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Chapter XXX - Time and Changes

I could get used to this.

Arlen held Sato's hips still so he could thrust up into the wolf in his lap, bottoming out in him as his boyfriend gasped and the cat kneeling in front of them both gave a slight choking noise and shot Arlen an annoyed but playful glare as she gripped the wolf's cock and slurped her tongue up the half-length she'd buried in her muzzle.

Arlen felt the flutters of Sato's impending climax trembling up and down his cock, and ground against the wolf again, biting his shoulder lightly as his growling purr vibrated through them both. Looking over Sato's shoulder, he saw the naked calico stroking both paws up and down the wolf's bright red shaft, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

He reached around his boyfriend's hip and slipped a paw around his knot, feeling it pulsing and stone-hard in his grip.

"He'll cum in a...Mmf...Second."

Tam looked up at him and grinned around her mouthful in about the sexiest way he'd ever seen, and Arlen clenched his paw, squeezing the knot, causing Sato to give out a sound somewhere between a yelp and a bark. The clenching on Arlen's cock caused him to grunt and start pumping the wolf full of his seed, teeth digging in, as the squeeze of his own paw set the wolf to spasming and filling Tam's muzzle with copious wolf spunk.

The cat made a gurgling noise, forgetting to swallow as the vibrator they'd belted into her set her off too, hunching her hips against the mechanical penis as cum slopped from her lips.

Yeah...Could definitely get used to this...

Six months had passed since they first found out she was pregnant, and Tasha was showing to the point that she felt like a balloon. She was sitting on the couch they had needed to get shipped in all the way from Buenos Aires so she could have something soft to lounge on.

One thing is true everywhere. Television is the most idiotic thing ever...

She sighed and flipped the channel from one game show to the next, and gazed over at the clock. Tristan wouldn't be home for three hours, and it made her want to pout like a little girl.

Instead, she slowly got up, resting a paw on her bulging belly as the kit inside kicked and stirred, bringing a warm flush to her cheeks. She was still getting used to the idea of becoming a mother, but in the way that she was very much looking forward to it. She worried, of course, for the child's future, but she and Tristan had agreed to take things as they came on that front.

The vixen felt sluggish, tired all the time now, and getting around the ski town had become impossible. Trying to ski with her balance so far gone would be suicidal, not to mention just plain stupid treatment of her unborn child. Thus, if she needed anything, she had to send Tristan for it. Not that the wolf seemed to mind at all. He loved to ski, and loved her.

As some talkshow or another came on, she reached the counter and started setting up for tea, rubbing her belly as her back and footpaws gave her distinctly disapproving throbs for her temerity in standing.

God, if I'm this bad at six months I don't want to know what term is going to be like...

They hadn't been able to get an ultrasound. Such a thing would require going to a big city with a more modern medical facility. The doctor suspected they might be having twins, which would explain why she felt so bloated and ungainly all the time, she figured.

She'd gotten halfway back to the couch when she realized she was smelling gas. Tasha turned around and waddled back over, her slender athletic frame having trouble with the balled weight at its center. The vixen shut off the burner and was reaching over the sink to open the window and vent the gas when a sudden pain blasted its way from her groin to her spine and up her chest.

Tasha gasped, grabbing the counter for support as her legs suddenly gave out. Heart racing, she looked down, to see blood soaking through her loose skirt.

"NO!"

Another surge of pain and she slipped away from the counter, landing hard on her side, her paws clutching at her belly as muscle spasms started radiating out from it.

"Sh-shit! Ungh!"

Desperately, she clawed her way across the floor, digging her paws against the hardwood flooring as she pulled her way towards the wall-mounted phone not ten feet away.

In six months, Tam had been back to the Carmel house five times to visit Sato and Arlen, though she saw Arlen much more often as he was in and out of the office, and spoke to Sato just about every day to put their heads together analyzing the intelligence everyone else brought them.

Their team had expanded, been sent to Mogadishu to find Simon Gecko, come back empty-pawed except for having killed a dozen or so very unfortunate gun dealers who had tried to take the unit's toys away in a violent fashion.

She walked back into her shared corner office at the top of the Goza Industries building in Chicago, and tossed a rubber-banded, bulging file folder on her co-worker's desk. His chair turned away from the window, and the light grey-furred mouse who was his housemate and secretary picked up the file folder to start leafing through it while Tam flopped into her spinny ergo-chair.

"Summary, please?" Lamia always sounded so uptight, Tam mused, as she put her footpaws up on her own messy desk. Tam responded without looking over at her, tossing a stress squeezy ball in the air.

"Fifteen offers of people looking for our services, ranging from the silly to the serious. I've already got actionable intelligence on the three at the bottom marked 'best job opportunities.' Up to Buck's approval though."

Lamia nodded and offpawedly discarded most of the first half of the file to start going through the second, one paw turning pages while the other took down shorthand notes on a notepad.

Rainclouds were passing over the city, threatening but not quite delivering, and Tam kind of wished they would. She batted at the pull cord for the blinds, bouncing it off the window with a little click-click as she spoke up again.

"How are things with you and Buck?"

Lamia didn't look up, just responded while continuing to take notes.

"Cleanest man I have ever known. I rarely have to pick up socks off couch."

Tam snorted in amusement. It sounded about right, and yet the mouse had evaded the real point of her questioning. Which she was happy to be blunt enough to point out.

"I mean how are you guys doing as a couple?"

Lamia's pen scratched for a few more seconds before she gave an annoyed sigh and looked across at the cat. Her English was good enough now to know when she was being nettled, and pick up on a lot of the subtleties. Her accent was still strong enough to cut cheese, though.

"He is more than tvice my age. Vich he reminds me of often." She looked back down to keep writing. "Vich does not bother me at all. He know vat he is doing. In more vays than boys my age."

Tam quirked a brow and turned her chair towards the mouse, surprised the very conservatively-suited mouse could say that sort of thing without blushing or even stammering. Full of surprises, the mouse was.

"So he's actually accepted that you're a mated pair?"

Lamia shrugged and kept writing, though she did get a bit of a smile on one corner of her lips, wry and amused.

"He does not say no to having sex on balcony ven I vant. How are you and your gay boys doing?"

It was Tam's turn to blush, and the calico started laughing.

"Okay okay you win, I'll stop asking!"

Lamia's smile faded suddenly and she stopped writing. Tam got up and walked over, knowing the mouse had found something she herself had missed.

The mouse held a piece of paper up, with a few red circles on it, and lines drawn together. Tam's eyes picked out the location; Sao Paolo, the same hospital she had been in some years ago during that whole ugly business. A few other lines were picked out, filled with numbers, things that had likely been supplied by their paid informant within the Brazilian financial system.

"Summary?" she shot back to the mouse.

"That bank account number match von that Sato think is connected to Gecko."

Tam frowned and went back to her desk, grabbing up the phone to call Arlen.

"No idea what it means though?"

Lamia shook her head and clucked her tongue.

"Just that somvone attached to Gecko is in hospital."

When Tristan had gotten home from work an hour early, he'd been hoping to cook a nice dinner and make very careful love to his fiancé. Finding her curled up tightly on the kitchen floor with blood soaking her skirt and pooling on the floor under her had nearly killed him, dashing his hopes for the evening and hurling him into emergency mode.

An hour later, aboard a hospital chopper that had flown to them from Buenos Aires, he didn't even consider that the cost might exceed their careful nest egg. He was holding Tasha's paw as the semi-conscious vixen was being pumped full of emergency plasma and medicines to try slowing down whatever was wrong down below.

She managed to force her eyes open, bloodshot and filled with tears, and tried to talk over the roar of the helicopter cabin.

Tristan couldn't make it out, even leaning to the point that her lips were brushing his ear, so instead he kissed her, yelling that things would be all right.

When he pulled away from the kiss, one of the paramedics shoved him out of the way, and bent over her to start CPR.

He sat helpless in the back of the helicopter as they resuscitated her once, then ten minutes later a second time. It was all he could do not to scream or burst into tears, as he watched them work to save her life. The wolf couldn't help but think that this was his fault, though he knew she would hit him just for saying it.

Landing atop the hospital led to a frantic flurry of motion as doctors and nurses took custody of his fiancé as soon as she was off the chopper. He followed, as far as he was allowed, down into the ramps that ran from the roof down to the operating rooms, only to be stopped just outside the surgical theatre by a burly orderly's paw on his chest.

Guessing correctly at the wolf's nationality, the big ursine spoke in accented English.

"You stay out here, contamination risk, you understand?"

Tristan nearly hauled off and hit the bear, balling his fist. Something in its eyes changed when he did, and he backed off, holding up his paws in surrender, though he was bouncing with anxiety.

"F-fine, fine! Fuck..."

The orderly pointed to a row of chairs, and Tristan went to them, then started pacing back and forth instead.

Within five minutes, a small mousy mouse woman with long white headfur approached, holding a clipboard that she offered to him.

"Medical history for your wife. Please fill it out, along with insurance or payment information on the following pages."

He stared at her over the top of the metal writing pad for a few seconds, shocked they would be so blatant about payment when his fiancé might not even be alive...

Tristan took the clipboard with a bit more force than he wanted, fairly snatching it from her paws as he dug out his pen and started trying to fill in the medical information, only to realize he didn't even know Tasha's parents' names, or if Tzarov was even her real surname. Not that he could really use their actual names, given his uncle might have a mole somewhere in the building.

Gotta use the nest egg for now...Shit, I hope it doesn't run out.

He knew the slush account he'd created secretly back when he was still with his uncle would cover things. He just didn't want to risk using it. While his uncle had never found out about it, to his knowledge, it had been created using the computer that had gone missing when those mercenaries had raided the hotel.

Two hours after he'd handed the paperwork back, he finally had to sit. His legs just hurt too much to keep pacing, muscles clenched up from anxiety and fear, that he'd never see her alive again, that their child wouldn't survive...Lukewarm offers of comfort from sympathetic nurses had gone ignored, though he'd taken the lukewarm hospital coffee.

The squeak-squeak of wheels got his attention, jolting him out of the fugue of dark thoughts he'd been fighting through. He looked up, and his heart dropped through his chest when he saw a gurney rolling up. The wolf held his breath without realizing it, as the thing rolled past, and he blew out the breath at the understanding that the vehicle for corpses was headed somewhere else.

Then a second vehicle rolled up, pushed by an orderly being escorted by a nurse. It was covered over with white cloth, and for some reason his exhausted mind was certain it was a coffin. Tears started to slide down his face, dripping into the coffee as it rolled into his fiancé's operating room.

Now I have nothing...

He wasn't sure how long it took for the gurney to roll back out, covered again with the white sheet. A surgeon followed it, his gloves stripped off and apron bloodied.

"Mister Lizardley?"

Okay I could have been more creative with the fake name...

He stood up, offering his paw to shake automatically, despite feeling so dead inside he thought he might just fall over. Maybe the gurney that rolled by before would come back around for him.

The lemur doctor shook his paw firmly, and gave him a tired smile.

"She will live, though she's in a coma right now from blood loss. Let me be the first to congratulate you on being a father of two baby girls."

Tristan's mind blanked out. The doctor's words were heard, processed, and then dumped by something that couldn't reconcile them at first with what he had just seen. Wordlessly, he pointed at the receding vehicle.

"Incubators. Three months premature. You're lucky you chose to come here. Nobody else could have saved them."

Tristan threw his arms around the surgeon, uncaring about the blood smearing onto his shirt.