more canned something - fruit, perhaps. "Sixth Dan, Black Belt," he said, though I had no idea what that meant. I presumed it was a rank of some kind. "Especially after high school, I trained almost every day."

I grabbed onto what appeared to be a can of peaches, then quickly opened it - I ate the peaches with my fingers, too hungry to bother looking for a rusty old spoon or fork. "Guess that's why you weren't scared when the aliens started coming for us," I said, mawful of peach.

Jake shrugged, fiddling with whatever he'd chosen. "I was scared, but like I said, I didn't let it get the better of me." He then peeled back the lid and quickly ate what ended up being pears, unusually silent.

I simply ignored the strange silence by finishing off my food, then dumped the empty can in the sink, assuming no one was going to be back here for a long while. "You okay?" I finally asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Jake had finished off the last pear half with his fingers when he finally answered. "Yeah," he nodded, putting the can beside mine. "Let's get going, though, 'kay? Before more aliens show up looking for their friends."

I shuttered to think about it, and instantly felt a nervous churning in my gut, for just a second. "Fuck, I hope not," I said. "What if they can track us? In those ships, it can't possibly be that hard."

Jake began outside. "Then we'll fight them," he said determinedly, bending down to pick up my pants. When I followed him outside, grabbing my laptop bag and favourite top from the countertop, he immediately threw them at me.

"Hey!" I cried, nearly dropping my things. A moment later, I set them down on the porch and lifted up my shirt, examining the repaired tear for a second before putting it on. Fit nicely, just as well as before, and though for a little bit I thought I felt where the repair was, I think it was more or less fine. Then I noticed Jake just staring at me as I twisted around, looking at the tear from the outside, while the top was on me, and generally trying to feel just how different it was.

"You know," said the dog, turning away a bit, "you don't look too bad in that shirt..."

I blushed for a second time this morning, and the sun hadn't even completely risen yet. "I thought you hated my clothes," I said with a bit of a shy smile.

Jake just smiled back an approached me, resting his paws on my naked hips and pushing me against the wall, while my paws wrapped around his back. He growled quietly and pressed his lips firmly against mine, kissing me passionately on the abandoned front porch. I just shivered slightly as our tongues slid together, pulling myself in closer, paws rubbing through the short black fur on his muscular back. My heart pounded once again while we kissed, and the blush practically exploded onto my face. Finally, though, his soft lips parted from mine and I fought for half a second to catch my breath.

"What was that for?" I asked bashfully, still stuck between the dog and the house, with no intention of moving.

"It was my way of telling you that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong..."

This time I snorted. "You think?"

"Just get your pants on," said the dog, happily pulling away.

Though for a short while I just watched the topless canine walk down the steps and toward his hoodie, checking out his musculature once more, finally I put on my pants, including my girly underwear, which I very much enjoyed. "Okay," I said. "You ready?" I swung my laptop over my shoulder then put it on completely, the bag pulling my top down over my shoulders a tiny bit more.

Jake quickly threw on his sweater, dusted it off, then smiled briefly at me. "Yeah..." then looked around. After spreading the ashes and burnt wood a bit with his footpaw, he gave me a confirming nod. "Let's go."

And once more, we were off. We left the farmhouse and the property - climbing dangerously over a rickety wire fence - and the alien space ships behind, and I could only pray we wouldn't come across anymore for the rest of our journey.

Together we passed through a series of different crop fields, and Jake explained which plant was which, since I apparently thought it was all just wheat and cornfields. And though they mostly were, some of it was just simply grass, which would later be cut and baled by big machines. In fact, after a short while, we came across an enormous field, forests in the background, littered with dozens upon dozens of these round, enormous bales of hay, though I was told it apparently wasn't actually hay.

Every so often, we would hear what sounded like approaching jets or planes, or something, and in a panic, we would hide behind a hay bale, or just duck down if none was nearby, but so far we hadn't been seen. And so far, they weren't any alien ships, either, which always came as a relief. I couldn't help but wonder, though, what was happening throughout the rest of the world. On the bus, they'd attacked so swiftly and with zero warning - though there could have been more warning, perhaps, if I'd been at home, instead - so I had to wonder how the rest of the world was suffering, too. After all, their giant motherships were in twelve different locations, one or more to every continent, including Antarctica! That latter was most puzzling, but either way, they ensured global coverage, so half our planet could be buried by now. That though, I had to admit, made my stomach turn (again), though fortunately not enough to make me lose my breakfast.

I then began to wonder how much destruction they'd wrought only after a few days of their initial attack. Perhaps some sort of peace could even have been reached by now, or maybe they came for minerals or something, and were done. But then why bother attacking first? Perhaps they didn't attack first... Maybe someone, somewhere, got a bit too excited and paranoid and fired a missile? My bet was on someone in the U.S. who pulled the trigger first, but of course I really had no idea. I had nothing but history to go on for that opinion, but I thought it was probably pretty accurate. At this point, I had no way of knowing what really went down, or what made the aliens attack. I could open my laptop to find out, except I probably wouldn't get any sort of signal out here.

Beyond the fact it was probably one of my most valuable possessions - one of the few objects I owned that cost me more than a hundred bucks - I wasn't really sure why I bothered taking it with me. You can get those "stick things," as I was used to calling them, which supposedly gave you a signal anywhere you can get a cell phone signal, but I never bothered since I figured I'd never really need it, though of course now it would be incredibly useful. That was assuming, of course, cell phone signals reached this far out in the middle of nowhere. But for being probably a day or so out of the city, by walking, we couldn't be that far from a signal. Either way, it was totally moot since once again, I didn't have a "stick thing."

Finally, after about five or so hours of straight walking, now approaching a forested area, Jake and I stopped to rest, in the shade of a great big rock. We sat close together.

"So, I gotta ask," started Jake, "what were you doing on that bus, anyway? What's up north?"

I turned my head. "Why? What were you doing?"

Jake shrugged. "I asked first."

I frowned, but he had a point. I wasn't sure I wanted to reveal my original plans, given how we'd spent the previous night. In fact, I hadn't really considered that at all until this point. What would happen when we reached the city? Would we part ways, never to see each other again? That thought bothered me deeply, though I didn't quite want to admit that to myself. I suppose I hadn't expected anything else, and certainly hadn't given myself a chance to really consider it this morning. After all, how on earth could I have predicted this big, strong, incredibly brave dog to defend me so fearlessly? It was the last thing I'd expected, in fact, besides sleeping together...and of course we'd done that, too. My feelings for Jake...well, they came completely out of nowhere, and by all rights should never have happened. And yet here I was, sitting peacefully with him, nearly holding paws. But with him staring curiously at me, I realized I still hadn't answered his question.

"Uh," I started with saying. "Well...I was going to see a friend," I finally admitted. Since he and I weren't officially boyfriends, I left that part off "friend."

"That's a long trip just to see a friend," commented Jake. He made me blush again, though not quite for the same reasons as he had. "Who is he?"

I hesitated. "Daniel is his name," I said, not expecting Jake to know him. "We talk online a lot. Well, entirely online, until we meet anyway."

"He must be pretty special."

I nodded. "Yeah," I said, feeling an strange pounding in my chest. I think it may have been guilt. My ears were drawn back, and I found it difficult to look up at Jake.

"He your boyfriend?" the Doberman then asked, which made my heart jump. I was blushing even more, and felt a particular distance in the dog's tone when he asked.

"Uh," I said, "well...n-not really no. I mean, kinda, but... I'm not sure. Sort of... I dunno." I was sure to win a Perfect English Award when I reached the city.

"I see," said Jake, sounding as if he was concealing a particular sadness, or something, in his voice. "How can you not know?"

"Well...you know... We weren't really officially dating or anything. But, I mean, we like each other, it's just...well, the distance, you know? We never really reached a conclusion, on our actual status. I think we're supposed to sorta come to a conclusion, or at least get closer to one, after we meet."

For a long, excruciating while, Jake didn't say anything, though I think it was only just a second or two. I don't think he'd been looking at me for a while, either, which was certainly much more than just a second. More like several minutes, he couldn't seem to look at me. What was he thinking?

"How come you were going up north?" I decided to ask, voice small and quiet.

Jake stayed silent for a second longer. "My sister lives up there," he said, turning his head but still not facing me. "She's moving into another place since her boyfriend left her, and I was just going to help her move. Asked Colin to come with me, and though it cost me a case of beer, he agreed to it." The dog then gently shook his head and sighed. "Christ, I didn't even need him to come... I just wanted his company, and now...fuck."

"Was he special to you, too?"

"Of course he was, but not in the way you're thinking. We were really close friends. We'd done things together that could easily be construed as gay, but, well, he never knew about that part of my life. We were best friends, without a doubt, and I could tell him anything. But that wasn't one of them, and I always felt bad for keeping it from him, but, shit... I don't think he'd even have wanted to know. His prejudice toward homos always sorta bothered me, but, I mean...we'd been friends since we were puppies. That was just something I easily learned to ignore, and it never really came up that much." Jake then glanced over at me, not moving his head, then back away again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble."

"It's okay," I said, patting his arm. "I don't mind. It helps to get that shit off your chest sometimes."

"If I hadn't been so insistent...ugh, god."

I put my arms around Jake's left, leaning against him. "It isn't your fault," I said quietly. "No one on that bus knew what was going to happen, and had no way of knowing that ship was going crash into us. I mean...it's pretty shitty luck that it did, but there's no way you can blame yourself, Jake."

Jake sighed heavily. "I know it isn't," he said. "But...it fucking sucks." He then clenched his paws into fists, and I really hoped that aggression he'd talked about from his childhood wasn't resurfacing.

I wasn't sure what else to say, because surely anything I could think of, Jake had already done. All I could do was keep close and try to comfort him as best as possible. For some reason my heart was racing, like back when I approached the dog to lick his open wounds, which seemed more or less healed by now - probably further on the less side, but he'd certainly survive.

"So," I started, breaking the silence - there were still a few questions I had for the dog, which I didn't get a chance to ask earlier. Hopefully this would divert from some of the awkwardness. "How did you know so much about those guns? Back at the house, I mean."

"My father taught me," he said after a short pause. "He and I were really close, probably about as close as Colin and I were. It was on a totally different level, mind you, but still... Anyway, like I said, he was an outdoorsy canine, and he showed me all sorts of interesting things, one of which included learning to shoot. It was a 'lost art,' he'd tell me. I didn't really get it, but I always clung to his every word, no matter what it was. He, uh...doesn't know I'm gay, either. Unlike Colin, I'm not sure how he'd react to it."

"Why don't you tell him?"

Jake sighed again. Despite the fact I was holding loosely onto his arm, he still didn't look at me. "Well...he's in prison."

For some reason, I found that incredibly alarming. "Why..?" I asked modestly, half afraid to hear the answer.

"You really want to know?"

I suppose I did, and so I nodded quietly.

"Well...my mother died almost twelve years ago, which hit both me and my dad very hard. We both had problems dealing with her death, but at least I had my martial arts. Dad, he didn't have anything... He used all his years of tracking and hunting skills to track down the people who were responsible for my mom's death, almost to the point of obsession. After a couple years, I was taken away from him, since apparently someone called child services and complained he wasn't taking good care of me, despite the fact I was fifteen years old. Anyway, that was sort of the breaking point for dad. I had to learn it from the news that he'd been captured after intentionally burning down a building with five people trapped inside, who'd apparently all been tied up."

"Holy shit," I said quietly to myself. I got the feeling this wasn't another story, like his secret agent one. "That's..." I really had no idea what to add to that.

"As far as the law was concerned, those men were totally innocent. My father was charged with five counts of first-degree murder, as well as arson and breaking-and-entering, plus I wouldn't be surprised if they slapped a dozen other charges on him. Christ..."

Jake sounded more angry than upset. And what could I do? Cling to his arm and hope he didn't take his anger out on me.

"Sorry you asked?" said the dog.

"No," I replied. "I'm glad you told me."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Well I dunno... Means you trust me, doesn't it?"

Jake paused before responding. "You are the only one on this planet who knows I'm gay," he said, glancing over at me.

I glanced back at him, giving a sort of half smile.

"You're a special guy," said the dog, which for some reason surprised me. I think he enjoyed making me blush. "I think Daniel will be very happy to meet you."

And there was that sudden pang of guilt again, though it didn't make a whole lot of sense. Nothing said Jake and I were attached, since in most cases, when two guys sleep together, that certainly doesn't mean they're in a relationship - I learned that one the hard way. Several times. Though I suppose since Jake's homosexuality was so secret to even his closest friend, perhaps he hadn't ever been in a gay relationship before. Maybe he hadn't even been with a guy before, though he sure as hell seemed like he knew what he was doing last night. But if that was the case...I suppose he, too, was learning the hard way, sex doesn't always equal a relationship. I began to feel awful for thinking that, though.

A terrible silence then filled the air between us. I didn't respond to the last thing he'd said, and certainly didn't know what to say next. We just sat in the shade together, listening to the wind and staring at the yellowy grass, until finally Jake started to get up, and moments later, I followed.

"Might as well get going," he said, something missing from his voice. He didn't sound irritated or unhappy, just...disappointed? That wasn't quite it, but I think it was the closest word I could think of. On the flip side, he didn't sound particularly happy, either, or excited or interested in the rest of this journey, and I think I knew why.

I started behind him, again without responding, until I finally found my voice. "So I take it you don't have a boyfriend?" I asked, feeling immediately stupid afterwards. And insensitive.

"No," said the Doberman, shaking his head.

"Have you ever?"

Jake and I then entered the forest, just as I asked, pushing branches and bushes out of the way, and for a while, simply concentrating on not falling over or hitting our heads.

"A couple," he answered quickly, ducking under some larger branches. The sound of twigs and leaves snapping and crunching beneath our footpaws sounded constantly as we slogged through the thick, buggy forest. "None of them lasted, though, not for very long. They didn't seem to appreciate my aggressive tendencies."

Had he shown me aggressive tendencies? If he had, they'd gone totally unnoticed. Or perhaps that one high school kid I was with a couple times had just gotten me used to it. He was one of those types who are really big into leather and whips and chains and stuff; never really my thing, but it was fun all the same. Of course, he got way more pleasure out of it than I did, since I didn't particularly get off on being hurt, though Jake hadn't hurt me that much, at least not in that way. I suppose the way Jake had taken off my pants could be seen as aggressive, but it wasn't that bad. Maybe those guys were just wimpier than I was. Or perhaps he was just way softer on me..?

"So when did you first begin to realize you were gay?" I asked, not sure why I was feeling so inquisitive - I mostly wanted to divert my mind from the growing feeling of guilt bubbling in my gut. I then luckily dodged a flying branch, and I had to wonder if Jake was intentionally trying to hit me with them.

The dog shook his head. "I dunno," he answered. "Years ago, probably before high school, though I guess I can't really pinpoint a date. I can just remember staring at some of the other boys in gym class... It was difficult to hide, particularly in the showers, but I guess I got used to it. It also helped that one of the other kids was definitely gay, so most attention went to him, which I guess was unfortunate for the guy; he got beaten up a lot."

I could certainly relate to that.

"I never dated anyone until high school, though, and fortunately since I was on the football team, it was easy to deny if it ever came up... In retrospect, I guess that was a shitty thing to do to the guys, but it was the reason why I only dated a couple. Had lots of friends, though..." Jake sounded regretful of that, and I found myself wishing I'd known him in high school; things would have been so different...though I suppose he'd have treated me the same then as he did when we first met.

"What about you?" asked the dog. "You date anyone before?"

Before what, I wondered? "Nah," I said anyway, which I suppose was pretty much true. "I've been with lots, but none of them were ever interested in relationships. Back then, I was naive enough to think that's what they wanted, but I quickly learned all they wanted was one good night. And yet...I always seemed to be readily available to jump into bed with them, or the locker room, or a stall in the bathroom... I Guess I was never really boyfriend material, or something." Very rapidly, I began to regret saying all that, feeling something like a slut now. It wasn't that I was particularly loose or easy, just...eager, I guess, to get into a meaningful relationship, and I was silly enough to think sex would lead to that.

Jake shrugged his shoulders, though, and took a moment before responding. "I think you're great boyfriend material."

I smiled, and of course blushed. "Thank you," I said shyly, then suddenly dodged a flying blur of foliage. I felt like he resisted mentioning Daniel, my friend up north.

That, of course, started to make me feel bad again. I had to keep telling myself Jake and I weren't actually together, that this was just...out of lust, I continuously thought of it as. We were both thankful we'd saved each other, and showed that appreciation, nothing more. But...then why did I feel guilty? It's not like I was cheating on Daniel or anything, since he and I weren't really in a relationship, either. Of course, it was sort of intended to lead that way, but neither of us really knew. And less than four days ago, Jake and I had met for the first time, and I hated him. But... I sighed heavily and continued along, following a few feet away from Jake.

Finally we reached another opening, though I still felt like we were forever away from the city, despite Jake assuring me we were almost there; we would probably reach the city tomorrow, he said, though that was hard to believe. After trekking through the grassy field in the hot mid-afternoon sun, Jake removed his hoodie and for now just had it tied around his waist, not particularly caring how unfashionable he looked. His upper half was incredibly fashionable, of course, at least in my opinion.

His smooth, glossy black fur glimmered in the sun, and the sweat only helped further define his awesome muscles, which I of course loved watching, especially when the terrain became particularly rugged. And I loved how lithe he appeared, his muscular back working down into a relatively thin, very athletic waist, something I so badly just wanted to wrap my arms around and say I...no, wait, scratch that.

Finally, though, after a few hours of tiring and sweaty walking, the sun started to set, and Jake found a good spot to set up camp. We both went around to collect firewood, setting up the fire strategically behind some rocks so the aliens wouldn't find it as easily. At least, that was our hope. Once the fire was going, we sat down, hungry and thirsty, and regretting the things we didn't bring with us from the farmhouse. We didn't sit particularly close to each other, since I wasn't particularly sure how appropriate that'd be. Though we weren't in a fight or having an argument, it certainly felt as if we were. Every so often I would glance up at Jake, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

"Jake..?" I said, trying to get his attention. Slowly he looked over at me, face almost completely unchanging.

He didn't say anything, but I could tell he wanted me to continue.

"You doing okay?" I asked, though really that was just my subtle way of asking him to tell me what was wrong.

"Yeah," he said.

"You seem like something's wrong."

Jake sighed, staring into the fire. I think he was trying to figure out just what he wanted to say, so patiently I waited. Finally, "I just wish I'd known about your friend before we...you know...slept together. Then I wouldn't have..."

I lowered my head a bit, purposely not trying to defend myself too hard - I didn't want to come off as desperate or needy or something like that. But I had to say something. "I didn't know things were going to turn out like that," I said, voice low, especially against the noisy, snapping fire.

"Well you could have stopped me," Jake argued. "You could have said something, and I'd have respected it and left it where it was."

"I told you before, Daniel and I aren't actually boyfriends."

Jake frowned. "But you'd like to be, right?"

I scratched my arm. "Well yeah, I guess so..."

"So what now?"

I shrugged slowly. "I'm not sure." My stomach was turning from this conversation, and I sure as hell didn't like where it was headed. It felt as though Jake was breaking up with me, though I couldn't seem to stress enough how we weren't together.

"I didn't," I began to say, face burning. I had to stop, though, to collect myself. "I didn't not want you to do that," I said, not intentionally being so confusing.

Jake looked over at me.

"I mean..." I felt nervous as hell. "Like..." I also felt like Jake knew what I was trying to say, but enjoyed watching me suffer. "I kinda...you know? Like...I wanted it."

And Jake just kept staring at me, his face completely nondescript and unreadable. I just stared back modestly, sinking into my black-furred shoulders and blushing heavily.

"I...never expected to sleep with you. But more than that...I never expected to want it." My stomach suddenly turned heavily, and I felt like I was about to puke, but fortunately showed no signs of it. And still that damn dog was staring at me, like he was trying to decipher my language.

"So what are you saying?" the dog finally said, stone-faced.

I sighed heavily. "I've never met anyone, much less a dog, as brave as you are. And I know we hated each other, but...you defended me so selflessly."

"So what we had was a Thank You Fuck?"

"No!" I shouted, but I had to resist yelling angrily. "No," I said again, this time a bit more calm. "I like Daniel, a lot. He just might be one of my best friends. He's caring, he's honest, and he always seems to be there when I need him. And though my relationship with him has always been uncertain, all I know now is that I have never felt as...horrible toward him as I do toward you."

Jake tilted his head, telling me he didn't understand.

"No horrible, but, like, good-horrible. You make my heart race, Jake, to speeds I'm not sure I've felt it go before. You make me sweat, you make me blush, my stomach's always turning when we get close, and only you can change my emotions at the drop of a hat." I then sighed loudly. "I'm not really good at this stuff, and since I hate you so much, it makes it that much harder."

Jake may have smiled a little.

"Daniel seemed so certain at one point, like there was no one else I could imagine being with. And it kills me to say this...but I can only imagine one other."

"So what're you going to do when you reach the city? I mean, with Daniel."

I hadn't given that nearly as much thought as I probably should have. Obviously I couldn't have both he and Jake, and despite my staggering amount of guilt, I think I wanted Daniel just a little less. He was a kind-hearted soul, but I had no doubt he would have little trouble finding someone else. After all, we'd both very much concluded before I started this trip that there wasn't yet a real relationship, and only after meeting in person could we begin to establish something.

Though what made this situation worse was four days ago, Daniel was probably at the bus station ready to pick me up, wondering what the hell happened to me, and the bus for that matter. He would have no doubt figured out what had happened on the highway, and probably assumed the worse. But with all the destruction, they probably wouldn't have made any real conclusions as to the death toll, and may not even have mentioned a totalled Greyhound. Either way...Daniel was probably sitting at home on his computer, constantly waiting to see what happened to me; though he wasn't my boyfriend, he did still care for me deeply. And so the thought of admitting to Daniel I was probably in a relationship already made my stomach hurt, but doing this after his five days of worrying...it was almost enough to kill me.

Finally I turned to Jake, no doubt with a face full of guilt, angst and pain, and managed to squeeze out, "I don't know." The first thing I would have to do when I got to the city was find a wireless hotspot as fast as I could, so I could at least fire off a quick email explaining what happened, then perhaps imply I had a bit of bad news...or not. I wasn't sure yet how to handle that situation, above every other. Either way, I needed to contact him. And if it was a Starbucks, get something to eat while I was at it.

"How about you?" I asked the dog.

Jake shrugged. "Well, my sister - Nora - is probably already pissed that I never showed up. No idea if she'll know what'd happened, so hopefully she won't assume I'm dead. She'll probably just assume I bailed on her... Either way, she'll have no doubt finished moving by now, or by the time I get there, at least the stuff she wanted me to help with. So I guess when I get to the city, my first job will be finding Nora's place, then trying to console her. Probably with dessert."

"And then..?" I said, I think Jake knowing full well what exactly I was getting at; would he and I get back together again? Or would that be the last we'd see each other?

Jake shrugged his shoulders softly. "I'm not sure," he said, gazing at me.

"We could find each other afterwards..? You on Facebook?"

"Everyone's on Facebook."

Good point. Of course, I didn't yet know Jake's last name, and I was certain he didn't know mine. How common was the name Jake, anyway? But what if he was using Jacob?

"Jake Kirby," said the dog suddenly, as if he was reading my mind.

I just stared astonished for a moment, before finally saying, "As in...the little pink Nintendo character?"

Jake sighed and frowned. "Yeah..." he admitted, both looking and sounding ashamed, and just a little bit irritated; he probably got that comparison a lot more than he wanted.

"That'll be easy to remember," I mused. "Well I'm Lauren Cooper," I proclaimed proudly. I didn't know anything about my last name, like its ancestry, but I always thought it sounded like a cool mystery novel writer's name, or even the name of a character in those novels; my parents always had mystery novels lying around the house, most of them probably overdue.

Jake then smiled a little bit at me, and I smiled back, feeling like we finally established something.

I blushed a tiny bit more, though I wasn't sure that was really possible."Even though your friends are huge assholes like you...I want to see you again, when we get back home, I mean."

"You have such a way with words," said Jake sarcastically. He then started to crawl a bit closer, and I didn't move. "Maybe I should beat you up..."

That suddenly reminded me of something. "Don't I still owe you a punch in the face?" I asked, just as the dog reached me.

Our noses bumped together. "It didn't have to be in the face," Jake reminded me. "But yes, I suppose you do."

"Do I have to warn you first, or can it be any time?"

"I'd appreciate knowing first, but I guess randomly still counts."

"Are you seriously going to let me punch you?"

Jake smiled. "Anywhere you want, baby... Except no low-blows, remember."

"Aw..."

The dog suddenly kissed me, and though initially surprised, I eased up quickly and kissed him back, moaning quietly as our maws opened. He pushed in deeper, and of course when our tongues met, an instant elation flew through my body. I raised one paw to Jake's shoulder, then another to gently rub against his cheek, just as the dog pushed me down onto my back, my laptop bag safely stowed against the side of a rock. He and I made out for a while longer by the fire, until Jake finally pulled away slowly, though I managed to sneak in one more tiny kiss before his face was too far from mine.

"What was that for..?" I asked shyly, face beet-red. Fortunately it was mostly hidden behind my dark fur, though I had a feeling Jake could somehow tell.

"Because I think you're cute," the dog replied. "Even though you wear girl's clothes."

I frowned. "Not all the time," I said. "Besides, you're SO not worth changing for."

The dog just laughed quietly and kissed me again, and though I couldn't see it, I think his tail might have been wagging, too. Unfortunately, while in the middle of kissing the Doberman, I felt my stomach suddenly grumble loudly, and a tiny bit painfully, which distracted me from the kiss. Jake of course noticed this - and may have experienced it himself, for all I knew - and just stared down at me.

"Sorry," I said. "We probably should've brought food with us. Those peaches weren't exactly filling, and I'm pretty sure they were long expired, too..."

Jake sighed quietly. "Yeah, I know. But...it shouldn't be much longer until we reach the city. We'll get something there, okay? I'll even pay; call it a first date."

"If that's a first date, then what's all this?"

Jake smiled. "Foreplay." Then he kissed me again, something I wasn't going to get tired of any time soon. But after a while, my stomach got the better of me once more, quickly killing our buzz. The dog held his belly for a second, then put a paw on mine, which seemed to make it grumble once again. He then began to slide that paw upward, under my top and I had to gasp when one of his pawpads slid over and stopped at my left nipple.

"Ooh," I said softly. It was then Jake got both paws under there, trying to remove my shirt, which I assisted with quickly.

He slid both his large, powerful paws up my body again, his brown paws and forearms sticking out against my black fur, until he reached my chest, where both paws somehow managed to find my nipples. He rubbed them gently, which of course made me moan quietly, daring to use his claws a bit, too. I squirmed and made strange noises, the pressure building quickly between my sheath, underwear, and pants.

"Ooh, Jake," I murmured, my paws now feeling up his strong, muscular arms. Then I think he flexed them a little, just for me, then put both paws firmly on the ground on either side of my head, now kissing me passionately. My paws came to rest at his sides while we kissed, my hips and body squirming and moving, begging for more. His tongue tasted sweet - like old pears in light syrup - and occasionally, tickled the inside of my maw. But soon, that horrid, painful grumbling in my stomach broke the gentle rhythm of our kiss, and though I was practically bursting from my pants - and I assumed Jake was, too - I had to break off the kiss and groan to myself. "Fuck!" I spat, turning away, embarrassed.

"It's okay," said Jake, though he did sigh. "Don't worry about it."

I just groaned again, this time because I was so irritated with my stupid stomach. "I do want you, I promise," I said, then grabbed his wrist. After forcing his paw down onto my crotch, I said, "See?"

Jake just gave a nice, moan-producing squeeze and laughed. "Ah, yes, I do see. I believe you now." I didn't completely appreciate his facetiousness, but I was hardly in a state to care. Finally, though, the dog got up, towering over me for a second before stepping away. "I'm going to go find some more firewood," he said. "Before the sun completely sets."

I sighed heavily, still rock-hard inside my pants, and wanting him bad. "Okay," I said, ears flattened a bit. Shortly after I heard the dog leave, though, my paw had instantly found its way down into my pants, and I moaned softly.

"Ahh," I moaned to myself, leaning back against one of the rocks that was, in theory, supposed to protect us from alien sight. I closed my eyes and with a smile, stroked my sheath, gradually exposing my shaft more and more until I suddenly realized I had definitely crossed the line between just pleasuring myself and full-on masturbation. No longer able to deny it, I zipped my pants the rest of the way down and fully exposed my throbbing skunk-meat to the cool, dusky air. I moaned quietly again, then began to stroke my shaft a lot more thoroughly.

Of course, images of Jake flashed through my mind, most of him from behind as I watched him walking through the grassy field and the baking sun, his soft, glossy short fur reflecting beautifully, showing off every curve and bulge of every muscle. His strong yet lithe body...turned me on so much, and though I badly wanted him inside me, all I had to work with at that moment was remembering when he actually had been inside me, that large piece of hard flesh pounding in and out of my body relentlessly...filling me with such enormous pleasure, and then there was the knot!

I suddenly gasped and shook and groaned when a large shot of precum fired from my cock, nearly going overboard. "Holy shit," I said quietly, panting hard and paw still firmly grasped around my shaft. "Intense," I said aloud, though I wasn't really sure why. Either way, with a bit less speed this time, I began stroking once more, moaning with my maw closed, eyes still shut, and still thinking about that incredible Doberman.

This time, though it was frightening as hell, I recalled that fight against the aliens. Besides defending me so fearlessly, I had to admit, there was something about him emerging from that ruined shelf, all dirty and cut, that really turned me on. I wasn't into pain or blood or anything weird like that, but he just seemed so...rugged, perhaps. Like those cuts and bruises were nothing; something he acquired on a daily basis, and like a lone fighter in one of my dozens of video games, he wore every injury proudly.

"Ooh, Jake," I found myself saying once more, admittedly opening one eye just to make sure he wasn't somewhere watching me. After confirming I was alone, I continued where I left off, though I was more carefully looking at his strong muscles, especially when he was holding that weapon. They looked strained and worked-out, and of course were covered in sweat and blood, an odd, arousing combination - it was far from arousing then, of course, but in retrospect, under different circumstances it would have been extremely sexy. It then occurred to me that I never really realized strong, sweaty guys turned me on, but apparently they did. Or was it because it was Jake? Did I like him then? Or was that before..? I think that was actually the moment where I began to realize he maybe wasn't so bad. Either way...the dog turned me on.

I continued to pleasure myself in such a way for a while longer, occasionally making a soft noise, but generally keeping quiet, save the noise of my arm rubbing against the open part of my pants. I remembered the dog standing there naked that very morning, not showing off or anything, but just...being sexy. And then he put his arms around me...

"Hey," I suddenly heard, making me yelp and frantically hide my shame.

"Holy fuck!" I cried out, rapidly managing to hide everything, just as Jake came into view.

"What were you doing?" asked the dog.

I was panting and sweaty. "N-Nothing," I said. "Did you find firewood?"

Jake promptly set down the firewood, putting some on our modest flame. "Yeah," he said. "Why're you out of breath?"

"No reason," I replied, paws covering my crotch.

Jake glared at me, though for some reason, I suspected he knew precisely why I was out of breath. He then poked at the fire for a bit, sending thousands of glowing ashes bursting into the darkening sky, then he said without turning his head, "You want me to finish you off?"

I blushed heavily and sunk into my shoulders. "It's okay."

Then Jake turned and came toward me, on his paws and knees, and pushed my paws away, digging into my pants, despite my answer. He gave me a hungry glare and quickly found my hard, aching cock, and began to stroke it slowly, gradually working it out of my pants.

I just moaned softly and leaned back against the rock, soon pushing my pants down more. "You don't have to," I said breathlessly, but he silenced me with a kiss. And what a kiss it was. Like every other, it started off rather modest, but within seconds he pushed his head forward, tilting a bit and our tongues wrestled together. I held my paws at the back of Jake's head, clinging on as if wanting him to kiss me forever, and luckily, he didn't seem particularly inclined to back away yet. His stroking my shaft didn't seem to let up much, too, which was making me groan even more than his deep, sensual kissing.

Of course, with his kissing me, our soft lips and tongues gently brushing together, I was certain I wasn't going to last very long, though if he continued as slowly as he was going, it could last an excruciatingly long time. Suddenly, I moaned especially loud, breaking the kiss for a moment as my body trembled and precum shot from my shaft. "Ooh, fuck," I groaned, gripping a bit tighter at Jake's shoulders and pulling him back in to kiss me. I murmured softly as we simply shared shorter, smaller kisses, our tongues still brushing together but equally as arousing.

Several minutes passed, or so it felt, and Jake continued to kiss me, his maw now down around my neck as he kissed and nipped at me, his paw not moving a hell of a lot faster, but Christ, I was ready to blow. And yet when it felt like I was nearly about to - generally when I let out sharp moans and bucked a little - nothing would happen, and I would simply groan and beg the dog for release, but he would just bite me a little bit harder and laugh.

"Please," I begged, breathing heavily. But as predicted, Jake just laughed a little and bit my neck, which made me gasp more pleasurably than I would care to admit, but then rubbed the spot several times after.

"What will you do for me?" he asked. "If I let you cum..."

"Any-AH!-thing..."

Jake then moved his maw very close to my ear, so much so he ticked the fur around it, and said, "I want you to blow me."

I then moaned sharply when Jake gave a tight squeeze to my shaft, continuing shortly after. I was a little surprised, for some reason, when he said that, and had no idea where all this lust had come from, but it seemed to supersede my hunger, fortunately. One way or the other, I didn't seem to have a whole lot of choice in the matter, lest I suffer from an extremely painful erection for the rest of the night, one Jake would apparently ensure didn't get satisfied. Perhaps this is what his previous dates didn't like about him, though I was sure there were numerous other things, too.

"Fine!" I finally said, "I'll do it, fuck! You asshole..."

Jake smiled and kissed my nose softly, then sped up his paw. I moaned and moaned, and within just a few minutes, I cried out as an unbelievably sharp pain shot up through my cock and my balls, my skunk-seed exploding from my shaft in a severe mixture of intense pain and incredible pleasure. I groaned loudly once again while Jake's paw slowed, the ecstasy of the painful orgasm slowly diminishing, until I was left with subtle remnants.

When I opened my eyes, breathing heavily, I noticed Jake take a little lick of my seed, which was all over his paw, and oddly that made me blush. He just smiled at me and sniffed the creamy white spunk, then licked a little more off. Shortly thereafter, though, the dog moved his paws down toward his pants, unzipping them quickly and unbuttoning, then pushed both sides apart and slid both his pants and his boxers down, and within lay the tip of what looked like a rock-hard shaft, apparently ready to be sucked on.

"You ever given a guy a blowjob before?" asked Jake, shuffling closer.

I couldn't keep my eyes off his cock-tip, that is until his paw rested under my chin and pulled my face upward, until our eyes met. I blushed even more. "Yeah," I said, captivated by his deep, dark eyes. "One guy in high school," I explained, "that's all he wanted from me. Didn't want to fuck me, didn't want me to fuck him... He just wanted blowjobs. He later told me his girlfriend was no good at it, and he was just using me for that purpose."

"Oh," said Jake. "Well you don't have to give me a blowjob if you don't really want to."

"No no," I said, smiling a little. I reached my paw forward and cupped his brown-furred balls, massaging them between my palm and fingers. He gave a soft moan, but still looked down at me. "After he told me that, I didn't want to suck his cock...but I definitely want to suck yours." I then blushed even harder, which seemed to make the dog smile.

My paws then found their place at the top of Jake's pants, and as he shuffled slowly toward me, his red-hot cock-tip bright against his dark fur, I gradually pulled them down a bit more, until they stopped somewhere mid-thigh. When the dog finally stopped, he placed his paws against the huge rock behind me and just growled quietly, I think awaiting my touch. On his knees, Jake's red cock-tip seemed to hang there in front of my face, twitching and oozing precum, begging to feel my tongue.

And within moments, my tongue delighted the cock-tip's biggest desire, lapping up a bit of pre and Jake just moaned. I then raised a paw to his balls once more, gently massaging them and using my other paw to pull back his sheath - within still remained his knot, which had already fully formed. And for now, I simply stroked his wet, throbbing dog-meat, working his warm, fuzzy balls for a bit, just a bit of foreplay or teasing before the main event. I moaned softly as more and more precum leaked from his shaft, and of course Jake's obvious, audible pleasure made me blush uncontrollably. Oh how I loved hearing his little cries of pleasure, knowing it was me who was bringing him such carnal joy. Finally, I pulled back on Jake's sheath enough to expose his total length, knot and all, and revelled in stroking the whole thing, marvelling at its size. It was hard to believe that entire rock-hard piece of flesh had somehow managed to fit inside my body...

With that thought in mind, I desperately wanted it inside me again, though through a different orifice this time. With my studded tongue sticking out from my maw, I held his shaft firmly below his knot with one paw - the other still around his balls - and licked up the entire length. Jake let out a long, quiet sigh of pleasure as my tongue slid upward, then made a sort of relieved exhale when I finished. After seeing a smile sweep across Jake's face, our eyes meeting for just a second, I looked back down and gave the dog another lick, slow and sensual, then another, getting a very good taste for his hot, red cock.

The taste danced on my tongue with every lick, the sweet, salty sensation thrilling me in ways cum never really had. And so I gave a few more dutiful licks, enjoying the taste and the feel of his rock-hard shaft gliding beneath my tongue. For a short while, I simply stroked his length softly as my tongue danced gingerly at the tip of his shaft, forcing out delighted moans from the dog, which of course only made me want to continue.

"Fuck," said Jake between breaths, "what the hell are you doing?"

I didn't respond, but I could tell he enjoyed it immensely. And so for a while longer, I continued with a firm grip on his dog-meat. My tongue lapped at his tip, the end of my tongue just barely grazing it now, while my paw ran down and around his knot, giving hearty squeezes while stroking a little, all the while my tongue simply teased his shaft; a bit of payback for earlier.

"God, Lauren," Jake moaned, "you're brutal." His body shook and shivered while he moaned and growled, and every so often he would let out big breaths, like he was holding his breath while my tongue teased him relentlessly. "F-aah...ck..." he whined.

At long last, though, when it seemed Jake could take no more - he was trembling quite a bit now with every lick of my tongue, and it felt like he was continuously making and unmaking fists - I decided to finally begin. With one paw now around his cock base, below his knot, and the other gripping his knot, I slid my tongue up his length one final time, lapping hard at his tip before finally wrapping my soft, dark lips around his eager, twitching cock-tip, then descended slowly.

As my tongue grinded against the underside of Jake's shaft, my lips forming a fairly good seal around the circumference, I heard Jake let out a long, very loud moan, cursing God's name when I finally reached the end, then I backed out. Before my lips slid off of Jake's cock, though, I was eager to go back down, taking in a breath through my nose, and when my lips landed somewhere near his knot, my paw accompanied my maw back upward, holding onto the slick shaft firmly as I began to bob. When I pushed back down, I endeavoured to take in the whole shaft, sans the knot, which I felt barely tickling the back of my throat an inch or so away from total intake. Slowly but surely, I took more and more of the cock in my maw, and soon, my throat.

Jake was moaning almost continuously, and it definitely seemed as if he was restraining, or something, like he wanted to take control and really ram his cock in, but didn't. Grateful for that, I moaned softly, however muffled it was, and continued along, bobbing a bit more quickly, and though it gagged me a bit, I did finally manage to take in his whole cock, which pleased me greatly - though perhaps not as much as it pleased Jake.

Soon, he and I worked our bodies into a steady rhythm, the dog pushing forward while I bobbed my head down, but again, it was clear he was holding back. I guess that so-called aggression those other guys didn't like, Jake was consciously withholding from me, which was the sweetest gesture any guy had ever shown me in bed, or rather, during sex. With that in mind, I curled my tongue and pushed it against his shaft as well as I could, trying to make this blowjob as memorable as possible, all the while stroking and massaging his big, thick knot.

"Uagh," cried Jake, who was now panting heavily. If he was saying words to me, I didn't come anywhere near understanding them, though the tone in which he spoke them said plenty. He was clearly in ecstasy, which thrilled me to pieces.

And faster and faster I went, the dog moaning and shaking and crying constantly, both of us in sheer ecstasy, until I could go no faster. This was it...we were nearing the end. My heart was racing, and with every few bobs or so I couldn't stop myself from moaning - and gagging - but I managed with ease. Breathing heavily through my nose, I held Jake's cock still with one paw, holding his knot tightly, while the other paw stroked him off, moving just outside my lips as I bobbed quickly up and down, now easily taking his whole shaft into my throat.

"Ah, fuck!" Jake shouted, and I heard him smack his paw against the rock. "L-Lauren - fuck! - I'm gonna...ah, shit!...fu-fu-ah...Aah!"

With as much warning as Jake managed to spurt out, I felt his paw grip firmly against my head and suddenly ,while he cried out extremely loud, he forced his cock deeper into my throat than I'd been doing, his knot stuck about half way inside my maw now. The dog moaned and howled as he held his shaft deep inside my maw, shaking and pushing forward, and in that instant I felt something hot and gooey splash into my throat, causing me to gag and cough, though it was totally suppressed my his knot jammed in there, my lips forming a very tight seal around its thickest circumference.

"Relax," said Jake between loud moans, his free paw gently stroking my cheek, and though I was gagging and trying to cough, tears now formed in my eyes, I closed them and relaxed as best I could, now feeling his great amounts of hot dog-seed sliding more easily down my throat, until he finally stopped.

The Doberman just held me there for a moment as I felt his body loosen up, and though his orgasm had finished, he held his big dog-meat inside me for a little while longer, no longer being choked by its length and girth. For now, he just kept his knot right there like a ball-gag, and we shared a moment there not unlike when he'd knotted me the night before. We were both breathing heavily, myself through my nose, basking in the warmth of the fire, and our steamy musk, which filled our lungs easily.

Finally, Jake decided to pull out, releasing my head-fur and slowly his slick, cum-coated shaft oozed from my maw, a fair amount of cum coming with it. It dangled there against his dark fur for a while, still looking as if it was fully formed, though quite clearly it was starting to recede, dripping with saliva and spunk. Jake, knees on either side of me, finally decided to sit, his bum resting on my thighs, and he finally opened his eyes to look at me. He was blushing, too.

"Fuck," said the Doberman, who leaned his head in close to mine.

He and I just continued to gaze into each other's eyes, little smiles on both our faces, but otherwise we were expressionless. We just sort of sat together, near the campfire, basking in the soft afterglow of intense male bonding, a particular air of lust still surrounding us.

After a long, long while, our noses suddenly bumped together, softly jolting us out of our haze. I just smiled and rubbed Jake's cheeks with both my paws, not yet bothering to clean up his white, sticky mess from my chin. My heart was beating more heavily than it was quickly, and together we shared another long, wonderful kiss. The mixture of the Doberman's warm canine seed and his soft tongue pleasured me in ways I could hardly describe, and though the kiss eventually did end, I naturally never wanted it to.

When Jake's lips pulled away from mine - though still very close - we nuzzled softly and hugged, holding our chests together for long enough so we felt our body heat mixing, creating a loving warmth our small fire could hardly replicate. Someway, somehow, this dog I felt I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

Long after the sun had gone down, and sometime after the fire had gone out, Jake had sat himself down against the rock and I simply sat between his legs, back leaning against his chest while his arms wrapped around my waist, and together we gazed at the millions upon millions of glittery stars. Neither of us spoke, but we sure as hell enjoyed each other's company, keeping ourselves warm easily and just generally cuddling until we started to doze. The last thing I remembered from that night was being held in Jake's arms, so warm and happy, then feeling several small, adorable kisses on my head and neck, then I guess I fell asleep.

Morning came quick, the sun fully risen but still below our little rock valley, and when I lifted myself off the ground and rubbed my dreary eyes for a bit, I quickly realized Jake was gone. I got up, and after finding my balance, looked around, tripping over rocks and roots and other natural obstacles, until I saw the Doberman standing in front of a group of bushes, probably taking a leak.

I came up slowly behind the dog, trying to be quiet but probably not nearly as stealthy as I wanted to be, and began to rub his strong shoulders.

Jake just turned his head and smiled, finishing up what he was doing and zipped up. He then turned around, my paws staying more or less where they were, and put his paws around my waist. The Doberman, still with that handsome smile, pulled me in for a kiss, to which I happily obliged, holding my paws around the back of his neck.

When it ended, for the time being I rested my head on his chest, hugging him tightly.

"Sleep well?" asked the dog.

I nodded, which to the untrained eye would have looked perfectly similar to nuzzling.

"Ready to head out?"

"More or less," I answered quietly, finally releasing the dog from my deadly grip. "Just have to grab my laptop."

"Get a move on, then," said Jake, slapping my rear as he turned me around. I guess he assumed skunks didn't need to pee, but nevertheless, I ventured back to our little campsite and found my laptop, and Jake's hoodie as well. With a gentle, and somewhat cheeky smile, I grabbed the hoodie and held it to my nose, taking in a deep breath of Jake's canine scent. It smelled...musky, I suppose, like how a dog should smell, except it had something particular about it, something that made it that much more intoxicating. Either way, I took in another whiff, smiled, and decided to wear Jake's hoodie, throwing up the hood and just checking myself out, sniffing quickly at the sleeves and side of the hood, feeling content to be wearing something that seemed to be a favoured garment.

It was quite large on me, though I think I owned one of similar size - as well as smaller sizes, one of which only covered the top portion of my torso, and had a lovely pink heart on the front - but the inside lining was made of some kind of black faux fur, which of course meant it was very plush and also very warm. Why he was wearing it around in the summertime I had no idea, though I suppose it was always a little bit colder further up north. After twisting around a bit, to get a good feel for his hoodie against my own fur, I finally threw on my laptop bag and climbed out from the tiny valley.

Jake was waiting for me still, just grinning at me as I approached wearing a piece of his clothing. "That's a men's sweater," he told me.

"Fuck you," I said, then suddenly my stomach reminded me just how empty it was.

"Now are you ready?"

I thought about it for a moment, then felt confident I was. "I have to pee first..."

Jake then stepped aside and though he'd clearly marked his territory, I was about to take over, and within moments, I relieved myself right in his spot. Shortly after, Jake and I finally began heading north once more, continuing through the large field of grass and, as usual, toward a group of trees.

The terrain, I'd realized that morning, had slowly become more rugged and rocky, which gave me the impression we were certainly getting closer, and when I looked about, trees more were sparsely populated, though there was still plenty abound. I did a lot more climbing, anyway, than I had before, and with the sun rising higher and higher, I began to really sweat in this hoodie. Jake, however, was apparently enjoying the gentle breeze.

"So tell me," Jake said, walking next to me; for now the ground was flat. He and I were holding paws, and walking a bit slower than we had the previous days. "What do you do?"

"Huh?" I managed to say, the hood of Jake's sweater having been pulled back a while ago. I looked at the dog, curious what he was getting at.

Jake gave my paw a little squeeze before continuing. "Well, I mean...despite everything, we hardly even know each other. So, let's start... Where do you work?"

"This is dumb," I said, mostly just not wanting to admit what I do. "Why on earth would you want to know where I work?"

Jake shrugged. "I couldn't care less where you work, but I still wanna know."

I sighed. "I work in a factory," I admitted, just imagining all the things he would say about that.

"Really?" he asked. "What do you do there?"

"Uh... I just clean parts, that's all. Engine parts... Nothing interesting."

"That surprises me, for some reason. A skunk as delicate and, uh, as feminine as you, working in a factory with a bunch of macho men? They've gotta know you're gay..."

I frowned. "I don't dress like this at work," I argued. "I just wear a shitty pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, generally. Besides, why can't someone like me work in a factory?"

Jake laughed a little. "Calm down, Lauren, I was just messing with you. It's just...when I picture factory workers, I picture big, tough, greasy fat guys, meanwhile you're small, thin and cute." He then kissed me on the head.

I frowned harder, though it was meaningless since that damned kiss softened me completely. "Well, what do you do?"

"I work at The Equinox. Heard of it?"

I had to think about that for a minute; I didn't tend to get out much. "Isn't it that fancy restaurant downtown?"

Jake nodded. "Yeah, I'm the lead chef there."

"What, seriously?" I asked, surprised. I released Jake's paw from mine and had to take a few steps back, really looking at the dog. We had to stop for a moment. "I find that very hard to believe."

The Doberman just laughed and continued forward again. "Why's that?"

"Well for one you're a huge jerk," I said, holding Jake's paw once more. Our fingers linked and it made me happy to feel him gripping back, like he wanted to hold my paw as much as I wanted to hold his. Jake's pawpads were warm against mine. "And huge jerks don't get respectable jobs in respectable places."

"And where do jerks get jobs?"

"Well I don't know," I admitted. Jake just laughed again, and we continued for a short while in near silence - the grass was rough and dry, so our feet made the only sound. There weren't any planes or birds or other critters making any noise around us, either, like they'd all just up and left.

"All right," the dog continued, "so tell me what you like to do for fun. You know, when you're not at work."

"Jake," I said, ears back a little, "uh, can we not do this?" I really had no interest in admitting how boring I was, particularly because most of my free time was spent either online, or playing xbox. Or both, if I was feeling ambitious.

The dog looked at me curiously. "What's the matter? It's just a simple question."

"Yeah, but... Well why don't you go first?"

The dog looked at me, more puzzled this time. "All right... Well, when I'm not working, there are several things I like to do. One being just hanging out with my friends, maybe have a few drinks, sometimes smoke a little. Otherwise, I might go work out, or go for a run, or just sit at home and be lazy. Work keeps me pretty busy, though, most days. I usually get the middle of the week off, when we aren't as busy, but sometimes I have to work weeks in a row."

"Hm," I managed to say. Jake didn't do a whole lot that surprised me. It was obvious he had many friends, and even more obvious he worked out. At least we had a few things in common: we both run, and both apparently like to be lazy. By the sounds of it, though, Jake liked to be lazy with his friends more often than not.

"So?" Jake said. "Your turn."

I sighed. "It isn't very interesting..."

The dog just kept looking at me expectantly, and I feared telling him what I like to do. It wasn't that I thought he would find it abhorrent, or anything. It was just...everything about Jake seemed so much more interesting, and I suppose I could say I was ashamed of it. It was painful enough having to admit my job to him, much less what I do for fun. You would think someone with such a horrid job would be a hell of a lot more fun-loving, but I liked lazy, uneventful days as much as any other.

"I don't really do anything," I finally admitted, cheeks red and turning away. I felt like I was instantly being judged for something, despite the fact the Doberman still kept his maw closed. I think he was waiting for more details. "Uhh..." I drew that single syllable out for as long as possible without looking mental. "Well, I mean...if I'm not working, I don't really do anything."

"So, what, you get home and just sit there until you fall asleep?"

Now I felt even stupider, and I frowned. "No," I said. "I play video games."

"That it?"

"Sometimes I chat with friends online."

"Ah! So you do have friends."

"Shut up!" I barked, still holding paws. "Though...they aren't real friends. Just online, y'know? It's, um..." I really had no idea how to finish that thought. "I nap a lot...and usually go for a run, sometimes two if I'm really bored, or can't sleep."

"Well that isn't so bad," said the dog. "What games do you play?"

"Huh?"

"Me and my friends play games, too, if you can believe it. Modern Warfare 2, lately. I'll bet you have it."

I did.

"Anyway," continued Jake, "I don't particularly care what you do with your spare time, Lauren, because no matter what it is, I like spending time with you, and I want to spend a hell of a lot more."

Now I was really blushing, yet again, then was stopped by Jake so he could hug me, and with a big smile on my face I hugged him back. With the side of my face pressed against his bare, muscular chest, I gave the dog a squeeze and listened to his heartbeat; it was beating about as heavily and as quickly as mine, which excited me. The strong, infallible Doberman had silly emotions, too.

"Lemme ask you something," I said, parting from Jake's sexy midriff. "If we, you know, get together after all this...am I going to have to meet your friends?"

"Not if you don't want to. Why?"

"Well...I don't think they'll like me."

We stopped again, the mid-day sun hammering down on us, and of course I was still wearing Jake's hoodie. "Don't you worry about my friends liking you," he said, turning to me and putting both paws on my shoulders. "I know we were mean to you, Lauren, but we didn't know you then. I know it was shitty, and you know I'm sorry, but trust me, not one of them will say a bad thing about you, especially if I'm around."

"I dunno," I said, looking up at him. Jake had such strong, piercing brown eyes, nearly black, I had no choice but to take him for his word. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Jake and I continued on our journey, enjoying a pleasant breeze and sharing more small facts with each other. For example, I told him my favourite colour was purple - no surprises there - and he told me his favourite colour was red - also no surprises. My favourite food was tacos, especially when they're spicy - Jake was a little surprised I like spicy food - and his was some Italian name, or French name, or something I couldn't pronounce, which is when I discovered he liked spicy food, too. But then he had to inform me there was a proper and improper way of "doing spicy," and chances were I hadn't yet tasted "true spicy." I just knew I liked it. Anyway, the conversation went on for several hours, in multiple spurts throughout that time. Oddly, it relieved me greatly to discover like me, Jake was equally as mechanically inclined as I was, and despite having played a couple years of football in high school, didn't care much for sports. He said he would watch the odd football game or two, but (like me) he hated soccer. Jake confirmed verbally that he didn't have any piercings - which I'd discovered when I saw him naked - but he liked them on me, and especially enjoyed the tongue piercing. Let's see... Jake was a Leo while I was a Cancer, oh, and we both love Root Beer. Neither of us drank much, but when we did it was something simple and common, and usually with friends - Jake drank a lot more than I did, and he hardly did at all.

"And with the finest-grated, fresh Parmesan cheese sprinkled on top," explained Jake, discussing some dish he'd come up with, "it's just... Mm, perfect." Neither of us had the time, but I figured it was somewhere around four in the afternoon, and Jake suggested it would probably be somewhere around dusk when we would reach the outskirts of the city. We came to rest, for now, by a small lake seemingly in the middle of this forest we were traipsing through, with astounding success.

"Shit," I said, stepping into the vaguely sandy, though mostly swampy, grassy shoreline of the lake. I could see the rest of the forest on the other side of the lake, and I was certain, though it seemed wide, I could easily see just how wide, and the curve of either end. "Well fuck."

Jake was close behind me. "Huh," he said, staring into the slightly rippling, barely wavy blue water.

"We can't go around!" I said angrily. "It'll take us hours to go all the way around, then we'll be stuck in this stupid forest in the dark."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark," Jake teased, and I shot him a wicked glance. The dog was wise to back off. "We could break here until tomorrow?" he suggested.

I just sighed heavily, looking around. I didn't seriously expect to find a boat, but I was hoping.

"Or we could swim to the other side... Might be faster, since it's apparently wider than it is long."

"What, in our clothes? I was never really a strong swimmer to begin with. I nearly drowned as a kit at summer camp."

"Really?"

I frowned at the dog.

"Okay, sorry. Well..." he then looked around, too, as if some material object would suddenly appear and solve all our problems. "I'm good to keep going ,and I'm good to swim, and I'm good to camp out for the night. You object to all of those, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave it in your paws."

I then closed my eyes tightly and swore under my breath, though I was certain Jake had heard me. "I don't want to swim," I said assuredly. "It'd be, like, an hour's swim, I'd guess."

"Depends on how strong a swimmer you are."

I frowned again, this time at my poor aquatic abilities - I think Jake was quite proficient at it, judging by the way he talked about it.

"And I don't really want to camp out here, either...which I guess leaves," and I paused to let out a big, long sigh, "going around."

Jake then stepped forward and squinted his eyes, peering out over the lake and on either side. After a minute or two, he relaxed his pose and gave one final glance, as if reconfirming whatever plan he'd come up with. "Okay," he started, "see that big white rock way over there?" The dog pointed across the lake, further on the east side.

I peered over, trying to follow Jake's long, muscular black-and-tan arm to the white rock, and though it took me a moment longer than it had taken Jake to, I did see it. "Yeah? What of it?"

"That's where we're headed, then we can either rest or continue north."

I shrugged. "Okay." And after pulling up the bottoms of my pants a bit, I began trekking through the tall grass, weeds and mucky sand along the coast of this small - yet large, as far as walking around or swimming across goes - lake.

It was actually a very quaint lake, and though I'd only felt the water lapping at the shoreline, it seemed quite warm, too. I could see having a cottage or a cabin or something up here, with a tiny dock to take a rowboat or a canoe out on. But of course you'd need a road to move stuff to and from with, and for hauling things away, and so forth, which evidently there was none. You could always make one, but could people do that? You'd probably have to own the land first before doing anything to it, or so I imagined.

Naturally, though, I began to fantasize about owning a small cabin up here, coming up every summer to relax and get away. And of course Jake was involved in those fantasies. I pictured us so clearly stepping out onto the back patio, up on a wooden deck overlooking the quiet lake with plenty of small critters and creatures making their sounds and singing their songs. Jake would come up behind me and hold me from behind, wearing nothing but boxers - as we'd just gotten up - myself, for some reason, wearing pyjama bottoms, and we both have coffees in our paws. He'd come up behind me and gently hold onto me, something like that one scene in Titanic, though I probably wouldn't hold out my arms. Instead, I would receive a small, gentle kiss from the dog, then turn around to receive another, and in this fantasy, we somehow appeared down at the dock, water lapping up against the side of our small boat - no idea yet how it'd get there - and we'd take it out for a ride, just the two of us, enjoying the warm summer sun, and of course the peace, quiet, and tranquility.

I was suddenly snapped out of my fantasy, though, when my footpaw suddenly sunk into some nasty blackish muck, nearly making me fall forward. "Aw, fuck!" I cried, angrily pulling my footpaw out, the sand sucking on my limb as if to take it back. I then stumbled forward as I tried to avoid sinking in again, but it seemed each step was just one more mess after another, until I reached a tipped-over tree and managed to climb up to more stable ground. Jake was behind me the whole time, laughing as I cursed aloud.

"You're worse than a sailor," Jake mused, cautiously working his way toward me, avoiding the massively deep, black footprints I'd left behind in the sand.

"For fuck's sake," I growled, noticing the muck reaching all the way up to my knees, on my pants, anyway. It got up to my calves, and seemed intent on staying burrowed in my fur, though I tried desperately to sweep it off with my paws; now my paws were dirty. "God damn it..."

"We'll clean you off, don't worry," said the dog, who was desperately suppressing laughter.

"Clean it off with your hoodie," I said under my breath.

"C'mon," said Jake, continuing forward.

After about five or ten more minutes of cursing, I finally stopped and just swore in my head, until an hour or so later I nearly forgot it'd even happened - I think it was because my pants were beginning to dry. When I looked out over the lake again, trying to find the white rock, I finally found it, and though we'd been walking for a while, it seemed no closer.

"God," I complained, "I don't think this stupid lake is as long as it looked..."

"I think you're right."

I frowned. "Great," I said sarcastically. "Well maybe we'll just die, then we won't have to worry about nightfall in this forest. That's when the animals get you, you know. The feral ones. Like bears and...fuck, I don't know. I'm sure there's snakes and spiders all over the place, too, and they're probably all poisonous and want to eat you." At that point, I was tired and probably somewhat delirious, not really having any idea what I was saying.

Somehow I heard Jake roll his eyes, despite my being behind him. "The only poisonous animal you need to worry about is rattlesnakes, and they won't stick around long enough to bite you. Besides, it's only when they feel threatened when they strike, so if we hear one, we just have to avoid it."

I grumbled incoherently to myself, crossing my arms. "I still don't like it," I said.

Jake shrugged. "It seems like we're not going to have much of a choice. If we can find some rocks, or something, we can try to make a more normal fireplace, so we don't burn down the forest."

"Rock-hunting at night? Sounds like fun."

I think Jake was frowning now, though I only saw the back of his head.

He and I continued along for at least a couple hours, the rock finally seeming closer now, and I was beyond sick of dodging branches and avoiding rocks and roots, which seemed even more abundant so close to the water. But it sure as hell beat slogging through the smelly, mucky sand. And I think Jake was relieved I'd grown weary of complaining, since the two of us seemed to move faster when neither of us were talking.

Finally, after maybe another hour or so - it was very difficult to determine time - the rock was very close, and though the lake looked equally as long and narrow as it'd initially looked, it was clearly much rounder than we thought.

"Looks like a bit of beach," said Jake suddenly, walking out of the trees and onto the pebbly sand. I followed, despite my previous, filthy encounter with this shoreline. "Score."

"Score?" I said skeptically. "It's mostly pebbles and grass."

"Yes, but it isn't thick and muddy, either."

"So, what..? You want to set up camp here? The sun's still out."

"Well chances are good by the time the sun does go down, or gets down far enough so we have to stop, we'll be in the middle of the forest with no real place to stop and make a fire. We'll be covered in insects and bushes and plants, as well as cramped with all the trees around."

"I thought you were an advocate for sleeping in the forest," I argued with a frown. I put my paws on my hips to emphasize my point somehow. Finally we reached the rock, where Jake and I stopped. Naturally I leaned back against the rock, trying to rest as best I could.

"That was before I saw there was at least a tiny beach by the white rock. Besides, you still need to clean yourself off, plus I'd wager there's only half a day's walk to the city, so it really makes no difference by this point."

I paused for a moment to think about that. "Are you trying to get me naked?" I asked suspiciously.

Jake smiled. "Now why would I want to do that."

Slowly I slid out of Jake's hoodie, then threw it at him. "I can't imagine." I then unbuttoned my pants.

The dog snorted a laugh, then carefully put his hoodie down, not in the sand, then looked about, probably for firewood.

I simply took off my muddy pants and hung them over a tree branch, then searched around for wood in just my top and red-and-black booty shorts, again enjoying that feeling of liberation. When I bent down to pick up a relatively dry piece of wood, I felt Jake's eyes upon me, and I blushed. When I turned, sure enough he was staring at me.

"I'd almost think you were a girl," he said, holding a lot more dry wood than I was. He simply plunked it down near the white rock, apparently unable to take his eyes off me. "Except I don't think girls get that muddy."

I frowned. "They might," I said, blushing despite my frown. I then turned to face the dog. "Y'never know. Some girls might be a lot dirtier than you realize..." That was my attempt at subtle dirty-talk...no pun intended. I blushed hard at Jake's aroused growl, so I suppose it was successful enough.

"How about it?" said Jake, looking at me lustfully. "How about a quick one, right now?"

"S-Serious?"

The Doberman undid his pants.

I looked down at his crotch, then back up to his face, and he was smiling at me with a particular hunger in his eyes. My heart began to race as the prospect of intercourse with the dog again raced through my mind. What did "a quick one" even mean? Would he just fuck me and be done with it? Why was he so horny, anyway? It felt like I'd just given him a blowjob... He'd shown no signs of it all day, and now, suddenly, he wanted "a quick one." Was it...my panties? Did he like them, after all the teasing and tormenting? Or my top? Or both, perhaps. It wasn't like I wasn't trying to be sexy for him when I took off my pants, but to have it work so quickly, and so easily... I couldn't imagine he was up to something. Perhaps he just saw me next-to-nude, and instantly wanted me bad. That sort of thing happens, doesn't it?

"What do you say?" asked Jake, who was now hanging his pants next to his hoodie. The big, powerful Doberman just stood before me in his plaid, single-colour boxers, full sheath obvious behind the fabric.

"Holy shit," I gasped quietly, amazed for some reason. It wasn't like I hadn't seen it before now, but...he just wanted it so bad. I'd never had a guy want me as badly as Jake seemed to right now. Most guys would want me because despite my denial, I suppose - though I told myself it wasn't like that - I was easy. They didn't want me, they just wanted someone. Anyone, really, and they generally came to me first. A few of them probably even tried to sweeten the deal with promises of a relationship, which of course were incredible lies. But Jake...he wanted ME. Just me, right there, right now, and how could I possibly deny him that?

With a red-faced smile, I turned and with a gentle wave of my white-striped tail, bent forward a bit and slid out of my black-and-red panties, throwing them toward my pants - and missing terribly - then turned back to Jake, who'd just started to remove his boxers.

Jake growled hungrily and before I could remove my shirt, held me by my waist and kissed me deeply, and I instantly felt weak under his power, though I hesitate to admit that. When he released me, he growled again and took me toward the rock, pushing me toward it gently and with his footpaw, kicked at the insides of my calves, wanting me to "spread 'em," as he'd stated it.

I looked back at the dog and saw him pull back his sheath, knot and all, fully exposed to the cool air and approaching, and all I could do was stick out my bum and hope he wasn't too rough on me. Within moments, I felt the Doberman behind me, gripping at my tail and pulling it up, which made me gasp, but it didn't hurt. He felt so powerful and so commanding, though, that it made me a little nervous, but I knew he wasn't going to hurt me. At least, I assumed as much.

When I felt Jake's hot, hard dog-meat poke at my tailhole - causing me to whimper slightly, which was admittedly a little embarrassing - he released my tail and held onto my waist, then ploughed in hard and fast.

"Aah!" I cried out loudly, his shaft spreading my hole way quicker than I was used to. He just growled and pulled out, apparently barking as he pushed back in, and he began to pound my poor little tailhole almost immediately after starting, grunting and grinding and groaning and growling, myself just crying out in pleasured pain. "Ah, FUCK!"

Again and again his rock-hard dog-meat hammered into my body, each time stopping at the base of his knot, though it felt like he was trying to force it in quickly. And with his consistent moaning, which I miraculously heard over my horrible screams, I figured he was pretty close to the end, and like usual that thought made me blush like mad. I think he wanted to knot me again, despite the fact it was just a quickie, which spoke volumes on how he felt about me.

"Ughh-aah!" I cried out, even louder than before, finding it a bit of a turn-on being allowed to be as noisy as I wanted to be. His fucking me was merciless, and it felt intense and incredible, and painful and extremely satisfying. "Ooooh," I moaned, eyes closed and short of breath.

"Ooh, god, Lauren," growled Jake, grunting as he ploughed forward, hammering my cute bum terribly. "I'm...ah, fuck!...so fucking...ugh...c-close..."

Suddenly, Jake gave a couple final thrusts before he cried out in extraordinary pleasure, which synched perfectly with my cries of extraordinary pain, his knot forcing itself through my body until it popped in, which set off Jake's no doubt very pleasurable orgasm. The dog pushed and pushed as he groaned, thoroughly inside my body, and I simply huffed and puffed until he stopped, leaning against the rock with two outstretched arms. We were both huffing and puffing, actually.

Seconds later, I felt Jake's warm body press up tightly against my back, then his arms wrap around my chest and his face slid up against mine, and I think he might have been murring. He rubbed his cheek against mine, still moaning a little with great satisfaction.

"Mm, Lauren," said the dog huskily. "That was amazing."

"It was barely five minutes," I said, though I wasn't arguing.

"Best five minutes of my life," said the dog with what I assumed was a smile - my eyes were closed, plus his cheek was still resting against mine, and he continued to hold onto me tightly. After a moment, he pulled me away from the rock, causing me to moan slightly as I moved around with his great big dog-cock still inside me, and still held me against his chest, like he didn't want to let me go.

"Lauren..." started Jake in a soft, vaguely hoarse voice. He said it quietly, and so seriously, my ears flicked with anticipation. In that pause, my heart was beating heavily as I tried to imagine what he wanted to say, and if it was what I was thinking, I was trying desperately to prepare myself mentally for those words. I was blushing furiously when I heard his lips part, seconds before he began to speak again. "I think..." then a small laugh, "I think I love you."

And there it was. That one, unspeakable word I hadn't ever heard spoken to me in my entire twenty-three years of life. And as I suspected, my mind was reeling. My heart thumped powerfully against my chest, and I think I was sweating heavily, too. Despite the dog's cock up my rear still, I felt so incredibly happy, and so incredibly scared all at the same time. My brain was screaming at me, begging me to say something, and yet I was totally silent. Could I say that word back to him? Would I mean it? I knew I felt something for the dog, something powerful, and something profound. Something I thought I'd felt dozens of times before in my life, but never quite like this. Though I hated him before, I had also never hated a fur more strongly than I did Jake, and I think that exact intensity went for the complete opposite. And I knew what I felt was real, despite all the disappointment in my life, this time...I knew.

I opened my maw slowly, while at the same time raising my paws to cling onto the dog's forearms. "Jake," I started, pausing before continuing. I couldn't think of any way to phrase it other than those classic four words. "I love you, too," I finally said, those very words blasting through my ears like cannon fire, though admittedly I'd never heard a cannon be fired before. But when I said it, the dog held onto me so tightly, I thought for sure he never intended to release me. "God, Jake..." I said, blushing violently, "I love you so much."

The Doberman just laughed quietly and as he gave me a squeeze, rubbed his face against me softly, and I was certain if either of us were cats, we'd both be purring loudly. And for a long, long while, Jake just held himself inside me, like he wanted to preserve this peaceful, tender moment in time. He had released his grip somewhat, though still kept his arms around me, and though my back was still against his chest, we managed to easily hold paws and just gaze out onto the lake. We may have even been swaying slightly in the cool gentle breeze, watching the sliver-moon rise and reflect beautifully against the calm, glassy water.

Finally, though, the dog was eventually forced to pull out of me, and I easily retained every last bit of seed. Nearly naked - I still had my top on - I helped him gather up the collected wood and light the fire. He and I leaned up against the rock, sitting in the sand together, myself opting to sit between his legs and lean back happily against him, enjoying his strong paws resting around my waist, holding onto mine. The fire wasn't huge or impressive, but it kept the parts of us not touching each other warm, and soon Jake and I fell asleep, literally in each other's arms, happy as I think we'd ever been.

When I opened my eyes again, the sun was coming up and Jake was exactly where I'd left him: right behind me, one arm draped around my side and spooning, our bodies resting very close together. When I rose up, I was immediately irritated by the sand all in my sweater, and though I was a little cold in the morning air, and right next to the sizable lake, I took it off anyway, throwing it beside the rest of our clothes. Moments later, Jake started to stir, and a second later I felt his soft lips gently kissing the back of my neck, which made me shiver.

"Good morning," I said modestly, starting my day off with a bit of blushing. If he and I were going to be together, that would be a long, long time of constant blushing. But I suppose that was okay.

"Morning," replied the dog, who nuzzled me for a moment before standing up.

I just looked up at his tall, muscular figure, then smiled at him. Seconds later, I got up, too.

"You never did clean yourself," commented Jake, looking down at my filthy, grimy footpaws.

Parts of me were still dirty all over, more especially the loose, ragged shirt-bandages still tied around parts of my body, and I felt it was probably safe to remove them by now - they were ugly and blood-stained. Much to my dismay, though the wounds were mostly healed, or well enough, anyway, so they wouldn't reopen, I realized they were probably going to leave some nasty scars, which admittedly upset me a little. I just gently rubbed the enormous gash on my thigh, sighing heavily.

"What is it?" asked Jake, who apparently didn't care about the scars he was sure to get.

"Nothing," I said, though it was clearly a lie. Jake saw me rubbing the wound, anyway.

"Your fur might cover it up," he said. I appreciated his effort, and though it was probably true, it still didn't make me feel any better.

"I guess." I then meandered to the lake's edge, dipping my toes in, gasping silently at the frigidity. Though when I stuck my toes in a bit further, then my footpaw, I quickly got used to it, and was relieved to see the blackish muck wash easily from my fur. I stepped in further, slowly wading out, trying my best to ignore the gross, mushy feeling squeezing between my pads. Jake was right behind me, as naked as I was. He, however, was moving faster, apparently not bothered by the icky mud. It didn't take long for the water to reach my thighs, which was very sensitive.

"C'mon," said Jake, who was nearly up to his balls now, a couple feet in front of me. I envied his height, in this case, since I was nearly there now, and it wasn't getting any easier. Luckily, the sun was just peaking over the tops of the trees, which against my black fur made me feel very warm.

I then shrieked loudly as the cold water suddenly splashed against my crotch and the rest of me, Jake having unexpectedly plunged underwater, the ripples from which rose up nearly to my navel. "God damn you!" I cried angrily when Jake poked his head up seconds later, further out than I'd have expected. My arms were crossed tightly against my chest.

"Don't be a wimp," he cried back, at least twenty feet away from me - he really was a strong swimmer.

"Go to hell," I said, not particularly wanting to dive under. "I need to prepare myself."

"That only makes it worse."

"I'll make you worse," I grumbled back. I then watched as Jake swam back toward me, until he rose out of the water and slowly walked toward me, bringing multitudes of ripples and waves with him, which made me growl and back away, yelping silently as the chilly water lapped at my warm, sensitive balls. "Stop!" I said. "It's freezing..."

"The water's nice," said the wet, muscular dog. Though his fur was short and slick, somehow the water only made his definition appear even greater. Then he splashed me, which made me curse loudly.

"Fuck off!" I whined, turning away from him. Though a second later, before he could respond, I growled and threw my paws down into the water, twisting them toward the dog as if to shovel the water onto him. I'd splashed him good, but seconds later I saw how futile my attempts were.

"Nice try," he said, then splashed me again, and I cried out like a girl, though girls probably wouldn't swear as much as I did. Or maybe they would. Either way, it didn't take long for Jake and I to get into some sort of splashing war, until finally he managed to grab hold of me and drag me down into the water with him, despite my loud, profane objections. But inevitably, I ended up all the way underwater, now soaking wet and freezing cold, though I had to admit, the water felt very nice against my aching, healing wounds. And after a bunch more splashes and getting pushed down into the water, I had to admit, I was starting to get used to it.

"I fucking hate you," I shouted, after being pushed into the water. Nevertheless, it didn't stop me from attacking the dog, trying desperately to get him down, though he was bigger, stronger, and as I'd learned earlier, far more skilled in this sort of thing than I was. And yet somehow, I managed to catch the dog off guard, or something, and I tackled him down, both of us getting completely submerged, yet I felt totally victorious anyway. I think he let me win.

"Very good," said Jake, laughing. We were both up to our chests now in the water, footpaws firmly on the gross, waterlogged ground below. "You win..."

"You're damn right I win," I said, then the dog approached me.

With a big smile on his face, Jake gave me a kiss, paws raising from the water and held near the back of my head. And of course, I kissed him back, loving this cold, tender moment. "I'm sorry I splashed you," said the dog.

"Bullshit, you are," I said, then kissed him some more.

Suddenly, though, our gentle kiss was interrupted by an awful sound, one I'd only heard twice before but was extremely familiar. It was the sound of those alien crafts, except it sounded far off. It also sounded...like there were dozens of them.

"Oh, fuck," I said, heart pounding again. Moments later, both Jake and I sank down to our chins as we watched what appeared to be a whole platoon of those alien fighters soar by in some sort of formation, fortunately ignoring us. They soared overhead so quickly, though high in the sky, and there were dozens of them. In just a few short minutes, they were all gone, heading south it seemed, or in that vague direction.

"What the hell are they doing?" I asked quietly, as if they'd be able to hear us.

"I don't know," replied Jake, and he looked about as worried about it as I did. "But I think I want to go see my sister..."

I nodded. "Yeah...agreed." I wasn't particularly concerned with seeing his sister, though I hoped she was okay, but I think Jake understood I was referring to seeing my friend, Daniel, who of course I still cared deeply for. Needless to say, we promptly made our way back to the white rock, shaking out our clothes and despite still being wet, we put them on anyway and continued into the forest, hurriedly pushing through the brush and desperately wanting to see what'd happened, if anything at all. As far as I knew, there wasn't a mothership anywhere near this city, unlike my own, so what were the ships doing? Were they returning?

"I don't remember seeing a whole bunch of ships going toward the city before," I said as I pushed a branch out of my way.

"Me either," said Jake, who was doing about the same. He and I were moving swiftly through the forest, way faster than we had before now. "But, fuck... They could have flown there from any mothership, at any time and from any direction. Who the hell knows what happened." The concern and worry in Jake's voice was clearer than the water in the lake.

I didn't know why the platoon of alien ships had us so worried, as we'd heard no explosions or smelled smoke or anything like that, but...it was something. Intuition, perhaps, something in the air just shook our nerves. They flew like they'd just come back from a conquest, even though I knew absolutely nothing about military procedures, more especially alien. It was all just a horrible feeling in my gut, and probably Jake's, that told us something was terribly wrong, and though we could only hope our loved ones were okay, that feeling of dread couldn't be denied.

Finally Jake and I pushed our way out of the forest, after what felt like an hour or so, and we were both tired and exhausted, and now wet with sweat, rather than refreshing lake water. We were both panting, too, and my heart was racing. It seemed the closer toward the city we got, the more anxious we became. Neither of us had spoken, but continued on through the rocky, grassy field hastily. All I could think was "I hope Daniel's okay," but somewhere deep inside, I had a feeling I was going to be extremely disappointed.

Finally Jake and I came up over a rocky pass, like the edge of a cliff face, and were completely stunned to set eyes upon a large city - though nowhere near as large as the one Jake and I had come from - lying in ruins, multitudes of enormous pillars of thick black smoke rising up like twisted skyscrapers, bending in the wind.

"Oh, God," I said aloud, heart pounding and feeling weak. "Holy shit." I had to close my eyes for a moment just to make sure it wasn't some horrible dream, but when they opened again, the burning, ruined city was still there. "How the fuck..." I then closed my eyes tightly again, feeling almost too weak to stand. Seconds later, I let out a loud sob and fell to my knees, thinking only about Daniel. I couldn't imagine he was left alive in this horrid mess, and it burned me inside.

Luckily, Jake was right there by my side, holding on to me. At least he was keeping it together, meanwhile I started to cry. Daniel...he must have waited hours to see me, waiting at the bus station like a fool, yet no bus would have arrived, at least not one containing me. He was probably devastated, or worried, or something. He must have thought I got cold feet, or I panicked, like I didn't want to see him anymore and stayed home. Surely he would have heard about the mess on the highway...would he have assumed I was dead? Or that I didn't want to see him..? I thought I was going to have the chance to clear all of that up, but now...it was impossible.

How did my friend die, anyway? Did he go out resenting me? He would have surely gone online to see if I was there, just to hear something from me. In fact, he probably tried calling me, but my phone was broken. Did he think I was ignoring him? What if he went out thinking, for whatever reason, I resented him? That thought tore me up inside even more, causing another wave of suppressed sobbing.

"Fuck," I groaned, wiping the tears from my face with my wrists and pawpads. "He... He never knew what happened," I said. "He must have been so confused, so hurt... And now..." And there I went again, loving Jake holding onto me tightly, and though he wasn't showing quite as much emotion as I was, he did sniffle a few times while tears rolled down his face, too.

"C'mon," he said, rubbing my back. "Let's go down there... See if there're any survivors."

"Just give me a moment." I was breathing heavily, trying to regain my composure, and still wiping the tears and snot from my face, which I hesitate to admit, was plentiful. For the time being, I had to put thoughts of Daniel out of my mind, at least so I was able to stand up and walk again. A couple minutes later, I looked up at Jake and held out my paw, and he took it immediately.

After being pulled to my footpaws, I thrust myself into Jake's strong arms, face buried into his shoulder and crying just a little bit more. I was so unbelievably thankful Jake was there for me, and things between us had changed so dramatically. I didn't know what I would have done had I made this journey alone. I would have had no one to console me, and especially no one to hug. And lucky for me, strong, patient Jake just held onto me, rubbing my back. I was so grateful to him, I couldn't think of any way to express that, beyond what I was already doing. Anything more wouldn't have been particularly appropriate in the current situation.

"Okay," I said, backing away a little. I took in a strong whiff of Jake's scent, then backed away completely, looking up at the tall, strong and handsome dog so adoringly, trying to express to him just how thankful I was that he was here. "Let's go," I said with a deep breath and a heavy heart.

Slowly, Jake and I made our way along the cliff, looking for a way down, until finally we spotted a path that may or may not have been manmade. Either way, it looked treacherous, and upon treading it, felt even worse. But slowly and surely, Jake and I made our way down the cliff, momentarily forgetting about everything that'd happened up until that point for fear of our own lives. The adrenaline was certainly pumping like crazy, but we managed to scale the rocky cliff with few life-threatening incidences, though we both experienced a couple. Nothing quite as dramatic as one of us slipping and falling, then the other quickly and implausibly managing to grab his arm and pull him to safety, but there was certainly enough unstable ground and loose rocks to keep our minds focused and sharp.

Finally, at long last, Jake and I reached the bottom, opting to scale down some trees instead of the rest of the cliff, when we reached them. My muscles were sore and beaten, and though I was now on solid ground, the adrenaline was still pumping, making me shake and my heart race. Soon enough, after finding an actual path or trail, we headed along until we reached some sort of civilization. Civilization, of course, came in the form of a bunch of destroyed cars and bloody corpses, no doubt any survivors having taken off hours ago.

"Fuck," I said, closing my eyes and letting Jake guide me past them. It was a small parking area within the trees, no doubt for people who wanted to go hiking along that path we were on. When I received a kind pat on the back, we were on the path carved out by thousands of cars having driven through there, hopefully headed toward the ruined city.

When we finally reached a main road, still there were trees surrounding us, and we really had no idea which way to go to get to the city, though we suspected it didn't really matter. There weren't any cars on the road, and certainly no one to give us a lift. And so we continued in the direction Jake guided us, walking along the side of the road like a couple of vagabonds.

It was eerie walking along the barren road hearing no sounds but the gentle wind and the noise our walking made. The few cars present were destroyed, either run off the road and into the trees or just demolished. Large and small craters riddled the pavement, and there were hardly any corpses. In fact, when I looked around, there seemed to be none. Moreover, all birds and insects, and other noisy creatures were either being totally silent, or had all fled. The road was frighteningly silent, only the sound of our pads scraping and pressing against the road, plus the slight rustling of the leaves caused by the wind.

After a short while, something compelled me to hold onto Jake's strong arm, holding myself close to him as we walked, and he seemed very eager to have me near him.

"You doing okay?" I asked, tears dried on my face now.

"As well as I can be," replied the dog, stone-faced.

"You thinking about your sister?"

Jake paused before answering. "Yeah," he said. "There's a chance she could still be alive."

That seemed incredibly unlikely, but I wasn't about to share that thought with the Doberman. Though perhaps he knew something I didn't, like her new place was a bomb shelter, or something, or at least a basement apartment. Still, who moves out of one place, only to move into a place that couldn't possibly be any better? I suppose there could be some nice basement apartments out there, but...that seemed unlikely, too.

"What're we going to do if, you know...if we don't find them?"

Another pause from Jake. "I don't know," he admitted. "Fuck," he spat, then stopped. I kept holding onto his arm.

"What is it?" I asked him.

He closed his eyes tightly and took long, deep breaths through an open maw. I could feel him trembling a bit, so I just held onto his paw even tighter, facing the poor dog now. "I can't lose my sister," he said, trembling even harder. I think he was trying desperately to keep his emotions in check, but it was clearly becoming too difficult. "I lost my mother, then my father... I can't lose her, too."

When Jake opened his teary eyes, he showed such intense emotion, I felt tears welling up in my own just staring at him. He looked so scared, and so incredibly sad, like he was about to break down like I had. I just held both his trembling paws tightly, and moments later, Jake and I embraced.

"I can't fucking lose her," cried the Doberman, holding me very tightly.

I rubbed his strong back with both my paws, under his hoodie, and just held on back, refusing to let go.

"God damn it," said the dog, still gripping me. He then sighed heavily and loosened up a bit, but still hugging me firmly. "I love you, Lauren," Jake told me, voice quiet and a little hoarse. "I'm so glad...I have you here with me. You're such a great friend. A great, um...boyfriend."

I smiled with my face resting against Jake's chest. "Boyfriend," he said. I think it was finally, decidedly official: I had a boyfriend, a REAL boyfriend who loved me for me, and he was a big, dumb jerk Doberman who I loved more than anything. "I love you, too, Jake," I replied quietly, giving him a gentle squeeze. "And I'm not going anywhere, no matter what. I'm yours now, and I want to be for as long as I live."

We just held each other for a moment longer, until we pulled away at last. Paw-in-paw, Jake and I continued along the barren road, glancing all around us into the forest and in the distance, trying to catch any sign of life, but of course there was none.

After maybe an hour or so, the trees started to thin and we glanced over large, smouldering fields covered in singed grass, craters, and shattered rock. It was very hilly terrain, but fortunately in the background lay the smoking, ruined city at the end of a long road, and after standing at the intersection and just staring at the city, holding our paws tight, we continued onward, northward toward the ruins. It was difficult from so far away to see which, if any, buildings had survived what was clearly an onslaught, much less any people. There didn't appear to be any emergency crews so far, so things seemed grim, though we were still at least another hour or two from the city.

The sun, amazingly, was out, and it was just as bright and hot as ever, and the striking blue sky greatly contrasted the smoking black pillars. Jake and I walked not paw-in-paw anymore, but still close together and sort of staggering toward the city, like the sun had just sapped all our strength. Jake was walking topless again, his hoodie tied around his waist, while I simply sweated heavily in my clothes. After a while, though, I finally followed Jake's example and took off my top, though instead of ruining the sleeves by tying it around my waist, I opted instead to just carry it.

Jake just looked over at me and smiled.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, then stepped closer. "You're cute, that's all."

I blushed, then held onto his arm.

"The whole city looks dead," I commented, clinging just a little bit tighter; Jake didn't seem to mind.

The Doberman nodded. "Fuck..." he said, no doubt thinking about his sister again.

"Do you think if...you know...we'll be able to find the bodies..? Give them a proper..." I could barely finish my sentence, something in my gut desperately wanting to come back up the more I thought about it. That's if there was even anything left in my gut anymore.

Jake sighed heavily. "I don't know," he said at last. "Even if we do find them, they could be so severely damaged, distinguishing one from the other could be impossible."

"Jesus," I said, for no particular reason. I suppose the thought of that, too, was stomach-turning, though frankly, thinking about the city in any capacity was stomach-turning. All of this felt like a horrible dream, one I wanted desperately to wake up from.

The closer to the city we got, the more scorched pieces of land we saw, plus bigger explosion marks and what was likely demolished jets and alien craft, and unfortunately there seemed to be far more destroyed Earth jets than alien. It just looked like scraps of metal had been strewn across the road and the rocky fields, no parts easily distinguishable. I could usually tell when it was a part of the alien ship, since their hulls were, as I saw in the daylight, made of a very different metal I couldn't begin to name. It was gold-ish, it seemed, but with an unusual reflective hue to it, showing more earthy tones like red and brown. Meanwhile the Earth jets were just some grey metal, though most pieces were blackened by what was likely a fireball when they crashed.

"I gotta find some food," I said, relinquishing Jake's arm in order to comfort my aching stomach as best I could. We were much closer to the city now, having passed by the first large chunk of rubble from a nearby building.

"I know," Jake replied. "Me too."

"Think there's any stores intact?"

Jake shook his head. "I doubt it... Looks like the aliens really meant business."

"This doesn't make any god damn sense," I said angrily, looking at what could have been houses at one point, their contents blown apart so it was barely recognizable. To our left was what looked like a small shopping plaza, ruined of course, not enough left to determine what sort of stores were there, so we might find some food. At least the road was still clear enough for us to walk along, though the pieces of destroyed buildings sometimes made quite the obstacles.

Further into the city, the roads were becoming more difficult to traverse, but still doable, and most buildings were lifeless ruins, many of them still smouldering. Busses and trucks and cars all lay about, destroyed or otherwise abandoned or immobile, and lampposts and payphones and even some parking meters with coins strews about. Most windows in most buildings were shattered, and the ones that were still standing were frighteningly still. Like on the road to get here, everything was terribly silent. How long ago had the aliens attacked?

Jake and I passed by many groups of buildings and homes that looked reasonably undamaged, and yet no signs of life presented themselves, like everyone had up and left. Had they attacked days ago? Where would everyone have gone? I would have thoughtat least some people would have remained, but there wasn't a soul. We just continued looking about, every so often jumping at a sudden noise - usually a part of a building collapsing, or some rubble tumbling down a pile - and occasionally, calling out to anybody who might hear us. Eventually, though, we stopped trying.

Hours passed and neither of us were particularly sure where we were headed. Jake knew where his sister's new apartment was, but with so much damage, directions were hard to follow, and find for that matter. But eventually we were on our way, finding a main street which took us to another main street, which then made a turn onto a smaller street, which was the street her apartment building was on. Jake walked slowly, and as I took his paw, I felt he was trembling. It was clear there wasn't much left of her new place, which became all the more evident when, past some fallen trees, only half the apartment building was left standing, the other half having been blown apart or otherwise collapsed.

"Oh god..." Jake uttered, holding a paw to his stomach. He stopped and closed his eyes tightly, growling quietly to himself and trembling heavily. "Fuck!" he suddenly spat, baring his wicked teeth. Then the dog fell unexpectedly to his knees and quietly wept, like he was trying hard to suppress it, and of course I was there for him, rubbing his back and just by his side. "God damn it," he cried, arms crossed firmly around his chest. Tears were pouring down his face and he curled up a little, and still I was there for him. For now I let the Doberman cry, with just a paw on his back and kneeling beside him, rubbing gently. Even I got a few tears just from watching the poor canine, knowing this was more than likely the exact same fate that had befallen Daniel.

Amongst the rubble laid dozens of corpses, each one completely indistinguishable, most of them half buried or severely burned. As expected, nothing stirred from within the concrete mess, and it seemed even insects weren't foolish enough to hang around. From the rubble rose what looked like a stream of dust, though it was probably just from whatever blast had destroyed the building. When I glanced around the deadly silent neighbourhood, most of the homes were far beyond repair, and only a few nearby looked like they'd somehow avoided certain catastrophe, though they did have sizable chunks missing - possibly caused by other houses exploding.

"There's no one left," cried Jake, still huddled over. "I have...no one left."

I paused for a moment to see if Jake would say more. "You have me," I said quietly, then held my free paw against his. The other was still upon his back.

Jake sniffled a little, then looked up at me. A moment later, he turned and thrust himself into my arms, which surprised me a little. But I managed to compose myself quickly enough to hold on tightly, running my pawpads through his short fur.

"Look at me... Fuck!" said Jake, apparently ashamed to be seen like this.

I just patted his back some more. "It's okay to let it all out," I said, not sure if this was actual good advice. But it seemed like a healthy thing to do, especially when he'd already been so horribly traumatized. I was assuming, of course, killing those aliens counted as trauma, as well as being blown up nearly to death and seeing tons of corpses. It was pretty traumatic for me, anyway, but I had no problems with letting my emotions out. "It's healthy," I explained, as if I knew anything at all about psychotherapy. "Just...I'm here for you."

"I know," Jake replied, then gave me a squeeze. "Thank you."

"C'mon," I said softly, preparing to stand a bit. I loosened my arms a little, but Jake didn't seem to be done yet. After another moment, though, he finally let go, and we stood up. The canine just stared at the bloody, horrid mess and held a paw to his chest, more tears running down his face. I stood nearby, just in case he needed me.

Jake then closed his eyes and straightened up a little, lips trembling and his breathing heavy and broken. He gripped a little at his chest, gripping at nothing but air, and took longer breaths, trying to compose himself, I think. "Fuck," he then sighed, clenching his fist.

"Do you wanna try to find her body..?" I asked modestly. "To memorialize her somehow?"

Jake sighed again, then after a long moment, gave me an almost unnoticeable nod. "Yeah," he said. Then together, he and I walked toward the broken mess.

"Maybe her apartment's on the other side?" I suggested as we reached the pile of rubble. I was referring to the side that hadn't totally collapsed.

"B12," said the dog. "Her apartment number..."

Fortunately, the front entrance hadn't been totally demolished, and so very carefully, Jake and I made our way into the building, breathing in dust and death, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was a bit of asbestos mixed in there, too. And although the walls and ceiling creaked as we walked into the front lobby, after crawling through the bent and broken door, we continued through the dark, broken building. Any second I thought the roof was going to come down on us, my heart racing, but we managed to make it alive to the first door we saw. Unfortunately it was a utility closet, so it did us no good at all. We progressed slowly to the next door, which said "Landlord," then but right next to it had a sign that read "Apt. 1-12," then an arrow pointing down the unlit corridor. It looked dark and scary, but Jake bravely led the way.

The dog didn't say much, instead seemed focused on finding his sister's apartment, which was obviously (and thankfully) on this side of the building, the one that wasn't destroyed. Or rather, totally destroyed. After pushing a big, heavy door out of the way, then carefully avoiding a fallen ceiling light, we made our way to the stairs, which looked in relatively good condition. Not the greatest condition, but...well I'd seen worse, anyway. In fact, there may have been more cracks and pieces missing in the stairwell of my own apartment.

Carefully, though, Jake and I made our way up the stairs, and when we were just one flight from the second floor door, the two of us instantly froze; at the same time, we both heard a horrible scraping or grinding noise from somewhere high above us, and before we could look up, an extremely loud crash and a boom, then an intense feeling of dread.

Without thinking, Jake and I burst up the stairs, the dog practically ripping the door off as the crashing noise got louder, and frighteningly closer. When he ran through the open door, I was right behind him, and just as I got through, I heard an amazing crash behind me, and what felt like a sort of shockwave throw me to the floor. When I looked back behind me, past my footpaws, the door had been torn off and a ton of dust and bits of debris were flowing into the dark, powerless corridor, rising up from the wreckage at the bottom of the stairwell.

As I just stared at the open doorway, I was breathing heavily and trembling terribly, only now realizing just how much adrenaline was pumping through my veins, for the hundredth time in the past few days.

"Holy fuck," I said for probably the thousandth time in the past few days, watching my paws shake uncontrollably. My heart was beating rapidly, my mind alert and muscles tensed, ready for anything. Jake and I, listening only to a bit of faint crumbling and creaking noises, as well as our heavy breathing, stayed perfectly still for the longest while, as if waiting for more of the building to come crashing down on us. Fortunately, it didn't happen.

When we both started to settle down a little, we finally got to our footpaws, myself still feeling incredibly shaky.

"You okay?" Jake finally asked me, taking my paw as I stood up.

"Yeah," I blushed. "I scraped my elbow, I think, but I think I'll survive. May have reopened some wounds, too..."

Jake then pulled me in, hugging me tightly and we both laughed, though nothing about this seemed particularly funny. "What the fuck are we doing in here?" he asked rhetorically, then glanced around the dusty, dim hallway, the only light pouring in from the furthest end, where half of the building was lying in ruins. He and I then slowly walked down the hall, looking for B12. In just a few short minutes, we found a door with the letters B1 on it, though there was a clear unworn spot where a 2 used to be. The canine put his paw on the handle, yet stayed perfectly still. A few crumbling noises sounded somewhere, and besides our heavy breathing, again, no signs of life. Finally, Jake opened the door, and slowly we walked in.

There were shoes strewn about the front entrance, then after walking down a short hall, we found a small kitchen to our left, which went straight through to a small area between the living room, kitchen entrance and balcony door. The view from the balcony was dismal, like the rest of the city now, and the living room was crowded with toppled boxes of books, movies, and other random junk. No furniture yet, it would seem, though presumably there were beds. On the other end of the living room was an even shorter hallway than at the entrance, with three doors: one at the very end, then two across from each other. The one on the right, I noticed, was the bathroom, which meant both of the final two doors - both shut - led to a bedroom each.

Jake started with the one across from the bathroom, opening it slowly. He paused and gasped silently, and I had to admit, my heart was pounding for him. Slowly the dog backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. When he caught my glance, he just slowly shook his head. I had seen a body in there, and though I didn't see it in great detail, it was thoroughly dead, and definitely not a Doberman. At last Jake opened the final door, not before pausing, and I had to hold onto his paw as he entered.

As soon as Jake walked in, I felt him start to tremble, and I let go of his paw. The dog walked a few more feet, slowly, and finally fell to his knees before a bloodied corpse. I saw her face, not on purpose, and it looked oddly at peace, which I had to admit comforted me somewhat; I think I was expecting anyone who had died by these alien's paws, or claws, or whatever they had, would look completely horror-struck. But as the dog slid his forearms under her limp, lifeless body, lifting her a bit and being eerily quiet, she maintained her serenity.

Suddenly Jake let out a loud sob, holding his sister tight, and I admit, I was crying a little bit, too. "I'm so sorry," said the canine. In the back of my mind I couldn't help but thinking apologizing was useless, especially now, but there was no way in hell I was going to bring it up.

"I wish...we'd been closer," cried Jake, still holding onto his sister. Despite the many deep gashes covering a good part of her face, she somehow maintained her beauty. "I love you so much, Nora, and I'm sorry I never told you that. I'm sorry we couldn't have shared our secrets, and been truly like brother and sister. Though we never hung out much...I'm still going to miss you more than anything, and far more than you'd ever have guessed. I'm sorry for all the terrible things I've said to you in the past, and about you... Oh, God, if only I had one more day, just...just to make everything right. I'm sorry, Nora..." Jake then slowly and shakily moved his sister across his lap and placed her down on the dusty mattress on the floor, still kneeling beside the bed. He bowed his head and rested both paws on her left arm, like he was performing some sort of ritual. A second later, he moved both her paws so they lay one on top of the other, upon her chest, then may have uttered some words. Finally the dog slowly got up, turning and very solemnly giving me a hug.

I eagerly hugged back. "You okay?" I asked, since he seemed oddly so.

Jake sighed through his nose. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I think so... I didn't get a chance to say goodbye....but I think she's at peace."

It didn't feel appropriate to ask, "How on earth do you know?" Instead, I just squeezed a bit tighter.

"C'mon," he said, pushing me out of her destroyed room and shutting the door behind him, "let's try to find some food."

No arguments there. I just followed Jake's lead, not knowing where he intended to eat, but with my loud, growling stomach, I hoped it was somewhere close. Much to my surprise, Jake took a right into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge door.

"We're eating here..?" I asked.

"She's not going to need her food anymore."

I was somewhat surprised to see so much stuff in the fridge, though I suppose most of it could have belonged to her roommate. "Are you sure? I mean... How are you so okay with Nora's death?"

Jake paused before answering. "I'm not 'okay' with it, Lauren. But...I just had to remember, death is a natural and inevitable part of life. We all die in different ways and at different times, but we all do die. I know she didn't hear my words; I'm not naive enough to think her soul or spirit is still out there, but when I saw how serene and peaceful she looked...I dunno. I think she knew why I didn't arrive at the bus station. Maybe she thought I was dead, too, and had accepted it. Either way..." Jake took a very long pause before continuing, as if collecting himself. "I'm going to miss her. I just wish I'd... I wish I could have told her about me. And even..." Tears began to fall from his eyes again.

"It's okay, Jake," I said, hugging him from behind. He closed the fridge door for now, and he just turned and embraced me again.

"God damn it, Lauren... Why is this so hard? We weren't even all that close."

"Well...I guess when you have regrets like that, it makes losing that person that much more difficult. Because all you do is ask yourself what it could have been like if things were different. And you wish even more you could change things, not really appreciating it until they're gone." I had no idea if I was making any sense, but my words received a warm squeeze from Jake. "I know it's hard," I said, though I didn't have any experience in this sort of loss - though I suspected Daniel had suffered the exact same fate, "but I'll bet she loved you just as much as you loved her."

While squeezing me tightly - though not uncomfortably - Jake lowered his muzzle close to my ear and quietly said, "I love you, Lauren. I know...we had a rocky start, but I love you so much..."

Despite the situation, hearing him say that made me unbelievably happy. "I love you, too, Jake. You're brave, and strong, even though you enjoy picking on small woodland animals such as myself."

Jake apparently ignored that last comment, but kissed my cheek instead. Finally he let go, and turned back around to open and rummage through the fridge. After a short while, he pulled out a couple containers of things, some fruit, then some vegetables. He tore off the lids of the containers, revealing some old pasta of some kind, and also a container of Chinese food. I was most excited for the latter.

"There isn't any power," said the dog, "so you can't heat it up any more than it is right now. But, um...can we not eat it here?"

After grabbing a couple forks, I glanced up at Jake. "Yeah, of course."

"It doesn't feel right."

That, of course, contradicted what he'd said before, but I was glad he wasn't in any denial, or anything. And so I nodded happily and we grabbed our respective containers, myself grabbing an apple to go, too. With so much in my paws, I decided it would probably be best to at least put my shirt back on, until we're back on solid ground anyway. After slipping into it quickly, we slowly made our way back out of apartment B12, then made our way carefully toward the light, where the building had collapsed. I was more worried about falling through the floor and stabbing myself with my fork, more than anything, but so far the ground was solid. Frightening as hell, but stable all the same.

Finally we came as close to the end as we felt comfortable going, half of the apartments to our left and right still on this side of the building. It looked simple enough to get down... Just a bit of a jump, then a cool, well-calculated slide down a slope of ruins and rubble. There would be no slipping, or tripping, or tumbling down the concrete and steel, no getting killed or crippled just as you hit the ground. It would be easy and smooth...

"There's probably another stairwell somewhere in that pile," I pointed out, which didn't even get a smile from the dog.

"I can probably make it," said Jake. "But I'm not sure if you can."

I frowned. "Why wouldn't I be able to?"

"Because you're shorter than I am."

A foot or two wasn't that much shorter...

"I'll go first," said the dog, and in an instant, my paw shot up toward his arm, gripping tightly.

"Wait," I said unnecessarily. "Just...be careful, okay?"

Jake kissed me on the side of the muzzle. "I'll be fine, sweetheart."

My heart jumped and grip loosened when he called me sweetheart, and I just watched admirably as the dog prepped himself, then he bolted toward the edge of the building. He jumped, and for an excruciatingly long moment, he hung in the air between the pile of rubble and the barely standing structure. But luckily, he managed to make it easily, rolling a bit -which made my heart stop for a second - but recovered quickly and with little to no injury. Okay, skunk...you can do it.

"I'll try to catch you," cried the Doberman, seeming so close and yet so horribly far away.

But I held onto my container tight, opting to put the fork in the container, and focused. "Just like in The Matrix," I told myself, though all I could see now was myself falling into the concrete below. But I shoved that thought aside and looked at Jake, who was ready to catch me. All I needed to do was run, and leap into his strong, loving arms, just like that. Simple, right? I didn't have to fear the two storey drop onto jagged, broken steel and concrete...not at all. In fact, it wouldn't be so much a fall onto, as a fall into, then rolling and smashing toward the bottom.

"I can't do it!" I cried out, breathing heavily. If I ever needed a sudden burst of adrenaline, it was right now.

"Don't talk like that, baby. I'm going to catch you."

Despite his encouraging words, I was feeling far from confident in my flying abilities. But I couldn't just stay there, either, and obviously, the stairs were out of the question. It was only six or seven feet or so...could've been worse. I could be on the fifth floor, which would make the drop perilous no matter how far away the rubble was.

"Okay, Lauren," I said to myself, stepping away from the edge. I then stood, prepared to run, focusing once more on Jake and where I wanted to be. "You can do it," I said. "Just run, and jump. Run, and jump. Run..." Suddenly, I began.

My footpaws pounded against the dirty, dusty floor as I propelled myself forward, faster and harder than I'd ever tried. Step by step, I made my way closer and closer toward the edge, until finally I was there. I let my body do most of the work, jumping more instinctively than actually thinking about it, because I knew if I consciously thought about the jump, I would somehow screw it up. But of course, as soon as I left the ground, flying toward Jake, something happened where I became shockingly aware of exactly what I was doing, and it felt as if I could no longer fly. Suddenly, my body was just a lump of deadweight, hurtling through the air like someone had thrown me, and I was hardly going to make it. My focused, concentrated face turned into that of sheer fright as I quickly realized I was falling before coming as close to the rubble pile as I wanted to be. And for a second, I just hung there, slowly falling.

A second later, though, everything sped back up, and I felt all the wind get knocked right out of me as my body slammed into the jagged concrete, clinging onto the pile's zenith with just my arms, which ached just as much as my knees, legs, ribs, and the rest of me. I cried out and felt myself start to slide downward, which scraped my stomach and chest, which included a massive, sharp pain near my bellybutton, which I immediately interpreted as my piercing getting torn out.

Before I could fall much further, though, I felt two strong paws grip tightly at my upper arms, and before I could give that two thoughts, I was surprised to feel my body quickly and weightlessly rise from the steep, painful side of the rubble. Then my face passed by that of a tooth-baring, wrinkled-nose Doberman, who quickly swung my body around to his right and plopped me down safely on what appeared to be a large chunk of the roof. My right paw then went straight down to my navel, and though it was tender and sore, my piercing was thankfully still in there.

Jake was panting as he let go, and I just sort of stood in shock, surprised at his incredible strength. "You lifted me like I weighed nothing at all!" I marvelled, placing two shaky paws on his naked chest.

Jake just wrapped his arms around me, holding me very close, and I started to blush.

"Thank you," I said, now putting my arms around him, too. Moments later, though, I realized something must have happened to my container of food, since it was no longer in my paws. More concerned with my hunger at the moment, I pushed away from Jake and looked around, seeing an open, upside-down container with a delicious assortment of Chinese food all over the place.

"God damn it!" I shouted, angrily kicking the ruined meal away.

"Hey," said Jake, holding a paw to my shoulder. "Let's worry about food after we get down from here."

With an irritated grumble and a powerful frown, Jake and I made our way down the rubble pile and onto actual solid ground, where I finally started to feel safe again. With the sun maybe an hour or two away from hiding behind the ruined city, the Doberman and I sat upon a toppled mailbox, myself watching enviously as he opened his container of food.

Before taking some, though, he held it out to me, offering me some. I smiled warmly at the Doberman, mostly expecting him to do that, but found it sweet nonetheless. With no utensils, I lifted a chunk of the sticky spaghetti with just my fingers, not yet caring for all the chucky sauce blending into my dark fur and pawpads.

Together, Jake and I ate the room-temperature spaghetti with some satisfaction, though of course it would have been ten times better warmed up, but my stomach sure wasn't complaining. In just a few minutes, we finished the whole container, which even for two people was sort of making pigs of ourselves, but we wouldn't be hungry for a while, anyway. Until morning, at least.

Finally Jake pulled out a big orange that he'd apparently taken, and quickly peeled it, splitting the fruit easily in half and giving me the larger half. The orange was delicious and surprisingly juicy, and I ate it happily.

"Thanks so much," I said, leaning against the dog.

"Think nothing of it," smiled Jake, putting an arm around me.

The sun was close to setting now, and I could feel it getting a bit colder, and soon Jake and I would have to find some sort of shelter for the night, or at least make a fire.

"You're really cute when you're angry," said Jake suddenly, scratching lightly at my side.

"Thanks," I replied sarcastically.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for the swearing type, but Christ, you do it more than I do."

"Why's that?"

"Well, because I guess I figured guys like you wouldn't be so defensive."

I frowned, which made me frown even more knowing Jake liked it. "Guys like me?"

Jake shrugged. "You know... Effeminate types. They seem like they'd just sort of roll over easily. But you're a tough little skunk."

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be offended or not. "Fuck you," I said anyway, giving the dog a squeeze.

Jake just laughed quietly through his nose. "We should make a camp or something, then we'll head out in the morning."

My muscles and body was sore from that jump, but slowly I stood, glancing around for anything we could easily burn, and a good place to burn it. Frankly, I was worried about starting a fire, then someone undesirable seeing it, like aliens or a rescue team. It wasn't that I didn't want to be rescued - not that we needed rescuing at the moment - but after today, I just wanted to be as close to Jake as I could get.

After a bit of a walk, Jake and I finally settled underneath a small, non-collapsed bridge, which I assumed were railway tracks running above. We placed down an assortment of dry grass, debris and wood, and I let Jake set it all up. Within just a few minutes, he had a good fire going, and we sat side by side, holding paws in front of the flame's comforting warmth.

"So what're we going to do now?" I asked Jake.

He shrugged. "We could try finding your friend," he suggested, though that thought made me very uncomfortable. "Get some sort of closure."

"I don't know where he lives," I said, suddenly realizing just how true that was.

"He never told you? Maybe you have it on your laptop..?"

I'd almost forgotten I had my laptop bag with me. "I could see," I said, "but even if he did tell me, how on earth are we going to find the street? I seriously doubt I'll get an Internet connection when nothing in the city has power."

Jake rubbed his chin.

"I have a pretty good idea what happened to him, anyway. No one was left alive, and if they were, they're long gone by this point. But...I'll try." With that, I swung my laptop bag around to my lap and removed the small computer, opening it up adeptly and turning it on, obviously finding no use for the power cord. Much to my surprise, it still worked, and I happily logged on. Instinctively, I tried opening Firefox, but of course nothing happened. I then went to where my MSN messages were archived, and tried my best to search for his address, starting with the first archive. I did a search for the word "address," yielding no results, then moved on the next and the next, trying various other words as well, once again finding it hopeless. I sighed in frustration, thinking furiously of what else I could do, most of my suggestions involving Internet use.

"What now?" I said.

"I don't know a whole lot about computers," admitted Jake, I think implying he didn't know what else I could try. And since I didn't know all that much either, at least about hardware and how it works, connecting to the Internet seemed that much more futile.

"Shit," I muttered, lowering my head a bit and placing my laptop aside. It was probably going to run out of power soon, anyway, since its battery life was garbage, despite being on Power Saver mode. I shut it anyway, then sighed. I was comforted at least a little bit by Jake's warm, inviting touch, which came in the form of a paw rubbing my back softly.

"I'm sorry," he said, his paw under my shirt.

It felt nice, his warm pawpads brushing through my fur, and for now I closed my eyes and tried to relax. He stopped for a moment to shuffle around, and soon both of his paws were against my back and he began to massage me a little, pushing his fingers into particular parts of my back, as if he actually knew what he was doing.

"That feels great," I said, and soon Jake had my shirt off. I was blushing, of course, as his paws ran up my naked back, I think his thumbs pressing into my sore muscles. Jake then massaged my shoulders, which was incredibly relaxing, then worked his paws downward again, massaging now around my tail and the small of my back. "You're amazing," I uttered.

"I don't really know what I'm doing," admitted the dog. I knew it.

"Well it feels good," I assured him.

Unfortunately, though, Jake eventually finished up, but I was grateful all the same. He and I then leaned back against the wall of the tunnel and just listened to the crackling fire, holding paws once more.

"You know, you never did answer my question..." Jake suddenly began.

"What question?" I asked, furrowing my brow.

"Why the hell do you wear that shit, I believe is how I phrased it."

This time I frowned. "Go to hell," I said, though we were still holding paws.

"No, I seriously want to know."

"Really," I said skeptically. By this point, I was reasonably sure Jake wasn't just out to make fun of me, but was genuinely curious.

"I want to really get to know you, Lauren. And I'm curious how all of this got started. I never knew any guys who like girls clothes."

I grunted. "I don't know why," I said. "I just...I like to. It makes me feel good."

"Well despite my earlier opinion, it does look good on you."

"Gee, thanks." I was actually more thankful than I sounded, blushing beneath my fur.

"When did you first start wearing it?" he asked, "it" no doubt meaning girls clothes.

I shrugged. "Me and my friend used to dress up when I was little. Maybe around five or six. I didn't really know what I was doing was a faux pas for boys, since I was wearing all Nicole's clothes, but I loved it all the same. And I guess it just continued until she moved away. Then I had to start buying my own. I don't really know why I've always had such an affinity for it, though. Just something I enjoy."

"So, what... You'd actually go and buy your own girls clothes? Like...in the store?" Jake seemed blown away by that concept, probably because when he was that age, he was very concerned with what other people thought of him.

"Yeah, sometimes, when I could afford it. Mostly I bought my clothes - all my clothes - at second-hand stores, more especially when I moved out on my own. That was after high school. I didn't mind... After a while, the girls working at the stores began to recognize me, and though I'm sure they thought it was strange, they were still really helpful and kind."

"Huh," was all the Doberman managed as a response.

"You know, while we're on the topic of unanswered questions, I still have one free punch."

Jake turned his head. "That's not a question."

I ignored that. "And don't think you can kiss me again to get out of it."

"So what're you saying, you want to punch me right now?"

I nodded, which made Jake laugh. "I don't want to punch you. I have to. And yes, right now."

The Doberman laughed again and removed his paw from mine, now standing up. "Well let's get it over with then."

For some reason, I was feeling incredibly excited. Then I stood up a couple feet away from the dog, focusing on his face and precisely where I wanted to punch him. And he just stood there, arms to his sides and waiting for it.

"I'm really going to do it," I said, which just made Jake smile. "I'm finally going to get you back for making fun of me..."

Like with that perilous jump I'd made earlier in the day, when the sun was still out, I had to concentrate and take deep breaths, and focus on what I was doing. A second later, I stepped forward and threw out my fist, aiming toward the dog's face. And my paw flew through the air with as much force as I could muster, though subconsciously I was probably holding back at least a little. Suddenly, my paw struck Jake clean in the side of the face, and I instantly began to regret it.

And not because it had apparently made Jake stumble to his right, cursing and holding where I'd struck him, but because I think I cut my knuckle, too, and it hurt a lot. "Ah, fuck!" I cried, holding my fist.

Jake growled a bit then looked up at me, then down to his paw, which had a few drops of blood on it. "Jesus Christ," he said, I think more shocked than anything. "You hit hard..."

"You're damn right I do!" I shouted, even though my paw and wrist was probably in more pain than Jake's stupid face.

Jake stood up straight. "We even now?"

I nodded excitedly, then approached the injured dog. Seeing easily where I'd hit him, I carefully gave his poor little injury a kiss, which made the dog smile.

"I finally did it!" I cried happily, despite my wrist. "I've never hit someone before."

The dog just rubbed the side of his maw. "Yeah, congratulations," he said unenthusiastically. "Can we relax now?"

I nodded, then we took our seats back in front of the fire, myself holding onto Jake's arm as we sat. "I'm sorry for beating you up," I said, even though I wasn't sorry at all.

Jake frowned. "You didn't beat me up."

"It was almost like getting your ass kicked by a girl."

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

"Oh, you," I said, then paused for a moment, listening to the fire. "I didn't hurt you too badly, did I?"

Jake half-smiled at me. "It's nothing I can't handle, sweetheart." He then reached over and gently moved my head to face his, and we shared a soft, delicate kiss.

"Mm..." I said, kissing the dog back. It took almost no time at all to find myself on my back once more, locked in a much more passionate kiss with my boyfriend. I blushed at that thought, still not used to the idea of having a real boyfriend.

"You know," Jake said, hovering above me with his paws down near my head, "I've, um...I've never knotted someone before. Before you, I mean."

I blushed even more. "Really?"

Jake smiled and nodded. "Most canines these days, knotting just doesn't mean anything. It's just how they get off. But...I dunno, I guess to me, it's always seemed like something more sacred. Something you do with someone truly special. Someone, you know...who was meant to be yours. Your truelove..."

My heart was pounding and bursting with joy, and I still couldn't believe it was this horribly cruel canine who was causing it. He'd been so mean to me, and yet...here we were, lying under a bridge and probably about to make love. He'd knotted with me, which not only meant a great deal to me, it meant an even greater deal to him. Back in the day, people would save their virginity for their truelove, but I guess in this day and age, that's even more antiquated than saving your knot (if you had a knot, that is). It hadn't even occurred to me that Jake found that simple act of knotting as sacred as he apparently did. Of course in retrospect, if it meant something to me, then it must have meant something to him, and yet I hadn't really considered that.

"C'mere," I said, holding my paws around the back of Jake's neck and pulling him down, kissing him deeply. Thinking about Jake's knot, plus knowing what that meant to him, and in the implications therein, had me extremely excited, and I wanted the dog now more than ever.

As we kissed, I felt Jake's paw at the back of my head, pulling me in so we could kiss as deeply as possible, our tongues sliding together constantly and our maws firmly locked. My body was grinding upward and shivering with incredible delight, and I think I was even moaning despite my busy tongue. I kept both paws on Jake's face, somewhere around the back of his jawbone, scratching gently and otherwise just making sure he stayed there, though really he had full control. Having said that, Jake's paw remained at the back of my head, and several times I felt his crotch press into mine, which was generally what caused me to moan, though the kissing in general was enough.

And while our maws were locked together, my paws slid away from Jake's face and slid down toward my pants, where I quickly undid my belt and shoved the pants downward, then instantly shot them up to Jake's belt and performed much the same action, though we both were still wearing our underwear. My paws, however, slithered over Jake's boxers and squeezed at his full, hard sheath through the soft fabric, which now produced a moan from the dog's maw.

After a bit more work, my paws still outside his boxers, I felt a particular dampness near the top, then realized quickly both what it was, and just how much there was. When his tongue pressed into mine once more, I finally slid a paw down into his shorts, squeezing his hot, warm, rock-hard sheath, pulling back as much as I could, which pleased the dog enormously. And still he and I shared that incredible kiss, myself just awkwardly stroking him, smearing his precum all over his shaft, impressed as ever at his amazing girth. And just as ever, I wanted that girth inside me.

A short while after I began stroking his great dog-meat, a particularly sharp bark from the dog broke our kiss, myself just laying back and panting heavily, as well as Jake. Our eyes met and we gazed for what felt like hours, just held in that perfect, debilitating moment until I squeezed his shaft. Jake barked again, which made me blush.

"You're barking," I said adoringly.

I think Jake was blushing, too. "I don't feel like this...very often," the dog panted. "Horny, yeah. But this...is something else."

I raised my other paw up to the back of Jake's head and lowered him down, my lips and my nose touching the outer edge of his left, cropped ear. "I want you inside me," I rasped, feeling filthy for stating it like that, but wanting it all the same.

The Doberman just growled and pushed me down. "Turn around," he said, and I did so immediately. I was then a bit startled to feel him pull my pants off me as quickly as he did, then my panties directly after. Behind me, I could hear him removing his own clothes, and he was panting heavily. "On your paws and knees," he insisted, and who was I to argue?

Obediently, I got up onto my paws and knees, pointing my rear directly at the dog, practically begging for him to take me.

Jake grabbed my tail somewhat forcefully and pulled me back, and I felt the tip of his wet, hard dog-meat press into my tailhole then slide downward as he pushed forward. A second later, my heart jumped when the dog barked at me again, this time a very deep, guttural bark, I think to imply he was in command here. I hadn't ever seen a dog like this before, in such a mood. I'd been with several dogs, horny as hell, but they never barked and growled, not like this. Those were the same dogs who never knotted me, but just wanted to finish up as quickly as possible.

The Doberman then growled again and I felt his shaft pressing into and sliding against me some more, its heat extraordinary; clearly the dog was just teasing me, wanting me to beg for it. And after a sharp, pitiful moan from my end - a noise I wasn't particularly proud of - Jake found my tailhole and poked himself in, which produced a high-pitched little sound from me. Then the next surprise: Jake, while still on his knees, leaned against my back, forearms resting along my shoulder blades while his paws dangled over my shoulders. Something about Jake right now...seemed so feral. Sex had always been a simple mechanism me and the other would easily work into, creating essentially the same noises, the same motions, and yielding the same, typical, uninteresting results. But something had come over Jake, something wild and something...ancient, perhaps. His presence was always a strong one, but in that moment, it was something else. It frightened me slightly, almost making me cower, and I couldn't explain why. My heart was racing with fear, as well as excitement, like I wanted badly to run away and find cover, but...also to squeeze out some of my foul spray, ensuring a clean getaway. I had never felt this sort of fear before.

Jake then began to drive forward, pushing open my soft tailhole and instantly making me moan, himself doing a delightful combination of both growling, groaning and barking, which continued to scare me. But for now, I was trapped, unable to escape beneath his powerful body, and could only endure whatever wonderful tortures he had in mind for me.

Quickly, the dog began to thrust harder and faster, making me cry out in more high-pitched squeals and chirps, which I wasn't sure I'd heard myself make before. My heart was racing, and I continuously had to tell myself not to spray, because for one, it would get on me, and two, more importantly, it would undoubtedly turn Jake off forever. And so I simply aided the dog by squirming and pushing my hips back into him, swearing like a sailor between every heavy breath and sharp moan.

My poor little tailhole was being pounded without mercy, my body thrown into such amazing ecstasy I could hardly stand it. The precum was oozing constantly from my erect shaft, which usually stayed at least partially limp while I was being fucked, but something in that moment had me rock-hard. Perhaps it was because I wanted Jake even harder than the first time, and even harder than our quickie by the lake. I didn't just want Jake to fuck me, though, I wanted his knot now more than ever. Before it was just a pleasant and unpleasant surprise, but now...I don't know. It just held more meaning, I suppose, especially since I knew Jake had been saving it for someone special. And not just his First Love or anything, he was saving it for his only love.

"Oooh, Jake!" I cried, grinding my head back, delighted to hear his heavy, growly breath beside my ear. A second later, our cheeks rubbed together and the dog barked loudly again, which admittedly hurt my ear a little. He was panting and groaning heavily, right in my ear so it even drowned out the sound of our blazing fire. "Fuck!" I suddenly shouted, feeling a particularly abrupt rush of pleasure strike my shaft, sending out an enormous amount of precum, though it felt as if for just a second, I had full-on climaxed.

Again and again, as rapidly as he seemed capable, that large, feral dog hammered my ass ruthlessly, his loud, frightening growls and sharp, deafening moans ringing through my ears. A moment later, though, I felt the Doberman's paws start to grip at my shoulders, as if preparing for something, and I think I knew what. I simply moaned horribly once more, practically begging for it, pushing my rear back into the dog with almost every one of his rapid thrusts.

"Uunngh, God!" I screamed, hearing my voice echoing inside this tunnel; I was being way louder than I'd never been, uninhibited by the city's vast emptiness. Plus at this point, I didn't care who the hell heard me like this, or saw me for that matter. I was in such incredible, violent ecstasy, I could barely even recall where I was. My senses were all muddled into one blazing fury originating at my tailhole, coursing up through my body but retaining its strength around my furious nethers.

Suddenly, Jake's paws gripped very tightly at my shoulders, and somehow I knew this was it. The Final Thrust. As soon as I felt the dog pulling me back into him, an intense, searing pain ripped through my body, thrusting my tailhole open as wide as ever, if not wider, and all I could hear was mad growling and feral barking right behind my head. And a second later, when the pain reached its zenith, that amazingly satisfying pop rang through my body and the dog let out a long, loud series of incredible cries, growls, groans and, of course, violent barking. He bucked and shook and dug his shaft as deep into my body as he possibly could, growl-panting heavily in my ear, and in a second, I began to feel that spectacular warmth that had just shot into me.

"Holy fuck," I panted, feeling extremely exhausted from that intense workout. I could smell his strong, canine scent all over me, coming from my rear but also radiating from all over his powerful body, plus his hot, heavy breath circling my head. I could also smell the distinct odour of skunk spooge, though I was reasonably sure I hadn't yet fully climaxed. Certainly, though, with Jake's enormous knot grinding mercilessly into my prostate, that really wouldn't be much of a stretch. So to speak...

"You're amazing, baby," said the dog, though I didn't really do anything but take it. Much to my delight, beyond the obvious, I hadn't sprayed any, either.

"What...the hell was that?" I asked, more or less still in the same position, dog still attached to me. He hadn't yet made any move to remove himself.

"I don't know," panted Jake. "Something...just came over me. I was...something beyond horny."

"No fucking kidding," I said with a laugh, heart still racing away.

"Lauren, you know what this means now, right?"

"No," I said. "What?"

"You're...You're mine."

My heart skipped a beat as those words echoed through my mind. I'd already accepted that he had marked me, but oddly now it felt that much more official. Or, perhaps, that much more real.

Jake then nuzzled the side of my face, still leaning against my back, and I happily nuzzled back.

"So we're, like...mates now?" I asked excitedly. I'd almost given up searching for a mate, realizing in high school most guys only wanted me for one thing.

Jake nipped at my ear. "My boyfriend, my mate for life..."

I began blushing intensely, heart still pounding at my chest. We nuzzled again in our warmth, until I felt one his paws leave my shoulder and trickle down toward my shaft, where his claws scraped painfully at it, myself groaning from the horribly sensitive touch.

"Are you going to cum for me, or what?" asked the dog. He then gripped my shaft and slowly stroked my slimy, messy skunk-meat.

But no sooner had the dog touched my cock, he and I both lifted our heads quickly and perked our ears, hearing a faint, very familiar sound which instantly struck fear into my heart. Despite the black, lifeless city, it seemed the aliens weren't done here.

"Is that..?" I said, inside begging to whoever was out there listening that it wasn't aliens, but the unmistakable screeching sound of their small ships was drawing nearer.

"Shit," barked Jake, and already began pulling his cock out.

I cried out in pain as his shaft quickly popped out of my bum unceremoniously, and despite the situation, I did try to contain as much of his dog-seed as I could. But while I was doing that, I was also clambering toward my pants and my shirt. I quickly threw on my pants, ignoring the panties, heart racing once more, a far greater fear having come over me. I grabbed my shirt but before I could throw it on - Jake had only managed his boxers so far - a brilliant light shone into the tunnel, blinding us.

"C'mon!" cried Jake, quickly nabbing his hoodie, and I felt him grab tightly at my wrist. In an instant he pulled me along, and before I could fully comprehend precisely what was going on, we were running from at least one group of aliens, and I didn't doubt more were on the way.

We then bolted down a street I hardly had time to notice the name of, adrenaline pumping heavily as we ran, and all I could focus on was getting away. I ran faster than I'd ever run before, that much was certain, and fortunately Jake was still holding on, which meant he wasn't leaving me behind.

Suddenly, a few more ships screamed by, and we bolted between two ruined houses. I never thought of myself as much of an athlete, but I was jumping fences and avoiding debris like one of those parkour guys that were popular a few years ago on YouTube. Never again would I be able to perform some of the amazing aerobatic feats I was exhibiting in that life-threatening moment.

Soon Jake and I were back on the street, running down the middle of the road until we turned another corner. I had no idea if the aliens were even in pursuit anymore, or if they ever were to begin with, but Jake and I didn't stop running until we came across what looked like a park, eerily abandoned. Panting heavily, we made our way toward the playground, looking all around us for any signs of movement, but saw none.

"Oh shit," I cried, falling to my knees. My body was already tired and sore from Jake's incredible workout, but now...I felt like I was about to collapse. "What the fuck..."

Jake was panting, but seemed in better shape. When I glanced up, he put on his hoodie and I had to admit, I did check out his muscles, though it was hardly the time to think about such things. Nevertheless, the dog got to his knees and hugged me, our heaving chests pressed together. I wasn't sure if I could feel his heartbeat, since mine was already pounding like a jackhammer, but we were breathing equally as heavy.

"I love you, Jake," I suddenly said, whispering it loudly. "I love you, and I want to be your mate. I'm yours, trust me. I want nothing more. I love you so much."

"Get a hold of yourself, Lauren," barked the dog, pulling away from me. He wasn't panting as heavily as I was anymore. "First of all, this isn't exactly the best time to be discussing this."

"But..."

"The only reason why you're saying it right now, like that, is because you think you're going to die."

"Hah! No fucking kidding!"

Jake then sighed. "I know this is frightening, Lauren, but you have to be strong if you hope to survive this. I saw your bravery and your strength several times in our journey so far, and even though you don't believe it, I do. Just...please, you aren't doing either of us any favours by flipping out."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said angrily, pushing further away from Jake. "Am I 'flipping out?' My god, if only I could be as calm and collected as you, I could save the fucking world!"

"Are you even listening to yourself right now?"

"Argh," I said, holding onto my head. "God damn it! I'm sorry, Jake, okay? I'm just...I haven't felt this way toward someone in...hell, I'm not sure I've ever felt this way toward someone. I've never dealt with death before, let alone with my own death. This is...it's all too much. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"Well we can rest for a while, okay?"

"Fuck," I spat, curling my arms around my chest. "How long until they find us again, hm? Christ, we can't keep running."

When I glanced up at Jake, he was staring at me - or through me - with such a serious face, like he was concentrating on something. "You're right," said the dog.

"About what?"

"We can't keep running."

"This isn't the best time to start being suicidal."

Jake shook his head. "No. I mean...we can fight them."

This time I laughed, though not because I thought he was telling an amusing joke. "Last night was the first time I've ever punched someone," I told him. "You think we can fight anybody? You're the martial artist, not me. All I do is jog every morning, that's my workout."

Jake sighed again. "If they are chasing us, do you really think they'll give up so easily? There's nowhere we can run where they won't be able to find us."

"God, this is so fucked up," I cried, paws trembling. "Why the hell is this happening? What the hell do they care if two stupid furs live? Fucking Christ..."

"It'll be okay, Lauren."

"You don't know that."

"Just be strong, okay? No matter what happens."

It felt like Jake was all ready to die, and of course that was the last thing I wanted. Unintentionally, I started to cry, but Jake was there to hold onto me. "Don't die," I said. "I don't want you to die."

Jake just sighed through his nose and rubbed my back, not saying any more. I hoped that wasn't his way of silently saying he couldn't make any promises.

"Should we keep going?" I asked, not bothering to wipe the few tears from my eyes. I still held onto my top, too, having nearly forgotten about it in my paw. I then threw it on quickly, wanting both paws free if I was forced into a fight.

"Yeah," said Jake, standing up. He held a paw out and I took it graciously. After standing up, the dog and I took off through the park, avoiding fallen trees and branches.

But shortly after we took off again, that screaming noise sounded, and I was probably a second away from totally freaking out.

In just a moment, a bunch of bright lights flashed overhead, through the trees, and though they flew by - Jake and I were running like hell by this point - they did turn and land. I couldn't count them precisely, but it looked like there was at least a few of them, if not more. But when Jake and I changed direction, more ships were there to cut us off, and sooner than I'd hoped, the aliens had us surrounded.

With lights totally around us now, I heard the noise of their hulls opening, then the noise of the aliens chatter, and I noticed them now silhouetted by their ships. Jake and I stood directly in the middle of this circle they created, the dog far more with it than I was. Fortunately, I managed to keep it together enough to keep my maw shut and not totally break down. I was breathing heavily, though, probably a few aliens away from hyperventilating. I think I was so scared, my stomach was beyond the point of turning, and miraculously, I hadn't thrown up yet.

"We're dead," I said aloud. "We're so fucking dead."

"Just stay close to me," said Jake, who looked ready for a fight.

The aliens were slowly closing in on us, and if their goal was to scare me shitless, it worked. Finally, though, they stopped. Each one was carrying a weapon, and while they all seemed to have guns strapped to their backs - possibly the backs of their armour, I wasn't sure - most of them carried melee weapons, like swords or staffs, or some such things, as well. Not that it made much difference to me.

One of the aliens stepped forward, who was carrying two swords at his sides and no gun, and began to speak in his alien gibberish, sounding something like a long series of clicks, screeches, and possibly a bit of Klingon. I really hoped he didn't want either of us to respond. Either way, he went on about something, waving one of his arms around angrily, or what I interpreted as angrily, then pointed directly at Jake, ending his speech on an aggressive note. The one alien, who I presumed the leader of this group, then did something resembling a laugh, then lowered both arms. He then waved his claw, or whatever it was, then turned around, and instantly, the others attacked.

I just stumbled back, somehow avoiding attack, but clearly the aliens were far more interested in going after Jake. Perhaps because he wasn't the one with shit in his pants - I don't mean that literally, of course. But for now all I could do was watch in horror as at least a dozen aliens came upon the Doberman, each one looking eager to kill him.

An alien then turned toward me, then a couple others, and I stepped back, holding out my arms for all the good it would do me. One suddenly came charging, and I managed to leap out of the way of his attack, but when I landed on the ground, on my stomach, partially knocking the wind out of me, I craned my head around to see another alien - or possibly the same one - about to strike, possibly for a final blow, but something managed to stop him. He just sort of stood there and sniffed the air, which also, evidently, drew the attention of the others, who Jake was busy fighting off. A second later, paws still clenching an alien staff, Jake looked over, too.

And myself, I simply lay on my stomach, tail up and my loose pants unintentionally dragged down below my bum - a fortunate side-effect of not doing up my belt and all the running and jumping I'd done - and a foul, eye-watering stench filled the cool night air. I was trembling still, and mortified beyond belief, though in retrospect, it couldn't have come at a more opportune time. Somehow, when I'd fallen, a long, shockingly accurate stream of my own personal stench had fired off and probably hit the encroaching alien, but of course the powerful, horrid odour hung in the air, effecting everyone within a ten metre radius.

Though I was beyond horrified, I was at least glad Jake had enough sense to continue fighting. He easily ripped the glowing, alien staff from his enemy's claws and twisted around, bashing one of them in the head, and just as they snapped back to reality, Jake managed to crack the skull of another. He then lifted the staff to block an attack, then kicked the attacker, only to pause for just a second to focus himself, then twisted around to deflect yet another attack.

The aliens were apparently ignoring me now, which suited me just fine, besides my stink, but I was of course worried even more for Jake's safety. He was holding them off pretty well, but he looked like he was getting tired already, probably because of all that running we did.

The dog then jabbed the end of the staff into one of their stomachs, then thrust it the other way to knock one in the face, then very artfully pushed the staff out in front of him, throwing it at the alien's face to disorient it, and when he grabbed it again, he spun it around and totally smashed its skull in. My breath, once again, and been taken away, and not because of that horrible skunk smell still staining the air. Jake moved so adeptly, it was almost hard to keep up, but a second later, after suffering what looked like just a minor injury, he cried out and managed to get away from the circle of aliens, having struck one in the side of its knee with the heel of his forepaw.

One with a sword then attacked Jake from the front, but Jake used his weapon to block the attack, then again from the side, and another, and another, looking as if he was always one step ahead of the alien. After blocking a downward thrust, Jake did something amazing with his staff where he spun it, or something to that effect, but it ended with the alien's sword flying out of his claws, landing somewhere far away from me - I was standing up now, by this point - and Jake pummelling the alien on either side of its head, possibly its ears, then a sound strike to its lower mandibles. As the alien fell, though, it was quickly replaced by one more, this one using some sort of electrified batons which created an enormous spray of sparks and a sharp crackling noise when it struck Jake across the face.

I cried out to the Doberman, but now it seemed the aliens were ignoring me completely.

Jake, however, managed to block another blow with one arm, thrusting his free paw up into the alien's elbow, snapping it in a way that its horrified scream certainly suggested it wasn't supposed to bend. Jake then held onto the broken arm tightly and with all his might, threw the alien around to smack into the on-coming body of another, knocking both down, though they were hardly out. Unfortunately, as at least ten or more aliens inched toward him, starting to surround him again, Jake was again without a weapon, having dropped the staff when that electric stick bashed him across his face.

Just then, an alien ran forward, but Jake held up his arms and blocked the attack, however it seemed for just a second too long, he was locked in that position. Plenty of time for a second alien to strike Jake in the ribs with just his fist, apparently none of them wanting to use their weapon anymore.

I cried out as Jake fell, receiving a horrible, chitinous knee to the face, then one of them - the one with the two swords - pushed past a couple excited aliens and held Jake by the neck, appearing to examine him.

The leader then spat at Jake, then threw him past a couple aliens so he hit the ground with a loud thud and rolled toward a tree. The leader alien, with the two swords, then kicked Jake in the gut, and it seemed...vengeful. This didn't look like it was meant to be a fair fight, and the leader certainly looked as if he, personally, wanted to finish Jake off. The only thing I could imagine was he knew those six aliens, or at least one of them, personally, all who had been killed back at that farmhouse, only one by me. I would have told them that, too, if they would understand me, though frankly I didn't think it would help much.

The others just stood back and watched as the leader picked Jake up by the neck and pushed him against a tree, spouting some alien words, and I heard my canine boyfriend gasping for breath. His eyes hadn't yet glazed over, but he did glance past the leader at me, somehow telling me with his gaze to run. But I shook my head, and he closed his eyes tightly, as if to beg me to get out of there, but I would do no such thing.

I looked around furiously, trembling all over and stomach turning, my dinner fortunately managing to stay down, and perked my ears when I suddenly spied that electrified baton. Since the other aliens were very much enjoying the show - the leader was now punching Jake in the gut and the face, still having him against the large oak tree - and since they were still disinclined to pay any attention to me, I managed to nab the heavy black rod, finding no way of turning it on. Maybe you had to be an alien to make their weapons work?

Suddenly, though, when I heard a particularly painful cry from Jake, my paw gripped the end of the baton and suddenly the other end lit up, small sparks shooting out as a small, crackling glow emanated from the Tesla Coil-like end.

"Stop!" I shouted angrily, and though the other aliens glanced over, the leader continued to ignore me. My eyes met Jake's once more, and feeling more focused and determined - and crazy - than ever, I held onto the electric baton tightly, face lit up with ferocity, and quickly paced toward the leader, jamming the electrified end into the back of the tall, insect-like alien, which seemed very effective in making him stop.

Jake then fell, and the alien leader was just screeching as the electricity flowed through his body, and myself, I held it there as best I could, finding it was easier when I cried out like Jake when he was fighting. Unfortunately, I wasn't paying nearly enough attention to the other aliens, and I quickly received a sound blow to the side of my head.

I fell in an instant, my vision blackened and an intense pain now pounding at my skull. I looked around at the aliens crowding around Jake and I, but my sight was so heavily blurred, I could hardly focus on what was happening. I heard noises all around me, like the aliens were in an uproar - I think their leader was down for the count, too - and when one came forward, he looked as if he'd pointed upward at another set of blinding lights setting down. I had no idea what was going on, but when I managed to focus again, an alien's ugly face was right up in mine, and he looked pissed. A second later, I saw just a blur, then complete darkness.

When I managed to open my eyes again, I was in a small, steel chamber, dim red lights on the walls, my head pounding. I groaned as I sat up, glancing around, and saw an unconscious canine close to me.

"Jake!" I cried, though it even hurt to talk. I crawled over to the poor canine, shaking him by the shoulder a little. "Wake up!" I cried, tears starting to form in my eyes. When I closed my eyes tightly, that started their gentle stream down my face, but I had to try to remain calm. I turned the dog onto his back then felt for a pulse, which relieved me greatly to discover there was one. "Jake," I said again, gently rubbing his bloody cheek.

Slowly, the Doberman opened his eyes, groaning in pain until our eyes met. "L-Lauren..." said the dog, a bit of a smile creeping onto his face. He held a paw up to my cheek and though he felt weak, he gently stroked my fur.

I just held his paw there, nuzzling his pads and crying a bit more, happy more than anything to see he was at least still alive.

"You were so brave," said the dog. "You saved me...again. Didn't I tell you you're strong?"

"I love you," I suddenly found myself saying.

"You're a sweetheart."

"Are you okay?" I asked, the concern clear in my voice.

The Doberman groaned again, and I helped him sit up, him now just leaning against the metallic wall. "I think so," he said. "Nothing's broken, I don't think. Just a lot of bruising, and some cuts."

I then found myself leaning forward, paws against Jake's shoulders and licking the open wound on his chest, one he must have gotten from the last fight.

Jake gasped slightly, and though he seemed hesitant, soon petted my back and let me continue, I think more for my sake than his own.

When I finished, with no real idea of how well I'd cleaned it, I found I was crying again, and this time I wrapped my paws around the sore Doberman and buried my face in his shoulder and neck, weeping more loudly than I meant to, but couldn't seem to stop myself. It was all coming out, just like that, I think the trauma and stress of the last day in particular finally catching up to me.

After all, I'd lost my best friend - or so I assumed - that day, as well Jake's sister who I didn't know, but felt the pain of her loss just as well as Daniel's. Not only that, but I'd been through so much in just the past week, which included possibly killing two aliens, at least one for sure. I never thought I would be capable of taking another life, and yet...ah, fuck. I was so exhausted, and so burnt out from the death and destruction, the images of those bloody, mutilated furs still burned in my mind. The only good thing that came out of this week so far was Jake, which if it wasn't for him, I'd probably be dead by now.

I gave the dog an extra tight squeeze, careful not to hurt him, then backed away. "This is too much," I cried, breathing heavily. "What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

"Do you know where we are?" asked Jake.

I shook my head. "I don't fucking know. The aliens probably took us, and are gonna do all sorts of horrible things to us before finally deciding to kill us. This is it, Jake. This is where it all ends. If we're on one of their ships, how on earth are we supposed to get away? They're what, a thousand metres off the ground?"

Jake then sighed and rested his head back. "I really...can't think about that right now," he said. "My head is killing me, and with that blow you took, I'm surprised yours isn't."

Actually, my head was killing me, but I had other things on my mind, too.

"If they wanted us dead, just dead, they would have done it. Clearly that one alien had no problem with beating the shit out of a defenceless fur, and so the rest would probably have no problem just putting bullets in our brains, or whatever projectiles they use. If we are in one of their ships, then they must want us for something, right?"

"Yeah, to dissect us."

Jake shrugged. "Maybe, but my point is, we're still alive. We still have a chance to survive, and you can't just give up on me now. And you sure as hell can't deny how brave you are."

I frowned, tears dried to my face. "I was only brave because he was going to kill you."

Jake smiled. "That's very sweet of you."

When I sat back on the metal floor, I suddenly realized I was no longer wearing pants. "What the..?" When I looked around, there was nothing there, and yet they hadn't removed my top.

"What is it?"

"They took my pants," I said, annoyed.

"Probably left them because they smelled like..." Jake didn't need to finish that sentence.

"Fuck," I said, sinking into my shoulders.

"It's okay, sweetheart," said the dog, holding a paw out to gently rub my chin. "You're a skunk. It's what you do."

"We don't want to do it," I said, frowning. "God only knows why he gave us that ability, but shit... Even skunks don't like the smell!"

Jake smiled, apparently finding it quite amusing.

"It isn't funny," I said, crossing my arms. "It fucking sucks."

"C'mere," said Jake, holding out his arms.

I glanced over with a frown, but softened up when he moved his fingers to suggest I get closer. And so I did, on my paws and knees I crawled back toward Jake.

"Sit," he said, positioning my bare bum so I'd be sitting on the floor between his legs, back against his chest.

Though I didn't feel like being particularly obedient, I sat anyway, leaning back against Jake's warm, powerful body, tail off to the side a bit. He then put his arms around me, resting both paws below my bellybutton, and I simply rested my paws against his. Together we relaxed, Jake just holding onto me lovingly, myself slowly melting into his form. I think he may have even been humming something, something very soothing, I soon closed my eyes and rested my head back, and delighted in the feel of Jake's cheek nuzzling against mine.

"We'll get through this," said Jake softly, though I didn't know how he could be so optimistic. "One way or the other," he added, "we will get through this together."

And so for a long, wonderful while, Jake and I simply sat, contemplating what was to come. I was, anyway, and though I didn't really show it, it worried me immensely. After getting knocked out, I had no idea where they'd taken me, but it sure as hell looked and felt like a cell. Was I in prison? I couldn't hear any noises or anything, so I couldn't even make any reasonable assumptions. My only guess was that we'd been taken back to one of the motherships, perhaps the one above the city I came from. But why would they imprison us instead of just killing us? Surely with all their technology and stuff, a couple insignificant furs meant nothing to them.

Of course, everything I knew about aliens - which I learned from TV, movies, and video games - told me they were likely going to probe us, examine us, and pick us apart until there was nothing left. Either that, or they would experiment on us, or use us as slaves, or something along those lines. Regardless, it didn't end well for any fur, much less one as useless to them as a skunk. Jake might have some use, being such a good fighter, but what could I do? Maybe they would be intrigued by my horrid spray... Suddenly, the thought of being hooked up to some machine while they harvest the chemicals from my body sent a rapid chill up my spine. I saw it so vividly in my mind, too... I'd be in some sort of round glass chamber floating in water - like in all alien movies - with a mask on so I could breath, and restraints on my ankles, wrists, and maybe even my neck. Meanwhile, these tiny tubes are jammed into the sides of my tailhole, pumping out the chemicals as my body produces it... I shuddered once again.

"What is it?" asked Jake, giving me a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing," I said, closing my eyes tightly. "Just thinking."

"About..?"

I sighed. "I can't stop thinking about what they're going to do to us. And to me. Why on earth would they take us, Jake? Why not just kill us and be done with it..? Christ, instead they lock us up in some stupid chamber, no doubt planning all the horrible things they want to do to us, and not one of them nearly as sexy as some people would think."

"Who would think it's sexy?"

I frowned. "I don't know; dumb people. Either way, I'm scared it's going to be something awful, and I just...I think I might prefer to die rather than be experimented on, which also scares me. Jake...I think we're fucked." I was starting to feel more anxious and agitated now, not nearly as comforted by the dog's loving arms as I was before.

"I know it's scary, baby...but you can't keep thinking about it, or you'll drive yourself crazy."

I closed my eyes tightly again. "How can I not think about it? Fuck...do you see the situation we're in? We weren't put in here by furs, that's for damn sure. For some reason the aliens took us, and now we can only wait to find out why. How the hell are you so calm?"

"There are only two ways I can think of that would calm you down," said the dog, and I was instantly intrigued. "One is meditation."

I scoffed. "I don't think I'm in the proper state of mind right now to meditate."

"That's what I figured... The other is a bit less appropriate."

It took me a moment to realize, or at least to assume, what he was talking about. "I don't know how you can even think about stuff like that at a time like this."

Suddenly, before I could stop him, Jake's paw moved down and onto my sheath, and he stroked it softly.

"Stop it!" I growled, pushing his forearm away. "I'm so not in the mood. I'm scared, Jake..."

"I know, I just...I'm not good at this. I know how to calm myself down, but with it comes to giving advice to others, I'm useless as hell."

"Just hold onto me," I said, turning my body and curling up in Jake's lap, holding one paw around his waist. "And don't let me go. Keep me warm, and keep me safe."

"I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe, Lauren." Jake spread his legs out a bit to accommodate my changed position, then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in, and I repositioned again in order to get as close to his body as I physically could.

I never really considered myself a particularly touchy-feely kind of guy, though I did enjoy a bit of cuddling. But what I wanted from Jake in that moment went beyond cuddling. I felt like under other circumstances, this would probably be considered clingy, negatively so, but considering I was essentially awaiting my death, I thought it was a bit more appropriate. After all, I never loved someone as much as I loved Jake, and though we'd only met less than a week ago, somehow I knew he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Having said that, just a few days of feeling a love that strong wasn't nearly enough for me; I wanted to continue feeling like this until the day I died, and I sure as hell didn't plan on dying at twenty-three years of age.

"God damn it, Jake," I said, burying my face into his strong chest. "It isn't fair."

"I know, sweetheart." He then kissed me on the head, and I gave him a squeeze. Not once did Jake's hold on me loosen, and my heart pounded with fear and with joy, happy not having to go through all of this alone. Though I probably would have died of starvation or something, back on the planet without him, truly I was lucky to have Jake here with me now.

I then sighed heavily and though my mind was swarming with horrible, torturous thoughts of alien experiments and plans involving only the most painful, most terrible methods I could think of, I did manage to relax at least a little. Maybe somehow Jake's meditation seeped into my brain, being so tightly attached to him, or perhaps every inch of my body was just completely worn out. Frankly, I was going with the latter. Nevertheless, I was glad to at least be in the arms of my love, given my impending doom.

I think I must have fallen asleep, because the last thing I remembered before a bit of rumbling and a bunch of aliens bursting into the chamber was being curled up peacefully against Jake, held within his strong, loving arms, my paws around his midsection while he was humming some nameless tune. And if I remembered correctly, I was physically and mentally exhausted, plus full of dread.

Unfortunately that relatively idyllic scene hadn't lasted nearly as long as I'd have liked, because the next thing I knew, I was lying barely awake on the floor with Jake, still with him close by and holding me, while aliens had come in and started shouting orders and poking us with sticks. I still couldn't figure out a word they were saying, not that I'd have expected to, but those sci-fi movies and shows were greatly exaggerated; Star Trek would lead me to believe all aliens could speak English, meanwhile there weren't any subtitles here to help me along.

Either way, I was extremely scared, though fortunately had enough control of my scent glands this time. I plastered myself against Jake while the aliens screeched, clicked and barked, throwing their arms around like they were angry, I think trying to decide what to do with us. It seemed as if it was an argument between the one with the weapons, and the one quite clearly without. It was difficult to distinguish ranks between them, though if I had to guess, they had equal or similar ranks, though were two different classes. The one with the weapons was undoubtedly military, meanwhile the one without could've been...a doctor, maybe? Or a scientist? Perhaps in charge of security of wherever we were, while the military guy wanted to do something with us. It was even more difficult to imagine these aliens as anything but killers, though...

"You," the weapon-less alien said, turning to Jake and I.

We both gasped silently, glaring up at the English-speaking alien, and though I could only speak for myself, I imagined Jake was equally as curious to know what was going on as I was.

"Get up."

The alien with the swords then screeched at us, ending with a few clicks, which received what I perceived as an irritated glance from the English speaker.

Shakily, Jake and I got up, still holding on to each other, though Jake looked far more ready for a fight than I was. He held onto me protectively, stepping forward so if they decided to attack, he could easily defend me, and no doubt himself. My paws just gripped onto his forearm tightly, and I was shaky and nervous, heart racing once again.

"Come along," said the tall, lanky alien. I realized, upon closer inspection, the two soldiers with the English speaker were significantly bigger, mostly in muscle mass. Despite their insect-like appearance, it seemed as if they didn't have an exoskeleton at all, but rather, simply had very tough, hard, thick skin. This I noticed when one of the guards sheathed his sword and inadvertently flexed his large biceps, which looked more movable than I'd expect a chitin exoskeleton to do.

A second later, one of the guards clicked and reached a claw toward us, toward me, quite aggressively. But Jake quickly grabbed his wrist and bent it back, though I had to cry out when the other guard struck him in the nose with his elbow, then the two of them slammed the dog into the metallic wall and put some sort of strange, alien handcuffs around him, then peeled his face from the wall. I, of course, backed myself away, trembling, knowing they were about to do the same to me.

And sure enough, one grabbed onto me and pushed me against the wall, easily securing my paws behind my back and pushed me and Jake out the door, shouting something in their alien tongue.

The tall alien walked ahead, turning his head slightly to speak. "You'll have to forgive the officers," said the alien. "Having not seen action for quite some time, they were a bit...excited."

"What the fuck is going on?" I cried out, struggling to free myself, but it was useless. In fact, when I moved my wrists to free myself, I got a sudden jolt, like pins poking into my skin. Needless to say, I learned quickly to stop trying to break free.

"You are aboard Valhalla, our mothership."

"Valhalla?"

"Indeed. Inspired by your Norse mythology. That is the closest you will be able to get to pronouncing our ship's name without speaking our language. That feat is impossible for you Earthlings."

"So why can you speak English?" I asked, a very curious thought. When we left what apparently was a small ship, I had to glance around at what was an impossibly large docking bay, impressed at the sheer size of it, and of course the gigantic view of the stars outside. In fact, it looked exactly like something out of Star Wars, including the multitudes of workers and soldiers mulling about, and dozens of large and small ships all over the place. When I looked up, I saw even more ships docked in what looked like an enormous, spaceship-sized shelf, like some kind of parking garage, and I couldn't help but wonder who all these ships belonged to. Were they all for military purposes? If so, then why where there so many different kinds?

After leaving the docking bay, we continued through some dark, red-lit corridors of the ship, the interior retaining much of the same looks as the exterior. Did the rest of the ship look like this? The docking bay didn't... I felt like we were walking through some old steam tunnels or something, complete with a metal grating floor, with pipes and tubes beneath. Every so often we would walk by control panels and the sort, and areas I presumed were doors, but really had no idea. A couple times we walked past some aliens, but they were working away at a control panel or doing something behind a wall, ignoring us completely. I think even the shortest alien on this ship would still be taller than Jake.

"In the two short years our child-ships were stationed above your planet," said the alien, "we learned a great deal about it and its people, including its many languages. However, English being the most commonly spoken, our focus was on it." The alien spoke with a strange accent, and I was unable to accurately describe it. It was like every accent mashed into one, except oddly understandable. "Most of our population, however, cannot speak your English."

After a few turns, the alien stopped outside of what I'd presumed was a door, except this one was different than the others. The alien pressed a button and moments later, the door opened, and I could see the gears turning and pulling back the metal panels, revealing a single chamber, which for some reason I thought looked like an elevator of sorts. We got in quickly, then one of the guards smashed its fist into one of the bottom buttons, which was unsettling.

"Where are you taking us?" Jake then asked, and only the tall alien looked over.

"For now, the holding cells. I will explain more later, and much will be revealed on its own."

"Which ship are we even on?" I asked, curious still.

But the alien just frowned at me. "I answered that question previously. Do not test my patience."

And now I frowned. "There's twelve of them," I argued. "You said that, too. Which one are we on?"

The alien then made a noise, slightly resembling a scoff, like he thought my question was stupid. "Those twelve are Valhalla's child-ships. They are the brunt of our military force, and they are also how we monitored your planet from here."

"From...here?" I was thoroughly confused.

"Valhalla is our mothership, our main ship where her child-ships dock. Do you understand?"

I stared blankly at the alien. "I think so."

"Unlike her child-ships, Valhalla is in constant orbit around Earth's moon, always out of sight of your planet and its monitoring systems. Valhalla is far greater than you realize, in every way imaginable. It is not, however, a military ship, hence she must remain out of sight."

"That doesn't seem like something you should be telling us," I pointed out.

Now the alien laughed. "You won't be going back to your planet, so it matters not how much information you receive."

Well that shut me up. I just kept my head down low, realizing just how truly hopeless this situation was. After all, if we were in space, behind the moon, there would be even less hope of escape. I imagined parachuting out of one of the so-called child-ships, or something like that, but...there was really no place to go. Everyone on this ship was my enemy, and not one of them would want to help me. Why would they? How could they? Apparently Jake and I were being brought to the holding cells, which meant he and I were prisoners.

But why? What on earth would they want with us? Perhaps collecting hostages for a possible ransom... Or my original theory, they simply wanted to use us for experiments or as slaves, though I couldn't imagine how helpful I would be as a slave. These aliens clearly didn't need anyone to farm crops, and didn't strike me as the sort who needed me to bring them drinks or to clean their homes.

Suddenly, though, as the elevator presumably rocketed downward, a brilliant light shone through what was evidently a window, and immediately I was awestruck. Below us was what looked like enormous forestlands, with what looked like ponds and wildlife. In fact, it felt like I was looking at Central Park in New York City, except far more grand. Surrounding this enormous park were impossibly tall, metal walls, with rows and rows of red lights, looking something like the side of a modern apartment building, except it completely enclosed this forest-y chamber. Plus there were walkways leading from one side to the other, and what looked like smaller elevators or lifts, and even what looked like some personal flying devices, so the aliens could get around quickly. All around, in a noticeable pattern, were long tubes looking like extremely tall, but fairly thin pillars, no doubt multitudes of other elevators. This strange landscape looked like it went on for miles, and was impossibly wide.

"What the hell is this?" I asked, still awestruck by the surprising and surreal beauty. I think I even noticed some aliens walking around, and possibly even some playing in the lake, though it was difficult to tell from so high up.

"This is the heart of Valhalla, where any of her residents congregate and connect with one another, and where the children spend a great deal of their adolescent life. There are several of them, so one is never too far. It accurately resembles our home." The tall alien seemed to look at the others down below with disdain, though I suppose I couldn't really tell.

I then turned away from the window as the tops of the trees came rapidly shooting upward, and within moments, they were gone. Much to my surprise, these rough and tough guards didn't seem to mind when I sighed through my nose and pressed my body against Jake, who I felt press back, despite the fact neither of us could use our arms.

"We're going to die on this ship," I said, even though at least one of these aliens could understand me. A small bit of tears formed in my eyes as I rested my head against Jake's chest, and he simply nuzzled the top of my head. A part of me was expecting him to tell me everything was going to be okay, but I suppose he, too, was having a hard time believing that. It's not like I'd have been relieved to hear him say it; I would just assume he was in denial, or simply trying to be nice.

After a while longer, this gut-wrenching elevator ride seeming to last forever, the lift finally stopped and the doors opened noisily. I just stared at the open door for a while, until the guards grunted and poked at us, prodding us off the lift.

"Come along, Earthlings," said the English-speaking alien. "I'm taking you to your cells."

"Why did you capture us?" I begged. "Why not just kill us now?" Jake glanced over at me.

The alien just laughed. "You will discover soon enough, Earthling."

After traversing the even rustier looking corridors, the lights dim and deep red, the lead alien stopped and pressed a few buttons on a small panel, then pulled a crank. Within seconds, another door opened, this one apparently much thicker and heavier than the elevator one, and smaller, and Jake and I were forced in, despite my blatant and rather profane objection.

It bothered me how quiet Jake was being in all this, since even after the door slammed shut, and a few seconds later more red lights flickering on, I continued to cry out and curse, slamming my fists against the metal door until they felt broken - they'd released us from our restraints before shoving us in. And though I felt reasonably sure no one was out there listening to us - we passed by very few aliens between here and the elevator - I felt compelled to make as much noise as possible until I felt Jake's strong paws grip at my shoulders.

"God damn it, Jake!" I cried, turning around rapidly. "This is fucking bullshit."

And all he managed to do was pull me in close and give me a tight, loving squeeze, and from there, I hesitate to admit, I began to cry. And not just a few tears running down my face like before. This was full on crying, complete with gross, puffy eyes and runny, snotty nose. And yet Jake endured, holding me and just rubbing my back, paws under my shirt. Thankfully the aliens hadn't taken that after stealing my pants. Several minutes later, with trembling paws I finally began to calm down, just holding onto my tall, powerful boyfriend like this was our final time together - and for all I knew, it was our final time together.

Jake still wasn't saying anything, just breathing heavily through his nose. Though I knew everything wasn't going to be okay, I still found myself wanting to hear those words, but of course they didn't come. I suppose that kept me sane, anyway, or at least realistic. No point in deluding myself into thinking we were actually going to get off this ship. All I could hope for now was a swift, painless death, though even that seemed unlikely.

"I'm cold," I then began to whine, huddled close to the dog and shivering. It was the bottom three quarters of my body that was cold, since my top still did a good job of covering half my abdomen and my chest, and it kept me marginally warm. "Why'd they have to take my dirty, smelly pants?"

I was glad to hear Jake not point out the precise reason why. He did, however, shift around, and though he only had his boxers on, he put his hoodie around my shoulders anyway.

I just gasped silently and looked up at him. "You don't have to," I said, pulling the hoodie closed more.

"You need it more than I do," said Jake, though he was probably shivering, too.

"Thank you," I said quietly, pushing my arms through the sleeves and holding onto my chest tight, like I never wanted to take it off. "You're too good to me, Jake."

Jake, behind me now and probably on his knees, held his arms around my chest and pulled me in, giving me a squeeze so tight, any more and he'd have cut off my breathing.

"I love you, Lauren," said the dog quietly, rocking a little bit. "I never thought our short journey together would have ended quite like this..."

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips tightly together, my heart feeling extraordinarily heavy as I held my paws to Jake's. I was trying not to cry again.

"So much has happened in past few days," he continued. "Never could I have predicted falling so heavily in love, especially with you. I'd always imagined my mate would be someone much more like me, but Christ...you surprised me, Lauren. I just wish we'd had more time together. More time to get to know each other. I was really hoping, at some point in time, I'd be able to cook for you, probably make you my signature dish. I wanted to take you out some time, on an actual date... Hell, I even wanted to meet your parents."

Suddenly I let out a loud, awkward noise when I breathed in through my maw, something like crying. I was trying desperately to hold it together, and not freak out or break down, but all I really wanted to do was let it all out. I never knew Jake had been pondering such things throughout our short journey together, wanting to cook for me and take me out on dates. I wondered how long he'd been thinking about it, too. Was it before that one particular campfire at the abandoned farmhouse? Or after? We fought a lot before that campfire, so much so I figured he could never feel attracted to me, much less fall in love with me. And yet here we were...

Some amount of time passed since being thrown into this alien cell, with not a single word or sound from the outside. Jake and I hadn't talked much, either, but continued to comfort each other as best we could, until I think we fell asleep. We'd had little discussions, though, explaining various small details we didn't know about each other. Jake wasn't really into video games, but I told him my favourite game of all-time was Half-Life 2. That was when I learned, like me, he loved movies. I was somewhat disappointed to learn, though, that he preferred action movies, while I preferred horror. In fact, he was surprised I liked horror, probably because he thought I was a wuss, but when the horror movies (or alien movies) start to come to life, it's a totally different story. Anyway, I was thrilled to hear he also loves just about any movie with Robert Downey Jr. in it, and went on to describe some of his favourites. Predictably, many of mine were the same.

Eventually, though, we did run out of things to say, which was when we fell asleep. Or what could have been sleep. While I couldn't speak for Jake, I had a very restless sleep, and the cold metal floor didn't help. Lack of pants didn't help, either. But when we woke, it was to the sound of a loud vacuum tube, or something, then two canisters falling heavily onto the floor. Needless to say, it scared both of us out of our exhausted daze.

"What are those?" I asked, backed against the wall.

"How would I know?"

"Rhetorical question, jerk."

Slowly, though, Jake and I worked up enough nerves to get closer to the large, metallic-looking capsules, seeing no buttons or latches or hooks or anything. Finally I picked one up, and after examining it for a while, something happened where a bit of steam shot out, and I immediately thought it was some kind of deadly gas, or a knockout gas, or something like that, but really it was just the capsule opening up. Of course, I dropped it when it made a sound, and inside was some sort of viscous, chucky substance that didn't really smell like a whole lot.

"Is it food?" Jake then asked, and somehow I managed to resist saying, "How would I know?" I sure as hell wasn't going to stick my fingers in.

Jake then reached his paw forward, and I grabbed his wrist tightly. "Don't!" I cried. "You don't know what the hell that shit is."

The dog stuck a single finger in anyway, then licked the pale substance off, then did that thing when you're tasting stuff, making an irritating noise while he was at it. "I think it's food. Probably a mixture of proteins and vitamins..."

I frowned, then reached for the other canister, managing to open it even faster than before. This time, though, I didn't let it spill onto the floor, but had it all contained in the larger half. "This is disgusting," I said, staring into it. When I glanced over to the dog, he'd picked up the first canister and tried to get as much in as he could, then began to eat it, and I could only watch in horror.

When he finally finished, having eaten it like you would a bowl of soup (minus the spoon), he wiped his maw with his forearm then glanced at me. "It's not the worst thing I've eaten," he said, which wasn't particularly encouraging. "A bit bland. Could use some salt." I think the dog was trying to be funny.

But, though every bit of my good sense was telling me not to down this gooey, chunky liquid, my clenching, grumbling stomach was screaming otherwise. And so I held the metallic bowl to my lips and after a bit of the thick, soup-like substance slipped down my throat, drinking the whole thing became frighteningly easy. After throwing the empty canister away, though, I did that same tasting thing Jake had done, then looked over at him. "You're right...could use some salt."

No sooner had I critiqued the food, though, some aliens came rushing into cell, shoving us down onto our backs with their staffs.

"Fuck off!" I snarled, which earned me a nice, hard smack across the face. It stung, but the adrenaline kept it from really hurting. I figured if this alien didn't understand English, he certainly understood the tone I'd given him. Jake, of course, remained quiet and calm. Then that tall alien entered the small chamber.

"You, skunk, are coming with me today."

I struggled beneath the soldier's foot claws. "Why? Where? What're you going to do to me?"

"All in due time, Earthling. Now get up, or these men will do it for you."

Before giving me a real chance to get up, one of the guards suddenly grabbed me by my striped shirt, pulling me up and I heard a great amount of tearing. "Hey!" I cried, "Stop it!"

Jake then managed to push himself up. "Get your paws off him!" he growled deeply, pushing forward. Though he managed to avoid being struck in the head, he wasn't able to avoid a second attack, and was felled quickly. He just groaned and looked up at me.

The guard then cried something and tore my shirt right off, and I watched as my favourite top fell in nearly two pieces to the metal floor. "You bastards!" I shouted angrily, but then received a sound punch to my gut. It didn't knock me out cold, but I was in no condition to move around on my own, much less make any sort of daring escape. I was also conscious enough to hear Jake cry out to me, then the door slam shut, and I felt my footpaws drag along the steel, grated floor as I was taken to what would no doubt be my final destination. Nothing around me gave me any sort of indication as to where they were taking me, though I trusted it was nowhere good. We passed a few aliens, and I was secretly hoping to come across some other furs, too, perhaps being literally dragged away as well, just so I'd know I wasn't totally alone in all this.

More than that, I was wondering what they would do to Jake. If they meant simply to kill us, why not do it there? Or beforehand? I could only surmise they wanted us for something, for research, maybe. Or experiments. Maybe there was something about our biology they wanted to study, and would pick me apart until there was nothing more to learn. More than Jake, they would undoubtedly be intrigued by my scent glands, and the obvious effect it'd had on their soldiers. Would they even experiment on Jake? What would make him experiment or research-worthy? He wasn't particularly remarkable, though he was a very adept fighter. Maybe they would recruit him for their army, or maybe they had a section of their army that was made up of various races... That could have been a stretch, but it seemed like a logical idea. Maybe I would suggest it, if for no other reason than to give them a reason to let Jake live. They would probably study me and my stink-producing rear, until they got everything they needed, then discard me like a harvested animal.

Finally we turned a corner, then entered a lift. Neither of the aliens spoke, including the guards, and secretly I was hoping I could at least see that breath-taking scene again with all the beautiful trees and carefree aliens. It was curious, though... Who were those aliens? Were they normal citizens like me, apart from their incredible military force? Or were they simply off duty? Why would their mothership have citizens on it, anyway? You'd think they'd just stay on their planet.

Before I could give that another thought, I was disappointed to feel the rapid lift stop, then open up, and get dragged off, before seeing the lovely park again. The lift had said something in alien before I left, and I wished I knew what it was. Perhaps a floor description, like Military Wing, or something. Laboratories, was probably more accurate, though.

I was then dragged into another room, a bright chamber now with all sorts of instruments and mechanical objects about, and glass windows on the far side, and tables with even more smaller instruments and tools. None of it looked familiar, but it had a very Experiment Labs-feel to it.

"The fuck...is this?" I asked, stomach still sore.

The tall alien ignored me and ordered the guards to throw me into the circle near the centre of the room - throwing Jake's hoodie away as they did - which was glowing red and lay beneath a rather frightening device hanging from the ceiling, with multitudes of pointy arms and probes, or what I imagined were probes. Shaking and cold and scared, and sore, the tall alien pressed a few buttons and suddenly I couldn't move my footpaws.

"H-Hey! What is this?"

Just then, two metal devices came from the floor and encased my footpaws entirely, ending just below my calf muscles. Before I could ask my question again, though, some device came up from the floor behind me and I immediately felt sharp needles jamming into my back, like it had formed to the shape of my spine. I cried out, then suddenly my paws were pulled back to my sides and outward, held somehow by these advanced-looking rings around my wrists, floating just an inch or two away from my fur. Suddenly I felt myself lift slightly off the ground, until I saw my footpaw-restraints floating at least a foot in the air, and what looked like red electricity connecting the devices to that red ring on the floor below. When I tried to escape, pushing my arms and my body forward, I felt extremely painful needles push violently into my back, as well as that same feeling all along my wrists, which was when I noticed an even greater amount of those tiny electric bolts zapping where the most pressure would have been, and I could only assume the same was happening along my spine. Needless to say, escape wouldn't be easy, especially for one who couldn't tolerate a lot of pain.

"Indeed," said the tall alien, probably smirking at me. He then walked over to the glass and slammed his fist several times against it, then shouted something in Alien. Moments later, a dark figure moved behind the glass, and I was filled with even greater dread than being dragged around the ship. But I was surprised to see a shorter alien appear from the doorway at the farthest end of the glass, through the door, and looking pretty non-threatening, though I couldn't explain why I felt that. He was holding what I imagined was a mug of coffee, though it could have been anything.

The two then conversed in Alien for a short while, I think the shorter one even rolling his eyes and back-talking the tall one, until finally the tall one gave a rather intimidating gesture to the short one -who didn't even flinch - then he and the guards left. It was just me and this mysterious short alien now, though he was still probably taller than I was.

"Did he explain why you're here?" asked the short alien. "Or even where you are?"

I shook my head. Though he somehow seemed nicer than the other aliens, I had absolutely no reason to trust him. Perhaps it was the fact he wore what appeared to be actual clothes, like the tall alien.

"You're in our Labs," he explained. His voice was much smoother and warmer than the tall alien's. "A rather large facility aboard Valhalla. This floor is dedicated to, um...to research. Alien research, rather."

"Go to hell!" I suddenly spat, surprised at myself. This was certainly no way to ensure I'd be left alive.

"Yes, well... Unfortunately neither of us have much choice in the matter. Fortunately, you've found yourself in the Biomechanics Wing of our research facility."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The alien furrowed his brow, then rubbed his chitinous chin, as if trying to find the most delicate way of putting it. "It means your body will have many uses to us. I mean...we won't take what we want from you, then kill you."

"That isn't comforting at all..." I said dreadfully.

"No, I would suspect not. I do apologize for all of this, and my vagueness."

I frowned. "Then why are you doing it?" I didn't know what "it" was, exactly, but I think it didn't particularly matter, given my current situation.

The alien then sighed. "Because the greater powers that be tell me to. Like you, I don't have a choice in the matter."

"How can you not have a choice?"

"Because the alternative is treason, and therefore death, and though I've been at this for quite some time now, I quite enjoy my life, and frankly, my research, too. I do apologize it's come to this, but I'm equally as excited to start."

"You torture helpless people," I said, though I suppose I didn't yet know what he did.

"I don't torture anybody," said the alien, placing his metal mug down. It didn't have a handle, I noticed. "If you must know, Earthling, my task since a few days ago is to further enhance our biomechanical technology using alien bodies. Until now, we could only experiment on with our own people, but in the two years we've been here, our other scientists have come to some remarkable conclusions... Did you know our physiology is strikingly similar?"

I ignored that question. "What do you mean by biomechanical technology? What...are you going to do to me?"

Just then, a group of differently dressed aliens came filing in, about five of them or so, all looking eager to get started. They just examined my naked body all around, looking quite fascinated. I thought about releasing some of my spray, but I figured it probably wouldn't help me much. I then watched as the short alien picked up Jake's sweater, examining it fairly close.

"Leave that alone!" I cried, and the alien glanced at me. The others were still quite enthralled with my body, which I somehow managed to ignore. One of them began prodding me, but I ignored that, too, for now. My face just burned with rage when I saw the short alien holding Jake's sweater, fearful of what he might do to it.

Finally, though, the alien placed it down on an empty table and gave me a strange nod, like he understood. He then picked up some instrument one of the others handed him, and started scanning my body with it. Fortunately, the others backed away for their procedure, though their eyes were still very much upon me.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

"Just taking some initial readings, that's all. Nothing to fear. At least...not yet."

I really didn't like the sound of that last part, though the way he said it, it didn't sound like a threat in the slightest amount. He sounded remorseful of it, in fact, like he already regretted what was to come. The others just spoke amongst themselves, in their language, though if they were scientists, too, it was possible they'd learned English, too.

"Do they speak English?" I decided to ask, while the short alien scanned and had one of the others record things. It amazed me how easily he could switch from English to Alien, just like that.

"Somewhat," he said, not looking up from his little device. "It's an extremely difficult language to learn, especially with our particular vocal outputs. Rather, you could never speak our language given your physiology, yet amazingly, with enough practice, we can learn to speak yours."

"You're not like that other alien," I pointed out. I found it somewhat comforting to talk to this alien, though no doubt he was soon going to do terrible things to me. "You seem...kinder, I guess, all things considered."

"He's the Head of Aknarii School of Science, so he has to be an asshole."

It surprised me, for some reason, to hear this alien even speaking our slang, too. "Aknarii?" I said, which apparently made the others laugh.

"Plural form of Aknar, which is the closest you can get to properly pronouncing our race name. The others find your accent amusing."

I frowned.

"I am an Aknar scientist, and behind me are five Aknarii. They're students. For what it's worth, with your limited capacity for speech, you may pronounce my name Vorpal."

"What, like the Vorpal sword?"

"Indeed... Of course that's not anywhere near how I would pronounce it, but it's the closest you're going to get."

"I don't get it... Why are you being so nice to me?"

Vorpal sighed again. "My first experiment on your race was a resounding failure, which saddened me for several reasons. For one, no one likes to fail, though I have to admit, the data gained from that failure is what excites me now. But...I did such horrid things to the last Earthling, against my will I might add. I tried to be as stoic as I could, but...it isn't easy, doing what I do on live subjects. Or rather, live subjects who aren't volunteering. However in the past couple days, I've made incredible strides."

I was starting to feel extremely nervous again."So what are you saying..?"

"There are several things you have to understand first, things the first experiment did not have the benefit of learning. The first being, the Aknarii funding this research - in general, our own governmental hierarchy - don't care about you Earthlings. After discovering how remarkably similar our physiology is, they were eager to start harvesting your people for experiments on bettering our own, with minimal loss to the Aknar."

I was shaking slightly now, a horrible wrenching twisting my gut around. "I don't...really understand."

"I know it isn't any consolation, but your work with us will better our people. Or rather, our mili--Never mind, that." Vorpal glanced at the others, who didn't seem to notice him stop mid-sentence.

"Wh-What..?"

Vorpal set down his little device at last and turned to a small control panel on a sort of podium to his right, or my left, and pressed a few buttons. Interestingly, the panel just looking like a glowing rectangle, but only lit up when his claw went near it, revealing all sorts of options and buttons and no doubt words I couldn't begin to decipher. I then heard the horrible machine above me start to power up, which frightened me immensely.

"My research," the short alien said to me, closer like he didn't want the others to possibly understand what he was saying, "while it started off to help those who have lost limbs or internal body parts, has mostly, if not entirely become backed by our military, which means I do research for them. I don't support our military in the slightest, and their various conquests, but I've come so far in my research... Anyway, my work has taken a drastic turn from helping those in need to not just bettering my people, but specifically, bettering our unnecessarily brutal military force."

"I...I still don't understand," I said, mind spinning. What was he going to do to me? Was he going to turn me into some kind of killing robot to send into battle? That was certainly what it sounded like...

"The vast majority of Aknarii don't even know what's going on outside their homes. They know we have a military, of course, but have no clue just how extremely powerful they are, and ruthless, for that matter. Those twelve ships circling your planet, they're warships. Here, on Valhalla, is where the bulk of our people live, blissfully unaware of what's going on right now."

"What...is going on right now?"

"As far as they know, our government is working on a project to terraform a dead planet, reviving it from an otherwise uninhabitable state for our people to live on and grow. Of course what's really happening is global extermination, which as a scientist and an Aknar, sickens me beyond belief. Our military, especially, sees your race as inferior, like savage beasts, and are therefore totally expendable. Which is what has brought you to me, as it happens. I'm not proud of what I'm going to do to you, and despite my excitement in furthering my research...I am sorry it has to fall on you."

"God damn you," I said, frowning heavily. "You don't have to fucking do this. No one's got a gun to your head."

"Not literally, no, and not right now, either. But if I revolt, or if I go public with everything I know, about what we've been doing here in our labs or to your Earth, I will be silenced before I could finish a full sentence. I have a wife, Earthling, and three children I must also think about. Do not make the mistake of assuming we are all the same heartless, merciless creatures you have no doubt encountered up until now. There are at least a billion Aknarii who reside on Valhalla, each one as ignorant to what's going on outside this ship as you no doubt are."

"I know exactly what's going on outside this ship," I snarled, moving around in my painful restraints. "It's called genocide, and frankly, you aren't a hell of a lot different than those pieces of shit who brought me here."

Vorpal gave me a wicked stare, then finally turned away. He spoke to the others in Alien, then I sensed the machine above me was moving. The others seemed to snap into some sort of action, though I couldn't tell exactly what they were going to be doing.

"Though this is more or less standard procedure," Vorpal began to explain, "I have been given explicit orders to extract from you some very specific chemicals. I can only assume you know precisely which ones I mean."

I did know, and I had no idea how they planned on extracting it. Though...I could think of one way. When I sensed some sort of probe near my rear-end, I closed my eyes tight and despite the intense blush in my face, I squeezed out as much of my horrid spray as I possibly could, feeling I was all out. Immediately after I squeezed it out of me, I smelled that eye-watering stench fill my nose, and it pleased me to see the others having an even worse time dealing with it.

I then heard Vorpal growl, covering his nose, or at least, the area of his face where a nose would logically be. "I'm not your enemy," he said beneath his sleeve. "I know it doesn't seem that way to you, but I harbour no ill feelings toward you. Quite the opposite, in fact, despite your harsh words. On that note, you have only ensured you will be seeing me at least one more time."

"Fuck you," I cried, eyes filled with tears. Not from the emotional stress, mind you, but from my own stink filling my lungs.

Vorpal immediately ordered one of his students to start cleaning up the mess, and to harvest what he could, though if I understood anything about science, that sample was probably tainted now. He probably wanted it directly from the source, which meant invading my body even more horribly than an anal probe would.

"If you think that stunt will stop us from performing any other tests on you, you are mistaken."

I shrugged as best I could, despite my restraints. "I figured I could at least make it as uncomfortable for you as it will be for me."

Oddly, I think Vorpal smiled. "Indeed, and rightfully so. Though it is not standard procedure, I think our benefactors know enough about how Earthlings react to an infinite assortment of painful stimuli where I can try to make my research upon you as comfortable as I can possibly make it."

That wasn't anywhere near as comforting as I think Vorpal wanted it to be, but if he meant what I thought he meant, I would be so drugged up, I probably wouldn't even know what was happening. Which suited me just fine, all things considered, since I didn't particularly want to know, anyway.

Then I heard movement again after the one student finished cleaning up my smelly mess, coming from the machine above me. When I glanced over to Vorpal, his claw was in front of that glowing panel and a couple holographic rings were floating around it. When he moved his claw, the rings moved with it, and soon other little glowing things came into view, like the controls were moving wherever his claw did. It was then I realized he was using it to manipulate the big, terrible probing machine above me.

"Everything you think you know about alien probing," said Vorpal, "isn't entirely true. It's extremely invasive, yes, but relatively painless. Uncomfortable, without a doubt...but there isn't a better way to get such a detailed view of your inner workings, without cutting you open. We need to know how your body works before we do anything, since no two Earthlings are exactly alike. Or Aknarii, for that matter. We will adapt our technology to suit your personal physiology, which I'm embarrassed to admit, is a relatively new discovery."

"Do you think any of that really matters to me by this point?"

"No, I suppose it doesn't."

I then felt one part of the probe brush along the fur dangling from my tail base, and though I was shaking, that cold, slick device soon poked into my tailhole, then penetrated. I knew, though ,that Vorpal didn't want to hurt me, and sure as hell didn't want to have to be doing this, and though it was very difficult to see any bright sides on this ship for me, he did suggest that everything would go that much smoother if he understood every small detail of my living body. And so rather than try to resist what was clearly inevitable, I relaxed my muscles as best I could, and allowed the damn aliens to enter my rear.

Much to my surprise, and a bit of discomfort, the cold metal did warm significantly up, and when it reached a particular point in my bum, it began to feel...soft, I suppose. It felt so hard upon entry, but when I felt it push further inside me, I realized this probe was quite malleable, too. Another thing that surprised me, which I really shouldn't admit, is that it felt...kind of good. I mean, it wasn't much different, if even less intense, than when Jake had his shaft inside my body, and hell, I'd taken his knot, too. Twice! And this thing couldn't have been any larger, if even. And so as it slid up through my body with great ease, though a bit uncomfortable the further through me it wormed, the whole experience wasn't nearly as bad as I was expecting. But of course, most who experience this no doubt try to resist, which is where the pain starts to come in.

Vorpal was talking to his students in Alien while he was doing this, pointing at various monitors and readings, having them take note. At a few points, he seemed intrigued by things he saw, though I couldn't make out any of what I saw, which wasn't much.

"How're you doing?" the alien then asked, when he finished explaining something.

"Ugh..." I muttered. "Fine... How much further does it have to go? Ah, fuck...I can still feel it moving around... I feel...ugh...full, almost."

"You seem to be doing remarkably well," commented the alien, whose arm was still moving slowly and delicately as he took whatever readings and studies he had to. "You have a very healthy body. No diseases, no damaged parts. Everything is functioning as it should be."

"So are we done?"

"Getting there. Ordinarily, at this point I'd have subjected you to multitudes of other useless tests, which would undoubtedly be conceived as torture by you, or any Earthling for that matter. But...well your words hadn't totally fallen on deaf ears, that's all."

Given the circumstances, I suppose that wasn't totally a bad thing. Though at this point, I couldn't quite remember exactly which words they were.

"I feel I must warn you, though, this is nothing compared to..."

The alien scientist really didn't need to finish that statement. While I didn't know what he meant specifically, I could only assume he meant to tell me things were going to get much worse before they got any better.

"The powers that be prefer if our readings and tests include your reactions to various amounts of pain and other stimuli, but, like I said, I won't be subjecting you to those. It isn't necessary."

Vorpal did a few more things - I had no idea what - and discussed some more, his students looking somewhat puzzled. I, on the other hand, just continued to float there while everyone stared at my exposed, vulnerable body, squirming uncomfortably as the probe-like device continued to worm around inside me. For a moment, I started to feel sick, but fortunately I managed to keep it all down.

The short alien then told one of his students something in Alien, and the young Aknar started up another control panel. A dangerous device then lowered in front of my face, and I felt a cold sweat suddenly run down my back. A second later, though, the machine spun and split into several smaller devices. The devices were pill-shaped, about an inch long and had spikes or needles at the end, and there were seven in total. Suddenly, the machine spun a bit more as it went up to the top of my head, and hung there for a moment.

"This is going to sting," commented Vorpal, and before I could object, the seven needles dug into my skull.

I cried out and shook, but fortunately the pain faded quickly. "Fuck!" I shouted, feeling those needles inside me, but unable to move at all.

"Brain activity looks normal," said the short alien, glancing up at a monitor. "Perfect."

"A-AH!" I cried, feeling a horrible movement deep inside my bowels, and I could only assume -and hope - he was finishing up. After what felt like forever, the probe did finally exit my body, and after a sharp cry, it popped right out.

"Very good," said the scientist calmly. "Ordinarily they would have us probe the outside of your body with various devices meant only to stimulate your muscles, which would inevitably cause you pain. We would inject you with chemicals to see their effects on you before starting with the main procedure; killing two birds with one stone, if you will."

"And...you're not going to?"

Vorpal sighed through his nose. He looked troubled. "I do have an obligation to, and they will be expecting results..."

"Can't you fake them?"

The alien shook his head. "The tests are recorded in real time, and sent to the Administrator after every session. They will know I didn't do the tests. I..." He appeared deep in thought again.

I sure as hell didn't mind not going through it, though it seemed only bad things were going to happen to him if he didn't. I felt a little bad, since by this point he seemed like such a normal...person. Just another sap doing his job, though a job he enjoyed. Enjoyed until the invasion started, anyway.

Vorpal then said something to the others, and though they gave each other odd looks, after he said it again, they cautiously put their things down and left. "I told them we're done, though they were expecting more tests."

"What kinds of tests?"

Vorpal sighed again, then leaned back against a table, looking at me. "These tests...they do have a purpose. Even the painful ones, they have a purpose, too, in the end."

"What purpose?"

Vorpal paused before answering. "They will test your body's ability to adapt to our technology, in essence."

I felt cold again. "What do you mean? Just...just fucking tell me what you plan to do to me."

"We want to use you to test weapons."

"Test...weapons? What kind of weapons? Why don't you fucking test them? Why the hell do you need to destroy a planet to test god damn weapons?"

Vorpal put up his claws as if to calm me, but I was far from calm. I was scared and angry, above all else. Plus the damned spikes in my head were starting to itch.

"Because they could kill you," said Vorpal aggressively, which seemed to stun me out of my rage.

"H-How? What kind of shitty weapons are these?"

"Gods, forgive me," Vorpal uttered, lowering his head. "I got into this research to help those in need. Those who need a new liver, or a new heart, or need new arms or legs. My research took me to exciting places that once seemed impossible. Now, you can replace an Aknar's limb and you would never know it! It would function perfectly, just as effectively as before, if not better, with no delay or rejection. But then the military got interested in my research, and suddenly they were backing us. Suddenly I found myself designing limbs with weapons built inside them, but we haven't had one successful test subject. The limbs, sometimes they backfire, or they leak corrosive or sometimes toxic chemicals into the subject, with extremely low survival rate.

The project was put on hold, until a couple weeks ago I was told I'd be getting more test subjects. It wasn't long after that I learned we were moving forward with the invasion, bumping it far up the timeline. There was supposed to be a warning, a compromise with your people, but someone, somewhere, decided just to attack, convincing everyone who needed to know it was a good idea. Anyway, five days ago I began testing again, this time on Earthlings, trying desperately to discover the key to successful integration."

I really had no idea how to respond to any of that. "Why...would they move the invasion forward? Why the hell would they even invade to begin with? Fuck..."

"Our government noticed your planet after centuries of us wandering the galaxy, searching for a suitable home - no one living on Valhalla now has ever known our home planet. They were desperate, anyway, to find a new home to live on, and breathe real air and eat real food. Though we do have technology to aid us in terraformation, their research has had little funding compared to others, such as weapons research... Our home was destroyed, you see, not by some cosmic calamity, but by our own people. Our government believes - they honestly believe - you Earthlings don't deserve your planet. We've been watching you for two years, though it was supposed to be ten, and they determined you, as a race, are heading toward the same fate even more rapidly than we had. If you destroy your planet, you have no means of escape. Anyway, the hypocrites that are our government decided rather than try to bargain with your people, they would simply wipe you out, and survive on Earth, avoiding the same mistakes we once made, and that you were already making."

"Fuck..." I said. "That's...a lot to take in."

"Indeed. Only small divisions of our government are actually aware of this, and of course our military. Most of our scientists don't know, working in our labs, but apparently I rank high enough to warrant informing. Or I ask enough questions, anyway. Of course, not one of the citizens know. If they found out, there would surely be an uproar. Perhaps not huge, but significant. Our people...we have very strong morals, though I realize that is hard for you to believe at this point. If they knew we were destroying billions of intelligent, sentient, and innocent lives in order to take a planet that is not rightfully ours...well, I'm certain you can understand why that will never do."

"Maybe...you need to cast the first stone? I mean...tell someone what's happening. You can do that in secret... Can't you?"

Vorpal appeared deep in thought again, no doubt pondering how it could possibly be done. "It will take some thought," he said. "In the meantime, I will release you from your restraints. There is no further need to keep you here."

"I thought you were going to make me test weapons?" I said, though I wasn't sure why I was arguing. Vorpal had fortunately started up whatever process on the larger control panel along the wall to release me from these awful restraints.

"The next step is to test your tolerance to pain, and to see how well you can handle integration. I do have ideas...new ideas that require testing and further theorizing. But for now, I don't wish to subject you to those particular tests. You have given me much to think about, both with my research and helping your plight. For now, I'm going to send you back to your cell."

Finally I was free, and the first thing I did after stumbling forward was feel my poor wrists, which were extremely sore. "Thanks," I said quietly, looking up at Vorpal. He was standing very close to me, at least a foot or so above me, which startled me. I didn't feel like asking him about what he would do with the tests he hadn't performed, but instead trusted the alien knew what he was doing.

"This goes beyond any medical or scientific practices, so I do apologize."

Before I could inquire, the scientist suddenly punched me hard in the gut, which nearly made me black out. I fell to my knees, gasping desperately for air and holding my stomach, then I felt the familiar touch of Jake's warm hoodie drape over me. A second later, Vorpal yelled something in Alien and a couple guards came in. He then said something else and pointed to me, and before I knew it, I was being dragged painfully away. I left as the short alien went into that other room behind the glass, hopefully figuring out a way to make everything better, if not for me than for the greater good.

I sort of phased in and out of consciousness along the way, because the next thing I knew, I was pulled through a door and saw Jake sitting almost naked in the corner of a small cell, knees up against his chest and in a fetal position, head down low. He didn't even look up as I was carelessly thrown into the chamber, groaning as I shifted about.

"J-Jake..?" I managed to say, looking forward.

Jake slowly looked up at me, face showing the greatest melancholy I'd ever seen in my life, even more so when he'd discovered the body of his sister. But after it started to sink in that I was back with him, I saw a great brightness join that terrible despair. "Lauren..?" he said, slowly uncurling himself.

I just groaned and dragged myself forward, heart pounding against my chest and filled with such enormous, indescribable joy. A second later, I found Jake's arms wrapped tightly around me and I think he may have even been crying, no doubt from happiness.

"Holy shit, Lauren," he said, trembling, "I thought you were dead! I thought they were going to kill you... All I could think about was how I wasn't able to save you, or even say goodbye, but fuck, you're alive! God, I love you so fucking much, baby."

I squeezed Jake back, not saying anything but I buried my nose into his shoulder and got a strong, intoxicating whiff of his incredible canine scent. "Ahh," I said aloud as I breathed out again, squeezing him even tighter. "I didn't think I was gonna see you again," I cried, still holding on. "I have so much I need to tell you..."

"What is it..?"

After a bit more cuddling, we finally sat together in the corner, being as close to one another as we possibly could, and I began to explain. Jake was surprised to learn just how vast Valhalla was, and how many aliens it held, and how many of them didn't even know what was going on outside their homes, much less the entire ship. I then, of course, started to explain what the alien plans were, and what they once were, and why this was all going on right now. It angered Jake, to say the least, but of course neither of us could strike back. In the end, we were still just two furs trapped on this ship with no way off, and no one to help us. Though I didn't mean to frighten Jake, I also explained to him as much as I could remember of what Vorpal had told me, about his experiments and what his plans were for me, not leaving out the part where there had been, so far, a one-hundred percent death rate among subjects. Of course, only a pawful of furs had been tested on, but even the aliens who'd volunteered were apparently killed by these weapons, too. But I got the impression Vorpal was going to try something new, which in my mind either increased my chance of survival, or kept it the same. I didn't tend to be the cheery, optimistic sort, but I think given my situation, I had to be.

"So what did they do to you?" I asked the dog, rubbing his muscular chest with a paw. I was still wearing his hoodie. "Anything?"

Jake shook his head. "No, at least...not yet. I was just left alone here, alone with my own thoughts, feeling, well...alone. And frightened. I thought I'd lost you, baby," then he gave me another squeeze. "And I didn't know what I was going to do. I just had to wait and see what happened, and honestly...I sort of stopped caring. Without you, I had no one left in my life, especially up here."

"Well I'm here for you now," I told the Doberman, nuzzling his chest. I didn't know how reassuring that actually was, since at any moment I could be taken away again, or so could he. If I was going to die on this ship, I would at least want to say proper goodbyes to Jake...or vice versa, if he was ever taken. Perhaps he would be next, if I was a failed experiment. It definitely sounded like Vorpal was the expert in this bioengineering thing, so perhaps taken furs were on some kind of waitlist.

When at last Jake and I glanced at each other, Jake's paw against my back a bit tighter and lowering his head, I began to lean upward, and soon our lips pressed together. He had me caught in a sweet, loving kiss, one that couldn't have lasted long enough. Soon I was up on my knees, between his legs, my paws propping myself up upon his chest, while his paws rubbed tenderly at my thin, curvy body and we continued to kiss. Our maws quickly opened and our tongues mashed together, more delicately than described, and despite our situation, I had to admit to being just a little aroused.

Our lips finally parted, though, and immediately after we began to nuzzle, soon we were back in a tight embrace. We then cuddled for a while longer, still as close to each other as we could be, until somehow Jake and I managed to doze off, though again, it was a long, restless sleep.

Morning came with another startling sound of two food canisters slamming into the floor, and I was curious where the last two had gone, or perhaps more depending on how often Jake got fed. I imagined it was only once a day, though.

Hungrily, I fiddled with my canister until it popped open and I downed the tasteless goop within seconds, tossing the container in the corner and finding myself plastered against Jake once more.

"I think they're going to take me again," I said. "No one said if they're going to do anything with you, but...I don't think they were done with me."

Jake held me tighter. "So...this could be it..?"

I felt my heart sink, having not yet thought about it so plainly. "Y-Yeah...I suppose so."

"I know our time was brief together," said the dog, "but you have no idea how happy you've made me. I just wish we'd had more time together."

"Stop," I said, my heart heavy and feeling tears start to well up. "Stop talking like I'm about to die. You don't know what'll happen. There's a chance I could live."

"It doesn't help to be delusional," said the Doberman.

I frowned, while still holding onto him tightly. "I'm not being delusional."

"If they take you again today, I seriously doubt you'll be coming back to me. I don't mean to sound so harsh, but that's a reality we both need to get into our heads. As horrible and callous as that makes me sound, you know it's true. It'll...make this process go by that much easier."

"I don't like where this conversation is going," I growled, pushing myself up away from Jake, though still fairly close. I was sitting up on my bum now, instead of leaning against the dog, with a frightened frown on my face.

"I'm sorry," shrugged Jake, "but we have to accept what's happened and what's happening to us. If we don't, it'll make it that much harder when one of us..." The dog paused for a second. "When one of us doesn't come back."

"No," I said. "I'm not going to think like that. Maybe you can shut out the pain, but I can't. I know I'm not the most positive person in the world, but right now I need that. And you aren't helping!" I then backed further away from the dog and stood up.

"Lauren," said Jake, standing up, too. "I wasn't trying to be negative, and I wasn't trying to spoil the moment."

"Yeah, well you did."

Jake sighed. "I'm trying to be realistic here. I know it hurts, and if you think it's not killing me inside, then you're wrong. I don't want to fucking lose you, but considering our situation, I don't think there's any avoiding it. This is how I cope with things, and I'm sorry it doesn't work for you, too. I'm just more of a realist than you are."

I frowned harder. "I'm not stupid, Jake. I know what's going on, and I know what's going to happen to me. You think I don't god-damn know it? Fuck... But telling myself over and over that I'm dead isn't going to make anything easier for me. I don't give a fuck if you think that's delusional."

Jake came closer and put both his paws on my shoulders, but I shook them off.

"Don't touch me," I said, arms crossed and stepping away. I kept my back to Jake.

"Lauren..."

"I don't want to fucking die, Jake. You go ahead and tell yourself I'm dead, go ahead. But don't you fucking touch me if that's all you're going to think about me."

"This isn't any easier for me, either," argued the dog, raising his voice a bit. "I don't want you to fucking die, either, but telling yourself there's a chance to live sure as hell isn't going to help you in the end. One way or the other, Lauren, we're both going to die on this ship, and that's that."

I didn't say anything else to the dog, really not wanting to think about my death. Deep down, I knew it was coming eventually, and yet a part of me seemed to also think there was a chance. I honestly believed that, though Jake clearly didn't share that opinion. His way of dealing with death was apparently telling himself how inevitable it is, and coming to terms with mortality, but like I told him, that didn't work for me. Of course I knew death was inevitable, but...I couldn't explain why I thought escape would be possible. Maybe it was Vorpal's new theories, or the fact he second-guessed his compliance on this ship that gave me that small glimmer of hope. Either way, it seemed clear Jake wasn't going to share that opinion, no matter what I said.

I think what bothered me most of all was just how easily Jake was willing to accept my death. If that works for him, all the power to him, but...it was me he was talking about. ME! Maybe I was just being selfish, since clearly we both had to deal with this situation somehow, but though I understood what was happening, all I wanted to hear was him say everything would be okay. It sounded more like he was giving up instead, rather than rising up and protecting me, the one he loves, from the clutches of these evil aliens. It was somewhat less dramatic than that, but still...all I could imagine was the Aknar guards coming in, and Jake just blowing me a kiss goodbye, which horrified me. What about a daring escape, defeating the guards when they enter and running for our lives! But instead, he tells me we're trapped on the ship, and death will come to us very soon, whether we like it or not.

Finally I sighed once more. I knew Jake loved me, and I knew he cared about me, and I think he believed telling me this was being helpful, but it wasn't in the slightest. I was glad this attitude helped him, but it just made me angry and upset.

A moment later, though, before either of us could say much more, our cell door slid open and two big soldiers piled in. Giving neither of us any time to defend ourselves - we were both surprised, frankly - I had already been struck across the head then jabbed with one of those damned electrified batons, knocking me out cold. As I fell, though, I heard Jake cry out, calling my name and quite possibly yelling, "No!" though there was an incredible ringing in my ears, too. I heard a bit of scuffling, some words spoken in Alien, Jake crying out some more, then a loud thump right next to me. It was soon after that I blacked out.

When I awoke, it was to a great pain in my spine, which, after my senses came back to me, made me cry out. I was back in that machine again, this time with that tall alien standing in front of me, who I think was the head of the Science Department, or whatever Vorpal had told me. The Director, he was quite possibly referred to as.

"Wha..?" I said in a daze, head pounding. Seconds later, though, I remembered the short-lived fight, then what I imagined was Jake falling next to me. "What did you do to Jake?" I snarled, struggling a little to free myself, though the restraints made sure I didn't want to try again.

"He's fine," said the Director. "Didn't put up much of a fight, though he did try."

I guess Jake was willing to defend me, though apparently it was as pointless as he seemed to imply it was.

"I don't know what it is you said to Vorpal, but apparently it was enough make him shirk some of his duties."

"Your tests are pointless," I growled, quickly realizing exactly what was going on here. "Furs feel pain in the exact same ways Aknar do. You're just a sick sadist."

The Director laughed. "Don't pretend to understand the science behind our technology."

"Fuck you!"

The tall alien just sighed. "Since our mutual friend decided not to perform half the tests required before the experiments, I will have to do them for him. And trust me, I won't be nearly as forgiving."

I struggled a bit more, despite the intense, sharp pain in my spine and my wrists, which began to climb up my arms and expand around my ribs the further I struggled. Soon, though, I had to stop, the pain far to unbearable. Though I'd never been shot before, I felt the pain was akin to gunshot wounds. "Damn you," I said, shaking a little from the pain alone, which lingered even after I relaxed.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Earthling, you probably won't survive these tests. If you do, you will be the first Earthling to have done so, and we will proceed from there. Most Aknarii cannot survive, and these tests were modelled around their physiology. We are a much heartier race than your fragile species, which is what makes you ideal test subjects. Anything you can survive, we surely can as well."

I felt like egging the scientist on further, but after leaving Jake the way I had, I really wanted to go back to see him, if even for a moment. I should have let him hold me, since the last thing I said to him was not to touch me. To feel his soft lips against mine once more, and to be held in his strong, protective embrace... Despite his fatalist attitude, I think Jake would have defended me to his last breath, especially had we not been caught so entirely off guard. If only he was here now...I could at least say goodbye. This was everything I feared, leaving him and this world in such a way. Fuck...

The Director, who was alone in this test chamber, then started up the machine, using both claws to manipulate the thing above me. He moved away from the control panel, the holographic controls still following along, pressing various buttons and moving other things around, all the while the probing machine above me seemed to become more active.

Suddenly, the alien pressed a few more buttons, then waved his arm up to his side, twisted his whole claw around like turning a dial, placed a few holographic rings in place like setting options, then poked a finger in the air toward me, like dotting particular points on my body. Seconds later, I understood what he was doing.

A few long tubes suddenly came out of nowhere, from above, and in the spots the Director had indicated, their pointed ends just hovered, a small red laser marking me from each one. Two, at least, hovered on either side of my head, the ends pinting right below my collarbone, while several more slithered down silently along my stomach, two just below my chest, still on either side, one pointed right at my navel, and what looked like at least eight more going down along my hips and legs. I had no reason to doubt there were even more hovering all around me, along my back and at my sides, which I obviously couldn't see. My heart was racing, anyway, as they hovered there, each one threatening to stab me at any second. The Director was probably just lining them up perfectly, and probably toying with me as well. A freezing cold sweat began to pour down my back with every agonizing second these snake-like tubes and plugs hovered there, just a couple inches in front of my fur. Moments later, the tall alien moved his finger tips inward so they all touched, and those frightening, thick needles attacked me.

All of the tubes stabbed at least an inch into my body all at once, which of course caused me to cry out sharply in pain and wrench my body forward, causing even more pain. I snarled and thrashed about for a while longer, feeling a great pain all along my spine, in my shoulders, collarbone, ribs and navel, plus on various spots all around my legs, my bum, and even up my neck toward the back of my skull. I could feel the needles inside me, thick as they were, digging around in my flesh as I thrashed about. I was shaking when I finally calmed down, a dull, constant pain emanating from each plug. Breathing heavily, I hung in this terrifying machine, attached to it like when Neo first woke from the Matrix. Except no one was going to save me from my mechanical bonds.

"What the fuck...is all this?" I managed to ask.

"Preparation," answered the scientist. "If you must know, I'm going to bombard your body with a wide array of chemicals and radiation, plus other stimulants, some of which tend to seep into the host when the prosthetics are attached - even Aknarii cannot survive these prosthetics. Something to do with the various radioactive elements inside our weapons which helps regulate both power input and output. Anyway, if you do survive this treatment, it will, in theory, ensure your body will not reject our technology. We also use a metal not found naturally on your Earth, which tends to gives off a faint radiation our people have long since adapted to, plus I have no doubt your body would choose to reject it anyway. Some of these chemicals...while they won't physically change your DNA, they will distort how your body perceives foreign objects, specifically our foreign objects, which in essence will allow our metal to survive easily inside you. That will be the first step... So far with the Earthlings we have tested on, their bodies attacked and destroyed the chemicals we injected, then proceeded to destroy the rest of their bodies, too. Mortally so."

"Then why give me the chemicals? Why not change the formula?"

The Director laughed. "Though it is not nearly as simple as you make it sound, Earthling, we have done precisely that. I would have preferred that Vorpal had directly overseen the development of the new mutagen, but his passion of course lies in engineering. He has done wonderful things here, and if you are lucky enough to survive this, you will have the honour of testing some of his newest designs."

"He...designs weapons?"

"Not exactly. The weapons are already designed, he simply _re_designs them for prosthetic purposes. If you are fortunate enough to live, you will see what I mean."

I just stared at the Director for a short while with contempt. "So what the hell are you waiting for, then?"

Suddenly, as if on cue, Vorpal entered the test chamber from outside - not from the room behind the glass - and stood speechless at myself and his superior. He then frowned noticeably and walked angrily forward, shouting something in Alien. The two then argued for a while, Vorpal appearing far more agitated than the Director, until the tall alien glanced at me, then back to Vorpal.

"Please," said the Director, "we should not hide anything from our test subject, plus it's just polite."

Vorpal scoffed. "My test subject," he said, still sounding angry. I was glad they planned on including me in their argument as well. "Now answer my question."

"Ignoring the fact I am the Director of all Science Departments aboard Valhalla, which therefore does make him my test subject, I am making sure your experiments are thorough and complete. And for some reason far beyond my grasp, as difficult as it may be for you or anyone to believe, I do not care to see the consequences that would surely follow your disobedience. Especially since I would inevitably be the one administering said consequences. Do you understand?"

Vorpal was still frowning, holding onto a metal, high-tech-looking canister about the size of a can of Monster. Was this the new mutagen? Finally, though, Vorpal nodded, however reluctant it was. He placed the canister down on the table.

"So this is it? What are your initial thoughts?"

Vorpal glanced at me, then back to his superior. He then said something in Alien, and though I was far from understanding the long series of grunts, clicks and screeches, I listened as closely as I could.

The Director sighed.

I think the short alien may have growled slightly, looking back at me, then turning away, not even looking at the other. He simply stared at the ominous canister. "As per usual, there are never any guarantees, but my students think they may have solved it, especially based on our initial readings of the Earthling's physiology."

"My name's Lauren!" I shouted, growing tired of being called Earthling. "And you'd better damn well call me that when you're injecting your fucking poison into my veins."

Vorpal sighed this time, placing both claws on the table, apparently hesitant to do anything with it. "This new formula," he continued, and given his inflection, I gathered it wasn't good news. My heart sunk a little and my stomach turned. "It will undoubtedly cause excruciating pain, like the previous formulas."

I flattened my ears, though I'd pretty much guessed that's where he was going with this. "C-Can't you give me something to dull the pain?"

Vorpal glanced up at the Director, and of course the Director shook his head. "We have no way of knowing what sort of reaction the new mutagen will have with any of our anaesthetics, nor our painkillers. You know as well as anyone in this department what sort of effects it's had in the past."

Things were certainly not looking up for me, and I suddenly found myself thinking about Jake. Even when Vorpal looked me in the eyes and apologized sincerely, I still wondered what had happened with him. Was he still in the cell? Was he...thinking about our little fight? I started to, of course, and I felt horrible about it. Even in our situation, the dog and I managed to fight about something, and if this wonderful chemical cocktail killed me, it would be the last memory either of us had of each other. Jake, it seemed, would be next after me, or so I assumed, so perhaps the only solace I could find here would be that my death could possibly help prevent Jake's. After all, it was clear these aliens gathered every bit of information they possibly could, and if I died with a new mutagen inside me, I would at least be able to provide what I imagined would be invaluable info. Why did Jake and I have to fight?

My thoughts then snapped back to the test chamber as I heard what sounded like a particular canister being loaded into some part of the multi-armed machine above me, then the sound of a few young aliens loudly opening the door and coming in, excited to see me hanging there helplessly.

"Fuck you!" I shouted at one of them, who was glancing curiously at my sheath, and had even been so brazen as to juggle my balls within his claws to get a better look. Evidently, this was new to them. Perhaps theirs were internal... Either way, I think somehow he understood not my words, but certainly their meaning, and quickly backed away. "Don't you fucking touch me," I growled, frowning malevolently at them, or as best I could, anyway.

The younger-looking aliens were swarming around, though there were only a few of them, each one busy pulling out items and placing them upon a tray, or moving other things around or reading charts or measurements or my heart rate, or some such thing that hardly mattered to me by this point. Every second I watched these damn Aknarii buzz around, the closer I came to death. And if by some divine miracle not death, then a pain far greater than I'd ever felt, and surely death would be preferred.

One of the aliens then glanced at me, then turned to Vorpal and asked something in Alien. Vorpal glanced over as well, then after a moment of pondering, pointed toward my right arm. The alien nodded and approached me, then after just a second, very unceremoniously tore the tube from my forearm, which made me cry out and curse, then let it retract like a vacuum cleaner cord. He then held a claw out, palm up, and said a few grunt-clicks, until someone handed him a strange metal ring, about a half-inch wide and a half-inch deep - I wasn't paying enough attention to see who'd given it to him.

The alien then looked down at the control panel, placed a claw on it then waved his arm so my right extended forward in front of me, which produced a surprised, "Hey!" from me. I just watched intently as he took that ring and opened it, seeing no hinges or anything, then struggled briefly as he closed it around my upper arm, a bit more than three-quarters of the way down, maybe an inch or two above my elbow joint.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked, though no one who could speak English was around to answer my question.

The alien then dutifully tapped the ring on the side, which made a symbol or something light up, then while holding it in place with one claw, used his finger to slide along the outside, starting where that red, glowing symbol had appeared. This made a band of red electric bolts start striking at my skin and fur from all the way around the inside of the half-inch wide ring, which hurt a lot, that is until the ring somehow tightened around my arm securely, cutting off a great deal of circulation. It pinched a bit, and was far more uncomfortable than it was painful, but more uncomfortable than that was not knowing exactly what this ring was for, and of course the knowledge that something was going to be happening gut-wrenchingly soon. I think my face more than clearly projected my terror to the aliens, and it angered me further that no one seemed to care.

No one except Vorpal, of course, though I was still pissed at him for going through with all of this anyway, instead of standing up for himself and, more importantly, for me.

"What's one more death, right?" I said to Vorpal, who was standing maybe six feet away, examining some monitor. "You're exterminating all Earthlings, anyway, so what's another?"

I then noticed the Director whip his head over to his unfortunate colleague. "I told you all of this in confidence," he said, looking quite displeased.

Vorpal looked up, unimpressed. "What possible damage do you think Lauren can cause, knowing any of that?"

The Director scoffed. "If you weren't so damn good at what you do, I would have terminated you years ago and had you teaching grade-school science to the younglings."

"I fucking hate you!" I cried, despite its futility. Despite the bustling, I think I heard Vorpal sigh.

"You shouldn't be so attached to your test subjects," said the Director. "Especially aliens."

Vorpal didn't say anything in response, but for some reason I got the feeling they'd discussed this before, perhaps with Vorpal's first Earthling subject. It would have undoubtedly ended with Vorpal claiming every intelligent life-form has the right to live, however alien or primitive they are. Though I got this impression through body language alone, I had absolutely no reason to doubt my assessment. Of course at this point, it really, really didn't matter, since my death seemed imminent.

With machines starting to whir, move, and make noise, Vorpal and the Director paying much more attention now and getting into what were probably their proper places, I began recalling particular points in my life that I either cherished or regretted, and sometimes both. I certainly cherished the first time I'd ever kissed a boy - when I was eleven years old, in the hallway at school when we should have been getting to class - and yet regretted the bloody nose I'd received afterwards. I then began to recall when I'd lost my virginity, way back in high school, grade nine. The guy wasn't even gay...

As the whirring machines started getting louder - I could feel the tubes vibrating inside my flesh now - my life suddenly flashed forward to the love my life, my first boyfriend and mate named Jake. And as soon as his image popped into my mind, I almost immediately began to cry. In that moment, he was probably the most important thing that'd ever happened to me in my life, everything else having just been a mediocre prelude to this story. Pushing aside the fact he and I had argued before this very moment, the past five days or so had without a doubt been the most wonderful I'd ever experienced, and in the advent of being killed, all I could think about was my loving Doberman. I wanted him with me so bad, as selfish as that may have been, just so I could have the chance to properly say goodbye, and to tell him one final time how much I loved him, and just how important he was to me.

But before I would ever, ever get that chance, Vorpal looked up at me with regret, sadness, and a great reluctance to what he was about to do. He put his left claw down on the clear panel, those holographic controls appearing even half way up his forearm, and then with four glowing rings at the tips of each finger, he held his claw there, as if waiting for his cue. He and I shared a glance, and though my anger had totally vanished by now, it had definitely been replaced completely by pure fear and terror. "May your gods have mercy on our people," said the alien, then turned his claw like twisting a knob.

Just a couple seconds after Vorpal lowered his arm, every one of those uncomfortable plugs stabbing into my flesh felt as if they'd been heated up, like they had become red hot and were burning and searing into my flesh, minus the horrid smells.

I just gasped slightly as I concentrated on the intense pain, having no real idea of what was in store for me. I figured if I concentrated enough, I could somehow prepare myself mentally for any amount of pain, even for a moment thinking this wasn't so bad. But as the chemicals began to work their way through my bloodstream - and wherever else they were headed - the pain started to increase exponentially.

"Ah..." I started, but when I began to feel the searing pain spreading, I relinquished any and all inhibitions I had left. Even right down to my fingertips, my whole body burned like my fur had been lit on fire, and I cried out in such horrible agony, I think even these younger, eager scientists began to feel bad. Perhaps no one had had a reaction this strong before, whose screams didn't sound anywhere near as authentically blood-curdling as mine did.

I thrashed about madly in my restraints, my muscles aflame and my body, limbs and fingers feeling like they were about to snap from being contorted in such an unnatural, pain-induced way. Unfortunately, the restraints, rather than being masked or hidden by the fiery chemicals now almost completely covering my whole body, only served increase the violent agony in those areas, which made me scream and cry out even harder. Unfortunately, there wasn't nearly enough to calm me down enough to stop myself from thrashing about, trying desperately to free myself from both these restrains and the tubes, but of course to no avail.

When finally my body felt beyond exhausted, I continued to shake uncontrollably, my face feeling like it'd been sunburned a thousand times, and the rest of me like I was encased in a glowing, red-hot suit of medieval armour. I cried and cried until my voice was hoarse, and even then I couldn't stop myself from making a constant array of sounds, each one as horrid as the last.

Interestingly, I even began to feel some of the chemicals begin to seep into my right arm, which had been otherwise okay, but I suppose save bursting, the chemicals had to go somewhere. Though that one ring was wrapped tightly around my arm, clearly it wasn't enough to stop the mutagen entirely, and I began to think perhaps they simply wanted to contain as much inside my body as they could, not caring too terribly if some of it leaked into my blocked-off sections.

As predicted, I began to have serious desires for death. I couldn't even begin to accurately describe the amount of powerful, violent pain that was currently coursing through almost every inch of my body, and of course I was totally helpless. I groaned and cried out for something, anything, really, to relieve the pain, but all the scientists did was just stand around and watch me, probably relishing the amount of data they would no doubt receive from all of this. And yet when I managed somehow to glance up at Vorpal, managing somehow to see past the intense agony ripping through my eyes, he seemed more shocked than anything. Was...this it?

Did I survive?

My body still burned all over from the inside out, and yet I got the distinct feeling the worst was over. The tubes were no longer vibrating, like they'd pumped every last drop of the mutagen inside me, and all that was left was to see if my body would reject the mutagen, or adapt to it. It was impossible for me to know, but the fact even the Director looked fairly surprised made me think I'd lasted longer than anyone else before me, though I sure as hell wished I hadn't.

"P-Please," I miraculously managed to say, moving my jaw and my tongue agonizingly, even breathing having become a painful task. "Give me...something..." I couldn't say much more than that, and I was forced to close my burning eyes. The pain was still sharp and excruciating, and my body continued to tremble, my breathing harder.

"Stop!" I suddenly heard, and it sounded like the Director. When I opened my eyes, he was holding Vorpal back, but the short alien pushed him away and suddenly sunk some object into my chest, which hurt, and it felt like he'd injected me with something. They all just watched me again, as if to see how I'd react to this now.

I then began to feel a particular warmth at my chest, a warmth that somehow covered the incredible pain that occupied every other part of me, then it slowly started to spread, and at last I felt some form of relief. "Thank you," I sighed, though it felt like it would still be a couple minutes for what I assumed was the painkiller to spread out toward my extremities.

"You had better damn well hope that doesn't kill him," I heard the Director say, though so far, so good.

"If it does, we have enough data, and will have gained enough, to make sure we're that much closer to positive results."

"Yes, but we have positive results now."

For whatever reason, the aliens let me agonize for a while longer, until enough of the painkiller, or whatever it was Vorpal had given me, had gone through my system, and the terrible pain, while still present, was dulled significantly.

I then heard one of the younger aliens ask something in Alien, though unfortunately Vorpal answered in the same language. "We will be starting the operation shortly," Vorpal said, I think for my benefit.

"Operation..?" I asked wearily. I started to feel kind of light-headed, and if I didn't know any better, I'd swear that painkiller was making me feel a little bit high, too.

After Vorpal gave me another dose of that painkiller, this time in the arm that had been tied off, I quickly realized why that alien had strapped that thing to me: they were going to operate on my arm. To what capacity, I didn't know, but frankly, any amount was too much. But as I had to keep reminding myself, I didn't have a choice in the matter.

The aliens all swarmed busily around me, I suppose preparing me for surgery, and as my restrains moved around, moving me around, it was impossible to tell just which way I was pointing, especially since those painkillers were now running around at full force. My mind whirled as I spun a bit, and soon my right arm felt even more secure than before. I made all sorts of odd and interesting noises, barely struggling now to free myself.

Suddenly, though, I began to laugh as I heard and felt a buzzing, looking down to see what was tickling me so. I then just watched as my black fur quickly began fall to the floor, as one of the aliens started shaving around my elbow, which made me scream out in high-pitched horror. I then just laughed when I noticed one of the aliens jump, and quickly they finished up; they hadn't taken off a lot, as I imagined their instruments could be extremely precise.

Some round, doughnut-shaped machine, like an incredibly miniaturized CAT scanner, was then slipped up my arm, only about six inches wide, and placed at the spot where they'd shaved. The doughnut-shaped machine hovered a couple inches above the bare area, and I couldn't really tell what was propping it up. It could have been more of that strange, red lightning, I couldn't properly see, but after one of the aliens pushed a few buttons and activated something, I felt the sharp sting of an instrument slicing through my skin.

It didn't hurt, oddly enough, and yet I could feel the laser or the blade cutting into me, slicing through my flesh, fat and muscle. This I could feel happening all around my arm, feeling the instrument cut just above my elbow in the back, up around the hard, bulbous joint, then down a bit into the bit of my elbow, cutting below the end of my bicep muscles. It amazed me how obviously awake I was, though I was hardly all together with it, and yet barely felt a bit of pain. Again, it was an odd sensation feeling the tools, in whatever form they were, cutting through my body, like someone was poking around inside me, and yet it was totally painless.

Moments later, though, when the doughnut-shaped machine finished slicing through my muscles, one of the aliens removed it, which for some reason made me vocally express my disappointment - maybe in my delusional state, I was just so captivated by the slowly spinning and blinking diodes. Either way, one of the aliens - it was difficult to distinguish between them now - then used some more tools to totally separate the flesh of my forearm with the flesh of my upper arm, which made a horrible noise you might expect to hear when sticking your paw into a bowl full of wet noodles. I then suddenly cried out, which startled the surgeon, then I laughed some more.

I could feel his delicate tools inside me, scraping and pushing and doing something to what I assumed were my bones, perhaps cutting away the connective tissue, or some such thing. I then began to ponder if they'd managed to locate my funny bone, and if it was every bit as amusing as I, at the time, thought it was, and I think it unsettled some of the others to hear me laughing like a maniac as the surgeon painstakingly cut even further into my arm.

I had no idea how long I'd been in there for, being operated upon, but it'd felt like at least an hour, though in my current state, I barely had a grip on reality, much less an accurate concept of time. Nevertheless, it shocked me for a moment to see my arm begin to move away from my body, upon a tray of some sort, then be placed into a box. "Hey!" I cried deliriously, feeling somewhat sick to the stomach, though I had no real idea of what was actually happening. Then Vorpal appeared near me, and I cried, "Where are you taking me?" then cried out some more, making extremely strange noises. "I'm missing the rest of my party!" I hadn't experimented with a whole ton of drugs in my life, though I was certain whatever painkillers they'd given me, people would pay a fortune for it back on Earth.

"Did you really have to give him so much?" I heard the Director say.

"A-a-a-and...action!" I suddenly cried.

Vorpal shrugged. "I couldn't bear to see him in such terrible pain."

The Director scoffed. "We're all going to need some by the end of this."

Ignoring that, Vorpal said something in Alien, then was handed a tray full of tools and devices. Very delicately, he grabbed one and began doing something to my bones, which I could feel but not feel, and the smell of burnt flesh and possibly burnt bone lifted through the air, which made me gag. It almost brought me back to my senses, but not quite. I had no idea, or any concept of, what Vorpal was doing to me, but it started to feel like he was digging into my exposed muscles, sifting around and doing something, none of which I was able to look at. But whatever it was this alien was doing, I could sure as hell feel it, even reaching up beyond that band, which I didn't even notice had been moved up.

After what felt like a very long time, possibly several hours, Vorpal having gone through multitudes of tools, I felt something start to affix to the exposed flesh of my upper arm, seeming to fit into place with ease, like it was covering up the exposed bone. I heard more drilling, felt a bit of slicing and various other operations I could hardly describe, then a particular tightness around my bone. I was shaking a bit as I tried my hardest to concentrate on the feelings in my arm, though concentrating on anything at that point was next to impossible. After some more drilling, Vorpal finally stood up, wiped his brow, then reached over to grab something else, then was at it again.

Another long while later, myself crying, laughing and screaming periodically, I heard some metal pieces sliding against other metal pieces, and unsettlingly, I could feel them sliding together, too. I felt a few sharp pinches, a few drilling noises, and some more things being inserted into the metallic fixture on the base of my upper arm, totally clueless as to what they were doing. I then felt and heard something else begin to slide into the metallic cap, but I also felt it sliding up my arm, too, which was incredibly uncomfortable; painless, but I could still feel the pressure of these objects moving through my flesh and bone. I let out a long growl-like groan, then screamed, but settled down once more, in just enough time to feel several more pushing into my body.

At long last, though, after a bit more drilling noises, Vorpal seemed just about done, as he stood up and wiped his brow once more, reaching over to a tray only to put something down.

The Director stepped forward, staring at my arm.

"The operations appears to be a success," stated Vorpal. "We won't know for sure until we test him, but he's showing no signs of rejection. It would appear the mutagen has adapted his body to our alloy, but it can take at least a week to start seeing signs of rejection."

"Then I suggest we test him out now."

Vorpal nodded, then said something in Alien to one of his colleagues, and one of the others immediately grabbed the white box on the desk and moved it into that room behind the glass. I presumed it was Vorpal's office or something, but I suppose it didn't really matter.

Moments later, the Director began to power down the machine, each of these plugs popping out of me with a disturbingly loud sucking noise, then I finally lowered to the ground. When at last the restraints released me, I immediately felt extremely weak and collapsed, though I was fortunately caught by the younger aliens. I was just glad they didn't call in those guards, because they would have undoubtedly roughed me up before taking me anywhere.

Soon enough, though, they placed my body down onto a gurney of some kind, though of course it was futuristic and floating. What amazed me was how primitive some of their corridors looked, and yet in the science section of the ship, everything was very high-tech and new. I suppose since that was where a ton of their resources went, it made sense.

Finally we were off, and I got a great view of the red lights above me as I was transported elsewhere, irritated by the rubbernecking Aknarii we passed by. But in general, I just yelled at them in some incomprehensible language.

At last we arrived in some large chamber with all sorts of tables on either side of me, and though I couldn't really concentrate on what was lying on top of them, I could only presume with the great amount of fur I was seeing, they were dead furs, each one probably having died with sadness and fear in their hearts. Poor bastards...

We then entered another smaller chamber, this one with an assortment of things lined up along a long table near the door, and myself, I was held tightly by some invisible force against the gurney, but was tilted upward so I was almost standing, but clearly they didn't want me to escape. In front of me was what looked like a pole with a hoop at the end, like an over-sized microphone stand, but I got the distinct feeling it wasn't for an over-sized microphone. When I finally focused enough to look around the chamber, all I saw was a plain, long room much like a racquetball court, except with all sorts of signs and things painted along the walls, plus what was probably dozens of monitoring devices, too.

After getting a good look at this chamber, perhaps a testing chamber for weapons, some indescribable animal, possibly alien, was placed at the farthest end of the chamber, in front of big red X, then what appeared to be an Aknar arm was strapped to the pole in front of me. The end of the arm, facing me, had a metal attachment and dozens of little holes and tubes and so forth, which was a very curious sight. More curious was the strange markings written on it, possibly an Aknar word.

"What..? Is that my arm? Wha...you do to my arm?" I asked, still fairly out of it. The aliens appeared to be ignoring me.

One of them, possibly Vorpal, then grabbed my right arm and forced it forward, despite my yelling and thrashing, pushing my upper arm into this alien arm. I then felt metal sliding against metal one more, then a sharp, acute pain as the two halves slid together, which vanished in an instant. I just shook for a moment, starting at this arm stuck to the pole, then began to move my wrist.

Shockingly - and I think it shocked the others, too - the alien claw at the end of this arm moved around in circles, in the same motion I wanted it to go. I then closed the claws into a fist, then uncurled the fingers, then again into a fist, moving and waving it around. I could see the muscles of the alien arm moving, and could feel the pressure against the strap holding the arm there, like it was now a living part of me, despite the fact it was probably entirely mechanical.

"Holy shit," I said aloud, astonished at what was happening, having only a faint understanding of what was going on.

"Incredible," said the Director, who seemed most impressed. "But...this is only half the test."

"Huh?" I said, spinning my head around to finally look at the aliens.

One of them had grabbed a long rod, not unlike one of those electrified batons, though much more scientific looking, and touched the end to a particular point on the alien arm. A second later, he shocked me, which made me jump, my heart race, and of course I cried out loudly, screaming for way longer than was really necessary. When I finally calmed down, though, I gasped at what the arm had become. In front of me was now what looked like a crazy alien weapon, about as long as the alien forearm was - which was much longer than my own forearm - but somehow appeared thicker, and it was definitely radiating some kind of heat, and I could hear a gentle whirring from somewhere within. I could feel it, too, like the whole arm was now vibrating a bit. A moment later, I thrashed about, trying to free myself from this arm, but I was apparently stuck there, attached to the weapon.

One of the aliens then attached two large, thick black wires as thick as my wrist to somewhere on the weapon, then the other pressed the electric rod against my metallic elbow now, shocking me.

When I cried out, an enormous, hot blast suddenly blew out of the end of the weapon-arm, blowing my head and fur back a bit, and when I finally opened my eyes again, the animal at the far end of the room was blown to gory pieces.

"Holy fuck!" I cried, trembling and not wanting to fire it again. "Holy fuck, holy fuck..." I think my mind had officially been blown. I wanted out, but the alien scientists just seemed intent on making me fire off more.

They detached the arm and unplugged it, which apparently made it revert back to normal, then threw up yet another alien arm, this one with a different set of symbols on it, which I gathered was a word written in their alphabet. Then I was put through the same test, having them shock me in particular places and forcing me to fire a weapon on various dead objects. One weapon, the second one, shot out more like a bolt of lightning, while the next one shot actual projectiles. I continued to test these weapons for them, totally against my will, with resounding success. Each one seemed to be energy-based, though a few shot what I probably mistook as bullets.

After a while, I think they finally finished up, placing the last of the alien arms down on a table. Vorpal then approached me, appearing very pleased. I, on the other hand, was tired, sore, totally high, and very cold and sweaty. I was shaking and scared, my mind still whirling and I could barely comprehend what was happening anymore. I knew what'd been going on, but I was only half there, especially now after being shocked two dozen times. I groaned and cried out, turning my head away from Vorpal, not particularly wanting to see him, or anyone. I then groaned again.

"No more," I whined. "I can't...I want..." I then closed my eyes again, exhausted beyond belief.

"I know it will bring you no comfort," said Vorpal, "but our tests were a complete success, far beyond what we thought was possible. And I am sorry you had to go through with this, for what it's worth."

"I want to see Jake," I cried, still trembling. I think I was starting to come off the painkillers, since my right arm was incredibly sore, and in my joints I still felt an incredible throbbing, as well as in other parts of my body.

Vorpal then looked over at the Director, who sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "But he isn't done yet. And neither are you. Bring the subject back to his cell, then continue your work on the mutagen. I want blood samples and tissue samples, and for god's sake, some of that horrid stink."

The short alien frowned, but nodded. After a moment, I was released from my shackles and a guard entered to carry me back to my cell, Vorpal following along. My head was still spinning, as evidenced by the crazy lights all around me, which of course weren't crazy at all. Finally we stopped outside what I assumed was my cell door, but the scientist stopped the guard from entering, then told him something in Alien. The guard continued to hold onto me, but clearly he was waiting for Vorpal to do something.

"You were brilliant today," said Vorpal, speaking quietly. "Though you may not believe it...I do have a plan for you, one that will either get me killed, or imprisoned for life. With any luck, neither, as long as I can do it right. But for now, you need to be strong, and just hang in there, okay? I have lots of work to do."

Though his words were incredibly cryptic at the time, I did eventually come to understand. For now, though, he left me with that, then had the guard carelessly toss me into my cell, which hurt when I hit the metal floor - the painkillers were most definitely worn off by that point. Much to my surprise, though, somewhere between the weapons testing chamber and here, Vorpal had grabbed Jake's hoodie and brought it along, tossing it in with me. When the door finally closed behind me, I slowly raised my head and looked around for Jake, who was in his spot in the corner, head resting against his forearms, which were resting upon his knees, and he appeared to be sleeping.

"Jake..?" I said quietly, my voice hoarse from all the screaming and yelling I'd been doing. "What's wrong? I'm...I'm back..!" I shakily moved myself forward, but fell onto my side when I tried to use my right forearm, which of course was missing. "A-ah!" I cried, glancing at the missing appendage. "Holy fuck!" I cried, only now truly realizing everything that'd happened to me. "Jesus Christ!"

All my cursing seemed to be enough to shake Jake out of his daze, and he glanced over at me with tear-crusted eyes. "Lauren..?" he said wearily, then glanced at my arm, now looking shocked.

I pushed myself onto my bum and cried out, staring at the metal thing at the end of my arm, trying futilely to get as far from it as I could, crying out in a panic. "My arm!" I shouted. "Jesus fuck... Jake, they took my fucking arm!"

Jake then hurriedly crawled toward me, reaching me just as I began to cry loudly, and I was so happy to feel his strong arms wrap around me once again. I just wrapped one and a half back around him, too, squeezing as tightly as I could and crying even harder.

"It's okay, sweetie," said Jake, rubbing my back. "Everything will be fine. You... You're still alive, Lauren, which is what's important."

We continued to hug for a long, long while, and I just let it all out, crying about...well, about everything at this point. Not just losing half my arm, but also all the testing, all the indescribable pain I've been put through, both physical and emotional, and of course what these aliens were doing to my planet. In my mind Earth was totally helpless, and yet...perhaps they would stand a chance somehow. After all, this whole mess started when a destroyed Aknarii fighter crashed into the side of the Greyhound. No doubt, though, the twelve major cities were turned into rubble, its people either killed or taken, but...perhaps we were putting up a better fight than I imagined. Perhaps there still may have been a home to return to... Though it was impossible to imagine how that could ever be.

Finally I began to settle down a bit, letting out a long sigh and giving Jake one final hug. When he pulled his warm, plush hoodie back over my shoulders, I pulled it around my chest then slipped my arms into the sleeves, and it made my heart sink a little when I didn't feel my right paw pop out at the end. I sighed, and felt myself tremble a bit. I looked over at Jake, and it was clear he was struggling with what to say just now.

"Jake..?"

He looked at me with a very sad look on his face. "Yeah?"

Modestly, I said, "Hold me..."

Jake didn't smile, but he calmly crawled forward and got behind me, between my back and the wall. Leaning against the cold metal, the Doberman put his paws around my waist and pulled me in close, and I quickly snuggled up against him, raising my head a bit so we could nuzzle, then I felt his paws lock in front of my belly, holding me there.

"I'm sorry about before," Jake said quietly. I'd almost forgotten we'd even had a fight. "I was...scared, which I don't admit lightly."

"Don't worry about it," I told the dog, snuggling back. "I was scared, too."

"I'm not going to let them take you again, Lauren. No matter what, I'm going to protect you."

"You'll get yourself killed trying to protect me," I told him.

Jake then gave me a squeeze.

"I know we had a fight before about this...but I don't think you should fight them, not for me. It isn't worth it. I mean...I'm certain they won't kill me, at least, not right away. For now, I'm too important to them."

"Important?" Jake seemed skeptical.

"They took my arm...because they needed to test some new technology. A technology that was designed for their injured soldiers, but they couldn't get it to work right; all their test subjects kept getting killed. So far, I'm the first successful test subject, and I don't think they know why. As far as they know, my physiology is the exact same as the last bunch of furs they murdered trying to perfect their weapons."

"You're testing weapons?" Jake asked surprised, his paws unlocking from around my belly. I couldn't tell if he was angry, worried, or anxious.

"They had me testing them, and I guess everything went off without a hitch. They're, like...prosthetic arms, except they're actually guns. But they look like real arms, before they turn into guns."

"That's fucking crazy," Jake remarked, rubbing my belly a bit. Somehow I could tell he was thinking something.

"I was on some serious painkillers, though, so a lot of the testing they did is still pretty hazy."

"Shit... What was that like, anyway? What did they do to you?"

"It was...horrible. They started off with injecting some mutagen into me, which was supposed to somehow adapt my body to the materials they'd be sticking inside me, but that..." I had to stop for a moment, just to collect myself again. "That was one of the worst pains I have ever felt in my entire life. You know when you burn yourself on a pan, that intense, freezing pain you feel in that one spot? Well it was like that all over my entire body, constant and with no relief."

Jake began squeezing me tightly again. Being a professional chef, I imagined Jake knew very well what a bad burn feels like.

"Anyway, Vorpal, who's sorta the lead scientist with all this weapon-arm stuff, gave me a large dosage of some sort of alien painkiller, which is where my memory starts to get a bit more hazy. It almost made the pain go entirely away."

"Is that where all these little bumps came from?" asked the dog, running his pawpads through my fur, up along my stomach and down my legs, and he probably noticed them earlier all along my back, too.

"Yeah... I was hooked up to their machine like some kind of monster. It was really scary, Jake, but I kept thinking about you. I wanted to see you again, so I just sorta kept thinking about that, you know?"

Jake continued holding me, gently rubbing his fingers through my black fur. "What do you think they'll do to you next time?"

I shuddered to think about it. "I can't imagine. Probably test me some more. I dunno... Maybe they'll harvest every part of my body to figure out what made it work. But for now, I'm incredibly valuable to them. At least for now. Once they figure out how they can adapt these weapons to their own kind, I guess I'm sorta useless."

"And I suppose they'll need other furs to continue testing on...hm?"

I shifted slightly to my side, so my right shoulder was against Jake's chest, then I put my left arm around him, running my fingers up along his ribs and down again. "Other furs like you, you mean?"

Jake sighed, but didn't say anything. He seemed strangely focused, though, like he was thinking something. A plan, perhaps, though I couldn't imagine what sort of plan he was coming up with. Escape, I presumed, but specifically, I had no idea what he could be thinking specifically. If we could escape, how would we know where we were going? And if we even did manage to find our way to the docking bay, which ship would we take? More importantly, how the hell would we take it? Despite Jake's long list of impressive skills, I somehow doubted flying was one of them, much less flying alien spacecrafts.

That night, or what I felt was night, Jake and I fell asleep together once more, sleeping very close to one another. Several times, though, I was startled to discover my right arm was missing, and I was pressing down on the floor with shockingly strong metal rods, which didn't bend in the slightest. Though I tried to get used to the idea of having only three-quarters of my arms left, it was difficult, especially since I continuously had the phantom limb thing going on. I continued to attempt putting that arm around Jake, but shying away somewhat when I felt nothing latch onto his side. I did eventually fall asleep, though, since I was extremely exhausted, but when I woke up, I hardly felt better.

We woke, of course, again to the sound of our food slamming into the floor with a loud bang. We both ate it hungrily, not even phased by its horrid consistency and bland taste anymore. After finishing - I discovered, as it turns out, a small hole opens up in the corner, just the size to stick the canister into, and it apparently gets sucked away - Jake and I simply sat together, having nothing else to do, keeping each other warm.

Jake's fur was short, but still somewhat soft, meanwhile mine was longer, stinky and a little bit matted in most areas. In fact, my beautiful white stripes weren't really white anymore, but instead this sort of brownish dirty colour, one that I desperately wanted washed out, but of course didn't have that option. I knew Aknarii could smell, since they had such a strong reaction to my spray, but I guess they weren't bothered by my sweaty, dirty body odour. It usually isn't that bad, by the way, in fact, I usually smell very nice. Not all that girly, but definitely not that terrible "men's smell." You know, that active, sportsman deodorant smell that I can't stand. It's more flowery than that, but not so flowery that it smells as if I'm wearing perfume. It's just...nice. (For the record, though, there is a picture of a lady on the box, very much enjoying herself).

Amazingly, Jake still smelled like his old canine self, which I continued to love. He didn't seem to sniff me very much, and I hoped it wasn't because of my spray smell, which I'd done more times that week that I had in my entire life before it. Twice, as it happens, which frankly is too many for me. Anyway, the dog still smelled like a dog, and though I wasn't exactly sniffing his butt, I sure as hell enjoyed burying my nose into his shoulder. Oh, and rubbing his back. His muscular back.

"You have such an amazing body," I pointed out for some reason.

"Think so?" he responded, as if he didn't know it.

I frowned. "Don't even pretend."

Jake smiled, which I was happy to see considering our situation. "I love you, skunk."

I glanced up at him. "Love you, too, dog." I sounded much ruder calling him by his species than he did calling me by mine. But despite that, I leaned up - I was leaning against his chest again, sitting between his legs and on the floor - pressing the last paw I had against his chest, and once I balanced myself, slowly rubbed it downward.

Jake just looked and smiled at me, leaning back against the wall.

I could feel his heart beating inside his chest, which I think increased when my paw waved to the side, still brushing through his fur as my pawpads carefully glided over his right nipple, teasing it a bit before hopping off his perfect chest and taking a bumpy ride down his abs. I finally stopped my paw at the top of his boxers, and though he and I were still imprisoned within Valhalla, my little claws still nipped at the waistband.

"You after something?" asked the dog cheekily.

"What could you possibly have that I'd want?" My paw then slid over his soft boxers and I grabbed onto his sheath ,which was already half hard by this point. I then began to rub his cock from behind his sheath, which of course was behind his boxers. I smiled when the dog groaned quietly, leaning his head back against the wall.

"Mm, Lauren," he moaned softly. "You don't need to do this."

I then nodded. "I want to."

"What if they...AH! What if they come in..?"

I was still rubbing his sheath, still outside his boxers. "Then they'll have to pry us apart with crowbars." My paw then found its way through the waistband, and I was thrilled as much as Jake was to feel his warm sheath beneath my paw, which I delighted in squeezing tightly. The dog even made a noise, something like a whimpering noise, when I touched it, and within moments, he'd removed his sexy little shorts completely and I was rubbing his half-empty sheath excitedly. Admittedly, my paw was on half his cock, which had long since been poking out of its fuzzy holder, while at the same time I took my time in pulling said holder back. A short while later, I eagerly licked his cock-tip, which made the dog cry.

"Oooh, fuck, Lauren..." he muttered, one of his strong paws now against my head. "You're too fucking good to me."

"If we get off of here," I said, looking up at him, "and we manage to find some place to live, I'm gonna give you blowjobs any time you want me to, no matter what."

Jake just laughed.

I then placed my paw firmly against his chest, glaring at him through wide eyes. "I'll even let you film it," I said. "Put it online, and we'll be famous!"

Jake then laughed even harder. "I'm not sure I'd like to be famous for that. Man, what's gotten into you? I like it..."

I wasn't sure if either of us felt this was a particularly appropriate time to be doing anything even remotely sexual, but I think for the time being, for our own sakes, we had to ignore that and just go with it.

"I just...you know...I think we need this. In case..."

Jake smiled at me, then put a paw on my cheek, drawing me in. Seconds later, after just gazing into his beautiful, dark eyes, I closed mine and we kissed. It was a wonderful kiss, one I knew I had to cherish. After it ended, though, for as lovely as it was, there was something else I wanted to press my lips and tongue against, and so I slowly lowered my head, guided by Jake's eager paw.

But no sooner had I gone down on the canine's shaft, the door to our cell slid violently open, and we both cried out as a couple aliens poured in.

"Fuck!" I snarled, the guard pulling me up.

But as quickly as they came, Jake was up and punching the guard in the face, pulling me aside then standing between us and the Director. Jake snarled, and from my angle I could just barely see the excited tip of his cock, as full as ever.

"Please," said the Director, holding out his claw to tell his armed guard to stand down. The guard lowered his weapon - it was a hand-held version, I think, of one of the ones I'd tested. "If you haven't figured it out by this point, we aren't going to kill the skunk. Not yet, anyway, and until that time, dog, you can rest assured that your lover will be safe."

"Safe?" Jake spat. "Fuck you."

"Indeed. You'll be thrilled to know, skunk, Vorpal has requested we keep the dog alive for now, and to not perform any tests on him. Ordinarily I wouldn't hesitate to decline, but because we have made such astonishing progress with you, it is a request I can easily grant. Do not force me to rescind my decision."

Jake still appeared furious, and though I was happy he was taking a far more defensive stance than when we'd talked the previous day, I feared it was in our best interest to cooperate for now.

"Jake..?" I said, placing my left paw on his shoulder. "It's like I told you..."

He then looked at me, then back to the guard, then back at me again. "Fuck..." he said quietly, then turned and gave me a hug. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

Despite that, though, Jake let me go, and for now I knew he would live, and Jake knew I would live. And that would have to do. For the time being, anyway.

I followed the Director quickly through the corridors, trying my best to make a mental note of where things were, and where some passages may have led. I also noted where elevators were, and tried my best to note which buttons to press, though if I was inside a lift, I had no clue what to do there. Either way, in my head I was trying to design a map, of sorts, since I was far more conscious than previous trips through these halls.

Thankfully, we got into a lift, and no doubt took it to the science building, or sector, or whatever sort of structure it was - I couldn't imagine what Valhalla looked like from the outside, not to mention its sheer size. I did note which panel the Director used, though I couldn't tell what any of the buttons meant, much less where they went. Nevertheless, when we stepped out into the hallways again, I quickly recognized it as the science section, since the walls were smooth, bright, and sterile.

After walking through the wide, long corridors, passing various aliens all working away at something, we finally entered through a door which had what looked like warnings on them, though they were alien warnings. I figured anything with a skull - albeit, an Aknar skull - and alarming red symbols all over it was probably something to avoid.

When the Director and I walked into the room, I was surprised to see at least five other Aknarii standing about with Vorpal, who may have been wearing a face of irritation, or at least discomfort. Upon a table next to these aliens - all male, I presumed, though I didn't know if I'd be able to tell the difference between male and female - were either more of the same, or the exact same alien prosthetics they'd forced me to test the day previous, and I instantly wondered why these others would want to watch that.

The others, they didn't wear what the others seemed to wear around the Science Department. In fact, though it was only vaguely clothes-like, I would say what they wore was more akin to business suits on Earth. They didn't look like business suits, but they were dressed the same and looked a bit more formal. Their clothes...they looked more like long pieces of cloth wrapped around themselves, almost like robes, except it only encompassed their upper parts, mostly, and only some of it draped down around their hips. It looked a lot more like accessories than clothes, but who was I to judge. After all, all I was wearing was Jake's black, warm hoodie, not zipped up and certainly not covering myself.

"Ah, Lauren," said Vorpal, finally noticing me. The Director went to mingle with the others while Vorpal approached. "How is everything?"

"You took my fucking arm," I said angrily.

"But all things considered..?"

I frowned. "I'm fine."

"The tests yesterday went perfectly, better than we imagined. These five are representatives from both our government and our military, and they are eager to see the progress we've made."

Although I hated the idea of showing off my newfound capabilities to these men, who couldn't care less who I was and sure as hell didn't appreciate the torture I'd been put through to get me to this point, I really didn't have much of a choice. Though I wasn't drugged and I certainly wasn't bound, at least not yet, I still had to do just about anything the Aknarii told me to, because I had nowhere to run, and certainly no place to hide, and I didn't doubt for a second they had some kind of tracer inside me now. Besides which, when I looked back, the one guard who had accompanied the Director and myself here had been joined by another, both at least three feet taller than me, holding weapons and were way more muscular than even Jake.

I was then invited over by the Director, who spoke to the five in Alien, then to Vorpal, then gestured toward me, I think wanting me to show him my half-arm. After finally getting out of Jake's hoodie, I stood before these aliens totally nude, holding out half my right arm, and the five seemed blown away by it. They poked and prodded and pulled at the metal tongs sticking out, then proceeded to check the rest of me out, and frankly, I felt my leg twitching, just begging to knee the next alien to touch my balls in the face. But unfortunately they were hardly interested in the strangeness that was my genitals.

Finally, the Director threw up his claws, leading the five over to the table with the arms. He seemed much more cheerful now, far more than he'd ever seemed with me, though I suppose he did let Jake live, at least for now. Anyway, one of the other nameless aliens then propped one of the arms up onto that stand once more, strapped it in, then after looking about to see if someone was going to force me, I nervously and dutifully stuck my upper arm into the alien forearm.

Once again I felt that sharp, painful snap of the two pieces connecting, the pain rushing up my arm for just a second, then vanished. After a moment, glancing up at Vorpal, I began to flex the alien muscles a bit, then worked the claw into a fist and out again, turning it in every way I could, then made a few more fists. When I glanced over, the Director was holding some sort of large device, with what looked like a huge needle on the end, and of course I gasped. He never did this before.

When I realized he was coming after me, I cried out and tried to pull away, but my arm was firmly stuck inside this prosthetic. All the while, the Director was addressing his colleagues in his native tongue, those bizarre noises just ringing through my ears as that horrible device drew closer.

"Go away!" I cried, pulling hard, but it was useless.

The Director then lowered the device and pressed it into the arm. The crazy thing was, I felt it. I felt the cold metal against the hard, chitinous skin of the alien prosthetic, then felt it move around. Suddenly, though, I also felt the metal heat up and press into my arm, which made me cry out in immense pain. It felt so real, like he was doing it to my real, living arm, like he'd stuck that enormous needle straight into my flesh and began drilling into my bone. I could feel the pain all throughout the fake arm, and even up into my real arm, and I screamed in pain until he finally pulled the needle out, where just a bit of smoke was coming. Fortunately I didn't smell burnt flesh.

"I'm sorry," said Vorpal, who was standing close to me. Despite his accent, he did sound genuinely apologetic. "I assure you, that was only for demonstrational purposes. You can deactivate such features."

"Fuck you," I whispered harshly, though it probably didn't matter who heard me.

"We're going to demonstrate the weapons next," the alien informed me, like it made a difference.

"Let me fire it on my own!" I said, remembering the shocks they gave me to force me to fire.

"Do you know how?"

Admittedly, I had no clue. As a response, I just frowned at Vorpal, and he detached me from what was evidently not a weapon-arm. It seemed they hadn't, until now, quite perfected detachable prosthetics, given the surprised reaction from the five aliens. I suppose while they had the sort of technology to give an Ankar his limb back, perhaps it was a permanent fixture, and maybe didn't have quite the intricate sensors and receptors this one did. They were impressed, anyway, with my reaction, though I imagined they were far more interested in seeing how well the weapons worked. After all, I imagined it was their money going into this whole project, as well as a dozen others.

And so for these apparently important aliens, I tested their damn weapons, obliterating all their little targets they had set up, which seemed to impress the five very much. So much so, they even clapped, which was interesting to see wasn't just a furry thing. I was sweating again, though, from all the small shocks they continued to give me, generally two. One to turn the arm into a gun, then another to fire. The worst was the rapid-fire one, or the fully-automatic, where he made me demonstrate both the burst-fire, and emptying a round. My arm, my real arm, right around my elbow, was incredibly sore, and I was curious about the enormous plug they put into the side of every gun. Would I need some sort of battery pack to operate one of these things, or at least to fire them? I could understand the convenience of having a weapon attached to your arm, but to be burdened by what would clearly be a huge power source, it just didn't seem worth it.

For the final weapon, though, which was similar to the very first one I'd fired - an energy-based weapon of some kind - they didn't insert the enormous plug, which worried me somewhat. I could feel the heat of the gun deep down to my bone as whatever was inside spun rapidly like a tiny jet engine, and from the end I saw the distorted target waving in the heat. It took a second, but I quickly realized they'd brought out a live target. Another fur.

My very first thought, I have to admit, was "thank god it isn't Jake," but it took no time at all to realize I would be firing this extremely explosive weapon at a totally innocent fur, who was bound, blindfolded, and prodded into place. She looked like a feline of some kind, possibly a lioness; she was quite far away, and my headfur was limp, filthy, and in my eyes a bit.

"You don't have..!" Vorpal suddenly cried out, pushing past me. He'd stopped himself mid-sentence, then began speaking Alien. I gathered, though, he objected about as much as I did to shooting at a live target, much less one who was so clearly innocent, and clearly had no idea what was going on. Above all the shouting, my own included, I thought I heard the poor lion crying

It seemed, however, the Director was intent on showing what these weapons - no doubt miniaturized forms of their hand-held selves - could do to a live subject.

"Fuck you!" I cried out, shaking like crazy. I was attached to this arm with apparently no way to get out, and of course it was strapped to the stand. But I pulled and pulled, and swore even more, agonizing to detach it. However the five were eager to see what this thing could do to living flesh, as clearly they were all saving it for last. And as the scientist - one of the nameless ones - approached to make me fire, I managed to somehow, beyond all comprehension, drudge up some strange, unbelievable amount of strength from somewhere deep inside me and snap one of straps holding down the arm.

I cried out madly as the others were in a fury to stop me, and though the next second or so went by in a total flash, I recalled it so painfully well. As the strap around my gun-wrist broke, it was that much easier to break the second one closer to my elbow. When the leather - or whatever material it was - finally did break, the large, heavy arm swung to my right as I stumbled back against the electric-prodding alien, and somehow, as if completely on its own, a huge blast of bright, orangey heat blew outward, giving a lot less kickback than I'd have expected from a blast so strong. In the half-second before firing, I saw Vorpal leap away, and others quickly ducking, but one of the aliens was not fortunate enough to evade my inadvertent attack. A half-second after firing, his upper body exploded in a flurry of blood, guts, and hard, chitinous skin.

The guards had rushed over, but once the legs and bit of lower-torso of the alien fell, they, like everybody else, just stared in horrified disbelief.

"Holy fuck!" I cried, feeling the alien's warm blood trickling down my face and my body, the gun still active and still spinning, still producing heat and I think ready to be fired again. "Holy shit, holy shit..!" I continued, taking a step back. I could even feel his warm blood dripping down the weapon.

The Director looked around, having quickly ducked out of the way, then finally noticed all the blood and the corpse, and was shocked. But before he could do anything to punish me, the four remaining Aknarii started to clap, nodding their heads in approval.

"Wha..? Are you... Are you fucking kidding me?" Every one of them just ignored me.

Even the Director seemed pleased, as they were clearly giving him praise. He then waved a claw at one of the guards, I think telling them to take the lioness back to her cell. At least, that's what I hoped they were doing.

"Congratulations," said Vorpal. "They like our weapons, and they like their potential. I think they might even like you. The only thing they didn't like was the Aknar you just obliterated."

"You're all fucked up!" I shouted, glad I hadn't seen the Aknar's face when he'd been killed. How many lives had I taken now? One was too many, frankly, though something inside me said this one probably did deserve it. Especially since he probably knew precisely what was happening to Earth, and probably even helped devise a plan, or probably funded it, though that was all just speculation. Personally, I think if one of the others had been shot, this dead one wouldn't have cared about his colleague in the slightest either, but would have been equally as thrilled by the resounding success of these weapons. If I could figure out how to fire this thing on my own, I may have even blasted the shit out of the others, too...though probably not.

Suddenly I felt a great pain in the back of my neck, and quickly realized they were electrocuting me with something, trying to take me down. I wasn't a real danger, but I guess a captured fur with a powerful weapon attached to him wasn't really something they wanted walking around freely.

I then heard a bit more shouting, sounding like Vorpal I think, then he helped me up again, since the shock had toppled me almost instantly. Amazingly, I was still quite conscious, though things had gone a little bit blurry there for a while.

"Don't worry, I'm going to take you now," said Vorpal, then spoke to the others in Alien. The Director seemed to agree, still talking with the four aliens, showing them specific things with the weapons that apparently they didn't need me for. I assumed if they needed me again, they could easily find me.

But for now , Vorpal just detached my arm and carried it with him while we walked through the bright corridors - I quickly followed along after grabbing Jake's hoodie - all other aliens ignoring us. Hell, even the guard seemed to ignore us; he seemed far more interested in the group of three or four aliens standing about outside a door, and though I didn't get a good look, I presumed they were female.

Finally we entered a room that looked similar to the first one I was taken to - the one with that huge probing machine thing - except it was brightly lit and had no big, frightening machine in the centre. It was very spacious, though, and though I didn't know much about Aknarii, I could have sworn the walls were extra reinforced.

"What're we doing here?" I asked, the back of my neck still sore. Looking about, I saw the room was pretty barren, save a couple tables near the entrance and a cabinet on the far end. I threw Jake's hoodie upon a table.

"This is where I come to test some of my projects, which has lately become weapons. It's similar to the firing chamber in the way it's been built, except without all the alerts and monitoring devices."

"So you want me to test it some more?"

Vorpal shook his head. "Not yet, no. For now, I want to teach you how to use it."

"What..? Really? Why?"

Now Vorpal spoke very quietly. "If you hope to escape this ship and save your planet, you're going to need it."

"Are you fucking with me?" I asked, surprised. I almost couldn't believe I was hearing this, though it wasn't too surprising it was coming from Vorpal.

The alien shook his head. "I'm devising a plan to get you and your friend off of here."

"What about the other furs?"

The alien sighed a little. "We have taken thousands of your people, with hundreds being taken every day. I don't know how I can free them all, not without raising alarm. But if I can set you free, your people will stand a chance."

"Why the hell are you so interested in helping me? Or Earth?"

"What we're doing here, in your system, is wrong. The powers that be want results now, and have put all their resources into creating and building their military, instead of our terraforming projects. We do not yet have the ability to transform a dead planet into something inhabitable, but we have made major strides. We will be there in just a few decades, but when Valhalla picked up readings of a living, habitable planet, the decision was almost unanimous. The people, however, do not realize what is happening on your planet, nor do half our government. The ones who the public think are in charge, the 'faces' of our people, they know nothing of what's happening. They are simply pawns to the dark, secret Aknarii pulling all the strings. This whole 'project,' they're calling it, is being kept extremely secret."

"Well...what's your plan?" Most of this top-secret stuff, while startling, was far beyond anything I could control. Interestingly, I found myself somewhat surprised that such an enormously advanced race of beings were as fallible as us furs were, and even subscribed to intricate conspiracies like some of our own governments.

"I will explain it to you later, Lauren. For now, you have much to learn about your newfound abilities."

I frowned, eager to hear what Vorpal had in mind, but knew it wasn't worth arguing with him. "Fine," I said, glancing at the alien weapon. "So are you going to let me keep it?"

"This one, no. This one is a prototype, better suited for testing. Do you want to put it on?"

I held out my left paw, admittedly a little bit eager to try this thing out, and Vorpal handed it to me. It was back in arm mode, which it did automatically when Vorpal removed it.

"Get a feel for it," he said. "How much it weighs, how long it is."

Not really sure how I was supposed to do that, I started with simply bobbing the arm up and down, trying to judge its weight, though I couldn't give it a numerical value. I think it was heavier than you'd expect a two-foot long dead arm to feel like, like it was made of metal. After that, I glanced down into the top, where I'd be sticking my upper arm into. There was a series of small and larger holes, as well as some pins and a few moving parts, then tried to get a better look at what was installed into the end of my arm. It looked similar, though the pins didn't stick out very far, and I could barely even see any metal. With a frown, I tried anyway, positioning the arm in a way that I felt it would go had it been growing out of me naturally, but all I heard was the dizzying sound of metal scraping against metal, then I growled.

"This is something our soldiers would have to get used to on the field, especially if they require the use of a second prosthetic." He then reached over and positioned it a bit differently. "You have to feel the guiding pins, let them show you where to go."

I tried again, which was when I realized I could actually feel the tips of these pins, at least the ones attached to me, and felt a slight buzz when they tapped against the metal arm. I relaxed a bit, and just sort of carefully slid it inward, feeling the buzz as the pin-tips scraped the rim of a hole, then I slowly pushed forward. I could both feel and hear the small pins sliding into the holes, until finally a quiet click and sharp jolt ran up my arm, and the weapon was attached. In an instant, my right arm felt that much heavier, and it took a bit of effort to lift it. Evidently, it weighed a lot more than my real arm.

Fortunately, though, in this room I was able to swing it around more freely, and I even lifted it several times like I was lifting weights, then made a few fists and swung the arm around, like I was fighting. It was strange having a clearly alien arm attached to me, which was at least eight inches longer than my left arm, give or take. When I glanced at Vorpal, he was holding one of those shocking devices, then threw it at me. I tried to catch it with my right paw, or claw in this case, but I missed horribly, only managing to knock it to the floor.

Vorpal smiled, then picked it up again. And so for at least an hour, as humble and wholesome as it seemed, he and I threw several objects back and forth to each other, myself both catching and throwing with my new arm. I think I missed more times than I caught, but amazingly, almost every one of my throws was a good one, if not better than before, though admittedly, I was told dozens of times in my life I throw like a girl. At least I wasn't throwing any worse.

Later, Vorpal simply had me lifting several objects, which he said was to more easily gauge the weight of objects lifted with my new arm, versus lifting those same objects with my left. As he predicted, I found things lifted with my right arm were heavier than with my left, since as far as my brain was concerned, I was lifting both the added weight of the new arm, plus the object. Vorpal said with time, my brain would correct the difference.

Some time later, after just hours of "playing" with the prosthetic, Vorpal finally removed it and said I should get back to my chamber, though he really meant to say "cell." Before leaving me, though, he said in the coming days, we would practice some more, and he would teach me - if he could teach me - how to activate and fire the weapon on my own. After grabbing Jake's hoodie, I was finally escorted back to my cell, where an excited Doberman was waiting for me.

"How'd it go? What'd you do?" he asked me, after we embraced.

"It went okay," I said, gently tossing the hoodie aside for now. "I, um... I killed someone."

"Shit, really? Why? What happened?"

I instantly realized I probably still had some of the alien's blood on me, which had no doubt soaked into my fur and became less easily visible within the black strands. "They wanted me to test a weapon on another fur," I told Jake. "A living one. But I somehow managed to break the arm off the stand, and I accidentally shot one of the aliens with it. No one really seemed to mind, though..."

"Fuck... Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "I guess so. To be honest, it kinda shocked me at first, but...I dunno. I didn't really care that much. I think he was one of the big supporters of this stupid war. Like...there were five of them, and for some reason I think they were all kind of behind everything that's happened, you know? So I guess it's a good thing he died, though I doubt it made any difference. I think they're all military or government men, all pulling strings and so forth. I know it sounds more like a mystery novel, or something..."

Jake just smiled and laughed quietly through his nose, then gave me a hearty squeeze.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing nearly as exciting. I pretty much sat around and slept all day. Though I did do a bit of a workout, just to keep myself active. What I really want to do is go for a run."

"A workout, eh?" I said, running my paw down Jake's back. "What sort of workout?"

"Push-ups, sit-ups." Then Jake glanced up, and when I looked I saw a bar or pipe or something, a part of the ceiling. "Some pull-ups, squats, leg raises... You know. Standard stuff."

"Of course," I replied, having no idea what he was talking about. Jake then took my left paw and pressed it against his stomach, flexing his muscles.

"Ooh."

Jake smiled.

I let my paw stay around there for a while, then I moved it up toward Jake's chest, feeling those powerful muscles, then up a bit further to his shoulders, then ran my pawpads down his right arm, feeling every bump and curve, and of course the dog flexed a bit for me, which made me blush and giggle. When I looked up at him, he was still smiling back at me, then he held me in his arms.

"I can't imagine my life without you, Jake."

The dog kissed me lightly on the side of my head. "I know what we've been through together has been terrible, but right now...I feel like some kind of weight has been lifted. Assuming your alien friend comes through for us, for once everything doesn't seem so hopeless."

I gave my boyfriend a squeeze - I still wasn't entirely used to referring to someone as such - then we shared a long, tender kiss. In no time at all, our tongues pressed together, and what started off as something sweet was quickly becoming something very exciting. Though I couldn't use both paws to feel the canine up, I certainly did my best with what I had, running my paw up along Jake's side as his tongue slid around my maw, and soon that paw found its way into his boxers, grabbing at his perfect rear-end.

Jake growled deeply and pulled away, staring at me with lust-filled eyes, paws held at my waist. I could feel his hard sheath easily against mine, and I had to moan a little when they jammed together a little bit harder, and within seconds, Jake had his boxers off, thrown across the cell. We kissed again, his busy paws all over my slim little body, but inevitably I ended up against the wall, rear pointed outward, and the dog standing just a couple inches behind me, panting a little as he stared at my naked body. He ran either one or both paws up my back, up along my spine, then I felt his hot, hard sheath against my rear, pressing against my hole but hardly making moves to intrude. The dog was just teasing me for now.

I groaned anyway, with my left forearm against the wall, begging him to take me.

"Down," growled the dog, and I just looked at him curiously.

"Down," he boomed, and I did so immediately. "On your paws and knees."

"Jake," I blushed, astounded at his ferocity. I think he'd been rather pent up these last few days, especially since getting him started that morning with barely a blowjob. Hopefully he wouldn't be too aggressive with me, since I was still a little bit sore from the experiments. Nevertheless, with my tail held high in the air, I made it painfully clear I wanted him inside me about as much as he did, and I wiggled a bit to make my tailhole look as inviting as possible.

The Doberman, I heard from behind me, got down onto his knees and ran his paws up and down my legs, then I felt his sheath press once more between my cheeks, until he began to grind. He groaned quietly, while I, of course, made a bit more noise, loving his clear domination over me. Not that it would have taken much. But soon, I guess he decided he was ready, as I felt that familiar tip tease the rim of my hole.

"Come on," I begged. "Give it to me..."

The dog growled erotically, then pushed forward.

Instantly, I began to moan, his hard, thick shaft spreading my poor tailhole to its limits in just a moment, until I felt his even thicker knot jam into my rear. I ground my hips back into the dog, making some sexual noise indicating just how wonderful his cock felt inside me, and the dog just growled in return. When he held onto my hips, I knew he was about to begin.

Though I was half-expecting some asshole alien to suddenly burst into our cell, I was happily relieved to instead feel the canine pulling outward, only to plough back in with surprising strength. I, of course, cried out, and the dog just snarled, then he went at me again, then again, until we worked into a smooth, incredible rhythm accented by our loud cries of pleasure.

Propping myself up with my one arm, which was quickly becoming tired, I endured Jake's amazing wrath for a long while, my head writhing about in ecstasy while my body pushed back against his canid cock, wanting desperately to feel that great big knot inside me, despite all the pain I'd already been through until that point. It was a different kind of pain, though, and certainly nothing could top when that mutagen was coursing through my body. With this sort of pain, which I was currently receiving, there was such emotion behind it, and of course a bit of pleasure, too, though I think the pleasure mostly came from that intense, emotional response.

With my elbow getting a bit sore from the cold metal below me, Jake's severe pounding of my ass continued, my heart racing even more when the dog began to huff and howl. He was obviously getting very much into this, a lot like the last time he fucked me, where he was barking like crazy, lost in the moment. I think he was starting to lose himself in the violent rapture once again, and I had to admit, I may have let out a few chirps and hisses here and there, feeling incredibly stupid, and yet infinitely turned on. He and I, together in this cell, were becoming something feral, something ancient and arcane, something very few furs felt together. I'd seen dozens of porno in my life, and not one of those so-called actors seemed to reach this level of ecstasy. And I think something could really be said for that.

Suddenly, much to my surprise, Jake pushed forward and stopped, panting heavily, then patted my right hip.

"A-Are you done?" I asked between heavy breaths.

"No," he huffed, then pushed on me. "Turn."

Awkwardly, I started to turn myself, finding it much more difficult with only one full arm. But after a bit of force from Jake, I found myself on my back, still attached to Jake's hard cock, and my wrist held down by the dog's strong paw; I think he meant to hold the other down, too, finding quickly that was no longer possible. Regardless, my hips were raised up a bit so he could remain inside me, then Jake bent down to kiss me, his breath heavy. The kiss didn't last long, though, since we were both still panting, and the dog then hooked his arms around my legs, positioning me that way now, and began ploughing me again.

Our eyes met as his hips ground into me, myself more or less stuck like this now, but my elbow was greatly relieved. And it didn't take long for Jake to work our bodies back into that steady rhythm, my maw open only slightly to let out my loud, sharp cries and moans, eyes closed now as he fucked me hard. In just moments, I felt my own precum squirting onto my belly, but could do nothing about that. Instead, I enjoyed the incredible ride Jake was taking me on.

My legs and hips bounced as his hot shaft pummelled my poor little bum, my abs even getting a bit of a work out in this position. It was intense but hardly painful, and I started to blush deeply when I heard the dog barking again, losing himself once more to his feral side.

Jake pushed and pushed, growling and barking and snarling like he was an ancient wolf ripping into his pray, though I was certain even wolves wouldn't go near a nasty little skunk like me. But this one, this wild, ferocious animal, he was above that. He was voracious and hungry, and would take anything he wanted, including a small, helpless skunk. And all I could do was lie there on my back and take it.

Of course, in reality I would have undoubtedly objected greatly to such a stereotype, and yet I don't think I'd ever been with a guy where I was "in charge." I was always the submissive one, usually not by choice, but when I thought about it, I wasn't sure how well suited I'd be to the dominant role. The only time I'd ever penetrated a guy's tailhole was when he pinned me down and made me, since I told him I wasn't comfortable with it. It felt good, I suppose, but I'd never been given a fair chance. Of course, especially with Jake, I sure as hell didn't mind playing the helpless little skunk, especially since he knew in some cases, I was willing to defend myself. Verbally, of course.

Just then, a particularly loud bark from Jake shook me from my thoughts, and I was back to making loud, crazy skunk noises I didn't care to admit I was making. My tailhole was starting to feel sore, and yet Jake showed no signs of slowing down. Instead I just moaned ceaselessly, without inhibitions, grinding my head back into the metal floor and writhing around in endless pleasure. I didn't want this brilliant, perfect, extraordinarily sexual moment to end, and though Jake seemed to be lasting much longer than last time, I feared the end would be soon.

Jake then pushed harder and harder, barking gruffly with every thrust, which indicated to me he was trying desperately to get his knot in, and I wanted it bad. Though I wasn't in a particularly good position to assist in any way, I tried all the same to push my hips and my body toward him, paw slapping the metal floor with every painful plunge. Seconds later, the dog suddenly slammed his enormous knot into me with amazing force and a loud pop.

"A-Aah!" I cried, baring my sharp little teeth. "F-FUCK!"

In the instant I began to swear, Jake had started a long, loud series of barking, growling and moaning, pushing harder and harder into my body as if he hadn't yet knotted me, paws gripping almost painfully around my ankles as his hot seed pumped into my bowels. When he finally stopped, he let my legs rest down around his waist and he leaned forward, panting and sweating heavily, eyes barely open and staring at me. His incredible musk and fragrant cum filled my lungs; an intoxicating scent.

For a moment, I just stared at his heaving chest, mine doing about the same, minus the perfect muscles. "Fuck," I said again, putting my paw on my chest as I caught my breath, and blushing heavily. "That...was amazing."

The dog smiled and leaned down, giving my cheek a modest little kiss, then a couple more. I blushed even harder.

"Just stay put," he said, as if I had any choice. Jake then ran his left paw up to mine, pulling it upward and he kissed my knuckle. After gently placing it down, the Doberman ran that same paw back over my chest, then down my abs and to my sheath, giving it a gentle squeeze.

I moaned quietly and held my paw up to my burning cheek, just to make sure the blush hadn't somehow singed away my fur. It hadn't.

Jake then began to rub my sheath, working my skunk-cock out with ease and apparently delighting in touching it, about as much as I did. He rubbed it very softly with his pawpads, using just his fingertips to get a feel for it, running them all the way along the shaft, until he finally held on firmly.

I was still breathing heavily, though hardly panting anymore, and just watched as he pleasured me. Like with before, I didn't imagine I would last very long, mostly because of his great knot grinding my prostate without mercy, which felt amazing enough as it was. All he had to do was shift slightly or push forward, and an intense shiver of pleasure would rush through me, generally producing some amount of precum, too.

"You look incredible," rasped the dog, checking out my body as his paw sped up. He started using both paws now, which made me moan. And blush some more, from his comment.

"You don't...ah!...have to humour me," I said, fully aware I was still missing half an arm.

Jake shook his head and smiled. "You have a wonderful little body," he told me, "and an amazing smile. I don't know how you remained single all these years, sweetheart."

It may have had something to do with the girl's clothes, which is what had initially set Jake off in his myriad of teasing and bullying, when we'd met. But I didn't feel this was the time to point that out.

Jake's paws then sped up some more, the top one apparently falling off as he stroked faster, instead opting to juggle my warm, fuzzy balls. His pawpads were warm against my sensitive, black-furred orbs, and coupled with his rapid stroking, I moaned softly and wiggled my hips, getting a great feel for his shaft again.

"Oooh!" My heart raced as his knot pushed up against my prostate some more, most of my writhing completely inadvertent, as was my release of several additional shots of precum. "Ah, fuck, Jake...I'm not... Ah! Ah, fuck!"

I ground harder and harder into Jake's shaft, squeezing my bum tightly, as well as my legs against his side, and my paw scratched at the metal floor. With his powerful, muscular arm working me even faster, my balls now just being held firmly in his paw, I thrust my hips into his paw and cried out again. Seconds later, my breathing heavy, I bared my teeth again and cried out, my shaft and my balls, and more overwhelmingly, my prostate exploded in violent rapture, my potent skunk-seed bursting out in long, thick ropes against my black chest. A few more strong waves pushed through, ending with just a few large globs landing on my belly, and then I was done.

"Jesus..." I said, panting again. "I don't know how you fucking do it."

Jake tilted his head slightly.

"You're so god damn good at this," I huffed. "Considering, you know...you hadn't been with too many guys."

Jake shrugged. "I'd done a lot with those few guys," he told me. "First one couldn't even take my knot. Never tried with the others."

I blushed some more, Jake's cock still inside me.

Jake smiled at me, then leaned down, nuzzling me then went further to sniff at my aromatic spunk, then gave it a lick. A second later, he licked me some more, lapping up the seed but continuing even after that, as if to clean me. His tongue moved up my neck, tickling me, until he stopped after licking my cheek, then we kissed.

I could taste my cum on his tongue as it pressed against mine, and all I could do was moan and hold my only paw against the back of his neck, holding him there. I didn't want this wonderful kiss to end, since it could possibly be our last, if things turned out for the worse. But soon the kiss did end, and Jake retrieved his cock.

I held his warm seed inside my body, loving the thought of having such a raw part of him inside me, where it would remain planted. After the dog graciously cleaned the rest of my cum from my belly, we kissed once more and lay down together, holding each other close in a warm, loving embrace, the soft afterglow filling our small cell.

Together, held close to his body, my boyfriend and I fell quickly asleep, feeling as peaceful as we'd ever felt since all of this began.

When we woke, we miraculously woke before our food arrived, but it scared the shit out of me nonetheless. Both Jake and I were quick to finish our bland, horribly textured meal, and when we finished, we just sort of sat around and waited to see what would happen.

"So what do you think will happen today?" Jake asked, stretching a bit.

I stood up with him. "I think Vorpal's going to show me how I can use the weapon-arm on my own. I guess, like, using my brain, or muscles, or something. He said he's got a plan for me, and you."

"Really?" asked the dog, who was back down on the floor now, about to do some push-ups. I guess he really did work out the other day. "Did he say what his plan was?"

I shook my head. "Not really. He said he'd explain later, but apparently only a pawful of people actually know what's happening on Earth. This whole plot against us is being kept totally under wraps, 'cause I guess if their people found out, there would be some huge protest or uprising, or something. Apparently they aren't all a bunch of ruthless murderers."

Jake scoffed. "Yeah, or so he says. I'll bet if their people find out, they won't be that torn up about it."

I shrugged. "Well I dunno. That's what Vorpal said. Maybe even the leader of the Aknarii doesn't know what's happening. He could end this thing immediately. I mean...if he's anything like our world leaders, he's probably just some clueless, ignorant moron."

"Or he started this whole damn thing to begin with."

"I think if their leader started it, a lot more people would know what's going on."

Jake finally got up from his push-ups, looking a bit sweaty now. I wasn't paying that much attention, but he did way more than I probably could have. He then raised his paws up and grabbed onto the pipe, doing some chin-ups now. I just stood there and watched him work out, his bulging, flexing muscles a bigger turn on than I'd previously thought they would be.

"Anyway," I said, blushing and turning away a bit, "for now we're still stuck on this stupid ship." Then I sighed. "The thing is, though, I'm not sure we'll be able to save the rest of the captured furs. He said it'd raise too much alarm, so I guess whatever he's planning, it's sorta covert. I feel bad, though."

"I suppose he's more thinking about the greater good. Less risk means high chance of escape, which means better chance of stopping them...right?"

I shrugged again. "I guess so. Still, if they're all being kept in cells like these, you'd think there'd be, like, a master switch, or something, to open all the doors at once."

"I'm not sure it actually works like that," Jake said. "Not like in the movies. But even still, they must have captured thousands of furs by now, if not more. How on earth can we coordinate rescuing thousands of furs, and manage to somehow transport them off this ship? How are we even supposed to transport ourselves off this ship?"

I frowned. "I don't know! I told you, Vorpal has some plan, but he hasn't told me anything yet. But he's got to be secretive about it, too, because if he isn't, he'll be caught, then probably killed, or at least imprisoned. But...I trust him."

Jake finally finished doing his chin-ups, much sweatier now. He was breathing heavily, too. "I don't know how you can trust him, but then again, I've been stuck in here this entire time. Anyway, I know you feel bad, sweetheart, but given what you've told me, as much as you want to, we can't save the other furs. Not unless you have a plan, which frankly, I seriously doubt you do."

"You're being a downer again."

Jake sighed. "It isn't intentional. I think for now, we need to escape and figure out how we can save them after. I know it sounds selfish of me, but fuck... If we do try to save all the furs, there's an even greater chance we'll be re-captured, and that won't bode well for either of us."

I flattened my ears and looked up at the Doberman, then sighed heavily as I clung onto his hot, sweaty body, nuzzling into his chest. "God damn it," I said, basically admitting he was right. I really didn't like the thought of being the only furs to get off this ship, since every one of them was probably equally as scared as I was when Jake and I first arrived. Most of them would end up dead, if not all of them, either just killed or experimented on until they died. It made me wonder how many had been killed already. Probably hundreds, though I couldn't know for sure.

As Jake and I simply held each other, our door finally opened and Vorpal plus one guard entered. We both glanced over, then Jake gave me a very sweet kiss on the lips before letting me go. "See you in a while," said Jake, then let me go.

I followed Vorpal through the red-lit corridors until we reached the upper floors, and we quickly reached that room he'd brought me to the day before. Almost immediately we started off with some hand-eye coordination exercises, and after a while of that, we began the lessons on controlling the mechanics. Or biomechanics, I suppose.

It was difficult at first. The first obvious step was just moving the arm around freely, learning to control it like any other arm, which he said I'd already been doing remarkably well. And since I had a clear feel for the arm, possibly because I'd lost my real one so soon before testing out this one, the next step was controlling muscles I hadn't ever used before. Fake muscles, of course, that didn't really exist in real Aknar anatomy, but had to be added. By this point, only a small group of aliens were able to properly use the small group of muscles, but had unfortunately been killed either when firing the weapon, or shortly after installation, since apparently the weapons gave off some life-threatening chemical when attached to the body. I was told, however, I at least didn't have to fear the latter, since I was clearly still alive.

Anyway, I was told I had to flex all the muscles in the prosthetic to the best of my ability, twisting it and moving my wrist around, to get a real feel for what I was using, and more importantly, to try to feel the muscles I wasn't using. I was even told to lift some weights for a while, specifically with that arm, but with my other, too, so I could feel the difference. I wasn't sure if I began to feel the difference, but I tried anyway, concentrating on where I thought those muscles were, and to try to flex them. Vorpal said there were a few sets of muscles added in for different jobs. The first, and he showed me roughly where the muscles were, was to open the arm, turning it into a weapon. He said I wouldn't be able to fire the gun without first flexing these muscles, obviously to avoid blowing the arm apart.

And so I concentrated on flexing those muscles. At first I let the arm rest, but I couldn't get it to move. I moved the arm about for a bit, but still nothing. Since Vorpal had all his proper limbs, and didn't have some strange, hidden muscles on his arm, he wasn't entirely sure how to get me to use them, though others had gotten a hang of it. Other aliens, of course, but he was confident I would figure it out. After all, I'd somehow managed to fire the gun on my own, without even thinking about it, so clearly there was a...synaptic pathway, or something, leading to my brain. I didn't really understand all the words Vorpal used, but he was basically saying I COULD use those muscles, it was just a matter now of using them consciously.

Which, by the way, I was still unable to do. I was told getting frustrated wouldn't help, but with time I would have to learn to use them like any other muscle. After a couple hours, though, of various exercises and training, I tried less consciously to use those muscles, except this time I imagined more just the arm opening up. Although it didn't transform, I did feel something odd. Something different, like cracks were running through the skin, all the way up my fake forearm, but I couldn't get it much further than that. I told Vorpal, and he agreed, I'd managed to start the process, but I suppose since I was so new at using those newly-added muscles, it would take a lot more time.

And so for the time being, I was sent back to my cell to be reunited with Jake, who was happy to see me. Like usual, he and I stayed close together until we fell asleep, then the next morning, after eating and a bit of conversation, I was taken once more, gone with Vorpal to practice.

Once again, we started off with those same exercises, with a few variations, and a bit more of a workout. I was told to try imagining my arm in the shape of the gun, and Vorpal helped by showing me a different arm, which was a close replica to the one I was using. He had me examine the gun closely, and even made me try to draw it, though I was no artist, of course with my right paw. The drawing was a horrible representation of what was sitting in front of me, though it did allow me to look at its tiny details more closely. All of this strange technology was now a part of me, and I would have to get used to having this thing attached to my arm, especially if I hoped to live amongst furs once again.

And so I pictured what the gun looked like in my head, while envisioning the arm opening up and becoming this terrible killing machine. After long hours, I felt those cracks run up my arm again, and I had to say, it was extremely exhilarating. I managed to get that far several more times in just a few hours, and my heart really started to race when bits and pieces actually lifted off, and I could really feel those muscles in the arm flexing. I was starting to do it. I saw a strange orange glow beneath the alien skin, but it vanished quickly as the parts rapidly moved back into place, and oddly, I started to feel somewhat tired. It was a lot more work than I imagined it would be, but by the end of the day, I felt like I'd made some real progress.

The next day started the same as usual. But after an hour or two of exercise, I was eagerly back to the arm, having the same amount of troubles. But Vorpal helped in some way by massaging where the new muscles were, specifically the one I was currently trying to flex, to see if I could get a better feel for where it was. It seemed to help, or I thought it did, since after an hour or so of trying, the arm began to open, and though I didn't get it fully open, I did manage to keep it in that position, and with relative ease. After short praise, I closed the arm and tried some more, and finally, after a couple hours of just opening it and closing it, somehow it just clicked. By the end of the day, I managed to open the arm completely, activating the gun.

I could hear the gun moving and whirring, like a tiny jet engine right in my arm, and once more I noticed heat rising from the end. Vorpal dimmed the lights, and it was crazy to see a faint glow emanating from the end, as well as several other areas of the gun, where I could vaguely see inside, seeing the mechanics and moving parts, though I couldn't really distinguish anything. But it was incredible all the same, so much energy and killing power now very much a part of me. I felt like a cyborg or something. The next step, I was told, was to close the gun, turning it back into an arm, and I think I surprised Vorpal by doing it in just a few attempts, pretty quickly too.

And so we finished for the day, feeling like I've made incredible strides. I was told the next day, I would practice firing it on my own, which got me very excited. I wasn't all that into killing and fighting and guns and shooting and stuff - though I loved first-person shooters - I was still just as excited to learn how to fire the stupid thing without the use of a shock-stick. And so after a quick discussion with Jake about it the next morning, him seeming quite worried for me, he gave me a kiss and I departed, following Vorpal back to that empty room.

And so after my exercises, I practiced more opening the arm into a gun, doing that for at least an hour until I was totally comfortable with doing it. I could open the arm up so quickly, and almost without a thought now, so much so it was almost instinct, though a few times I had a bit of troubles. The key, I think, was to not think about what I was doing, like Vorpal said. It's kind of like when you've got a good rhythm going in Guitar Hero, and suddenly you start to think about the buttons you're pressing, that's when you start to mess up. Anyway, after turning the arm into a weapon, I was ready to start shooting.

But of course, it wasn't as simple as that. It was, without a doubt, as easy as just thinking about it, then doing it, flexing those particular muscles that would make the weapon fire. Apparently there were two methods of firing. One was a single blast, and the other a continuous beam. And I couldn't get my arm to do either. I was told, though, if I was going to attempt, I had to aim for the far wall, since it had particular dampers put up, or some such thing, to easily absorb and disburse the shot, rather than blowing a hole in the wall.

Vorpal then began to explain the mechanics of these particular weapons to me, showing me how they work and the science behind them, most of which went right over my head. But I think I got what I needed from his long lesson, and tried firing again. I had no idea how I managed to do it in the first place. It just sort of happened, without thinking, and though I knew that was key to working this damned arm, I couldn't help but consciously think about it. It was instinctive to. Instead, for a couple hours I just opened and closed the weapon, trying periodically to fire as if aliens were coming after me and I had to quickly dispatch them. It didn't help, but I thought it'd be worth a try.

And so the next day I was back at it again, doing the same old exercises, and learning the same old lessons, trying my hardest to flex the gun-firing muscles. Interestingly, though, Vorpal decided it might be a good idea for me to try to learn some of his language, which I had so affectionately called Alien. He said though I would never be able to speak his language, I could at least try to understand it, as well as learn to read it, too. Language had never been my strongest subject in school - French, specifically - but I figured it'd be worth a shot. Plus I didn't have a whole lot of choice in the matter.

Like with any language, I started off with basic pronouns, then added some simple verbs later on, though it was an extremely dizzying language to learn. Vorpal also tried to teach me some nouns, in particular ones I might want to know for navigating the ship, and, if need be, to fly my own ship more effectively than not knowing their language at all.

Their alphabet, by the way, reminded me of a mix of old Norse runes and Arabic writing, and since I could barely understand the Alien words Vorpal said to me, reading their writing was that much more difficult. But like with just about any skill, it would take practice and repetition, repetition, repetition. Unfortunately, I didn't want to spend a whole lot of time on Valhalla, which meant trying to teach me all of this would probably, in the end, be for naught. Plus I really had no interest in learning Alien, much less writing or reading it. Any Aknar worth talking to could already speak English, anyway, and probably a lot better than I did.

Anyway, several days passed and though I was no closer to understanding their language, I was at least making great progress in firing the gun-arm. Since I was learning the mechanics of it all, too, or biomechanics, I was beginning to have a loose grasp on how I was controlling the weapons. It of course all started in my brain, thinking about what muscles I wanted to move, but of course particular muscles activated particular parts in the fake arm, such as lifting this plate or shifting those gears or those tubes around. They're also what make the gun work, like spinning the rotors, or some such thing, which, when connected to my body, creates a certain chemical reaction, which is then suddenly expelled in a burst of energy. My understanding of it was very thin.

Nevertheless, I was starting to have more control over the weapon. It was very exciting to realize that I was able to charge the weapon, and though I hadn't managed to discharge it yet - which caused a great burning in both the weapon, and in my arm - I was certainly well on my way. The day after that, though, I finally fired my first shot.

I stared at the arm for a long moment, back in "arm mode," never fully recognizing the amount of power I was able to wield now. I remembered very vividly what I'd done to those dead test animals, and even more so I remembered blowing that one Aknar into hundreds of small, gory pieces. And yet it wasn't until I was able to fire the arm with my own thoughts that I began to realize, they'd made me into a weapon, and if I wasn't so afraid of dying, I could totally conquer something with this thing. When I'd fired my first shot on my own, when I'd actually meant to, Vorpal was amazed and excited, though I wasn't able to fire off any more - perhaps it was more of an accident than I'd initially thought.

Fortunately, the following day those thoughts were quelled when I managed to fire another blast of bright orange energy, creating a big ugly black mark on the wall where the brunt of the blast had struck. It had also forced both my arm and myself back a few feet or so when I fired, but it was still exhilarating. I'd made the room shake, but Vorpal assured me no alarms had been triggered. What was most thrilling was when I managed to fire off another shot, staggering back but hitting the exact spot I wanted to, and then firing a third with total control over it. It was almost overwhelming, like when you first realize you can fly in a dream. And of course Vorpal was happy, too, though for far greater reasons than me. Strangely, I felt a little hungry afterwards.

Despite the friendship I'd gained with the alien, I had to keep reminding myself why he was doing all this to begin with. Though he started off simply helping those in need, by this point it was clear he was just as excited in his career as a weapons producer, and probably couldn't wait to tell the Director how much progress he'd made - it was one thing, after all, to have me survive the initial procedure, but a whole other to actually have it working with absolute perfection. I still resented him for taking my arm, despite the excitement I felt at firing this thing. But eventually I had to give the alien gun-arm back to Vorpal, where he would store it safely away, and I had to admit, despite its ugliness, I wanted to take the arm with me. But for now, I was sent back to my cell where I happily slipped into Jake's hoodie - I stopped bringing it with me when I nearly shredded the end of the right sleeve when opening the gun-arm - then immediately slipped into Jake's strong, loving arms.

"I feel like fucking Mega Man," I said, giving the dog a squeeze.

"Who?" asked Jake.

I frowned. "Mega Man."

The dog shrugged.

I sighed, then gave another squeeze. "Just a video game character."

"Oh."

"I have a good feeling about all of this. I don't know why...but I think we'll be okay."

"Assuming we're even going to have a home to go back to."

"I'll bet Earth's putting up a way better fight than we think."

"I sure as hell hope so."

"So how're you doing?" I asked, sitting down now, beside the dog. We sat close together, myself holding onto his right arm with my left, resting my head against his shoulder.

"You mean besides bored out of my mind? Guess I could be worse. Getting sick of that food, though. On the plus side, it's got all the nutrition I need to make for a healthy workout, for what it's worth. I would kill to go for a run, though."

"I could ask Vorpal..? Though I wouldn't get your hopes up."

"Believe me, they aren't." Jake paused for a moment. "Sorry, baby. Being pent up in here...I hope you can understand why I don't feel as optimistic as you do."

I frowned a little, but this time not out of annoyance. More out of sadness. "You could just trust my feeling that you and I are going to be fine."

"I do trust your judgement, sweetheart, but I just think it's a lot easier to believe that when you can get out of this cell and actually do shit. By the sounds of things, they aren't experimenting anymore on you, which compared to being stuck in here, doesn't sound too bad to me."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what they'd done to me, and what that felt like."

Jake sighed slightly. "I suppose so. I sure as hell don't envy what they did to you." The dog then surprised me a little when he turned to his right and with his left paw, gently rubbed my belly, nuzzling me. "I miss you when you're gone."

I started to blush, then nuzzled back. He was still rubbing my belly, which for some reason felt amazing. His big paw even ran up toward my chest a little, but mostly rubbed horizontally, his magical pawpads somehow penetrating deep into my muscles and massaging them with incredible proficiency, just from that quiet rub alone. Within moments, the dog had removed his hoodie from me, and had me on my back, his paw still rubbing my belly.

"Jake," I said softly, looking up at my big, strong boyfriend. Though I was missing half an arm, I felt like both paws - again the phantom limb thing going on - were up above my chest, dangling there from my wrists as he rubbed my belly, and even my legs started to move upward, like I was curling into a ball. Fortunately, I stayed exposed enough to not inhibit Jake's loving paw. "You don't hafta do this..." I finally managed to say.

Jake smiled at me and gave my little nose a kiss. "I know, baby." He, of course, didn't stop, and soon enough, he had me on my stomach, massaging my back. It was one of the most wonderful feelings in the world, topped by very few. In fact, I'd probably go as far as to say this felt better than sex, way better, except you don't get quite the same bonding experience, both emotionally and physically.

Jake's paws, I'm telling you, they were something else. They moved so simply, and yet they seemed to release every bit of stress inside me. I felt his pawpads kneading into my muscles, possibly his thumbs grinding outward from my spine, in toward my shoulder blades, all while moving down and making circles upon my muscles with either the rest if his fingers, or the heels of his paws. Either way, this was certainly heaven, if not the next best thing.

"Oooh, God," I groaned, feeling more relaxed than I had been in a long time. "Where the fuck," I said quietly and calmly, "did you learn to do this?"

Somehow I knew the dog was smiling at me, despite my eyes being closed and face leaning sideways against my left arm. "Just sort of picked it up along the way." I could only assume "along the way" meant throughout his life, possibly performing it on other guys. Or even other girls, for all I knew. Either way, he was very good at it, though admittedly I'd never had a professional massage before. I suppose he could've been doing it all wrong, but I definitely wasn't complaining.

"It feels incredible," I said into my arm, occasionally making a satisfied noise. It wasn't sexual in any way, since he didn't go too far past my lower back, but fuck, it felt amazing. The way he pressed his paws and fingers into my back, twisting and grinding and turning them in very particular ways, then going back up to do it all over again...it was just brilliant. The best was when he massaged my shoulders and my neck, which is where I generally made my noises, groaning happily and peacefully.

"How does it feel?" asked the dog.

"Fucking amazing," I answered, even though it was probably a rhetorical question.

After a while, the dog finally finished up, ending everything with a gentle kiss on the back of my neck. He then lay on the metal floor beside me, and as I leaned up, he got a paw around my waist and pulled me atop, holding me against his chest firmly, but not tightly. He was rubbing my back with such love, it made me blush brightly.

"You know I love you, Lauren," said Jake.

"Yeah, of course I do."

He then nuzzled his cheek against mine. "I do trust your optimism, but you have to see things from my perspective for a moment. How optimistic can I possibly be when I'm the one who's constantly locked in this cell with no way out?"

I found it hard to admit, but I hadn't really considered that. I'd just kept getting annoyed at Jake's pessimism, while I was the one getting out every day and gradually learning how I can possibly get us free of this place. Though Vorpal had given me no indication as to what his supposed plans were, for some reason I trusted that alien blindly.

He'd taken my arm, after all, though he didn't really want to. Or at least, felt bad for doing so. No doubt he was very curious and excited to see what would happen, though given the circumstances, he also felt morally outraged. Unlike his superior, Vorpal didn't like the idea of testing and experimenting on a race of people who not only didn't volunteer, but who were also being destroyed by the thousands by his own people. In all fairness, though, the soldiers were just following orders, and would probably be killed or imprisoned for doing otherwise. I think it was really that group of five - now four - aliens I saw when I was being tested the second time who were orchestrating this whole affair. No one had really said anything about them, not even Vorpal, but for some reason that seemed like a reasonable assumption to me.

"I guess I never really thought of that," I finally admitted. "I know you have no reason to trust any of these aliens, and I guess given all I've been through, I shouldn't either. But I really think something's going to happen real soon that'll set everything in motion. We're gonna get out of here, and we're going to help save Earth. Maybe not by ourselves, but I think Vorpal is going to give us the tools needed to make sure that can happen. That's what he's implied the last few days, anyway."

"Did he give any indication as to when this is all going to go down?" Jake asked.

I shook my head, giving the dog a bit of a squeeze. "Not yet. I don't know why I feel like it'll be soon...just something in my gut, you know?"

The Doberman didn't respond, but just kept rubbing my back. Soon enough, I felt my tired body begin to drift off, warm and content against Jake's body. I wasn't nearly as bothered by my half-arm since first losing it, though sometimes I did keep accidentally thinking my forearm and paw was there, which would frustrate me. But all things considered, it was a fairly good sleep, at least, I didn't have nightmares and didn't constantly wake up. I couldn't speak for Jake, but it seemed as if he was sleeping reasonably well, too.

When I woke up, I was still lying with Jake, but he was still sleeping, so I took that opportunity to snuggle closer. A couple minutes later, though, the dog finally stirred awake, then shortly after, our food arrived. We ate it reluctantly, and before Jake and I could really have any sort of conversation with each other, I was already being summoned.

And so I unfortunately left my boyfriend earlier than I usually would have, a little worried about the change in routine. It wasn't that I was particularly a creature of habit, but so far as I could tell, these aliens worked on a schedule, especially Vorpal; my lessons would start and stop at precisely the same time every day. Though I didn't have the time, I had no reason to believe our food had arrived late, since I'd learned it was entirely automatic, and Jake and I always had time to talk, at least, before someone came to get me. But it was as if they were watching me, and came in to retrieve me immediately after I finished eating, which I suppose was fair. What could be so urgent?

Unfortunately, I was filled with a certain amount of dread when I was led into that very first chamber I'd been in, the one with the big, frightening probing machine, and I couldn't help but wonder how many furs - and aliens, for that matter - had died trapped in this thing, both before and after me. Naturally, the next thing I began to wonder was what on earth they wanted me back in here for. Perhaps they wanted to cut off my other arm, or even my legs. Maybe I was going to be given fake footpaws, with rockets in them. Though I immediately began to see myself as something like Iron Man, I was definitely turned off by the process by which I would become something like Iron Man. Beside which, he was just a guy in a suit. I would be more like Astro Boy, which was not an appealing thought.

But when I was shoved into the room, I was happy to see just Vorpal standing there, and the guards leaving behind me. "What is this?" I asked, still nervous.

"Come with me," said the scientist, and I followed him into that mysterious room behind the glass.

Not surprisingly, it appeared to be an office of sorts, though upon closer inspection, it looked more like a small workshop. There were papers and documents all over the place, up against the wall and things written over everything, even on the wall itself. But more than that, there was countless little mechanical pieces, gadgets and gizmos scattered across the long table in front of the glass, as well as other large pieces of hardware and more small bits and pieces on the other table, on the other side of the room. A desk appeared to be on the wall furthest from the door, between both tables, which also had an assortment of papers and futuristic reading pad things, like in Star Trek, as well as more electronic and mechanical doodads strewn about.

"What is this?" I asked again, totally unable to recognize any of the thousands of small and large pieces of metal thrown about, as well as the multitudes of tools Vorpal no doubt used with the metal pieces.

"It's my workshop," said the alien, though that wasn't particularly helpful.

"Why're you showing me this?" I asked, picking up some strange device. It did look vaguely familiar, though, like I'd seen it before, or had seen it attached to something else. Perhaps a part of one of those weaponized prosthetics.

"Because," he replied, as clear as always. But when he turned to his side and revealed a metal case, I was instantly intrigued as to what was inside.

"What's that?" I asked curiously, pointing toward it as if it was necessary.

"It's a gift."

My heart was racing for some reason, and I felt nervous. What could it be?

Finally, though, Vorpal turned back toward the case and with two clicks I heard him open it, and I had to resist the powerful urge to shove him out of the way just so I could see inside. My curiosity was almost overpowering. But at long last, the alien scientist turned around, and I just stared in shock of what he held out with both claws.

In his claws, Vorpal held that which was once mine, and that he had taken from me. But now, it would seem, the alien was prepared to give it back, no doubt with a few enhancements. I just stared into the black fur of what was once flesh and bone, what was once a very close part of my right arm.

"I made this for you," said the alien, though I hadn't yet taken it. I was still surprised, and blown away by the fact he'd done this in the first place.

Finally I took my new arm in my left paw, and felt around for a moment until I had it attached, and of course I instantly began flexing the muscles. I wondered if it had been turned into a weapon, or if it was just a regular prosthetic. This didn't seem like the proper place to test that out, though, but I was burning with curiosity. My heart was still pounding against my chest, and when I felt around my elbow, where the arm separated, I could barely feel a thing. No seam, no hard bit of metallic flesh sticking out, and most importantly, I didn't see anything, either. It was almost like I had never lost the arm to begin with, and I was far more overcome with emotion than I probably should have been. I wasn't crying or anything, but I was definitely choked up a bit.

"Why..? Why did you do this?" I asked, feeling the fur and flesh more carefully with my left paw. It was so perfect. I even felt around for what would have had to have been added musculature, but I wasn't sure yet if I'd found it.

"It was the least I could do for putting you through everything that'd happened. I must say, it is one of my best recreations, and of course I used your actual arm to help build it. That is your original fur, and you'll find it's every bit as attached to the mechanical flesh as it was to your old flesh."

"It's amazing," I said, still staring into it. I continued to stretch and flex and bend the arm as much as I could, practically begging it to show me some sign of being fake, and yet it looked completely real. I was amazed at the craftsmanship, and still surprised Vorpal had done it to begin with. But...I had to know. "Is it..?" I began.

"See for yourself."

Remembering everything I'd learned, I focused a bit and threw my arm down to the side, and just as I did, it seemed as if that forced various pieces to separate and shift and move about, every bit of which I could feel as if my muscles were peeling apart (minus the pain), twisting, moving and forming into something new, and after just a second, in place of my new furry arm was an extraordinary alien weapon.

"Shit," I said, staring at the gun. It was similar to the one I'd been practicing with, except significantly shorter and smaller, though I didn't doubt its power.

"Unlike the ones you've been using, this one cannot accommodate energy input from another device. It is fuelled by your body's energy, which was why you felt hungry and a little bit tired before. Hopefully you won't have to use it so much that it drains all of your energy, though I'm not yet sure if that's possible."

"Why...make it a weapon?" I asked. "If I return to Earth, I'm not going to need something like this. Why didn't you just make it a regular prosthetic? Isn't that what you'd prefer to be doing, anyway?"

"Aye, but it has been so long since I've created a normal prosthetic from scratch, much less one belonging to an alien species. I haven't forgotten how, believe me, but in the time frame I've given myself, this was far more expedient. The weapons are, more or less, already manufactured, it's simply a matter of putting the pieces together, and in your case, putting it together in a smaller form. I won't bore you with the precise science, but to have fully recreated your limb without the weaponry, it would have taken at least another week. A week I'm sure your planet doesn't have."

"Well, it's fucking amazing," I said. I didn't really understand how making a gun-arm would have been faster, versus a regular arm, but I trusted the alien's word.

After shifting the weapon back into an arm, I was delighted to see every strand of black fur back in its normal place, unable to tell it had even been split apart. I then began to feel up the arm, feeling the muscles - the fake muscles, as well as the added ones now that I was able to locate them - and I even felt a pulse! It was my understanding that these prosthetics were as real as they could be, considering they were weapons, but this one...I think Vorpal had truly outdone himself. Great care was obviously taken in making this arm. The pawpads even gave off heat, and felt fleshy to the touch, despite them entirely being synthetic. The best, of course, was I apparently hadn't lost any feeling in the arm, as I felt around my body just as easily and just as properly as my left. "Thank you, so much..."

Vorpal nodded. "It was the least I could do for putting you through so much pain."

I glanced up at the alien with a bit of a frown. "You have no idea how much pain you put me through."

The alien lowered his head a bit. "No...I suppose I don't, truly. But your reaction said far more than you realize. But for now, Lauren, we have far more pressing matters to discuss."

I perked my ears a bit. "What is it?"

"For the two years we've been stationed by your planet, I've secretly been in contact with one of Earth's most brilliant scientists. It was risky, and certainly against protocol, but I couldn't resist. Dr. Alexei Malikov is his name, and he and I have been sharing our knowledge with each other for a long time, and I may even be able to call him 'friend.' Anyway, that being said, he has the greatest respect amongst both your governments and your shockingly small science community. Your blank stare tells me you have never heard of him."

I hadn't, and felt a little bit ashamed for it. Though it's not like I should have.

"No matter," said the alien, waving his claw as if to literally wipe the idea away. He then leaned back on one of his cleaner tables, with only a lot of stuff on it, instead of tons. "The reason I mention Dr. Malikov is because he will help you in your plight, and his own, for that matter. While it has been a week since he and I last spoke, I trust he is still alive, though of course I can't be certain. I would know if he'd been brought aboard... But I digress. Assuming he has not met with an unfortunate end, he has the ties with your government and your military necessary to end Earth's struggle."

I was having a difficult time following this, since Vorpal was being so vague in some places, and annoyingly clear in others. "How can he help? Wouldn't he have done so already?"

"Tomorrow you will make your escape," said the alien, putting his claws together for a moment. He looked quite focused. "Each of Valhalla's child-ships has a staggering set of unique codes which quite literally protects them. One particular code, amongst the thousands they have in place, is what keeps their shields up, which are virtually impregnable. Each of our twelve child-ships has a different code for their shields, as well as every other system keeping them functional. Having said that, when you make your escape, I will have given you a data device containing the codes to each of our child-ships shields, though I pray attacking them will be a last resort."

"Fuck," I said, closing my eyes for a moment and rubbing my head. This was so much to take in. "Can't they just change the codes?"

Vorpal nodded. "Yes, indeed. If you take down their shields and are unsuccessful it bringing down the ship, once their shields are back online, you will not be able to break through once more. On that note, if their shields are taken down on just one of their ships, the others will promptly change their codes, for all their systems."

"So it's kind of a one-shot type of deal." My stomach turned at that prospect. It wasn't that I didn't trust our military - I didn't trust our military, but in this matter, I was confident they would do what they had to - but basically if we somehow fucked it up, we'd be screwed. "Isn't there any way you can shut their shields down from here, or give us the new codes, or something?"

Vorpal shook his head. "I will be taking a great, great risk getting the codes for you now, though I am confident I can do it without detection. Our military will not let themselves become so vulnerable a second time, that much I can assure you. They will know, of course, the codes somehow came from one of their own, but I suspect there are others sympathetic to Earth's plight even closer to the military than I am, and they won't be able to prove anything. That is, if I'm able to cover my tracks well enough. The guilty tend to be the most paranoid."

I rubbed my head a bit more, still trying to figure everything out. I think I understood the basics, but shit, this action movie type of thing sure as hell wasn't my forte. "So, like," I started, pausing a long while before managing to continue, "there isn't any other way to get them to stop? I mean...why would you advocate destroying your own people?"

Vorpal sighed. "It...It isn't so black and white," said the alien. "I do not want to cause harm to any life form, much less a sentient people, and especially not to the Aknar, but I fear it will be the only message our military will understand. I do have a plan that will minimize the loss of life, but even I am doubtful it will work. In essence, you will have a code not only to the child-ships' communication systems, but to Vahalla's, too. With the proper equipment, which I'm confident Dr. Malikov will have, or have access to, you can effectively take over any and all media outlets upon all our ships, and convey a message to all our people. Your voice - and I don't necessarily mean YOU - will be heard, and hopefully the Aknar will react. Unfortunately, even if it yields promising results, it will likely take time between the broadcast of your message and the end of the war, which will see the loss of a great many more lives."

Leaning back on a cluttered table, I sighed heavily. "Christ," I said, stomach turning. "So if Jake and I get off this ship, we should find this Dr. Malikov?"

"Yes, well that brings me to the next part, or perhaps the first part, of my plan."

I managed to somehow resist groaning. Luckily, I would have the night to go over all of this again in my head. And with Jake.

"It is the matter of your escape."

I was curious, actually, how that was all supposed to go down. The scientific stuff was all quite interesting, and confusing, but this would be something more...raw, I suppose. Getting off this ship would be simple, or rather, a matter of getting from point A to point B, or so I imagined. None of this hacking into their computer systems and overriding...something. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to pilot one of their ships, and I severely doubted Jake did, either. Would we even be taking a ship? Perhaps we would have to take an escape pod. The frightening thing was, of course, if we did get out in a shuttle or something, what was stopping us from being shot down? If not by the Aknarii, then by Earth's military. It wouldn't be like we could just fly straight for one of their government buildings - if any were still standing - and not get shot down. So...how was that supposed to work?

"After receiving the data device, I will send a guard to retrieve you, but you must subdue him somehow. The easiest method may be..." Vorpal then gestured toward my arm. "Violent, I know, but you can't risk him setting off any alarms. Personally I would hope you'd find a less lethal way, but time will be of the essence."

"M-hmm..?" I said, paying particularly close attention. This part of my mission I certainly didn't want to mess up.

"Anyway," continued the alien, "after escaping your cell, you will have to, as covertly as possible, make your way to the shuttle bay. I pray you remember some of our lessons on the Aknar language?"

I didn't remember a whole lot, but I hoped the adrenaline from running from these aliens would be enough to force me to remember. I just shrugged as a response.

Vorpal looked fretful for just a moment. "Yes, well... Either way, you must find your way to the shuttle bay. Once you get there, you will need to find an Z-class shuttlecraft. It's small, manoeuvrable, and heavily shielded, plus it's light on weapons. It will pose the least amount of threat to your people, and hopefully give you enough of a disguise to slip past our warships. At one time, Z-class shuttles were used to transport important Aknar figures, though they are rarely used now. There will be one docked, I assure you."

"This is all well and good, but you never taught me how to fly the damn thing. Unless it's got autopilot, I won't be taking it anywhere..."

Vorpal grinned a little. "Indeed. As a matter of fact, all you need to do is turn the ship on and insert the data device. It'll take a few moments to read the information, but soon after, you will be headed quickly back to Earth. I will program in the last known location of Dr. Malikov, so I hope he is still there. If not...well, I suppose you could attempt to take the data device to your military, though I would advise against it. At least, at first. I trust Dr. Malikov to do the right thing with the data, and he holds enough authority where your people will listen to his advice. If it was strictly up to your military, they would destroy us all."

I sighed once more, flexing my fake arm a bit. "What if I get killed before any of this can happen? Then what?"

Vorpal tapped a couple fingers against the side of the table for a second, pausing before answering. "Then I suppose I will have to make that journey myself."

For some reason, that really surprised me. He'd already told me he had a family, and he would risk it all just to save Earth. And I had to admit, I couldn't think of many furs who would do something so selfless and so brave, more especially for an alien species, much less their own. "You...would really do that? I mean...you'd probably be killed on sight."

Vorpal nodded assuredly. "Yes. I love my family very much, and I love my people. I am very proud to be an Aknar, but what we're doing to your planet is unforgivable, and it shames myself and my kind as a whole. When we left our dying planet, we were a mostly peaceful people. We had law enforcement, and of course criminals and the like, but there were no wars. Our military didn't start to grow until we encountered other alien species. Other violent alien species. A ship the size of Valhalla doesn't exactly go unnoticed to prospecting pirates."

"Just how big is Valhalla, anyway?"

Vorpal apparently had to think about it for a second. "Perhaps...roughly the size of Earth's continent, Australia. Perhaps a bit larger than that."

"Are you serious?" I asked, surprised. "That's fucking huge."

"The vast majority of Valhalla is for housing its residents, all one-billion of us, and the next largest section would be for our military and Valhalla's child-ships. The science sectors, while extremely important, were designated the least amount of space."

"Do you really think if we send a message to all your people, something will be done?"

"It may be possible, but most Aknarii are too meek to rise up against their leaders. I must admit, even I hesitate to go forward with my plan...but something must be done."

"So what now..?"

"For now," said the alien, "you can practice with your new weapon. But first you must remove it. I don't exactly want anyone close to the Director seeing you walking around with a weapon attached to you."

I gave the alien an affirming nod, then gripped the prosthetic somewhere around the elbow, and though I could feel where the two halves divided - just above the joint - I could easily feel my paw on either half. It amazed me how much sensation the fake limb had, despite being almost entirely synthetic. Finally, though, I found the appropriate spot and depressed tightly until I felt a tight pinch, then an almost steamy noise as my living body disconnected from the metallic limb. As soon as it was completely detached, Vorpal promptly took it from me, then continued out of his office.

But instead of going to that room I'd been practicing in the past week or so, Vorpal went another route. I wasn't sure where he was taking me, and though I still trusted the alien, every time something new happened, my stomach turned.

Much to my surprise, after a short elevator ride upward, I was led into a fairly large, long chamber, looking something like a training course, or rather, a shooting range. And so for several long, hard hours, I practiced with my new weapon-arm. It was lighter than the other ones, since it was significantly smaller, and oddly, easier to control. It didn't have a whole ton of kick-back, not that the alien arms did, and I suppose it just felt more...natural. Maybe because it was my arm, something actually suited to myself, like it was more a part of me. Either way, with each run of the course, my aim improved, and so did my times.

Bear in mind, I wasn't particularly an athlete, so I'm sure there were dozens of people who would perform way better, but I thought I was doing all right. With each run, I hit my targets with that much more speed and accuracy, though I was getting tired fast. After the third hour, I was totally wiped.

Panting, I approached the alien scientist. "Shit," I said. "That takes a lot out of me." I didn't think I was THAT out of shape , since I was hardly even running throughout the entire course. In fact, I ran more strenuously in my morning runs than I did in these courses, which changed each time, by the way, just slightly. Enough to keep me on edge.

"You've been using your weapon a lot," Vorpal told me. I didn't totally understand. "I was hoping you would get a feel for it yourself, to know your limits. Like I've told you, your weapon feeds off your own body energy. Eventually, depending on how much you use your arm as a weapon, your body will compensate for the massive output, though that would take time. I imagine you're feeling quite hungry now, too."

I was, as it turned out.

"Fortunately, you have improved greatly since you first fired the weapon."

"You mean when I accidentally shot that guy?"

"Indeed. You appear to be in complete control of your prosthetic, and I'm impressed at how quickly it took you to learn. I must admit, Lauren, I will miss you when you're gone."

I couldn't really say the feelings were entirely mutual, though I still thought it was awesome that he'd actually turned my old arm into something useful. I just figured if I wasn't going to die, I would just have to get used to having only one arm. Or one and a half. This was a total surprise, and I was sure as hell grateful for it. But frankly, I couldn't wait to get off this ship.

"But for now, I suppose you need your rest, so your body can recharge. I will also send some food your way."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "I couldn't imagine I would be able to forgive you for what you did to me, but...this gets you pretty close."

Vorpal smiled and laughed quietly. "Well good. I never wanted any of this to happen to you, or any of your people, but I wasn't given much of a choice, and sadly, neither were you. I'm glad I could at least make it up to you, if even in a small amount."

After an awkward pause in the conversation, Vorpal finally led me out of the training course and back to my cell, where I met a surprised and shocked Doberman. He kept staring at me, then my right arm, and back at me again.

"I have given you your arm back, but please, for all our sakes, don't make any moves until tomorrow," said the alien scientist, then nodded and exited the cell.

"What the hell..?" asked Jake, holding onto my right paw.

I blushed a little. "He gave me my arm back," I said.

"That's incredible!" cried the dog, squeezing his paw all the way up my forearm. I guess he thought it was totally real. "We could learn a thing or two from these aliens...if they weren't trying to kill us, I mean."

I smiled, then gave my boyfriend a great big hug, squeezing him around the waist, and he hugged me back with as much enthusiasm.

"Tomorrow," I said, slipping into Jake's large, black hoodie, still alive with his distinctive scent, "we're getting out of here."

The dog then gave me a harder squeeze, and we cuddled in the corner of the cell. He held me so tight in his powerful arms, like he never wanted to give me up, so loving and so protective. His large, strong paws brushed through my fur with such tender authority, I couldn't help but groan a little, blushing brightly and with a smile that wouldn't go away. Jake nuzzled me and gave me quick little kisses on my muzzle, our cheeks rubbing together. My heart was pounding furiously as he kissed me even more, paws still running through my chest and my belly fur, not making any attempts at stroking my sheath, which at this point suited me just fine. Jake and I just continued to make love for a while longer, now totally on the floor, until some food arrived, and he and I reluctantly parted to eat.

When we finished, we went back to our modest little corner and though we didn't resume where we'd left off, we were at least back to cuddling, which we did until we both fell dead asleep.

I had no idea how long we'd slept for, but like our first night here, we were woken by a sudden slamming on the ground, the sound of our large food capsules hitting the floor. Groggily, Jake and I squirmed out of our tight ball of black-furred fuzz and crawled toward the food, opening the small pods adeptly.

Except this time, as I downed the gross, tasteless mush, something very solid slid into my maw, something I'd nearly swallowed. Fortunately, my gag reflex was well-trained, and I managed to cough it up. And what I held in my paw was a strange device, no bigger than my palm - a bit smaller, in fact. It was square, with rounded edges, but in the centre was a crystal of some sort, faceted, sort of like a diamond, except it was cut the same on the other side. The metal was much like the metal they'd slid into my upper arm when creating the cap at the end, and there may have been a few buttons on it, too. But not one of those regular buttons that you press, but one of though touch screen-like buttons, like in Star Trek. Either way, if it had buttons, nothing was lit up, and I didn't know what to press. I tried staring through the crystal in the centre, but just saw a very distorted version of Jake.

I then took a moment to clean the rest of the gunk off, then flicked the crystal instead. "I think this is the data device Vorpal said he was going to give me," I said, but the more I examined it, the more obscure it got. "Maybe not..."

Suddenly, a small light in the centre of the crystal lit up, which startled me and made me drop it, and I backed away from it. A second later, a strange, bluish image popped up, and it sort of looked like Vorpal. The image, or hologram, or whatever it was, flickered and became clear.

"Cool," I said, staring in awe of the tiny device. "Just like in Star Wars..."

"Lauren," the hologram version of Vorpal began, "by this point you have no doubt finished eating, which is good, because you're going to need your energy. Finding your way to the docking bay will be no easy task, but if you're smart and patient, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. Unfortunately, other than walking there yourself, there is no easier way of getting there. There is nothing more I can do to aid you any further; I have given you everything you'll need. The rest is up to you. Included is a map of Valhalla that you can view and manipulate, though I have included more thorough details between your cell and the docking bay. There are thousands of docking bays, and thousands of ships, but I have detailed the fastest route to the closest with a Z-class shuttle."

Vorpal's image then flickered away, then seconds later, was replaced with a picture of Valhalla. For now, the ship just rotated slowly, and remembering how a lot of the control panels worked around here, I stuck my paw in. Much to my amazement, when I pressed my forefinger down, not into something solid but as if imagining I was touching something solid, it was like my fingertip latched onto a piece of the image, and I was now able to manipulate it. I first spun the ship around, then around sideways.

"Cool," I said, and Jake crawled closer, captivated by the glowing image of Valhalla.

Suddenly, though, both Jake and I were startled when the image quickly vanished, and Vorpal reappeared. "The device will respond to voice recognition, though it understands English far less than our language. At any rate, I advise you study your route carefully before venturing forward, because if you get caught, I can assure you, you won't get a second chance. This will likely be the last time you ever hear my voice again, so I pray you will have a safe, and mostly uneventful journey. Take care, and good luck."

Vorpal's image then vanished for one last time, and my heart sank a little.

"You okay?" Jake asked, approaching me from behind. He just rubbed my shoulders.

"Yeah," I said. "Despite everything, I think I just might miss him a little bit. But I'll be glad when this is all over."

Jake then gave me a squeeze. "Me too."

After staring at the device for a short while longer, I tapped it again, trying to figure out how to turn on the map. I settled with saying the word, "map," and sure enough, the image of Valhalla appeared once more. I poked my paw in it again, trying to figure out how to manipulate the thing, and where I was. But in a ship so huge, and with a brig so huge, it was almost impossible. But I said, "current location," and it managed to find my cell easily enough. It was then, after zooming in - it works similar to zooming on photographs or websites on an iPhone, using your fingers - I saw the amazing detail programmed in, and a red line suggesting where I go. Didn't look too hard.

It led me down a few hallways of the brig, and to the elevator, or turbo lift, the one I think Jake and I were taken to when we'd first arrived. Either way, it led up for a long distance, and the red line would take us through various corridors I'd only visited once (upon arrival), and eventually, the docking bay. I could only assume it was within the military sector, though I couldn't really tell. It made sense that there was a civilian docking bay, though I couldn't imagine the people could just take a ship and fly about. There was probably restrictions on that...though all of that was beside the point.

And, of course, the Z-class ship I was supposed to take was at the farthest end of the docking bay, nowhere near the entrance. I would probably run across dozens of aliens in there, though how many of them would be military personnel, I also didn't know. Hopefully very few. With any luck, most of the aliens there would be regular people just doing their jobs, and wouldn't really know how to react upon seeing such a strange, alien beast running around.

After getting a good idea of where to go, I showed Jake, and we tried to memorize which direction to go in, myself trying to visualize exactly what the corridors looked like. I knew very well what they looked like in the brig, but elsewhere could be entirely different. I imagined elsewhere on the ship, the walls looks somewhat more complete. Such as in the residential sector, though I wouldn't have to be going through there. Not unless things went seriously awry, which I probably didn't need to worry about. Hopefully.

"Vorpal taught me a bit of their language," I told the Doberman. "For what it's worth. So if they have things marked, I might be able to navigate that way."

Jake just continued to stare intently at the holographic, 3-dimentional map. "Hopefully we won't have to take any detours," he said, transfixed by the floating image. Finally he looked over at me. "How're we getting out of this cell?"

"I think Vorpal is going to send someone to retrieve us, and we're, um...supposed to subdue him."

Jake just kept staring at me. "You mean I'm supposed to subdue him."

"Uh. Yeah, I guess so."

Jake then made a sort of concentrating face, like he was focusing on the moment, trying to envision how he was going to do that. "Shouldn't be too hard," he said. "I just..."

"If you're ready for it, maybe it won't be so hard. You could disarm him!" I didn't know anything about fighting, other than Jake was amazing at it. "Or you could hide right next to the door, and when he walks in to get me, you jump him from behind, like in the movies."

"Except this isn't a movie."

I frowned. "I know it's not a movie."

"Well when's the guard coming?"

I shrugged. "I guess around the same time they normally came at. Vorpal probably doesn't want them to think anything's off, you know?"

"Well if that's the case, we don't have a whole lot of time."

Very quickly, I pocketed the data device inside Jake's hoodie, it apparently turning off when I grabbed it. The two of us then got up, and I could feel the tension in our tiny cell. Soon the soldier would come, and Jake would have to kick the shit out of him, quickly and noiselessly. I wasn't sure what exactly it took to set off alarms on Valhalla, so hopefully it wouldn't take one punch to the gut. Hopefully, we could lock the alien in our cell with no way out, or better yet, with no way to contact anyone outside. What I was hoping most for, though, was that I wouldn't have to shoot the poor alien.

"Our best bet is to catch him off guard," said Jake. Perhaps he was rethinking my hide-behind-the-door plan. "If you draw him in...maybe he'll be so focused on you, he won't notice me."

I had to say something. "That was my plan."

"I never said it wasn't a good plan, I just told you this isn't the movies."

The dog had a point. "I like movies," I whined, though that had nothing to do with it.

Jake, who was still only wearing a pair of boxers, glanced over at me, frowning a bit, then softened up. He held out his arms and drew me in close, hugging me tightly. "I can't believe we're actually going to get out of here. I was so...ready for death." The dog sounded ashamed of that fact.

"I know," I said, giving him a loving squeeze. Jake and I remained like this for a long while, my paws running through his short black fur, all up along his muscular back. My face was plastered against his chest, and every so often I'd bury my nose into either his chest, or the side of his chest, close to his armpit, breathing in heavy, intoxicating breaths.

Jake got his paws under the hoodie and began rubbing my back that way. "I haven't showered in over a week," mused the dog, no doubt at the obsessive way I smelled his fur. "You sure you want to be doing that?"

"Compared to the smells I can produce," I said, re-burying my nose in his left armpit, "this is nothing."

"Even still..."

Despite what Jake kept saying, I loved his canid scent. And with it infused within his hoodie, I was happy I could continue smelling it, even if he wasn't an inch away from me.

And so for now, the dog and I just held on to each other, anxiously waiting for the guard to arrive. Frankly, I could have stayed like this forever, but in the end, I was eager to leave this damned ship behind. Though I've had dozens of extremely painful memories in my life, what they did to me aboard Valhalla was by far the worst. Even worse, I think, than the one guy I was with in my last year of high school, who used to beat me, and not in the consensual way. I think he was in prison now.

After a short while, my and Jake's heartbeats pounding together through our chests, we finally decided to part, I think having the mutual feeling the guard would be here at any moment. No sooner had our dark-furred chests peeled away, the heavy metal door grinded open loudly, startling both Jake and I.

"Shit," I said. So much for the plan.

The alien then shouted something, pointing directly at me, but instead of going with him, I backed away. My heart was racing, but I was confident Jake wouldn't let the alien touch me. But of course I was startled once again to see the alien suddenly strike Jake across the face, shout out something more, then snarl at me, coming closer. After crying out the canine's name, I glanced back up at the large soldier, actually a little bit scared now. I tensed the fake muscles in my right arm, ready to attack, my left paw gripping tightly at the arm.

Fortunately, Jake had recovered quickly enough to land a sound blow against the alien's ribs, and as he cried out, the dog swiftly hammered his footpaw at the side of his chitinous leg. The alien fell immediately to his knee, and Jake managed to expertly disarm the brute and knock him against the back of the head, felling him. The alien just groaned and twitched a bit, but fortunately wasn't getting up. And apparently not setting off any alarms, either. But to be on the safe side, Jake searched the alien's person for any sort of device.

My heart, of course, was pounding, the adrenaline still flowing through my veins. My paws were shaking, and I was sure as hell ready for another fight, even though I wanted badly to avoid it. I suppose after we escaped, I would need this rush to get us through it.

"Holy shit," I said, letting out a long breath. "You're fucking amazing."

Jake was panting a bit, then threw down the weapon. "You ready?" he asked.

I glanced at the dog, then sighed heavily. "Yeah."

And for the first time, Jake and I walked out of our cell together, very cautiously and very nervously looking both ways, to see if any others were around. And so far, at either end of the red corridors, the coast was clear. When we turned, I pressed a button - mostly a guess - to shut the door behind us, and when a red light flickered on, I knew it was locked.

"Think he'll be able to get out?" I said, looking over my shoulder to Jake.

"I don't know, but I suppose in ten minutes or so, we'll find out."

After a moment, just to get our bearings, I faced down the longest part of the corridor and took in a deep breath. "C'mon," I said. "Let's go."

And so Jake and I - Jake following me, which I wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with - slowly and carefully made our way through the dark, steamy tunnels of Valhalla's brig, making all the correct turns and proper stops, more especially when other Aknarii were around. It was a slow, horribly tense expedition, but it was so far, so good.

At least, until we turned the final corner before the turbo lift. That, apparently, was a popular place for Aknarii to hang out, since as soon as I turned the corner, no more than twenty feet away from us was at least five aliens. I nearly cursed out loud and leapt back, heart racing a thousand times faster than it already had been, and I just plastered myself against the wall, shoving Jake into it beside me.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," I said to myself with every heavy breath, and I listened intently. I think Jake wanted to know what exactly I'd seen, but I could hardly explain it now. "They're there," I said quickly. "Shit..."

"Did they see you?"

"I don't know." I was speaking very rapidly, then listened some more. It didn't sound like they were coming this way, but after a moment, I think I heard footsteps. Fortunately, they weren't the brightest aliens - perhaps they weren't even soldiers; I didn't get a good look at them - and called out, I think wanting to know who was here. They approached slow, but I could definitely hear them now. Without much thinking, I pulled up the right sleeve of Jake's large hoodie, but the second they appeared from around the corner, Jake cried out and attacked, startling even me.

And I just watched as Jake's heavy fist slammed into the side of the closest Aknar's head, knocking him over, then in a very fast and fluid motion, spun and kicked another with his heel in the side of his ribs. After the second fell, Jake held the third by the head and slammed it down on his hard knee, crying out as the loud crack sounded loudly. Unfortunately, down the hall, a couple more just watched in surprise and horror - no doubt just maintenance workers, or something of the like - and though Jake ran forward and took out the fourth, the fifth alien ran.

"Jake!" I cried loudly, that awesome rush of adrenaline once more surging through me, "get down!" I then held out my right arm, pulled up the sleeve and tensed the hidden muscles. In an instant, I felt cracks form all up my prosthetic, and within seconds the fur had totally split apart, then twisted and morphed into the rest of the complex mechanics of my weaponized arm. And though Jake stared at me in disbelief, he quickly got down. And as soon as he did, the incredible warmth I felt throughout my whole right arm suddenly spiked, and I fired off a rapid burst of energy. Less than a second later, I felt the floor and the walls shake a little as a small explosion knocked the fleeing alien into the adjacent wall, hopefully just knocking him out cold. I didn't know if he was running to set off an alarm, or just running out of fear, but either way, I couldn't risk him getting away.

When I finally lowered my arm, Jake was covering his head and staring at me it total astonishment. And for some reason, I didn't revert my arm back into an arm.

"What...the fuck was that?" asked the bewildered dog, finally getting up and moving toward me.

I pulled my right sleeve up a bit, then finally got my arm back, fur and all. It was a flawless transformation, which seemed to astound Jake just as much. I wasn't really sure how to answer his question, though, at least not simply. The obvious answer was my arm turned into a gun, but I think that would only spawn more questions. Questions I didn't really have time to answer.

"Did you know you could do that?"

I nodded modestly, and even blushed a little. "Yeah," I said. "Vorpal did it. He made it, I mean. For me."

"Well shit," commented Jake, and after just checking out my arm for a moment longer, we finally snapped back into action, as if spontaneously re-realizing what situation we were in.

With no idea how much time had actually passed, Jake and I finally made our way to the turbo lift, after stepping over a thankfully unconscious alien, and I had to do a bit of translating to remember which buttons to press. But at long last, the two of us constantly looking around to make sure no one else was coming, the lift doors whizzed open, and hurriedly we climbed in. After the doors shut, Jake and I took a moment to breathe.

"This is insane," Jake said aloud, leaning back against the glass part of the lift. It was just mechanical things behind it for now, a part of the wall.

"We should get going," I said, making toward the control panel.

"Just...wait a second," replied the dog, holding out a paw toward me. "Can we just rest a moment? This is a lot to take in..."

I assumed he was referring to my fake arm. I just stood in front of the strong, tall dog, looking up at him, wondering if I should hold onto him, or just keep my paws to myself for now.

"You okay?" I decided to ask.

Jake shook his head. "No, I'm fine," he said. "It's just...well, shit, Lauren, you've got a fucking gun for an arm."

"It's not a gun for an arm, it's an arm that's also a gun... There's a big difference. Besides..." I then held up my right arm, showing Jake just how realistic it was, back in its usual furry form. "You'd never know it was a weapon."

Jake held up his paw and linked fingers with mine, and I felt every bit of warmth emanating from his pads. "It's just...crazy, that's all. I thought they'd just, I dunno, sewn your arm back on. Here they were turning you into a weapon."

I shook my head, then turned and pressed a couple buttons, taking us up toward the Transportation Sector, as I so aptly named it. Soon we were shooting rapidly upward. "They weren't turning me into a weapon, Jake. They were using me, experimenting on me, to find a way to turn their own men into weapons, those who are otherwise incapable of serving in their military. Once they got every bit of data they could from me, you and I would both be dead. Well...I would be. They'd probably experiment on you, too."

Jake thought about that for a moment. "Maybe so...but my point is, it's...kind of frightening, okay? I mean...you shot a blast of energy right over my head. What if the thing goes off when we're, you know...sleeping together?"

"That would imply I'm going to sleep with you again," I said, crossing my arms. Jake just held me from behind.

"Then I'll have to make you."

This was hardly the time nor place for such talk, much less such activities, but it was a refreshing change of pace. I just smiled and held the Doberman's paws as the view outside the window changed from that of blurry ship parts to dirt, then trees, then treetops. And a second later, our playful talk came to an immediate halt, along with our ride.

"Oh fuck," I cried, balancing myself as the lights flickered. For some reason, the turbo lift came to an immediate halt, and we were apparently stranded here. "Do you...think they found us? I don't hear any alarms."

But of course, I'd spoken much too soon, for a couple moments later, a faint alarm started to blare, and our cozy little lift was now flashing at us.

"Shit, what do we do?" I cried out, staring at the treetops. They were so close, and we were just barely above them.

"What can we do? They're either waiting for us on either end, or are just going to leave us here until they retrieve us."

Suddenly, a loud hissing sounded, and I smelled something...familiar. "J-Jake, they're...I think they're gassing us!"

Jake's fists were clenched tight. "I really felt like we were going to fucking make it..." he said angrily.

Staring out over the vast treetops of this mighty forest, my heart was heavy and sorrowful, like watching your favourite character in a TV show die, except the only one who was going to die in this case was me. They were filling the chamber with some sort of gas - I didn't even know they could do that, and I wondered if Vorpal did, either - and within moments Jake and I would be unconscious on the floor, waiting either to be put back in our cells, or worse, killed on the spot. But if I knew the Director, he would make sure I was awake before killing either of us, and would probably start with Jake. No doubt, they felt they had to gas us in order to keep me from using my gun. And it was then an idea came to me.

"Jake," I said, holding a paw out toward him, "get down, and cover your face."

"What..?"

"Just do it!" I cried, rolling up my right sleeve. Jake knew what I was doing, and probably knew what I was planning. I then stood back as far as I could, in front of Jake, and held my transformed arm toward the glass, trembling a bit. But after a few heavy breaths, I started to feel the sedative taking effect, and so fired my weapon immediately.

In a moment, I was blown back against the wall, and Jake with me, the wind getting knocked right out of me, and a surprising breeze flowing into the lift. Luckily, not much glass had shattered inward, and hopefully it didn't hit anybody below. When I finally recovered enough to stand, feeling a bit dizzy, I grabbed Jake's paw and said, "c'mon," then ran toward the broken window. I think if I'd been any less woozy, I wouldn't have gone anywhere near the edge of the lift, but since my judgement was clearly impaired, I instead found myself tumbling downward through the thick foliage of the tall, alien trees.

At some point I'd lost Jake, and was now receiving a face full of twigs, branches and leaves, scratching me and my body and even my gun-arm as I fell quickly through, trying desperately to grab onto something a bit more solid. Fortunately, my tumble through the treetops had slowed my descent, and after hitting a much larger branch, which sent me flying elsewhere with no breath, I did eventually land on another fair-sized branch, which apparently stopped me entirely.

My side was in extreme pain, and I imagined I had some broken ribs, though I heard people with broken ribs don't breath very well. That wasn't to say I was breathing perfectly, but considering what'd just happened, if I didn't recover soon, then I could probably conclude at least a few of my left ribs were broken.

But for now, I simply lay on the branch, however many hundreds of feet above solid ground, trying my best to recover. I was on my back now, at least, having found turning around a much harder task than I wanted. But despite that, after a couple minutes I was back to breathing at least somewhat normally, big heavy breaths, feeling somewhat safe in the thick treetops of this nameless forest. My side was killing me, but I think nothing was broken, at least not significantly. Either way, I wanted to wait a bit longer before moving, which of course meant somehow scaling the tree downward, not an enjoyable prospect. Of course, it also concerned me Jake wasn't nearby, so far as I could tell, though admittedly I didn't get a good look around.

All I could hear was a strange rustling of wind blowing through the leaves, and various forms of wildlife chirping and hissing away, from where I didn't know. But no groaning, or crying, or shouting, and most importantly, no calling of my name. But as thoughts of Jake falling to his death began flooding into my mind, I started to move my body painfully, looking around through the leaves and shooting pain, down and all around me, but still I saw nothing. And so I made my way toward the centre of the tree, and with rapid, panicked breaths, began to climb down.

It was extremely slow at first, but as I became more numb to the pain, or perhaps just more used to it, I picked it up a little. Still no Jake, and I was plenty worried. Worried enough, anyway, to keep me going, to find his body in whatever condition it may have been in. I figured worst case scenario, I killed Jake when I pulled him from the lift, and would find his body lying somewhere on the ground, bloody, bruised, and lifeless. And if that was the case, I would continue on. Actually, the worst case scenario was not finding his body at all, then being forced to decide whether or not I should look for him, or continue on without him. I imagined that would be an impossible decision, and feared that was the most likely case. Of course...I suppose it was also possible he, like me, survived, and was currently running the exact same thoughts through his mind, though without the data device, he could hardly continue on. Though I doubt that would stop him.

Anyway, I was extremely focused on descending this enormous tree, so much so it didn't even occur to me that I was crying nearly the whole way down. The thought of losing Jake was extremely frightening, but even more so now that we were so close to getting out of here. I had no idea how long it'd taken me to reach the bottom, but somewhere around six feet off the grassy ground, I lost my footing and fell the rest of the way, hurting my ankle as I did.

I cried out in pain, my cheek fur damp with tears, but I forced myself up. I looked around desperately for my boyfriend, but saw only a few approaching aliens. Scared, I rolled up my right sleeve and turned my arm into a gun, aiming it at the aliens, swinging it wildly between one and the other.

"Stay back!" I cried madly. "Get the fuck away from me!"

The aliens did what I said, and none of them looked armed. In fact, they looked more curious than anything, and a couple of them pushed their young ones behind them, but I wasn't too concerned with that at the moment.

"Jake!" I cried, looking around, but of course I didn't see my Doberman anywhere. "God damn it," I snarled, falling to my knees. My heart sank heavily and I clutched my tired, aching chest, and of course I was trembling uncontrollably. This was it, Lauren. This was it. You had to choose. The guards will be coming for you, and there's only two choices now. Run, or stay. Abandon Jake, or risk your life trying to find him. The answer seems obvious, I know, but at that point, I was also considering the rest of Earth, too.

There was no way the Director would let something like this happen again, not under his watch, especially if he lets me live. But assuming he didn't, it wasn't like Vorpal could just do the same with another fur. This was it. I wouldn't be saving the Earth myself, but if I didn't get the hell off Valhalla, no one would be. But of course, that wasn't the obvious answer.

The obvious answer was to stick around and try to find Jake. I had to stay with the one I loved, right? But with the fate of Earth hanging in the balance - forgive the melodrama - how could I afford to stay here any longer?

I then cried out again and slammed my gun into the soft earth beneath me, not particularly concerned with how bad that probably was for it. "Jake!" I called out again, somehow managing to get back up onto my footpaws. When I looked around, the aliens were still watching, inching that much closer to me. The pain in my heart greatly outweighed the shooting pain in my footpaw.

"Fuck off!" I suddenly growled, firing a blast at one of the aliens, purposely hitting the tree next to him. The energy blew large and small splinters of wood all over the place, though fortunately I'd hardly even dented the tree. Not enough to topple it, anyway, the result of which I imagined would be disastrous.

When I looked back up at the aliens, they were apparently startled by something and simultaneously looked behind them, which made me nervous. Within seconds of their noticing something, each one who had a kid grabbed it and took off, and those who didn't took off even quicker.

"Shit," I said to myself, but before I could force myself to move, up from behind the small hill, and from between the large trees, emerged at least a dozen, if not way more behind them, soldiers or guards, each one no doubt coming after me. And for now, I just watched them approach, at least, until one raised its gun at me.

A second later, I moved dizzyingly fast, the whole motion a complete blur. But as I moved, I felt an incredible heat tear at the left side of my face, then another rush by the other side. At long last, though it was only a second, I plastered myself against the tree, breathing heavily and shaking.

"Holy fuck," I cried, eyes torn wide open. I felt the tree behind me shake a couple times and splinters scatter past my footpaws. "They're fucking shooting at me," I said aloud, inexplicably surprised at this. I then heard the aliens shouting something, which I think meant they were closing in. I had to do something, and I had to do it fast. Running, at this point, was out of the question, especially since they were apparently trying to kill me. I had to fight back...

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I kept saying to myself over and over, trying desperately to work up the strength to poke my head around the side of the large tree and attack. But all I kept imagining was my head getting blown off as soon as it emerged. How could I do this? How? I growled loudly to myself, eyes now slammed shut, taking long deep breaths. Sweat was pouring down my back and my legs were far beyond exhausted. I could hardly move. All I wanted to do was collapse, and when I thought about it for a second, that would probably be my only way out of this alive. Not unless by some divine miracle I killed every alien and managed to take off before even more arrive, which I imagined wouldn't take long. None of these plans seemed safe, and I sure as hell didn't want to go back. If I went back, Jake would be killed, or at least taken and experimented on. And that I couldn't allow.

After a few more heavy breaths, I finally reopened my eyes. Okay, Lauren... I tried to look as determined as possible, though I was certain I'd already pissed myself - fortunately I wasn't wearing pants. "Okay, skunk," I said aloud. "You dumb, stupid, god-damn dead skunk..." I then sighed and began to turn around, moving achingly slow and yet horribly fast at the same time, making my way - and particularly, my arm - around the tree, muscles tensed and ready to fire.

And in the moment I saw an alien approaching, I fired a blast of my body's own energy, enhanced, amplified, and focused by this thing on my arm. In just a second, long enough for me to see the horrified look on his face before the glowing energy hit him, the alien burst into a messy pile of legs, gore, and half a torso. I think his arms were still largely intact, though I hardly had time to look for them. Luckily, the others were so surprised by that sudden attack from little old me, I managed to fire off another before finding cover behind that large tree once more. Except this time after finding cover, I burst forward, then darted to the left to get behind a fresher tree, being led only by adrenaline and fright. Somehow I'd survived another quick volley of weapons fire, but I wouldn't last long. I'd killed two of their soldiers, at least one for sure. They weren't just capturing some small, furry alien now. They were capturing a weapon.

When there was another pause in the weapons fire, I went in for another attack, but much to my dismay, the aliens were far more brilliant than any foe I'd faced in any video game. When I fired my weapon, one of the soldiers dodged, and with shocking ease. He cried out and fired back at me, which I narrowly avoided, and I was lucky enough to at least have been able to hit the ground beneath him, toppling the alien, but of course there was at least ten others to replace him, probably more. I fired my weapon again, blowing another unfortunate soldier to bits, then rolled unbelievably to avoid certain death.

Suddenly, one alien started to rush me. "Oh shit!" I cried, lifting my arm and just barely managing to blow off his left arm. I got up quickly, then another began to rush. I was feeling extremely tired by this point, which explained my slight hesitation and shaky aim before firing once more. I managed to strike the soldier in the right shoulder, and though I'd clearly caused serious injury, it wasn't enough to destroy anything. It was enough to stop him, anyway, or at least slow him down. Regardless, I was far less concerned with that soldier than I was with the other ones coming after me. Though I fired another blast, knocking one alien back, another got right up to me, and though I pointed my gun at his stomach, he'd unfortunately managed to kick me hard in the side of the leg.

I cried out in immense pain and fell immediately, then suddenly felt a hard blow to my face, somewhere at the side, and after I fell back, past the pain I felt the blood trickling down my cheek. I think the soldier had hit me with his gun, because it was bleeding a lot, and hurt even more. He then shouted something at me I didn't understand and stomped on my chest, knocking the wind out of me, then pointed his gun right in my face. This time, I did piss myself. And if I wasn't lying on my back, I think I would have sprayed, too...not on purpose. He then shouted something again, pressing the warm end of his gun right against my face, where he'd hit me, but was stopped by a bigger alien.

The smaller alien, the one with its foot on me, began to argue with what I assumed was his superior, I think suggesting something like I didn't deserve to live, not after what I'd done. Most of that sentence I made up, but given the context, I think it was fairly accurate. Either way, I think the leader wanted to take me back to the Director - his name I did recognize - while the others, who'd gathered around, just wanted me dead. Apparently their orders were "dead or alive," or more specifically, "alive, but kill him if you can't capture him. And his friend, too."

And though for a short while I was rooting for the leader, it seemed he was quick to give up, and probably just as eager. I guess he wasn't one of those tough guys who would complete their tasks to the best of their ability no matter the cost. He seemed pretty laid back, and was probably happy to have seen some action. Probably my kind of guy, under different circumstances, though of course this was hardly the time to consider such things. Especially since a second later, I was grabbed by my white head-fur and pulled up to my footpaws, which made me cry out, then shoved back against a tree. The others were cheering, I think, probably begging this guy to kill me. The leader had backed off, and I guess the honour of killing me belonged to the one who managed to take me down.

But with the alien's claw around my neck, weapon held loosely at his side, it was too easy for him to forget I still had mine on me. I squeezed the "firing muscle," making sure to aim it away from my footpaws, blasting a huge hole in his leg, which caused him to scream and fall over. Freed, I held out my weapon to the others, and they held theirs out to me. I think they wanted to kill me, but at the same time, wanted to make me suffer, too. They just had that look in their beady, amber eyes. Unfortunately, one was eager to end this, and so fired. I thrust my body to the left, for what it was worth, receiving a deep flesh wound to my right shoulder, and I fell.

The wound, while not major, certainly burned like hell, the perfect accessory to the sharp pain in my leg and my cheek. I was then picked up by whoever had fired and pushed back into the tree again, only this time I was punched hard in the gut, and though I was certain my navel piercing was still in there, it sure as hell felt like it'd been torn straight out. Needless to say, I wasn't left standing after that, at least, not without the help of some angry, overeager soldiers. One then struck me across the face, where the other one had hit me, and after I fell once more, I was kicked in the ribs. I cried out loudly, not even thinking about firing my gun anymore, since all my mind seemed to be focused on was not dying.

But as luck would have it, I didn't die. In fact, moments after receiving that violent blow to my ribs, I heard a horrible growl and wicked snarling, which sent a cold chill up my spine. Though it scared me shitless, I was at least glad to see whatever had produced that awful noise had also distracted the aliens, which meant it wasn't here to hurt me. Though...with the Aknarii, I really couldn't be certain. It could have been some vicious alien animal set free, ready to attack and tear apart anything it spotted first, trained to kill. However, seconds later, I discovered the true source of such an amazingly scary sound.

Almost immediately after the group of aliens turned, I saw my dear, furious Jake fall from a tree branch, smashing his footpaw into the face of the furthest soldier. In his paw, I just barely noticed a small glare, no doubt from that of a weapon - he'd probably picked it up from one of the soldiers I'd killed, or perhaps disarmed one along the way. Or more probably, took it from the soldier he just took out.

With no idea where he'd come from, I was beyond happy to see him. He moved with such speed, such ferocious grace, striking each soldier with powerful precision. The way his body twisted and turned as he dodged and avoided attacks was an incredible sight, like something from The Matrix, each one of his counterattacks extremely deadly. Be it with his paws or that mysterious blade, each strike seemed like a killing blow, though frankly he was moving so fast, he probably got in way more punches and kicks and slashes than I realized.

Nevertheless, in just a few short minutes, the whole team had fallen, and my furious boyfriend stood above them vengefully. He then glanced at me, the hate and anger still clear in his eyes, and for just a second, he really frightened me. But after he snapped back to reality, his eyes and face softened up, and the almost-naked Doberman came to me immediately, holding me close as I cried into his shoulder.

I was scared, hurt, surprised, happy and proud of my Doberman, arms held tightly around him as I buried my face deep into his shoulder, and for the time being, he just held me close. I was shaking and crying, blood and tears mashing into his fur, but neither of us cared. And I probably swore twenty times before the two of us finally got up, though after the attack, my left leg felt as if it was broken, though it probably wasn't. That's what Jake said, anyway, but regardless, he bent down so I could climb onto his back.

"Thank you," I finally managed to say, gripping tightly. The dark fur on his back was warm against my heavy chest. I would no doubt remember and cherish this memory forever, the dog carrying me as he ran through this strange, alien forest. He was so strong, and so brave, and though I was yet to ask him what the hell had taken him so long, I instead kept my maw shut and enjoyed the moment as best I could, for it seemed we weren't going to get many more of these between here and Earth. And that was assuming we even got back to Earth.

At this point, neither of us really knew where we were going, and had to ignore the few aliens we encountered, enormously curious to check us out. No doubt they had never experienced anything quite so interesting in their daily lives - fighting and shooting and explosions. And, of course, had never seen an alien species before, and given what Vorpal had told me, didn't even know they existed on this strange planet they thought their government was terraforming. Regardless, none of these civilian aliens were hostile, and probably didn't speak English. I imagined only the ones who actually knew what was happening on Earth - the ones who were studying and watching it - had learned our language, and these common folk would never have had the opportunity.

At long last, the two of us approached the edge of this great forest, but saw nothing in the way of an exit. How on earth did these aliens even get in here? After a moment, Jake hurriedly ran along the wall, hoping desperately to find a doorway, or something, that would lead us out of here. But we found none, though through some trees I spotted a lake with several aliens around it, and I think some children playing in it. I instructed Jake to approach them, and though he was hesitant, he eventually did.

The aliens just backed off cautiously, but I held out my paws, trying to show them I was harmless. When Jake put me down, I limped forward, paws out, constantly telling them "it's okay." Of course, they had no idea what I was saying, but I think understood from my body language and tone in my voice.

"Where's the closest exit?" I asked, looking hopefully at them. "Exit," I repeated. "A door? I need to get out of here."

They just stared at me curiously, and the children laughed.

I then tried to make the motions of the doors with my paws as I said the word, but still they didn't understand. Then in a very bold, stupid move, I tried to say it in their language. I sounded ridiculous, and the aliens just laughed even more at me, the parents included. I tried again and again, knowing their word for "door" in my head, but unable to replicate the proper sounds. It was the most frustrating thing ever, more so because I knew they knew I was trying to communicate with them.

"C'mon, Lauren, we don't have time for this," said Jake, but I wanted just a little more time.

I tried again, feeling like I was getting closer to saying it, but probably way off. That is, until one of the children stepped forward and asked, "Door?" in his language, repeating my motions.

"Yes!" I cried, and the parents just watched now, I think surprised by this. "Jesus Christ, yes." I nodded and tried that word again, quickly realizing I was way off before.

The boy then explained to me where the closest exit was, very carefully. I figured it was too much to try to ask how to get to the shuttle bay from there, but I thanked the child profusely and quickly took off, reclaiming my position on Jake's back - my ankle was still incredibly sore.

"Fuck," I said, sighing heavily. "That was a task..."

"So where are we going?" asked the dog.

"Head, uh...left. Go left, north. We'll eventually see a path, which will lead us toward an exit. From there I think we'll be okay, if we don't run into any other soldiers."

"I'll take care of them if we do."

I gave Jake a hearty squeeze, and would have certainly kissed the back of his neck if I wasn't bouncing around so much from his near running.

Finally we reached the path, and in a few short minutes, I thanked whatever gods were watching us now that there weren't any guards watching this exit, though just about anything could be behind. Nevertheless, feeling we'd wasted enough time just trying to find out where this exit was, Jake went on through, discovering it was another lift of some kind, though I don't think it was quite the same as the turbo lift. Either way, the dog put me down and I closely examined each button, trying to remember which floor we wanted to get to the shuttle bay. Finally I pressed one, hoping I'd gotten it right.

And finally, a moment later, we were able to relax for just a moment.

"This is fucking crazy," I said, leaning back against the wall of the lift, now inside it.

"Hopefully they don't stop this lift, too," said the dog. "Then where would we go?"

I hadn't thought of that, turning my relaxation into tension. "Well hopefully they don't know where we are yet. I can only assume if Vorpal was willing to help us this much, he wouldn't have put any trackers or anything in my fake arm."

"That was pretty incredible, by the way."

"Huh?"

"I saw you fighting those guards. I mean...you missed most of your shots, but still. It was pretty incredible. That gun packs a hell of a lot of punch."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly controlling the energy output. That would require a lot more practice. I can fire the stupid thing, which was a task enough, but unless I only want to fire off a dozen or so shots before being too weak to even stand, I'd have to learn how to control just how much energy I use for each shot."

"Still amazing. Stuff like this doesn't even exist on Earth."

I shrugged. "So what the hell took you so long to get there, huh? I was scared shitless. Thought you died."

"Well maybe you have tons of experience falling through trees, but my head wasn't in the best condition after slamming into a thick branch. I heard weapons fire and continued down as fast as I could, but shit... Why the hell did you think leaping out of an elevator was the best option?"

I frowned. "Well it was either that or be gassed and taken back. I didn't really see a whole lot of options."

"You couldn't have just let the gas out, instead of pulling us along with it?"

"I was desperate!" I shouted. "Besides, we're here now. We're back on track. It all worked out."

Jake sighed. "Yeah, I suppose. But you know it could have ended a hell of a lot worse. Either of us could have died before even reaching the ground."

"I don't know why we're still discussing this, Jake. We're both alive, and we managed to escape. For now."

The dog shrugged. "Yeah, fine. Fair enough. End of discussion."

I scratched my left arm, staring into the faint reflection of myself in the side of the lift. Blushing a bit, I looked up at Jake. "You were pretty incredible, too, though."

"Oh?"

"You were really brave. Once again, you saved my life. Though you weren't exactly fast enough to save me from a savage beating."

Jake rolled his eyes a little. "Are you doing okay?"

I rubbed my sore, raw cheek tenderly for a moment. "My ribs still feel like they're broken, and my leg and ankle hurts, and my face feels like the skins been peeled off...but otherwise, I guess I'm okay. I'm also tired and hungry, but that's from firing my gun. Is your head all right?"

"Well it isn't bleeding, but I've got kind of a splitting headache."

"I'm sorry," I said, moving forward and hugging the Doberman.

Jake smiled and rubbed my back. "It's okay. Just promise me if you ever do it again, give me a bit more warning."

A moment later, the lift doors finally opened, and we were forced to part. Together, Jake and I cautiously poked our heads out into the corridor, then continued southward, in the direction I believed the shuttle bay would be. As I limped along with Jake, who wasn't limping, I pulled out the strange data device and said "map," and was graced by the presence of a three-dimensional, holographic map. I studied it quickly, heart racing with the constant expectancy that soldiers would come pouring from every corner. But we were lucky so far, more so because we didn't encounter many other aliens, and those we did we were easily able to avoid. When I finally put the data device away, I was confident we were headed in the right direction. It was just a matter, now, of making it there in once piece.

Jake and I were making reasonably good time, but no doubt there were already alarms going off somewhere on this ship, and they were probably searching for us right now. But I think the dog and I were lucky to have avoided as much trouble as we had, though it became noticeably more difficult the closer to the shuttle bay we got. More and more aliens were around, and more importantly, aliens with weapons. I began to wonder if even these soldiers knew what was happening, since clearly their job was protecting Valhalla on the inside. If they saw us, would they be equally as curious to know what Jake and I were as the civilians in the forest before? Would they know to fire on us, or capture us? Of course it was a risk neither of us could take, but still, it would make things a hell of a lot easier if I knew these particular aliens weren't after us. Most of them looked pretty casual, anyway.

Nevertheless, the two of us managed to make every proper turn and pause for an appropriate amount of time, avoiding detection just barely. At some point, I felt almost like Sam Fisher, you know, from Splinter Cell, except without all the cool gear. Well, I suppose my arm was pretty cool, but all I was wearing was Jake's hoodie, and of course he was only wearing his boxers.

Unfortunately, though, unlike in Splinter Cell, there wasn't any way to reload after making a mistake. And having said that, stepping out in front of a group of aliens - we didn't stand there and stare long enough to determine whether or not they were soldiers - was a huge mistake. And we were so close to the shuttle bay, too. Despite ducking back around the corner, after hearing a bit of a commotion, Jake and I shared a glance, knowing we had to act.

Naturally wanting to kill as little as possible, I stepped out in front of the small group - five or so - and felt my right arm split apart and heat up. I was tired as hell, but hopefully had enough energy left in me for at least one more shot. As so as the group stared at me for a second, before giving them the chance to run, I fired my arm-gun upward at the glowing lights above them.

Though I could feel it wasn't a particularly powerful shot, it was enough to make the light explode and rain shards of glass down on the aliens for a second, distracting them long enough to let Jake rush around the corner and very swiftly knock the group unconscious. He didn't do it all at once, of course, but the dog moved so quickly, it almost seemed that way.

Either way, the aliens were down and out, and while some were still conscious and groaning and writhing in pain, they certainly weren't going anywhere anytime soon. Long enough, anyway, to let Jake and I escape.

With adrenaline pumping once more, creating far more noise than we wanted, the two of us took off down the corridor, myself limping as quickly as I could, passing intersecting hallways without stopping. We didn't have time now to be so careful, and really had no idea if we were being followed. Fortunately no one was firing any guns at us, though I felt like there was a lot of shouting.

A second later, though, my heart sank as I heard a loud alarm begin to blare.

"Fuck!" I cried, for all the good it did me. I saw several aliens rush past our corridor, like they didn't know what was going on.

Jake then grabbed onto my arm. "I'm sorry," he said, then began to run, towing me along.

My leg hurt, which made running very painful, but the dog wasn't giving me any choice. I wanted desperately to just push his paw away so I could run on my own, but I knew neither of us had time for that now. We had to move fast, and unfortunately the fastest way wasn't even on Jake's back, it was being pulled along on a wounded ankle. But despite that, I was still able to direct the dog, who didn't have much of an idea on where he was going.

Every so often he'd have to stop to either shove past or debilitate an alien, armed or not, but eventually we did reach the hangar door.

I entered the appropriate code into the panel, which Vorpal had taught me, while Jake fended off some enemies - I think he had a weapon now, though I wasn't paying too much attention to him. When the doors finally slid open, Jake and I went in, and I hopefully locked them behind me. Unfortunately, when I turned around I quickly discovered that when I was trying to decide which floor to go to, I'd picked the wrong one. Deck 42 was obviously a few decks too high, since I was staring down at the vast hangar floor from far up. Of course, the Z-class shuttlecraft was at the farthest end, and on ground level.

I then heard a powerful banging at the door behind me, which startled both Jake and I, which was our cue to continue.

We went along the high balcony, ignoring the ships parked up here like in a giant parking garage, until we came across a elevating platform, which I wasn't sure how it worked. Since the ships were basically stored along the walls like an enormous shelf, this clearly allowed us to travel to whichever tier we needed to go to, but the controls weren't particularly similar to that of a turbo lift. But with the alarm still blaring, and soldiers no doubt piling into the massive hangar, I didn't have a whole lot of time to figure it out. I just had to go with my gut.

And so I stuck my paw onto the black control panel until a few holographic details lit up, following my paw and my fingertips as I rose it up. I then began to manipulate the holographic controls, both Jake and I holding on tight as I made this strange platform descend roughly toward the next tier, then to the next, then as I saw some soldiers appear down below, I decided to see if this thing could go sideways.

Sure enough, with a sharp twist of my wrist, we managed to avoid getting blown to hell as we jarred to the left, then hurried along the edge of the balcony, still a few levels up from the ground. In just a second, ignoring Jake's angry swearing, the platform slammed to a stop, then rocketed downward until it slammed into the bottom, felling both Jake and I.

We groaned and slowly got up, looking up to see a group of soldiers rushing toward us, their weapons pointed outward. Wasting no time at all, the dog and I took off, sticking as close to the other aliens as possible so as to avoid being shot at. A cowardly move, perhaps, but I really didn't want to die. But just as the Z-class shuttle came into view, so too did the Director with a group of soldiers. Jake and I stopped immediately.

"Fuck," I shouted for the hundredth time, my arm not yet turned into a gun. Jake had his weapon, which I presumed he'd picked off some soldier, but I wasn't sure if he knew how to use it. Evidently, he'd abandoned that blade I'd seen him with earlier, when he saved me in the forest. He had a gun of some kind now, which looked active. Of course, there were a hell of a lot more guns currently pointed toward Jake and I.

"Indeed," said the Director. "What did you hope to accomplish here, I wonder?"

An obvious question, which probably didn't require an actual answer.

"I'm impressed you made it this far on your own," said the alien, "especially after jumping out of a turbo lift. Your actions are nothing but commendable, if not completely futile. But now, as you can see, there are only two ways out of this. We have enough of your DNA and enough data where keeping you alive isn't necessary. Ideal, perhaps, but certainly not necessary. Of course with you alive, our research would go that much more smoothly, but we have hundreds of other test subjects equally eager to help us."

The Director then scoffed at his own words. "We may even find a good use for your friend here. The best way this is going to end for you is if you surrender yourself now and come with me, or I promise there won't be enough left of you to fit into a cold storage container."

I didn't know how big cold storage containers were, but I presumed they weren't particularly large.

"So please, make this easier on all of us and just come along. I may even be able to forgive those men you killed earlier, though these others might not. But they'll stand down if I tell them to."

"What're we going to do, Jake? We going back with them?"

Jake smirked. "No way in hell."

The Director growled a bit. "I'm not going to make this offer again, skunk. You will die here, you must know that."

At this point, it seemed extremely unlikely I'd have much left in me to fire off more than a couple shots, since my legs, despite the pain, were already feeling shaky. And even if Jake knew how to fire his weapon, would he be quick enough to somehow avoid being shot? I imagined he would only be able to take out a few before the aliens finally reacted, and even if every one of my shots hit, there would still be at least a dozen, if not more, aliens untouched and firing upon us.

But it was then I remembered Vorpal mentioning something about a continuous stream, like a beam of energy, instead of just a blast. I hadn't tried that one yet, and despite my lack of energy, I thought it was my best shot. While I didn't know exactly how to go about firing such a beam off, I imagined all I needed to do was to flex the "firing muscles," except instead of pulling it once like firing a pistol, I had to hold it down like firing a chain gun, or a machine gun, or whatever. I wasn't really up on my guns. Either way, I think it would be simple enough, the only problem I could think of was killing myself trying to output more energy than I had in me. Was that even possible? Or was there some sort of failsafe? Maybe it wasn't even physically possible, like I would collapse before I used too much. Hopefully I wouldn't put myself into a coma.

Suddenly, the Director made some motion with his claw and the soldiers stepped forward, but paused when I threw my right arm up. In a second, I turned it back into weapon, then aimed it directly for the Director. Jake was aiming his gun, too.

"Interesting," said the tall alien. "Vorpal was busy, I see. But don't think it'll do you any good. Don't thin-"

I then interrupted the Director by firing my gun. As predicted, continuing to flex the muscle held a blinding, consistent beam. I struck the Director clean in the chest, producing a loud screeching cry from him, blowing the alien back. I had no idea how much damage I'd really done, but I was satisfied with the results. Before the others could really comprehend what was going on, and so I wouldn't waste my energy shooting at nothing, I twisted my body and my arm around, blasting away at the other soldiers in shorter bursts, though I still continued to fire off beams. I cried out excitedly as my arm heated up far more than I'd felt before, creating a wonderfully colourful distraction.

Although I was knocking aliens back, I still couldn't tell how much damage I was actually doing. Regardless, I was knocking them down, and with Jake firing his gun, too, we'd done enough damage to make our way over some downed aliens and toward the shuttlecraft, Jake having to pull me along - I was beyond exhausted by this point, my right arm hot and my body tired.

"How do you open this?" he asked desperately, myself just trying hard to keep myself from falling over, much less keep my eyes open. I looked up and with my left paw - I hardly had the strength to force my gun-arm back into an arm-arm - slapped it against the side of the ship, searching around for the control panel. After Jake turned around to fend off a few more soldiers, I managed to find it and activate the ship, powering it up and opening the hatch.

"Let's go," I said loudly, pulling on Jake's arm, after he fired a shot.

And with a final blast, Jake threw down his weapon and scooped me up in his arms, quickly taking me up into the ship. He then turned around once we were inside, pointed me so I could easily reach my paw up and close the hatch. Although there was some rumbling outside of our fair-sized shuttlecraft, Jake quickly got us into the cockpit, and I handed him the data device.

"Put that," I said, taking a few deep, tired breaths, "in the slot. There," I pointed, though it was a vague point. "It should...fit in there."

Jake did so hurriedly, then I managed to lean forward and flick a few switches and press a few holographic buttons.

"I just activated the auto-pilot. Vorpal showed me how."

The ship then began to rumble some more, except this time I felt a bit of a shift in gravity as we rose upward, then some more as we began to move, the spacecraft brilliant and well-programmed enough to navigate its way out of the large hangar. Despite still being fired upon, it seemed their modest weapons were no match for the Z-class shuttlecraft's superior shielding, which had no doubt been designed to defend against even greater weapons.

Soon I felt our small, yet still sizable, ship shift and move about, and I just watched out the cockpit window as we rose up and aimed toward the exit. But my heart sank when alarms started to blare, even inside our ship, and I noticed the hangar doors starting to close. At least the firing had stopped.

"Shit," I said, leaning forward. I then sunk both paws into two holographic spheres and found their proper positions, small rings now circling around my fingertips.

"What're you doing?" asked Jake, who was holding onto the front panel. He looked nervous. Our ship, despite my taking control, refused to budge much further, a message sounding from somewhere, probably telling me it couldn't perform its assigned duty, since a door was literally closing in front of it.

With a quick flick of my wrist, I flipped a switch which stopped the alien voice from speaking and our alarms from sounding, overriding the auto-pilot. I then took a firm hold of the holographic controls and after carefully aiming the shuttle by twisting my paws around, gripped tightly and pulled back.

Within seconds, I heard an extremely loud crack, though it was faint from inside the shuttle, just before an enormous blast of g-forces shoved me back into my seat, as well as Jake, and Valhalla's hangar seemed to vanish instantly. When I finally released the controls thirty seconds later or so, my paws tearing away from the holograms, I felt my organs rearranging themselves as I leaned back, and I just stared out the window into the infinite void beyond our solar system, breathing heavily as the adrenaline was still pumping heavily. I think our shuttle was just floating adrift now, though it was impossible to know if it was actually moving, much less how far from Valhalla I'd gone. I felt like at the speed we'd gone, we were fairly far away, at least far enough to be invisible within eyeshot.

After a few good minutes, I felt my body finally starting to relax, and I just turned my head to look at Jake. It looked like the sudden and extreme shift in gravity had the same effect on him as it had I. I just smiled at the Doberman and held my paw out toward him, and he took it quickly with both of his.

"You okay?" I asked him.

Though he was shaky, the dog nodded. "That was intense," he said. Then we both relaxed some more in our separate chairs, just stargazing for the time being, enjoying this brief moment of peace and freedom.

"I can't believe we made it off that ship," Jake said happily. "I figured we were going to die there."

"I know," was all I said. I probably didn't need to remind him how pessimistic and depressing he'd gotten, especially since we were now free. Rid of those damned aliens, though admittedly, I was very curious to learn more about them and their culture. They seemed like a kind people, though I hardly knew its citizens, with a rich history. They had multiple languages, though like on Earth, they mostly all just spoke the one, which Vorpal had tried to teach me. I didn't know how much of it I'd retain later on, considering how much I'd already retained.

Nevertheless, after what seemed like a long while, I finally sat forward and reengaged the auto-pilot, remembering we had an extremely important task to complete.

"So you want to check the rest of the shuttle out?" Jake asked me, turning to face me.

I was leaning back again, muscles more tired than they'd ever been. My eyes were heavy and sore, like when you've stayed up for over twenty-four hours, and even felt a bit queasy, though it could have just been my incredible hunger. All that shitty fast food I've been avoiding for years? I felt like I could eat at least a dozen Big Macs, with fries, and of course a root beer. No ice.

But, I had to admit, I didn't get a very good look at what was around us when Jake carried me onto our modest ship, and was curious to do so. Though my body was tired and sore, I held a paw out to the Doberman, and he promptly helped me out of my seat.

"After you," I said with a faint smile, arms falling like heavy sacks to my sides; my right arm felt even heavier.

Following the dog, he and I made our way out of the cockpit and further toward the shuttle's belly, which was mostly unimpressive. There was a medium-sized table in the centre of a square room, full of panels and screens and chairs, most of which I hadn't a clue how to work (the chairs were easy enough to figure out, though). The walls, too, had a few panels against the left side, facing away from the cockpit, and several round hatches, which I guessed were emergency escape pods, but really didn't know for sure. Not wanting to sit down quite yet, though, Jake and I continued, for what it was worth.

Through a door on the right side of the room, which slid open not unlike something from Star Wars, was what appeared to be a kitchen of some sort, not much bigger than the one in my apartment, or what was left of my apartment. Most instruments I guessed at, and with a bit of doing, could probably figure out how to work, so perhaps if this trip back to Earth took long enough, I could fix myself something to eat. Or perhaps I'd get Jake to do it, the master chef.

"Where do you think the beds are?" asked Jake, glancing at me with a cheeky grin.

Would transport shuttles like this even have beds?

I shrugged my response unenthusiastically, and we continued toward what I felt was the engine room. It was warm, clean, and seemed to make my fur stand on end. It was certainly the more industrial-looking part of the ship, sharing obvious design qualities with the massive brig back on Valhalla. The hum of the alien engines was extremely loud, though not as ear-splitting as the compressor room at work, which required earmuffs to enter. The engines were loud, and I could barely hear a word Jake was saying, yet it wasn't a painful loud. It was more like a large fan running in your room at night, except the noise came from all around you. Either way, I was glad to get out of there, especially since it required a horrible climb up a ladder; Jake made it look so easy, except he hadn't fired his body's energy at a bunch of aliens.

"If the engine breaks," said Jake loudly, the low cry of the engines now a bit more faint as we made our way back toward the cockpit, passing by what looked like a room full of cots, "I volunteer you to go back down there."

"Fuck you," I replied loudly, and after just a brief, tired moment, I stopped at the large table, just before the cockpit.

"Stop," I told Jake. "Let's just hang out here for a bit." I felt out of breath after our short trip. I then sat up upon the metallic table, though it was kind of a nice table.

"Feeling all right?" asked the dog.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just exhausted. I feel like I just ran a fucking marathon, or triathlon, or something. You know?"

Still in his boxers, Jake pressed his large, tan-coloured right paw against my chest, between the zipper of his hoodie I was still wearing. "You were incredibly brave back there," remarked the dog, which made me blush. "I think you even managed to hit more soldiers than I did."

"Impossible," I said with a smile. "Not you, the great marksman."

Soon both of Jake's paws were brushing through my black-and-white fur, the two of them resting just below my ribs, against my back. He slid me a bit closer and our noses touched, my paws finding their place around the back of the dog's neck. We were both smiling, and I started to blush even harder when his thick, canine scent filled my nostrils. After all that running and panting and sweating back on Valhalla, and that short romp through the hot engine room, his musk was more prevalent than ever.

"Don't ever lose that smell, Jake," I told him, intoxicated by his scent.

"Huh?"

I took in a deep breath through my nose, feeling like I could fall asleep at any moment. "You know how some guys use cologne and shit? And some of them really pour it on, so they just smell...I dunno. Unnatural, all the time."

"Uh... Yeah?" I think Jake hesitated because when we'd first met at the bus terminal, he was definitely wearing cologne. Of course, I hated him then.

"Well...don't put on cologne, or deodorant, or anything like that, okay?"

The dog furrowed his brow, as if trying to decipher a complex puzzle.

"I love the way you smell," I told him. I think I was mostly delirious from exhaustion. "That natural smell. That...scent, you know? That natural body odour, that strong male scent of yours."

"Could you say 'scent' one more time?"

I laughed through my nose, pressing my face against his chest. God was I tired.

Jake shrugged. "Well I guess when you're a skunk, even a dog's BO must smell great."

I laughed harder than I probably should have. "Fuck you," I said, finishing up my bout of laughter. When I finally stopped, I stretched out my arms, dangling my body from his shoulders, and looked up at the dog with a big smile on my face. "I love you, Jake Kirby," I found myself saying.

Jake gave me a bit of a half smile, though it seemed sincere. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

The dog and I then shared a sweet kiss, and he finally let me lay back.

I sighed heavily as my body relaxed against the cool metal table, and though it wasn't particularly comfortable, once I shifted onto my side, it was okay. My eyes were heavy, and it was intensely satisfying to hold them closed, and yet I found I couldn't sleep. I'd assumed I'd conk out almost immediately, but with Jake sitting in a chair close to me, sleep seemed impossible. Not even the quiet hum of the shuttle could lull me to sleep, though I was plenty tired. At least I was relaxed. Finally I opened my eyes, glancing down past my left elbow, into Jake's eyes.

"What's up?" he asked, raising his head a bit. I guess he was pretty tired, too.

I shook my head, despite it resting heavily against my right arm. "I dunno," I answered, sighing deeply. I closed my eyes again.

I suppose the thing keeping me from sleeping was the rest of my so-called mission. For some reason I was nervous, and not even at the prospect of dying. In fact, that was the last thing on my mind. I think what made me most nervous of all, or frightened, even, was what to expect when the shuttle finally landed. What was waiting for us back on Earth? It'd been over a week since Jake and I were taken, and well over two since the invasion started. How much of our precious planet was left? Perhaps when we landed, there wouldn't even be enough power to transmit any alien codes, much less one. Then everything Vorpal did for me, giving me the data device et al, would have been for naught. I was only now starting to realize, I didn't have a place to go home to, either, since my city would have been one of the first to go.

It was then it finally dawned on me, I had no family left. My parents, though I'd moved out of their home years ago, still lived in the city, only half an hour from my place if the subway wasn't too jammed. On the plus side, my factory would have been demolished, too, though that hardly made me feel better. The few friends I had were now gone, save those who moved out of the city altogether, who were just as likely killed as anybody. Would there even BE any furs left on Earth? These aliens moved so swiftly, and were so strong, they could wipe out a city in just days. I guess there were millions of cities, but still... None of them were my home.

"You sure you're okay?"

I sighed again. "Not really. You realize, neither of us have anything to go back to, right? I mean...I know you said your dad was still alive, but he was in the city penitentiary, right? I remember walking past it on my way to school as a kit, so there's no way it survived."

Jake then began to rub my leg a bit as he shifted a couple seats over, closer toward my face. "I know, baby. I've been thinking about this, too. It's all I could think about in that cell, when you were gone. And it fucking sucks, I know. I don't have any magical words that'll make things better. If anything, I'll probably make you feel worse. I've come to terms with my sister's death, and my father's. I know it isn't as easy for you, but I guess the only consolation is we'll have each other."

I pressed my lips firmly together, the heavy beating of my heart trying to push tears through. "Fuck," I spat, holding Jake's paws. "I never told my parents I loved them. I called them before getting on the bus, but I never said 'I love you.' What if-?"

Jake stopped me there. "Shh," he said quietly, squeezing back. "I'll bet they knew. The fact you called, I'll bet they knew. I'll bet they were thrilled to hear from you, happy you'd thought of them before embarking on your trip. They were probably excited to know you were getting out of your apartment, and though they were likely a bit worried for you, too, excited to know you'd met someone who could make you happy."

I took a few deep breaths and sighed once more, pulling Jake's paws up toward my face, nuzzling them. "Maybe you're right," I said. "Maybe they did know. Which...I guess is good. If any good can be found in this. Thank you, Jake."

The Doberman leaned forward and kissed my cheek softly. I still felt like shit thinking about them, but remembering the sound of my mother's voice, I knew she was happy for me. Though Jake had never met them, he seemed to understand enough about me to know how they'd react to my getting out of the house. And that seemed to lighten the heavy load my heart was holding, if even by a little bit.

I raised my arms once more and wrapped them around Jake's shoulders, pulling him down toward me to give him a big, tired hug. But I was even more delighted to see him come right up on the table with me, sliding around to my left side while his left paw brushed upward through my soft chest fur, coming to rest against the table somewhere around my right ear. His other paw was resting above my head, propping himself up above me, looking down at me with a bit of a smile, while his legs intertwined with mine. And I smiled back at him as his toes brushed and flicked against mine, slowly moving and tickling my soft footpaws, sending slight, sensitive shivers coursing up my spine. I groaned almost silently at the dog, which he seemed to react to.

Without another word spoken, Jake slowly lowered his head, not guided by my paws against the back of his neck, and with my heavy eyes nearly closed, he pressed his lips against mine and kissed me gently and carefully. His lips were so soft, and so tender and warm against mine, it was a far more romantic kiss than I'd ever received in all my years, even compared to his earlier ones. Our lips just barely pressed together, and yet we were so completely locked together, unable to stop ourselves. Not that either of us would have wanted to. My heart simply burst with incredible joy as the canine tickled my lips with his, and the soft sound of his breathing and our muzzles brushing together echoed through my ears. Jake tilted his head and kissed me from another angle, breathing deeply through his nose, while I did the same, fingers kneading the muscles at the back of his neck, barely able to contain myself.

Unfortunately, it was the small, subtle gasp of pleasure which forced the dog to stop and pull away, just slightly, though he still stared down at me. We were both breathing heavily, and I think we were both blushing, too - I was certainly blushing, at any rate. And as if I wasn't blushing enough already, Jake then made it ten times worse.

After a moment of just staring at each other, the large canine pushed his nose back toward mine, our muzzles brushing together and as his lips approached somewhere around my cheek, he gave me a quick, gentle lick.

Now, I'd never really been licked before, not like this. Especially not like this, so it was pretty damn special. Made me blush like crazy. I'd had a few guys lick my cum before, the ones who actually enjoyed the taste - Jake included - but this lick, it somehow seemed different. More personal, I suppose. More...loving. Or caring. Or something I couldn't quite describe. At least not accurately. Either way, it was an amazing little gesture that probably didn't mean much to a whole lot of people, but for someone like me who'd been fucked around so many times by so many cruel, uncaring guys, it meant the world.

No one I'd never known had ever treated me like this Doberman did, not even close. To them, I was always some sort of object, something like a condom; use it once, throw it away. Sex had never had any meaning, and this sort of foreplay, or just play, was totally unheard of, at least to me. A lot of the guys I'd been with weren't even gay, they just had some shitty problems they wanted to take out on me. I was easy, as horrible as that is to admit (again), and I think, especially in high school, I'd grown accustomed to it. I would try to tell myself the next one would be different, or that there would be some meaning behind the sex, but deep down, I knew there wasn't. I knew it was meaningless, and I knew I wouldn't see the guy again, or at the very least, he wouldn't see me, not even if he was staring right at me. But I suppose that was ancient history now. Most of those guys were probably dead at this point, anyway.

Moments after the short little lick, Jake nuzzled me and continued giving tiny kisses all down my neck, which apparently made me moan softly and stretch my body. My arms slowly dropped above my head, my left forearm brushing against Jake's, and I sighed pleasurably. I tilted my head so he could kiss my neck even more, wishing there was a more sensual way to remove this big hoodie, but for now the dog managed. What really drove me crazy, though, was when those small kisses turned back into licks, and I felt that smooth, wet tongue gently and teasingly caress my fur, tormenting the most sensitive parts of my body, and he hadn't even reached my chest yet.

"Ooh, Jake," I muttered quietly, shivering beneath his powerful form.

But before I could do anything else in return, or before Jake could take this moment any further, a fantastic, ear-splitting alarm blasted through the room, scaring the living shit (and almost my stink) right out of me.

The sound blazed through my head, hammering mercilessly like a screaming child, unceasing. And of course the voice that sounded with the alarm, I couldn't understand. And so I swore loudly and got up, eyes closed tight and trying to concentrate, disoriented by the flashing red lights and insanely loud noise, as well as my own exhaustion. Each step toward the cockpit was arduous, and I couldn't imagine how sitting down in that big chair wouldn't make me fall asleep right away, though once I took a few more steps, making the rest of that journey back to the cockpit was slightly easier.

When I finally did reach it, Jake having to pull me along somewhat, I sat down and stared at the control panel, which was flashing and trying to tell me something. I looked for an obvious sign, more importantly, how to shut off the alarm, but nothing presented itself.

"Here!" cried Jake, pointing at something. I leaned over to look.

Flashing on Jake's side of the control panel was what could have possibly been a sign of incoming fighter ships, or an enemy of some sort. Though I couldn't be certain, it all became so much more clear when our modest little shuttle suddenly started to shake violently, nearly tossing me across the room. Fortunately, Jake had caught me.

"They're fucking firing on us," I shouted needlessly, chaotically scrambling to my footpaws. My heart was racing now, and I was completely, fully awake, now back in my seat and paws shoved into the holographic controls. I flicked off the auto-pilot, which may have turned off the alarm, too, though the red lights were still flashing. Either way, I steered the ship as best I could, not knowing what I was doing, really, or even if I was evading our stalkers. I had no idea if this shuttle had weapons, nor if they could be used automatically. Hell, even if it did, I didn't have a clue how to activate them. Vorpal never mentioned anything about fighting enemies. He just said we had extra thick shields.

On that note, our extra thick shields took another hit, but fortunately I wasn't thrown away this time. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jake clinging onto his char, then another great rumble, and he looked around the control panel furiously, I think trying to see if he could do anything. But as we took on more weapons fire, that alarm blaring again - I hoped it wasn't something like a hull breach - I think only thoughts of abandoning ship were running through his mind.

I then forced the ship into a sharp dive, if you could even call it that in space, then a sharp turn, and other sharp manoeuvres which proved to be futile. Upon my last turn, I was suddenly frightened to see a couple ships blast past the cockpit, then from a distance, the small fighters barely visible now, a few bright lights lit up, and seconds later, our whole shuttle rumbled violently and sparks suddenly exploded from the control panel, closer to Jake.

Luckily, Jake avoided being burned, though he had to leap from his seat. I cursed for the hundredth time and craned our shuttle to the left, then pulled up, but took on more heat, anyway. More sparks flew, and I couldn't imagine what other damage we'd taken on. But when the lights began to flicker and spark, I started to think it was time to get the hell off this ship.

I tore my paws from the controls, ejected and pocketed the data device, then leapt from my seat, Jake looking at me curiously. But I think my eyes told him exactly what he was already thinking. He just nodded at me, and together we left the cockpit, holding onto the walls as our ship shook once more.

The table in the other room had already half fallen over, and panels and screens had cracked, burst, and some were just sparking. The lights then went out completely, not coming back on, and despite the alarm, I had this feeling the engine was failing. I didn't know what it was, since I sure as hell couldn't hear its gentle hum over the alarm, but I just somehow knew. Fortunately, at least one of the escape pod panels weren't destroyed - and I prayed to someone's god these were escape pods - and I pressed buttons feverishly. It was the big, obvious, flashing red one, as it happens.

Suddenly a round hatch opened to my left, and when Jake and I peered in, we saw at least four seats sitting in a circle inside what I presumed was a round pod. After the ship shook more violently than before, Jake and I were quick to get in, sitting down immediately and strapping ourselves in. After looking around for just a second longer, I found what I presumed was the eject button - another flashing red one - and slammed it with my left paw, then held on tight.

In just a second, we were rocketed outward. After getting my bearings and looking out the small round window, I saw our Z-class shuttle with modest blue flames shooting out of several locations, until a large blast of energy struck the thick shields, dispelling the energy blast almost half way around the entire top. However, a second blast later, and a massive hole was blown through the side, demolishing both the energy and the physical shields of the shuttle. Moments later, upon taking more weapons fire, the shuttle exploded in a fiery blaze, the void of space swallowing those flames in an instant. Our small pod shook and rumbled with the explosion of our shuttle, and just like that, Jake and I were floating amongst the debris. With any luck, they wouldn't realize until it was too late we had escaped.

"Jesus Christ," I finally managed to say, sitting back in my seat, watching from the corner of my eye an enormous piece of Z-class shuttle float past us. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, even though I was shaking and scared.

Both Jake and I were breathing heavily, strapped to our seats, and for now, all we could do was sit and wait for us to eventually calm down. So far, no one attacked us, and though they could be anywhere, I couldn't see any enemy ships. It seemed at least for now, floating here, we were safe. Entering Earth's atmosphere could present a whole new set of problems, but we enjoyed our momentary peace.

"So what now..?" Jake asked, as if I'd have any idea. "Does this pod know where it's going?"

I shook my head, eyes closed again. I was breathing through my nose now. "I don't know," I said. "Vorpal never mentioned anything about escape pods. He seemed to think the shuttle would be enough." My heart was still racing, the adrenaline still pumping. It would be a long while before I managed to calm down, having just nearly died for the millionth time.

Suddenly, though, I was startled to feel something rubbing against my leg. When I looked up, Jake was smiling at me, his toes brushing against my calf muscle. When I looked down toward his leg, I noticed a shocking bulge in his boxers.

"Fuck," I said, blushing.

"That's the idea," replied the dog, making me blush harder.

"Are you serious?"

"With the number of times you've put my life in danger, I'd at least like to get some before I finally go."

"You're unbelievable."

Jake then began struggling with his restraints, until he finally released himself, and for a moment, he seemed to just float above his seat. "Zero gravity... Cool."

I lifted a leg just as Jake floated forward, pushing him away. "I'm so not in the mood," I said, though I think I was lying. I still felt exhausted, now more than ever. This was the only time I'd have to relax before being back on Earth, and I imagined it would be as life-threatening and terrifying as the past few hours have been, or however long we've been running from the Aknarii for.

"We've got nothing else to do out here, and Earth doesn't seem to be getting much closer, at least, not very quickly." The dog then glanced out the small window. "See?"

I looked, too, and when I really focused, I realized just how breathtaking our planet really was. A part of me expected to see the alien ships, and some kind of crazy battle going on, with craters and black smoke and explosions, but the planet just seemed so peaceful. I didn't see any war, or death or destruction, nor any borders or boundaries, for that matter. I felt a certain amount of pride, I think, that this was the planet I was from. Not some sort of national pride, or whatever, but...planetary pride? I couldn't imagine how many other life forms existed in this universe, but I could honestly say, staring at Earth from so high above it, I was proud to be one of them.

Of course, as a race, we were hardly perfect. But then again, neither were the Aknarii. They warred for a long time before being united by the death of their home planet, and it would seem we, too, as Earthlings, would also be united by this common enemy. Divided, there would be no way to win. There would be no choice but to work together with every nation. Though frankly, knowing our race as I did, I wouldn't be surprised if we still managed to fight one another, as well as the alien invaders.

I continued to stare at our planet for a long while until it finally went out of view, our little pod apparently spinning as it hovered toward Earth, along with the rest of the shuttle's debris.

"I can make it quick," argued the dog, who'd floated back toward me again.

I sighed, and could scarcely hide the obvious erection poking out of my sheath.

"How many people do you know who can honestly say they've had sex in space?"

I couldn't think of one.

I just sighed again, but it was more of an "okay, I give up," kind of sigh. Tiredly, I worked my restraints off, and slowly I floated upward, toward the Doberman.

"Try not to look too pleased with yourself," I commented, eyes barely open.

Quickly, the dog removed his boxers, then removed his hoodie from me, letting them float away, not that they had far to go. Soon he held me in his arms, weightless, and pulled me in for a kiss. I accepted his kiss happily, my heart aflame once more, and when he pulled away, he groaned silently and began licking slowly at my neck, which produced a quiet gasp from me.

"You're too good to me," I said, my arms drifting to my sides as the dog kept me close, still licking, his tongue sliding along my collarbone. And when that wet, smooth muscle brushed over my left nipple, I squirmed and moaned, then a bit more as he just kissed my body softly, as if showing me just how much he appreciated and loved my black-furred form. His lips continued down my body, away from my chest and along my abs, which I stretched in sort of an agonizing ecstasy, making a bit more noise than I intended to. No one had ever treated me like this before, and it was all so foreign. Jake loved me, all of me, every last bit, which made me happier than I think I'd ever been.

Just as the dog's lips reached downward further, he gave my full, eager sheath one long, gentle kiss, then pulled me back down until our faces were close together. As our eyes met, I just smiled and blushed deeply, and the dog licked my cheek. Immediately after, he spun me around so I was facing the window, and though it took a bit of artful manoeuvring, I clung onto a couple bars against the curved wall while he floated up behind me. Moving about in zero gravity was a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I think we finally found our proper positions.

With myself firmly attached to the wall, Jake put his paws on my waist and pulled himself in, and within moments I felt his hot, hard sheath press against my tailhole, and the dog moaned loudly. He was even more eager than I was, but then again, I would probably be asleep otherwise.

Nevertheless, Jake promised he'd make it quick, and having said that, it took very little time for him to find an optimum position behind me - he held his paws tightly around my chest, footpaws linked around my legs - and penetrate my poor little tailhole.

And as soon as he did penetrate my poor little tailhole, I let out a loud cry, for some reason not expecting it to hurt so much.

"You okay?" asked Jake, stopping himself.

I growled quietly before answering. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...ugh. Just wait a second. I wasn't ready."

Jake laughed quietly. "Sorry, sweetheart."

I let out a deep breath, relaxing my muscles as best I could. "It's okay," I said. "Being quick doesn't mean you can't be gentle."

Most guys I'd been with wanted to be very quick, especially the straight ones, so I suppose I wasn't expecting such a fast penetration. Jake had been so good to me, I think I'd just been caught off guard. But with him at least an inch inside my body, if not more, I was sure as hell not going to let him go now, not without finishing. Though it hurt a lot, I wanted to feel his hard, thick knot inside me again, throbbing violently within my body.

"Okay," I said with a short sigh. "I'm good. Now fuck me." I think I surprised and delighted the dog with that final remark.

Jake growled then held on tight, and soon, I felt his thick shaft sliding upward into my body, which brought me great pleasure. And by the dog's loud sounds in my ear, it apparently brought him great pleasure, too.

I cried out and moaned as the dog pushed upward, until he was inside, save his knot, and soon he pulled back, only to push forward once more. Again and again, Jake gently ravaged my tailhole, grunting and growling as he picked up his pace.

I moved my hips and my legs as best I could with zero gravity, letting out sharp cries each time Jake's shaft hammered deep inside, wanting that knot more than I even realized. I pushed and pushed back, trying to assist Jake as much as my body could allow, not because I wanted him to finish quickly, but because it felt so incredibly great. Maybe I was just hornier than I thought I was, but I couldn't seem to get enough of this remarkable dog-cock.

"You're...ah!...amazing," huffed the Doberman, pushing hard and fast into my rear, and I was surprised at how well he retained his speed. I didn't know what he meant that made me so amazing, but I assumed it had something either to do with my tailhole, or with what I was doing in response to his pounding my bum, which was pushing back.

I didn't say anything in response, but instead offered a sharp, gratified moan and an extra hard shove back into his knot, which was still yet to penetrate my rear. But somehow I felt it would be coming soon, and I hoped it did. I imagined I would fall asleep almost immediately after being knotted, though I felt pretty wide awake in this moment of ecstasy.

Through his deep, heavy panting, I think I may have heard Jake tell me he was "almost there," though it was hard to make out. Especially since he said it with exasperated breath and I was squealing like he'd just stepped on my tail. Nevertheless, I did feel a slight change in Jake's movements, which of course came in the form of lower speed, but much harder pounding. Each thrust made the dog "ruff" deeply, and soon his strong, large paws gripped onto my hips.

"This is it," I think I heard him say, and within seconds, I felt my tailhole spread very wide, sending sharp bolts of pain firing up my body, and of course I cried out horribly as his large knot squeezed through. Then a second later, a great amount of pleasure came washing over me as I heard his knot pop into body, and the dog let out a long series of ecstatic moans, growls, and my favourite, barks and howls. When his short, strong thrusts finally subsided, I let go of the bars and let myself float backward, attached to the dog by the rear.

Jake was panting heavily, and just held his paws to my belly as we gently floated around, staying in this position for a long while, barely moving a muscle. This zero gravity thing was pretty cool, and I had to say, kind of relaxing. Especially when you had a great big Doberman stuck inside you.

"Ah, fuck, Jake... That was fucking great." I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment, floating in place and still feeling that huge, hard cock buried deep inside my body, pulsating heavily. The only slight disappointment was our little round chamber wasn't nearly as filled with the stink of both Jake and I's dirty business as I'd have liked it to be, probably something to do with the air filtration and recycling system aboard the pod. It was what kept us alive in this small chamber, after all, with clean air to breath as we floated around like debris. There was still a bit of smell, but it wasn't all that strong, like you might expect from the two of us being stuck inside such a small space. But I enjoyed it all the same, taking in a deep breath.

"Thank you," replied the dog, I think more thanking me for actually letting him fuck me, rather than for the compliment. He then nuzzled me and gave me a hug around my chest, holding me against him as we continued to float.

"I'm exhausted," I told him, still firmly attached to his cock.

Jake chuckled quietly. "I can tell. It's okay if you want to sleep. Just let me..."

"No," I said quickly. "You can leave yourself inside me...if you want." I started to blush heavily after saying that.

The dog laughed quickly through his nose. "I'm fine with that," he said, giving me another squeeze before letting go. "I could probably sleep a bit, too, anyway."

And so locked together with Jake, I relaxed my muscles easily in the zero gravity of our escape pod, loving this closeness to Jake far more than I could begin to describe. It filled my heart with such great joy to have found such a loving fur, despite our beginnings, and wouldn't have traded this moment for anything else. "I love you, Jake," I said quietly as I drifted off to sleep, quite literally, happy and extremely relaxed, and very warm and, of course, very pleasured, too. For once in what felt like a long time, I was at peace.

When I woke up again, an indeterminable amount of time later, there was another damned alarm blaring, and incredibly, I was still attached to the dog from behind. I swore loudly and looked about, looking for any signs of what could have possibly set off the alarm. When I glanced out the window, I noticed Earth was significantly closer, and I'm talking taking-up-the-whole-window close. I then felt Jake's paws against my back, heard a short apology, then before I had time to object, his amazingly still-hard - partially hard - dog meat came popping out, sending a great deal of cum to go with it. I stopped as much as I could, but when I finally sat down again - still totally naked, not too concerned yet with clothing myself - and strapping myself in, I noticed only a few large globs floating past my face.

Then the pod began to shake.

"Ooh, shit," I said, trembling a bit, and with a very nervous feeling in my gut. Evidently we'd been caught in Earth's gravitational pull, and were now plummeting toward the planet at speeds I could scarcely imagine. The ruined chucks of shuttle, I could see, were beginning to heat up, tails starting to form behind them. "We're dead," I said instinctively. "This is it, we're dead. At least it'll be quick."

"We'll be fine, sweetie," said the Doberman, though I had no idea how he could possibly know that. I was thankful, at least, he'd managed to strap himself back in successfully, too. "These things were probably designed for this."

"How the fuck do you know?" I shouted over the rumbling and the alarm.

"Just a guess," he cried back, both of us holding on tight now.

Very quickly the pod began to heat up, and the immense gravity pulling me against my seat was unbelievable. Though I felt like I was going to pass out, which I sort of wished would happen, I somehow stayed conscious. The sound of the pod rumbling and rocketing downward was almost deafening, and all I wanted to do was scream along with it, as if venting this sort of frustration and stress would somehow make it all go away. But when I looked at Jake, whose eyes were closed tightly and his knuckles practically showing white through his fur, somehow I found a bit of strength. If he could endure this, so could I.

And so I held onto my metal restraints with as tight a grip as I imagined Jake was holding on, eyes closed and trying desperately to think happy thoughts. Our little escape pod could easily be destroyed, torn apart by the amazing heat and friction caused by re-entry, if not by the war raging on below us.

It was upon concentrating on these happy thoughts when I started to realize just how sore my little tailhole was, having had a big, hard fleshy knot recently torn out of it, and yet it was so completely satisfied, too. It was sore, yes, but not a horribly painful sore. More of an overused sore, or something. It was bearable, and I think considering how it got that way, kind of enjoyable, too. I wouldn't be walking funny, at least, and it served as a reminder of how wonderful my boyfriend was.

Boyfriend. Even now, I still wasn't used to referring to Jake as my boyfriend. We'd met in such a horrible way, and became close in an equally horrible situation. There was certainly nothing usual about our meeting, which of course could also be said for the rest of our journey, too. I couldn't help but think about what things may have been like had we met under normal circumstances, or rather, if we'd actually had some real dates.

Where would he take me, assuming he'd be the one doing the taking? I suppose it could have been me, but in all my life, I'd never taken someone out. It'd always been me being asked, though they were very rarely actual dates. A few were, but the dates were always just a pretence, or a prelude to sex. Would Jake have taken me to the movies? What was even playing? Or would he take me out to dinner? And how romantic would it be? Would he have made fun of me the way he had? Was all of this totally moot, trying to imagine first dates like that?

Of course, I didn't need answers to any of these questions. The questions were fantasy enough, just imagining the best of all situations. Maybe Jake, under regular circumstances, would have taken me to see an alien movie - I had to smile at that thought - then taken me out to...hm. Some nice restaurant, I imagined, but not suit-and-tie nice. Just regular nice. No fast food. Something with a bit of class, being the master chef he was. No, he wouldn't let me eat garbage, that much I knew. Maybe he'd even take me to his restaurant, or the one he worked at, and make me something personally.

Despite the great pressure building in our little pod, that thought made me extremely happy. That would have been so romantic, especially as a first date. Would he do that as a first date, though? That seems like something you'd do later on, when you know you really like the person. Second or third date, maybe. I was never really a firm believer in Love At First Sight, anyway. What would he make me? Would he make me anything I ordered, or perhaps he'd prepare some signature dish of his, something special, just for me. Pasta of some sort, maybe, with chicken. He'd described some dish to me before, when we were back on Earth, but I could hardly remember it now. I think it was cheesy, whatever it was, which sounded good to me at the time - I ate a lot of cheese with my pasta, when I made it myself at home. Usually in large quantities.

Just when I began to fantasize about the type of meal Jake would make me, as well as focusing a lot more on what we might do after the date - would there be sex on the first date? - the escape pod finally burst from the overcast sky and I saw far more easily just how quickly we were hurtling toward the planet. It was kind of cool, though, seeing the land from so high up - I'd never flown before - even though there was mostly water all around us. However I did see land far off, which was when I realized we were definitely rocketing down at an angle, as if the pod was aiming toward something. Very quickly I got a good measure, or a good feel, anyway, for its speed as the land rapidly came rushing forward, and soon we were speeding many miles above the earth, watching the destroyed - I just assumed they were destroyed - cities whiz past us.

In what felt like just a few short minutes - time was especially hard to judge when moving so quickly - I noticed a large system of mountains, which we unfortunately seemed to be heading straight for. I swore several times, very loudly, as the mountains approached, fearing we would crash straight into it, but much to my surprise we appeared to soar just over them, though we were probably higher up than it seemed.

"Holy fuck, holy fuck," I said again and again, watching the snow-capped peaks rush past our small pod, looking as if they were going to tear a huge hole in the bottom. But fortunately they all missed, and soon we cleared the damned mountains and new flew over an enormous city, once again flying treacherously close. My heart was racing and my nerves were practically shot, but somehow I was still hanging in there, like I needed to see what was going to kill me before I died.

After clearing the city, I noticed there didn't seem to be a whole lot else around us, like we were in the desert, and I couldn't even imagine where on Earth we were. A small town then flew toward us, shockingly close, and within just moments - now clearing the town - I cursed loudly and shut my eyes, our pod finally coming to an almost-immediate halt.

In an explosion of dirt and plants and whatever else was outside, Jake and I shook violently around in our seats, amazingly safe strapped into them, the sound of crashing into the planet nearly as loud as that god-damned alarm. But soon we stopped, and the alarm stopped, and the lights flicked off and we seemed to be sitting inside a lifeless metal shell. I was breathing heavily, and not much light was pouring through the small window. I raised my heavy head to see if Jake was still with me, but I found that difficult. I then groaned and moved my arms slowly, fingers fumbling with the straps, trying to undo myself to find my loving Doberman.

"Lauren?" I suddenly heard, and my heart leapt for joy.

I strained my eyes to see, then suddenly fell forward, as apparently in our chaotic landing, my seat had ended up pointing downward a bit. And much to my delight, I fell into a warm, muscular body, embracing me tight. "Jake!" I cried, hugging him tightly. I couldn't tell whether or not he was still strapped to his seat, but he still hugged me back.

"It's so fucking dark in here," I remarked, then lifted myself from the dog. When I felt his paw on my cheek, I managed to finally focus on him, my heart racing both from the adrenaline and impact, as well as from hugging my boyfriend. Despite the lack of light, his dark eyes seemed bright as day.

"Finally made it," he said quietly, giving my cheek a rub. "We're back home."

"For what it's worth," I remember thinking, though I didn't say anything. I just smiled back at him and nuzzled my cheek against his. "Come on," I did say. "Let's try to get out of here."

And so carefully I lifted myself completely from the dog and looked up, the pod's hatch apparently right above us. I gave it a push and a pull, then a hit and a swear, but I couldn't seem to make it budge. It was also at an awkward angle.

Seconds later, Jake got up and tried to open it, too, but to no avail. He cursed, too, and hit it and pushed on it some more, but apparently that wasn't enough. We looked around for a control panel or something, but since there wasn't even a bit of power, nothing was on. Though I pressed my paw into several blank panels, no controls appeared.

"Fuck," I said, sitting back down.

"I have an idea," said Jake, sitting beside me. "But I'm not sure you'll like it, and it's probably pretty dangerous."

"What? Stick of fucking dynamite?" I probably didn't need to swear so much.

"Sort of," replied the dog, holding onto my right paw. He stroked the back of my paw gently with his thumb until I realized what he was getting at.

"Ah, shit, I dunno," I said, pulling back my arm. He wanted me to blast a hole through the door with my gun-arm, and while I was far from being anything even closely resembling a physicist - Jake even less so - something about one of Newton's many laws told me that was just asking to get myself killed. "The blow-back could rip off my arm." Of course I didn't know that for a fact, but it seemed like a plausible scenario. "Besides," I continued, "this thing just ripped through Earth's atmosphere and crashed straight into the ground. Do you really think a blast from my arm is going to tear a hole in the side?"

Jake sighed. "I'm just trying to come up with ideas. Let's put that into the Last Resort Pile."

I had a feeling the Last Resort Pile was going to be the biggest pile.

"Okay, well how about that data device? Think it'll open the door?"

I thought about it, then a second later, Jake began helping me search for a slot for the device to slide into, and though all seemed hopeless, after a long while, we finally found it. Jake did, I mean, and after frantically searching through Jake's hoodie for it, I jammed it into the hole. Luckily the device fit, and was actually designed to fit, rather than me dropping it into some unfortunate crack.

A moment later, I heard a faint whirring sound, like mechanics moving and shifting from within the walls of the pod, then the faint sound of steam or exhaust shooting out, like it was from outside. Finally, a loud bang rattled through the pod, coming from the door, then it shifted, dirt falling in a little. Jake and I just stood, watching, waiting for something more to happen. But for the longest time, nothing did, and Jake and I still continued to watch, too cautious to attempt pushing on the hatch. But then with another loud burst, the door suddenly exploded off the pod, startling us and causing dirt and rocks to flow into the pod, which fortunately stopped.

When the dust settled, I peered upward, squinting, out of our hole and into the bright blue sky of Earth. I was shaking a bit, happy far more than I could express, then raised my paws to the edge of the pod, dirt trickling down as my fingers shifted it around. I looked down at Jake who clasped his paws together and helped lift me out, still naked, into the warm, inviting sun of some desert in some country.

I just looked at my surroundings, seeing only a few clouds in the sky, various forms of dry plant life, and a couple clusters of cacti. In the distance were large formations of reddish rock, with smaller rocks closer to us. It reminded me of something from the Wild West, and I surmised we were in western America someplace, far, far away from my home. Unfortunately, I didn't see a hell of a lot else out here, like a home or even a shack would have sufficed. I guess, unlike the shuttle, our little escape pod - which, by the way, had ripped an enormous scar in the Earth's surface, like a fallen meteorite - didn't have the proper coordinates to Dr. Malikov's.

"Well shit," I said, looking back toward the pod, and Jake trying to climb out. I quickly bent down and helped pull him out, especially since he was carrying our only articles of clothing, as well as the data device. He handed me his large black hoodie, and after I put it on, I slipped the data device inside. Jake then threw on his boxers, though at this point it seemed meaningless. Nevertheless, we looked around at our surroundings together, paws covering our eyes as if that would reveal something hidden, but it all looked the same.

"What now..?" I asked Jake modestly. "Any idea where we are?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Geography wasn't exactly my strong suit."

"I thought your dad taught you survival and stuff."

"He taught me how to survive in the north, in the forest. Not in the baking desert. I can't even tell which way north is. Not until I can see which way the sun is moving."

"Looks like we're back where we started, 'cept we have even less of an idea on where we're going."

Jake grunted a response, looking around. The sun was hot, way hotter than where we were before. Before we were taken, I mean, in the forest. We were definitely south more, way more, probably even a whole other country. Maybe even Mexico. I was certainly getting that vibe, but then again, like Jake, I didn't know a whole lot about geography. We could've been in Australia for all I knew, though I wasn't sure what mountains Australia had, which I was certain we'd passed over, though we were moving very fast. Of course, it didn't really matter where we were by this point.

"I think we passed by a town before crashing," I said, looking back at our steaming escape pod, then up past the large streak of freshly upturned earth. I was looking in the distance for the town, but didn't see anything. "I guess it'd be in that direction. It didn't feel like we'd flown very far from it, but I guess we did." I squinted my eyes some more, possibly seeing some structures, but was far too distorted by the hot sun to see clearly.

Jake thought about it for a moment, rubbed his chin, then concurred. And so we continued our journey, once again back on Earth, happy for it, but not so happy for this incredible heat. There was very little life around us, though I thought I heard numerous times the sound of those loud, buzzing bugs you sometimes hear in the summer time, as well as various other things I couldn't identify.

We passed more of the same thing for a good hour or so, not feeling any closer to the possible town we may or may not have been seeing on the wavy horizon. We were also both extremely hot, especially since both of us had dark fur, but we persevered. At one point, I had to remove Jake's hoodie, because really, it didn't help me stay cool in the slightest amount, and I was far too exhausted to care about being naked in the possible event of meeting actual people.

It was shortly after that I began to realize just how hungry I was as well, and of course the sun didn't help my thirst, either. When I looked over at Jake, he looked as tired as I was, and was panting noticeably, drool dangling in long strings from his tongue. At least his fur was short, though, unlike mine. I suppose it could have been worse, and in some places I kept it nice and trim, so as to not look like a total dirt-bag, but for the most part my soft, well-groomed black fur did nothing to keep me cool. In fact, with the amount I was sweating, my fur was starting to feel gross and matted, more so than it already had been from my stay aboard Valhalla. That was another downside to longer fur, was having to clean it every day.

Though I think I kind of enjoyed cleaning myself. Not just because it made me clean, but because I think to some degree - more than I would normally care to admit - I liked making myself look nice. I wouldn't say I'm particularly vain, though I guess I am a little bit. I just like the feeling of getting out of the shower, fixing myself up and being able to say to myself, "perfect." All my fur was just right, at all the lengths I preferred it in all the right places, though I admit there were many spots now which required trimming. Even when I was little, I liked standing in front of the mirror and experimenting with this and that, deciding very early on I liked how I looked, despite small improvements here and there. Naturally, my teen years proved to be my most experimental, and for a brief period I really hated what I looked like, though now I just chalk it up to hormones.

In fact, at a few points in my high school career, I'd even dyed all my white fur, a task unto itself, to various colours. The first colour was a deep, fire engine red, which at the time I loved, since it got a lot of looks and stares, though it could have also been the matching girl's top I wore on its premier. Nevertheless, after a few weeks I changed it to blue, then finally to purple, which I stuck with for a long time until my final year of high school. When I turned eighteen, after my grandfather died, I decided I was actually very proud to be a skunk, and proudly showed my traditional black-and-white colours, and have done so ever since.

"Hey," Jake suddenly said, slapping me in the arm with the back of his paw, stopping me. "Let's rest for a bit, okay? There's a huge rock over there we can use for shade."

"Okay," I said wearily, and we continued toward it.

We embraced that cool shade like it was refreshing water, and both sat immediately against the warm, red rock. We were both breathing fairly heavily, and of course were equally tired, though I think Jake had more energy in him than I did.

"We're going to have to find water soon," said the dog, staring blankly at a dry shrub. "And pray to God we're aren't hallucinating. It feels like the town's been moving farther away with every step we take."

"Ha!" I said, glad at least Jake was seeing what I was seeing. "No fucking kidding. This sucks hardcore."

Jake glanced over at me then put a paw on mine, giving it a squeeze. "We made it this far," he told me with a smile. "No way are we gonna let some silly desert stop us. This is way too important."

"Yeah," I agreed, not having enough energy to conjure up a real reply.

After a while of just sitting, myself idly fumbling with the data device, both Jake and I seemed to perk our ears at the same time.

"You...hear that?" I asked, keeping perfectly still. It sounded something like a lawnmower, one of those riding ones, except more muted. It sounded far away, too. My first thought was a plane of some kind, but it sounded too slow. As I carefully began to rise, all I could hope for was to see a vehicle of any kind in the distance, and when Jake and I appeared from behind the rock, we saw just that.

"Holy shit!" I cried, grabbing onto Jake's arm. I then hurriedly threw on the dog's hoodie and pocketed the data device, then he and I began toward what was possibly a jeep at a much greater speed than we'd gone after our crash landing. I felt confident, also, that this wasn't a hallucination, and wasn't aliens. A part of me wanted to start waving them down, but it was clear from the long trail of dust behind them, blowing to the right, they were headed straight for us.

Jake and I were practically running now, and as the jeep got closer, I noticed it wasn't military, either, which was a relief. It was white, in fact, and looked like a very bumpy ride. But any ride would have done, even from the military. Hopefully whoever this was wouldn't ask too many questions, and would be able to help us find Dr. Malikov.

When the jeep finally stopped, from behind the glare of the windshield - its top was down - stepped out a rather average-looking fur, wearing a nice long-sleeve t-shirt, rolled up to below his elbows, and some trendy jeans. Plus he was wearing sunglasses. Oh yeah, and he was a dog. A Dalmatian, in fact. He then lifted his sunglasses and stared at us, as if he was trying to figure out whether or not we were real.

After a long, awkward pause - I'd almost forgotten we were nearly naked - the Dalmatian removed his shades and slid one arm under the collar of his shirt, so they hung there in front. "One'a you Lauren?" he asked, looking unimpressed.

"Uh," I started, stepping forward. "I am. I'm Lauren. Dr...Malikov?" It was hard to imagine a scientist so apparently brilliant looking about as old as Jake.

But the dog shook his head. "No, his assistant. Name's Tai. I've been instructed to bring you to him." Tai then looked at Jake. "Who're you?"

"Jake Kirby. I'm, uh...I'm with Lauren."

Tai looked at us for a bit longer, and it was then I realized he was chewing gum. He looked as if he was trying to decide what to do. "All right," he finally said, turning back to his jeep. "Come on then. Let's not make the good doctor wait any longer than he has to."

Jake and I quickly made our way to the car, both of us getting in the back seat and buckled up. Part of me hoped I could rest when I got back to Earth, but clearly that wouldn't happen quite yet.

After we got going, I looked around a bit, more at the stuff inside Tai's jeep. It was largely unimpressive, though I noticed several notes scrawled on Post-Its all over the place, as well as a bit of garbage, fast food cups, and an MP3 player with headphones. Pretty standard. I also noticed a tiny calendar, one of those ones most of the men have in their lockers at work at the factory, usually of bikini babes on motorcycles, or something very similar. This month's babe was a rabbit, as it happens, who was spread out along a big red chopper, wearing a red bikini top and tight, cut-off jeans, with a bit of what I assumed was her thong sticking up around her hips. I then sat back, determining there was nothing else of interest.

"So you guys came from their ship, huh?" said Tai, yelling back over the roar of the gravel against the tires, plus the wind whipping over the windshield. "Must've been hell, or so I imagine. Frankly, I'm impressed either of you made it."

"How did you know to find us?" Jake leaned forward and asked. I leaned in, too, so I could hear the conversation.

"Alexei, or Dr. Malikov, rather, said he knew you'd be arriving today, though he said you'd be landing in a shuttle. When we saw what looked like a fireball fly over town, we figured it was probably you. Frankly, I'm surprised you survived the crash."

"Where are we, exactly?"

"You're in Arizona, my friends. Welcome to the Mojave!"

"Arizona?" I asked surprised, gripping the seat in front of me. "Jesus Christ! How the hell're we gonna get home?"

"Depends on where you live."

I frowned, then said modestly, "Canada..."

"Well until this alien problem is solved, friends, you guys aren't going anywhere. Not unless you plan to walk."

I'd had enough walking.

"Well I have the data device," I said, assuming Tai knew about it, and knew what to expect. "Does Dr. Malikov have some sort of plan?"

"It's always hard to tell with him, but I think so. He's been looking into ways on disabling the alien's shields, but has so far been unsuccessful. If this data device has the information Vorpal said it should, then it'll be all we need to take them down. They seem to just keep coming and coming, no matter how many of their fighters we seem to take down, it's never enough. We'll finally make some headway."

Satisfied with that, I sat back once again in my seat and, despite the incredibly bumpy ride, tried my best to relax. We'd be there soon, and things were finally starting to look up. When I let out a long sigh, Jake held my paw and smiled at me, and we sat as close together as our seatbelts would allow, which wasn't very close. But I was at least able to rest my head on his shoulder, paws still linked together, letting out yet another long sigh as my weary body got as much rest as the jeep would let me.

After a short while, we started to slow down, and when I opened my eyes, I noticed we were coming up to a rather modest home, still quite away from the town. It didn't look like the sort of houses from around my neighbourhood, but it clearly belonged here. It was kind of a flat home with a low roof, and probably a basement, though it only looked like a single-floor house. There was another car in the stony driveway, if you could even call it that, and the usual plant life this desert seemed to be full of littered the front. From somewhere around back I noticed a large antenna of some sort, with various dishes and devices attached, wires coiling downward.

"Alexei's in the basement," said Tai, turning off the engine, after parking near the other car. "Follow me."

Jake and I were then led through the house, which looked rather barren, with little furniture and even fewer appliances. Not even a TV, for god's sake. But I suppose when you're an important scientist like Malikov apparently was, you don't have time for such things. But before taking us to this basement I kept hearing so much about, we were lead into a nice bedroom with a large bed and a couple dressers. Luckily this room had a TV. Tai then began rooting around in one of the dressers, tossing articles of clothing onto the bed.

"Alexei assumed you wouldn't have any clothes with you, or very few, especially since you two were prisoners, so he asked if I could lend you mine. I reluctantly agreed."

I frowned, but could at least appreciate his honesty.

"If you want to clean yourselves up, I can give him the data device for you."

Feeling rather protective of such a small, yet extraordinarily important piece of technology, I gripped the device tightly and pulled it away a bit, keeping it in my paws for now. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather hand it to him myself."

Tai gave me a particular glare, but likely understood my hesitance. "All right, but I doubt you need reminding how dire this information is, and that hundreds are dying each day."

"Thank you," I said sarcastically, though again, I could understand where he was coming from. "I'll be quick, I promise."

Tai glared, then nodded, then shut the door behind him. When I glanced about the room, I quickly got the impression this wasn't Malikov's room, nor did it belong exclusively to Tai. There was likely another, another who was sharing the large bed with the Dalmatian.

When I finally turned to the bed, Jake had already begun slipping into some jeans, which fit him very well, and he went with a red, short-sleeve t-shirt with a faint yet cool design on the front, something like tribal angel wings, or something, and it hugged his body very nicely.

"Hm," he said, looking at himself. "I guess it could be worse."

I thought he looked really good.

After Jake sat on the bed, lying back with his arms stretched above his head - the dog's stomach was showing, which was cute and I wanted to rub it - I glanced at what I assumed was picked out for me. The jeans I threw on quickly, not quite fitting me right, but I think they were good enough. Incredibly baggy and loose, but fortunately Tai was considerate enough to give me a belt, one of those non-leather ones that can adjust to any size, with the two rings on one end.

But after staring at the typical, trendy t-shirt Tai likely had an endless supply of, I glanced about the room once more. "I think Tai's girlfriend lives here with him, or wife, or whatever she is."

"Just put the shirt on," said the dog, sitting up. "You're not going to rifle through her things to find a shirt you like. Besides, if she's here, I doubt she'd appreciate you just taking one of her tops."

I sighed. "Yeah, I guess." I then threw on the top, which wasn't as tight as Jake's, but still fit reasonably well. It must've been a small. Either way, I threw Jake's hoodie back on, not thinking for a moment he might want it back, then we left the room. Tai was waiting for us in the kitchen, not far from his bedroom.

"Come along," he said coolly, standing up from leaning on the table and led us downstairs.

And as I imagined, the basement was full of all sorts of electrical equipment, like computers and monitors and all sorts of things I could hardly begin to name, much less figure out how to use. Most striking, though, was the machine Dr. Malikov was standing at, adjusting some dial as we entered that section of the basement. Tons of wires were coming from the machine, some of them even glowing, and a couple small dishes were placed strategically upon the desk. When I got a closer look, there was a keyboard, a monitor, and some sort of extension plugged into the keyboard, as if its standard keys weren't quite enough to run it. Perhaps it contained Aknar characters. Either way, this machine was clearly different than the others, though it looked about as complicated.

"I found them," Tai said as he approached Malikov.

The Lynx then turned around, then removed his goggles. "Lauren," said the old scientist, with a slight Russian accent. No surprises there. He was shorter than I imagined. "You have no idea how excited I am to see you have made it."

He was right, I didn't have any idea. He seemed so nonchalant.

"Ah, so this is Lauren," another voice said from behind, startling me. When I turned, a female appeared from another room, probably Tai's girlfriend. She was attractive, like Tai, except was wearing a white lab coat, and had a normal pair of glasses on. The slim cheetah spoke with an English accent. "Pleasure to meet you. Honestly, you're quite a bit smaller than I imagined. My name is Minerva. And who's your handsome friend here?"

"Jake," said the Doberman, shaking Minerva's paw. "Jake Kirby."

I just frowned, but to distract from this digression on my physical appearance, I pulled the data device from my pocket and held it toward Malikov. He just stared at it intently, not yet grabbing it from my paw. "Ah ha," he said slowly, replacing those goggles with glasses. He examined it closely, grabbing it with his large paw and twisting it while I still held it.

"Interesting... Do you mind?"

I nodded quickly, then finally relinquished the data device. "What're you going to do with it?" I asked.

Malikov seemed to ignore me as he slid it into a small box attached to a larger one, each with their own unique sets of glowing parts. The bigger box I assumed was the CPU, since it seemed to flicker the most and make the most noise. After the device was inserted, though, a light turned on in the CPU, a bright red one I suppose to indicate the presence of alien technology. Or that the alien data drive was now active. Or something. The doctor just stared at the screen, which I could barely see, while his colleagues came in close to view what was on it as well. Minerva seemed especially interested, who I gathered was Malikov's protégé, unlike Tai whose job it probably was to go out and get things the good doctor needed, like coffee or alien captives.

And for a long while, after Malikov told Tai to make us comfortable, the two scientists just studied everything there was to study on the device, the silence deafening. Every so often they made quiet little remarks to themselves as they flipped from screen to screen, pointing at the monitors and rubbing their chins.

After such a long, painful, arduous journey, it all seemed like disappointing and anticlimactic ending to my sad and exciting story. Of course, it didn't end entirely there, but as far as saving the planet goes, my job was done. There was no big bang, no grand explosion, at least not yet, but instead I simply sat quietly inside Malikov's home, waiting for his plans to be revealed and come to fruition.

And as it turns out, days later, Malikov chose me to share my personal tale with every Aknar aboard Valhalla, strategically placing his signals where it would reach the vast majority, but somehow skip those who would figure out what was going on (who would inevitably tell the child-ships to change all their codes). For obvious reasons, the broadcast wouldn't go to the child-ships, and hopefully they wouldn't pick the message up, either. It was risky, but to fight this battle with as little bloodshed as possible, we had to try it. It took quite a bit of time to configure and reconfigure all of his little dishes and sensors and whatever else, relying on his own knowledge to do this, as well as Valhalla's blueprints, rather than getting help from Vorpal. They had no doubt talked at great lengths on how to bypass particular signals and so forth, since they'd secretly been communicating for two whole years.

Anyway, my appeal to the Aknarii...well it wasn't the worst speech I'd ever given. I was nervous as hell, and really had no idea what to say, so I started off by describing my story, how it began back at the bus station and ended with a terrific crash-landing back on Earth. I told them about my journey through the forests, how I lost everyone I'd ever loved, and how I was taken from the planet and experimented upon. I described as best I could the blinding pain I went through and the tortures I had to endure (as well as the dozens of furry corpses I saw lying on their tables) just to make it back here alive, to help save my planet in any way I could. I then told the aliens how their own people, who had obviously deceived them, were currently waging war on our planet, committing mass genocide upon my people, destroying the lives of millions of innocent furs. Much to my own surprise, I cried for a good portion of my speech, which I was told later was perfect. I ended everything by begging them to do something about it, to stand up and save a dying species from their own people's claws, those who lied to them to get away with murder.

Unfortunately, after a couple weeks, after receiving several transmissions from Vorpal, although there was a strong uprising, it wasn't enough to push for any serious results. While the attacks did seem to lessen, and even stopped for a full twenty-six hours before continuing, Malikov was still given no choice but to go to the government and strike back.

He showed them everything on the data device, and explained where he'd gotten it, and they were eager to listen. He explained to them exactly what they were going to do, which seemed incredibly bold on his part, but I was impressed at how compliant they were. The reason Jake and I were there, by the way, was because after Malikov explained where he'd gotten the data device from, I was told I was to brief their people as best I could on anything that would help. I wasn't sure just how helpful I really was, but at least I got to see some really cool stuff. Most of it was classified, of course. Naturally, I failed to mention how my right arm could turn into a gun, and I thanked God their metal detectors didn't pick up any signals, which I found quite fascinating. I wonder if Vorpal knew that...

Anyway, after a day or two of strategic planning, our military was ready to finally strike back. We all held our breath as each code was entered in whatever computer system they had - it was all very complicated, at least to me - as well as making sure they were perfectly coordinated with each country around the world with weapons strong enough to penetrate the child-ships' physical shields. And when the last code was finally entered, all around the world the missiles fired.

And that, I must say, was the one of the most heart-pounding moments of my life, watching on the screen as the colourful, animated rocket fired upward, spread across twelve different screens, each one representing a different ship, until at long, agonizing last, each one struck precisely, perfectly timed.

And as soon as they hit, my head snapped to the live satellite feed, and I watched as an enormous explosion literally blasted a giant hole into one side of the ship, whichever ship it was, though much to my shock and surprise, it hadn't totally destroyed the ship. Instead, as it was later revealed to me, they'd simply targeted their engine core, completely and utterly destroying it, while the main ship remained largely intact. Each of the twelve child-ships slowly fell in a fiery blaze down toward the planet, and military moved in immediately, eventually securing each one. There was a bit of resistance at first, when the aliens began pouring out, but it didn't last long before they were overwhelmed.

Though I expected total annihilation of their ships and their people, who I suppose were now prisoners of war, our people showed incredible mercy in sparing their lives, which said far more about our Humanity than I ever would have. Of course, it was also soon revealed we needed as many Aknarii alive as we could, to use as leverage in getting our own people back from Valhalla. Clever move.

Though it wasn't quite as merciful as I'd thought, it must have taken some amount of negotiating on Dr. Malikov's part to convince our people not to strike back with the full force of their military, which was significant. Especially when the enemies didn't have shields. It would have been so easy for them to completely obliterate each child-ship, exacting revenge on the millions upon millions of innocent lives taken by them. But I suppose in some way, it was good the Aknarii were capturing furs as well, because if they weren't, nothing would have stopped us from utterly destroying all twelve of their child-ships, and that would have been a difficult burden for one skunk to bear. Especially a skunk with such delicate shoulders.

But in the end, despite the massive loss of lives on both sides, but more especially our side, the Aknar government made an appeal to ours, claiming ignorance on such attacks, and that the ones responsible would be taken care of swiftly, and justly. I think that meant executed. No aliens were allowed back on our planet, not even the civilians, but communications were left open, and I think even some form of trade was occurring between Earth and Valhalla, at least in knowledge. Maybe even technology, too.

On that note, Vorpal told me, weeks after the war, they had reopened their research on terraforming, and even took on some Earth scientists as well to help with the project. Apparently Mars was an adequate planet to attempt terraforming, though it would be many decades before that would even begin to occur.

As for Jake and I, we did eventually make it back home, though our city was completely totalled. As predicted, we had nothing to go back to, and like thousands of others, we offered some sort of memorial to those loved ones who'd lost their lives. Our government set up enormous camps all over the country in an attempt to help those who were now homeless, but having spent so much time travelling together, he and I decided to opt out and find our own way home.

We didn't really know where we were going, nor how we were going to get there, but whatever happened, we knew we would do it together, no matter what. After all, he was my boyfriend now, my mate for life, the most loving dog I'd ever met. Nothing was going to separate us, especially after the terrible journey we'd been through together. We had no destination, and though we debated for a long while on where we should head, nothing solid came to mind. And so with no plan in mind, paw-in-paw, Jake and I were once again northbound.