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"You're taking me off the case?" Detective William Donatti exclaimed in surprise. He stood in the office of his lieutenant at detective's headquarters. "Why?"

"Orders from up on high," was all Lieutenant Pullbrook would say. The big moose casually puffed on a Marlboro as he reclined at his desk. "That's all you need to know. Meantime, I'm reassigning you to this missing persons case."

He flung a file folder on the desktop with something like contempt. The squirrel frowned as he looked down at it. This was twice in one month that Pullbrook had seen fit to reassign him. But it was no use arguing with the Lieutenant, he knew. He nodded and sighed, and picked up the folder. He opened it. There were numerous files regarding the missing individual, a young teenage squirrel named Fernald Jeremy Smithers. There was a school photo of the kid attached to the file with a paperclip.

"You're overworked, Donatti," Pullbrook continued. That's why I'm giving you a case such as this."

"Let me guess," said William, looking up from the file. "Because it's pretty much a foregone conclusion the poor kid's a goner, and therefore an easy case?"

"Bingo," said the moose, and chuckled. "And you're to work on it mostly from home over the weekend. Morissey can handle the Slatterly case."

After a little further discussion about the Smithers case's background, William left Pullbrook's office, and decided to go home. Maybe Pullbrook was right, he thought, tossing the file folder into the empty passenger seat of his Kia sedan, the car which had replaced his unreliable Dodge Diplomat which had broken down a week ago, stranding him. Still, he thought as he drove home, while he didn't doubt Victor Morissey's abilities as a detective, William found it odd that after all the complaing Pullbrook had done about Mayor Slatterly breathing down his neck and demanding they solve his son's murder, the Lieutenant would take one of his men off the case with the flimsiest of explanations, leaving just the one to solve it. It seemed weird to him. Oh well, he thought as he pulled into the apartment complex's parking lot, he'd worry about it on Monday.

Leaving the Smithers file folder in the car, having forgotten it in his confusion during the drive home, William went upstairs to his apartment, the one he all but shared with Jeff. To his mild annoyance and confusion, Jeff wasn't there. Typical. The rabbit tended to come and go as he pleased, almost always forgetting to leave a note. Feeling a bit hungry, he wandered into the kitchen and opened his freezer. Apart from some leftovers and microwavable TV dinners, there wasn't much to eat. He simultaneously felt his appetite wane and also grow stronger. He wanted some real food. Shutting the freezer door, he decided to go out to eat, and went into his bedroom, where he changed clothes.

As he dressed, he pondered on where to go. He thought of Maxi's, a joint Jeff had recommended to him more than once. It was a local gay bar but which also served good food. "Will," he'd said, "you're a nice guy and the sex is fucking great, but, you know, I'm not readly to settle down. And you aren't ready to have me."

William had protested that precisely the opposite was true, but Jeff had pushed the issue of Maxi's. "Go to Maxi's. Yeah, the guy who runs it is a shameless fag, but nice guys go there. All the tough as nails bikers and shit protect it, so there won't be any trouble. Hell, some of your buddies from the precinct stop by there nightly." Maxi, he'd explained, was a six-foot tall drag queen who was always armed and spent hald his day fistfighting to stay in shape. He also had a thing for panties. And he was a poodle.

William had found this hard to quite believe. "It'll do you good," Jeff had insisted. "I like you a lot, but you need someone you can go out in public with. Someone whose pictures won't get you before a judge."

This had been the first time Jeff had mentioned this possibility to his older lover. Eventually, the matter had dropped, and things had returned to normal. But now, as he finished dressing, William thought more and more about Maxi's, and decided to go. He left his apartment and went and got into his car. As he started the motor up, he noticed the Smithers case file folder sitting in the passenger seat. He realized he'd forgotten it before. He debated whether or not to take it up to his apartment before leaving, then decided he'd do it when he came home.

He drove to Maxi's, parked, and went inside. It was a fairly typical restaurant and bar combo, in that "neighborhood bar and grill" style that was popular these days, but staffed and frequented entirely by males. William felt naked. Sure, he was clothed, but it had been a long time since he'd worn just a shirt and slacks. He was so used to the suit he wore for his job as a detective, and he couldn't remember the last time when his idea of dressing down hadn't been anything other than just taking off his jacket and tie.

Despite his experience with the force and his handling of more than a few violent perps, William felt nervous, but managed to suck it up enough that he went and had a seat at one of the tables. He ordered a drink from the slinky feline waiter who wore a tied-off shirt and daisy dukes. A wine cooler, just for starters. The waiter was gone and back in a few moments with his drink. When asked if he'd like to order his food, William told the young feline he'd like a minute or two to look over their menu. The waiter nodded and sashayed off.

Over at the bar, there was a lion who'd been sitting for a few hours prior to William's entrance, glancing back at people and chatting with a few folks, getting names and numbers, but overall not really moving. He was a slow drinker. He'd been there three hours and was only on his second drink, and that was after a burger and fries. So far it'd been a pretty dull night for him, but the blonde-haired squirrel caught his eye. He was fairly big for a squirrel, the lion noticed, broad-shouldered and wide-chested. He was intrigued. With a nod to the bartender, who smiled at the lion and went about polishing the counter, the big feline slipped off the barstool and took his drink over to William's table. The squirrel turned and looked at him.

"Hey there," the lion said in greeting. "Feel up for having someone join you?"

"Sure," William said. "Room for two here." With a small smile, he used his foot underneath the table to push a chair out for the lion. "Have a seat. Maybe then everyone'll stop staring at me."

He gave a little chuckle. Indeed, a lot of the club's patrons - the larger ones, he noted with something like unease - had been looking at him ever since he entered and ordered the untouched wine cooler sitting in front of him. He finally opened the bottle using a bottle-opener provided - that is, simply left on the table - and brought it to his lips. He took a small sip. It had a peach flabor he rather liked.

The lion settled himself into the seat and then propped it back onto two legs. "Ah, thanks," he said, setting his glass on the table in front of him. "Name's Pebble." He offered a hand across the table.

William raised a brow at the name the lion gave him, but made no comment. He took Pebble's offered hand and shoot it. "Name's William."

He had a firm grip in keeping with his masculine appearance. The lion smiled and intertwined his fingers with William's own, but made no real move to let go of the squirrel's hand when the handshake was done. William observed this, but, not wishing to appear rude, and deciding that Pebble was obviously hitting on him, he allowed it for the moment.

"So what do you do?" Pebble asked.

William took another sip of his cooler. "I'm a cop," he said of himself. "Detective. And you?"

"I'm into market research and stuff."

William took another tiny sip and swallowed. "Market research, huh?" He smiled at the paltry elaboration. "Stuff" was hardly explanatory.

Pebble nodded a bit. "Never seen you in here before," he observed. "First time?"

The squirrel said, "I'm not really what you'd call a social drinker."

"Cops see shit I wouldn't even dream of. But still, if your going to drink in public, it's nice to chat with people sometime." There was a brief pause. He still gently clasped the squirrel's hand.

At the mention of shit the lion couldn't even dream of, William's mind wandered uncomfortably to the recent murder of Mayor Slatterly's prostitute son. Slatterly breathing down their necks was at least one reason for the stress Jeff had sought to rid William of. Why, then, was he less than thrilled now that Pullbrook had reassigned him to a different case? He shrugged and took another drink from the bottle, a little deeper this time. It gurgled audibly.

"I only came here because my boyfriend Jeff recommended it," he said after a moment.

"You know Jeff?" Pebble asked with a small smile.

William was slightly taken aback, but not surprised Pebble knew of Jeff. If the rabbit came here often, surely he knew the regulars. "Uh, yeah," he replied. "Jeff Strouden. Medium height, dark gray, long black hair?"

Pebble nodded. "Yeah, I know him. Nice kid. We've talked a few times before. He's fun, but flighty. He's all right, though. Good kid. I take it you and your boy have a open relationship or something?"

Nodding as he swallowed another gulp, William exhaled contently, for he adored flavored wine coolers, he said, "Yes, Jeff and I aren't exactly... exclusive. I'd like us to be, but he's such a free spirit that he clearly isn't ready for a committed relationship. I've never found any evidence that he himself sees other guys, but he certainly encourages me to get out and have fun without him."

"A shame. You seem like a nice guy."

The squirrel gave a smallish smile at being called nice. "Nice. Heh. Usually that's when whoever it is I'm dating exits stage right. And yet here you remain. Things are looking up."

William felt a little nervous speaking his mind aloud like this, without even the excuse of being drunk. He eyed Pebble. The lion was quite handsome, but were predators his type? He wasn't sure. He'd never dated one. Did he want the lion for that? For a quickie? A one-night stand? Or merely as a friend? Christ, he thought, he just met him, and already he was weighing relationship possibilities. He allowed his thumb to caress the side of Pebble's in their still held together hands. Shy, he wasn't.

"Yeah," said Pebble, "you're nice. Not as hard boiled as some cops and clearly at ease with yourself to visit Maxi's."

"I'm unsure what all it has to offer besides decent food, good drinks and... even better company."

The lion chuckled. "I'm good friends with Maxi himself, the owner. I invested to help him get the place set up. At first, I was worried, but sexualty in this city is more accepted and Maxi's got some tough SOB's who would bite it for him, so I don't worry about homopobic bastards making it tough for him. You visiting will help things a lot."

"I'm not too worried about homophobes," said William. "I live right down the hall from one. Jeff's father. Guy all but calls me a fag to my face all the time." He gave a derisive snort and took another, longer drink from the wine cooler. Setting it aside, he said, "Besides, I can handle myself in a tussle." He looked at the bottle. "Mm, as great as this tastes, I think I could do with something a little stronger. What do you usually get?"

"Normally apple cider," was the feline's reply. "What can I say? I have a thing for apple juice really and apple juice with booze is a turn on for me."

"Apple cider?" William said, surprised. "He'd pegged the lion as more of a hard drinker. "I may not be much of a drinker, but I tend to prefer a beer or something of that nature."

"Yeah, I like the bite, and it's not too strong," said Pebble. "It helps keep my mind clear, yet it still grants me the kind of buzz that most booze does."

The lion proceeded to squeeze William's hand in his own and up under the table, one of his legs scooted forward just a touch so that he can press his toes against the squrriel's calf. William suddenly froze as he felt something touching his leg. A foot. It seemed his new friend wanted to play footsie. Not a problem. William didn't mind. In fact he gave a smile to wordlessly convey his appreciation for the gesture, and even returned the hand squeeze.

"A bit forward aren't you?" he said. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"Always," the feline responded, eyes lidded a bit, a slow smirk spreading across his muzzle. "Gay guys tend to play as many games as girls do, and I simply don't have time for it. I figure within the first fifteen mintues, someone coming here knows what they want, if they are gonna bone this guy or lift tail, even if they don't realize it. Me, I cut though all that bullshit. Doesn't make me a good romantic, but whatever."

"I guess," the squirrel said, conceding Pebble's point.

Under the table, the lion's foot slowly slid up the squirrel's leg. His other slid across the top of his shoe. Squirrels had such interesting feet, after all. Thinking he knew what it was the lion wanted, William slid one foot free so Pebble could slide his toes over his foot. He was wearing socks, but they were of the very thin dress variety, and so the contours and details of his foot could be easily felt. Despite himself, he felt a lazy arousal growing in his pants, causing his slacks to tent ever so slightly. Pebble's foot did its best to work around the squirrel foot, stroking and rubbing those odd, grasping toes all squirrels had. His other foot slid between William's thighs, his toes prodding at the growing bulge in William's pants. The sole soon came flush with that bulge, the tips of Pebble's toes wriggling at the waistline of the pants, the heel pressing against the seat cushion, and the lion gently exerting pressure to the hardening cock concealed within the slacks. William squirmed a bit.

"So, in that case," he said, "under the heading of life is too short, can I possibly buy you another drink? Maybe even dinner? My treat."

He smiled fully now. He had a very winning smile, full of mirth and charm. It was a wonder he didn't break it out more often. But considering his job, maybe it wasn't such a wonder, after all. He had little to smile about, day to day.

Pebble laughed a bit. "Well, I'm good on the booze and Maxi already fed me, but sure, let's go out somewhere nice... after we go back to my hotel room." This last bit was added after a short little pause, and in a lower, huskier voice.

William had just been about to fish out his wallet for the purposes of buying Pebble's drink when the lion said this, and was left more than a little surprised. A hotel room? Already? It didn't surprise William that his new friend was staying at a hotel in town. After all, that four hour drive to and from his home could be tedious if done the same day.

"Really?" he asked, sounding a little uncertain.

Admittedly, he'd had sex with Jeff their very first night together, but that had been very unusual for him. Prior to that, he hadn't much liked "fast" guys. But Jeff had changed that opinion. Despite this, his old-fashioned way of looking at dating tended to creep back in now and then. He didn't exactly protest, but he wasn't exactly leaping at the opportunity, either. The squirrel, though, started being won over by his base desires.

The lion took his sweet time working away at William's foot and crotch. He felt that feet were often neglected by males and females alike, when they had so many nerves and were so much a part of one's daily life that it was hard to believe so little attention went towards the manner of locomotion. For five long minutes, the lion rubbed, stroked and caressed and worked over the socked foot before him, carefully locating the area with the greatest number of nerves and working it over with a toe claw. The more Pebble stroked along his socked foot, the harder William became. He didn't have a foot fetish or anything, but the overtly amorous intent of the stroking was doing much to fan the flames of arousal within the squirrel.

"Hell, I may be bold, but I like you, from what I can tell, you like me, so let's save the wining and dining for later."

William ultimately nodded. "Sure. That sounds fine. Where are you staying at?"

"The Lux, the nicest one of course. Come on."

Abruptly, the lion's feet were removed from William, and Pebble got up, leaving the squirrel sitting there rather hot and bothered, his cock tenting his pants. With a slight frown, he slid his foot back into his shoe, paid for his wine cooler, and then followed Pebble out, feeling slightly embarrassed by the looks the tent in his trousers got him. It had abated slightly by the time they got outside, though.

"Whose car do we take?" he asked. "Yours or mine?" He could see his Kia, which he pointed out to his companion, but had no idea what type of vehicle the lion drove.

"Yours will be fine," Pebble said. Of his own vehicle being left behind, he said, "Mine will be all right. No one steals cars from around Maxi's." He gave a brief kiss to the squirrel's cheek.

"Sure thing." William nodded, and then blinked, taken by surprise at the kiss.

He hesitated a moment before leaning in in an attempt to return the gesture, but the lion was already walking to the car and getting in, sitting on the Smithers case's file folder, which he apparently hadn't noticed or attached any importance to.

William cleared his throat, and trotted 'round and got in, himself. As he slid behind the wheel, he turned to say something to Pebble about the folder, and was greeted by the lion's lips against his own. A second kiss. He shut his eyes. This time, he returned it, leaning in just a little as he kissed back. This time, the kiss wasn't a simple thing, but one of those hot and heavy affairs. William hadn't even shut the door before this kiss began, and it hung open as squirrel and lion lips met. It was a gay neighborhood, so no one was going to care about a squirrel and a lion making out in a car. And boy, did the lion know how to make out!

The rough feline tongue was applied to William's muzzle and slipped inside to explore over each one of his teeth and when that is done, the squirrel obligingly opening his mouth willingly to the lion, letting that rough sandpaper tongue inside to explore his dental work. His jaw went slack as he felt the tongue carress each of his teeth, and shivered as it then encircled his own, smooth rodent one, which slapped against it and wriggled as though trying to break free from the other tongue's hold, a fair amount of spit bring swapped.

The squirrel squirmed a little in the car seat. William gently sliding his lips against Pebble's, leaning further and further over into his passenger's side of the car, gripping the steering wheel for support to he didn't topple over into the lion's lap. His cock swelled harder and harder inside his pants.

Finally, he was released, the lion only ending the kiss when he was sure the poor fellow was in need of air. William leaned leaned back over into his own side of the vehicle so abruptly it was if he'd snapped back like a rubber band. He was left panting slightly.

"Good grief," he managed at last, smiling. "That was some kiss!" he exclaimed lowly.

The lion sat upright as if nothing had happened at all, and motioned to the road. "I've learned a few arts in my time, like how to kiss. Faster you get to the hotel, faster we can get you out of those clothes, yes?

William numbly shut the door and buckled his seat belt. Starting the motor, he pulled out and took the shortest route he knew of to the Lux Hotel.

To Be Continued...