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It's all trouble

It's all trouble

'Cause you want to feel it, you want to feel it

But you don't believe in it

(Susanne Sundfør)

---

The only redeeming qualities of West Saaduuts--nay, the only reason West Saaduuts should even exist--are the vistas of the good parts of Saaduuts that it offers and the fact that it has the common decency to be located far enough away from everything else that it doesn't stink up the rest of the city with all its godsdamn industry and shipping. Then again, nothing was going to change the fact that I had to pay that godsforsaken neighborhood a visit.

My car rumbled along the crumbling viaduct, the blinding glare of the late-afternoon sun dazzling my eyes. I fumbled for my sunglasses in the glove box as I squinted in the unseasonably bright sunlight. Add 'horrible road orientation' to the list of things wrong with West Saaduuts, I suppose. Massive traffic accident just waiting to happen, I tell you. Saaduutsites simply weren't prepared for that strange bright orb in the sky when it put in a rare appearance.

Tabitha stood thigh-deep in the murky water of the Port of Saaduuts when I pulled into the dockyard lot. Dressed in her black one-piece bathing suit, she busied herself transferring shoebox-sized shipping containers onto a cargo ship.

Tabitha's eyes snapped towards me as I called out to her, standing on the concrete dock next to the ship she was helping to load.

"You shouldn't be here," she mumbled, wiping off her hands on her hip.

"Don't worry. I'm not trespassing," I flashed the visitor badge I'd received at the gate.

The giantess rolled her eyes. "I meant, I don't want you to be here,"

"I have to check on you. See how the community service is going,"

"I know that," she replied shortly. "It's just... it's embarrassing. I don't want to do this. I feel like a complete fool,"

Tabitha rounded the ship, sitting down on the edge of dock. She kicked her legs back and forth idly, dark water swirling and eddying around them.

"I'm really sorry, Tab," I approached her hip slowly. "But this is how you need to make up for..."

I trailed off as Tabitha fixed me with her steely gaze. All the same, she reached down, placing a hand palm-up on the concrete. I hesitated before clambering on, gripping onto her uplifted thumb as she lifted me faceward. Her hand was slightly damp from the water and smelled of oil and steel.

"How are your therapy sessions with Dr. Attwood coming along?" I asked.

My fur ruffled as Tabitha snorted derisively. "That quack? He's a fucking joke. Just a bunch of stupid questions and none of this 'help' that I'm supposedly needing,"

"I'm sorry you feel that way," I replied cautiously, choosing my words carefully. Tabitha had been more... volatile of late. She was improving, but I really didn't want her to remember I was in a position such that she could crush me without much effort if she really wanted. "I thought you'd like Attwood. I made sure the court let would allow me to specially select your therapist. He has impressive credentials. Nice guy, too. More, erm, normal than most of the folks they were trying to foist off on you,"

"The only credentials that man has are in the field of crumpet selection. Seriously. He fucking consumes those things like his life depends on it. Polishes off a box of the things every session I have with him. It's a real wonder he doesn't weigh 500 pounds,"

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "I've noticed that. But you really need to give him a chance. It's important. You need help from someone like him. And I'm sure you want it, too,"

Tabitha's ears flattened and her eyes flashed. "Don't tell me what I want,"

"But it's true," I said gently. "Tabitha, you're your own biggest enemy in this whole thing. Cliché as it may be, it's true. You are surrounded by people who care about you and want to help you. We love you,"

"Ciaran doesn't love me," a ragged sob escaped involuntarily from Tabitha's chest. "I visited him--tried to visit him--yesterday. But Dad wouldn't let me see him. Ciaran hates me,"

I shook my head again, sinking slightly onto the surface of the ferretess' palm. "You shouldn't have done that. You know that wasn't a good idea. Not allowed in the least, either,"

"I don't care about any of that. I just want things to be normal again. But they never will be,"

"You don't know that. You just need to give Ciaran time. Let him put things in order. You owe him that,"

"But I--"

"You can't rush this. He needs to take a break from you. I'm sorry. But that's just how it is,"

Tabitha sniffed and momentarily opened her mouth to speak before changing her mind. She set me gently back on the dock before standing up and wading silently around the boat again, busying herself with more container-loading.

Conversation abruptly ended, I turned and picked my way along the busy dock back towards the lot and my car. It was going to be a long ride back to Saaduuts. I still didn't know whether I pitied Tabitha or feared her.

***********

***********

The smell of Reynard's fur was one of my favorite scents in the entire world. And now it was mine for the rest of my life. Okay, that came out slightly creepy.

I sat on his stomach, showering him with kisses as I drank in the rich, peppery scent, breathing heavily. The sheets were arrayed messily around us, some torn completely away from the bed.

"For a skinny fox, you're pretty godsdamn heavy, you know that," Reynard chuckled, his laughter jostling me up and down gently.

I giggled as Reynard grunted, knocking me onto my back and swapping our positions. His lips began to explore the contours of my neck and collar as I inhaled sharply.

"I love you," I massaged Reynard's back.

"Well, I love you. And I should hope so. Otherwise the past couple of years--hell, the last hours--have all been a clever ruse. Then again, you were always about the long con,"

"Mmm... hours..."

"Speaking of," Reynard interrupted his lingual expedition to glance over at the clock, "What do you want for breakfast?"

I guffawed, eyes wide in disbelief. "No way. No godsdamn way. It can't have been that long,"

"You better believe it," Reynard grinned toothily, winking at me.

"I don't believe it. Nobody does that. It's been... that doesn't happen outside the movies,"

"Hey, we took breaks,"

I shook my head numbly as Reynard slid out of bed, giving me a peck on the cheek. "Just promise me this won't happen _all_the time. Sleep is nice on occasion,"

"Just every other night, then," Reynard laughed in reply. "Breakfast?"

"Mm, I'm not that hungry," I shrugged. "I should probably get ready for work,"

Slipping out of bed, I pulled on a pair of slacks and a collared shirt. As a bathrobe-clad Reynard bustled around the kitchen, pouring himself a bowl of cereal, I fumbled with a tie.

"Want to go somewhere and have a nice dinner tonight?" Reynard asked as I grabbed my case. "Maybe have a proper engagement dinner?"

"Hey, last night was perfect. You slight yourself too much as a cook," I smiled. "But I'd like that,"

"I'll pick you up after work, then,"

Making my way down the stairs, I hurried through the lobby and out onto the street just in time to meet Tabitha on her way to MACRO. Back to the grind...

*****

"Suit Yourself, quality, speedy tailoring and alterations. How can I help you?"

"Reynard? Are you busy? Can I talk to you?"

"Ciaran? Is that you?"

"If you're busy, it's not a big deal. Doesn't matter,"

"Hey, I'm not doing anything. What's up?" I sat down at my desk, looping the cord around my finger. Needed to get some wireless office phones sooner or later. Though cord-untangling is a seriously underrated pastime.

Ciaran took a deep breath on the other end of the line. "It's just, I don't know what to do. My dad called and he wants me to come back--back to Winthrop,"

I blinked, running a hand through my tousled hair. "Well, um... you don't need to, you know. He doesn't own your life,"

"I know. I know. But you don't understand. He--he threatened me," Ciaran breathed. "He said that if I didn't 'get my tail back there he'd...' oh, I don't know. But I don't want to find out,"

My frown deepened. Things hadn't exactly been all that amicable between my dad and I when I'd been growing up, and I'd split at the first chance I got. Well, it was more of a Dad-telling-me-never-to-darken-his-doorstep-again thing, but I hadn't been back since. Judging by my conversations with Ciaran, it seemed as if his father wasn't any more eager for a reunion. So why the sudden need to see him?

"Well, you've got him now, don't you? We need to report him. That's a threat of violence. Bound to be of interest to the cops,"

Ciaran offered a noncommittal mumble.

"Ciaran, you... you've got to do something. I'll help as best I can, but you've got to tell someone. Someone who can take steps to stop your dad, that is,"

"But he's still my dad," Ciaran replied. "I couldn't--"

"You walked out of their house," I cut Ciaran off gently but firmly. "You owe them nothing. They failed you. It's not your fault,"

"Mmm,"

"If you want, I can help you out. Let's talk this over in person,"

"Er, I have to go," Ciaran murmured in reply.

"Ciaran, wait," I said hastily, but the mink hung up.

I exhaled forcefully, replacing the phone on the receiver. Combing my fingers through my hair, I stared at the phone before picking it up again.

"Hey, hon," I smiled as Roger answered. "Look, you got a minute? I need to talk to you about Ciaran,"

"What's going on? Is he doing alright?"

"Well, not really, it would seem," I sighed. "Sounds like his father is causing some... trouble. But when I told him that he needed to turn the bastard in, he got all hem-and-haw-y and hung up. He's still petrified of the guy,"

Roger didn't speak, so I continued. "I want to talk with Tabitha's father. He's bound to be able to help with something,"

"Well, you don't need my permission," Roger snorted. "I'll give him a call this afternoon,"

*****

"Thanks for having us over for dinner, Ed," I smiled, peeling and dicing the last potato before tossing it into the pot with the rest of its brethren.

"Hey, I have to find someone to chop my veggies for me," the wolverine chuckled. His face grew serious. "But it really is my pleasure. I've been concerned about Ciaran for a little while. So when you called, well, I figured it would be a good time to talk. Get some extra assistance,"

"No worries. But how do you want to broach things with him? I don't think it's a good idea to make it seem like we're ganging up on him or something like that,"

Ed shook his head. "Of course not. I figure we should just let him know that we're all supportive, let him talk about whatever's been on his mind at his own pace,"

It wasn't until we were all sitting around the table and Ed called Ciaran down to dinner that I realized how stilted it all felt. We chewed in silence punctuated only by stilted small talk and Ciaran's increasingly confused and suspicious stares.

"Ciaran, we all really want to help you," Reynard, ever the master of tact and subtlety, suddenly blurted through a mouthful of salmon.

Without uttering so much as a word, the mink pushed back from the table and vanished into his bedroom. Reynard rushed after him, ignoring my hissed warning. Ed and I sat by ourselves at the dinner table. Metal clinked as the wolverine dropped his fork onto his plate.

"I'm really sorry about Rey," I held out a hand. "He gets... carried away sometimes. But it isn't for a lack of caring,"

"I'm a shit father," Ed grunted, staring down at his plate. "Complete shit. I can't do a thing to help Tabitha. Tried and failed repeatedly at that.

"And Ciaran. I thought I had a chance to, I dunno, redeem myself or something like that with him. But he's so scared. I mean, one time, he slipped and accidentally called me 'Dad'. He was totally inconsolable after that. I have no idea what to do,"

"Well, it isn't like they handed out parenting guides, much less manuals for situations such as these," I tried to reassure him. "You're doing the absolute best you can. And that's all that matters,"

"But it isn't. I _can't_fail,"

"How about this. Did Ciaran's father call on your home landline?"

"Yeah...?"

"Good. Then his number will be on the call history. If you give it to me, I'll give the asshole a little call. It probably won't be enough to solve anything, but it's a start,"

Ed nodded slowly, crossing the room and flicking through the phone history. "Here it is," he said after a short while, copying down the number for me on a scrap of paper. "Thank you very much,"

"My pleasure," I smiled thinly. Yep, I really love phone conversations with crazy rednecks.

*****

Everyone had finally left me alone when I heard a tapping on the glass of my window. I uncurled myself unwillingly, rolling off the bed and shuffling towards the window. Undoing the clasp, I threw the window open.

"Hey, Ciaran,"

It was Tabitha. Crouched outside the apartment with a towel draped over her shoulder, she gripped the windowsill with her fingertips.

"I'm pretty tired right now," I murmured half-heartedly, hoping to circumvent her saying whatever it was she wanted.

"I was going to take a bath, if you wanted to join," the ferretess grinned mischievously.

I shook my head numbly. "It's been a long day. I've had a lot of... stuff going on,"

Tabitha pouted out a lip. "Why are you such a spoil-sport? I just wanted to have some fun,"

I didn't know that I would snap so quickly. I didn't even know I had it in me. But out it all came in a massive torrent.

"Tabitha, I asked--told you to leave me alone. What part of that didn't you understand? I don't want to go with you. I want to be alone. I want everyone to let me alone. Why don't you get it?"

"I just thought you'd want to spend some time with me," Tabitha replied, taken aback. She drew back her hand from the windowsill.

"Yeah, spend some time with you," I laughed coldly. "You. My 90-foot girlfriend. The bastion of normalcy in my life,"

Tabitha got to her feet, bending over so she was resting her hands on her knees, staring at me through the window, her expression wounded. "Hey, no need to get mean,"

"I just wish you'd think of someone other than yourself once in awhile," I turned away from the window.

Tabitha's expression changed to one of irritation and anger. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

I couldn't find the words answer, so I just turned my back on her, closing the window and drapes. Tabitha left silently as I returned to my bed, sitting with my chin propped up on my hand. I rocked back and forth slowly, tail twitching. That had been a mistake. I shouldn't have snapped like that. Not like it fixed anything.

All the same, though, I felt a pang of something--jealousy? anger?--as I thought about it all. Much as I loved Tabitha, it was so difficult to date her. She had all the insecurities and issues of any person our age, magnified on an immense scale. Every aspect of our relationship was fraught with problems, snafus--hell, even dangers--that would be unthinkable or laughable to anyone else. Sometimes, I really just wanted something normal in my life. A lot of the time.

*****

Becca was exceptionally insufferable that morning. As I waited outside MACRO for Roger to finish checking over the copy of my latest report, that damned ferretess sauntered out onto the balcony.

"Have a good evening, Tabitha?"

"Mm," I responded noncommittally, barely making eye contact. After our previous run-in, I really didn't want to talk with her.

"Good bath?" You could practically hear the smirk. "A nice illegal bath?"

I frowned, looking at Becca out of the corner of my eye. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, maybe 'illegal' is a bit strong of a term. But still. You can't just go bathing wherever the fuck you please. You can use Lake Stillaguamish during certain hours, and that's it," Becca retorted snippily. "It was my civic duty to report you to the proper authorities. Don't want some giantess befouling the water,"

"Becca... what the fuck?" I groaned. "It was cold out. And that's so far. It isn't like I hurt anyone or something like that,"

"Rules exist for a reason," Becca smiled sweetly. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly. "How are things with Ciaran?"

A slight frown creased my brow. "Fine? Not that it matters to you,"

"I see,"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing. Don't worry about it,"

Becca turned around with a final smirk, disappearing as silently as she had appeared. I followed her with my gaze, more than a little perplexed at the exchange. At least now I knew what Roger meant by "wanting to talk with me later." He knew that nobody used that old reservoir by Cap Hill anymore. It hadn't been a public water source for decades and was off-limits to everyone, anyway. Safety hazard or whatnot. The city council knew that as well.

As I slunk homeward that evening, nursing a bruised ego courtesy of Roger and his wrist-slapping, I stopped by Dad and Ciaran's apartment. The mink was sitting on his bed, talking on the phone. He was smiling slightly. He hung up as he noticed me, tossing the phone onto the comforter as he hastened over to the window and threw it open.

"Who were you talking to?" I asked, crouching down so I was face-to-face with my boyfriend.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Just a telemarketer or whatever," Ciaran replied hastily, glancing over his shoulder at the incriminating phone.

"You seemed pretty stressed about that chat with the telemarketer then," I snorted, arching a brow.

"So, how was your day?" Ciaran responded.

"It was--it was all right, I suppose," I said, a little bit confused by the abrupt change in the topic. "Got in a little trouble about the place I chose to bathe last night. Apparently it's a big deal with some folks. Well, at least one oh-so-delightful individual,"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ciaran said, noticing my brow furrow.

I shook my head. "No big deal. Really. I'm just done with Becca and her endless shit,"

Ciaran nodded. "Well, I have to get going. But I'll see you later,"

"Hot date or something?" I teased.

Ciaran's cheeks and ear-tips flushed briefly. "Of course not. Just a friend,"

"Well, have a good time doing whatever," I replied, pushing back to my feet. "I'll see you around,"

*****

I returned to my bed as Tabitha walked down the street, headed for her home. My gaze fell on the phone again and my stomach twinged. Why did I feel so guilt-ridden over the whole thing? It wasn't like it was the Seventeenth Century or something. I could spend time around girls other than just Tabitha. Hell, it would be nice to spend time with someone who couldn't carry me around in her pocket if she wanted to. I could have friends, couldn't I?

It was something of a happy coincidence that Brie had called that afternoon. I'd been feeling really down in the dumps after the events of the prior evening, so contact with anyone who didn't think they were on some sort of charitable mission to sort out my life for me or shelter me or whatever. There was a lot I needed to sort out in my life, but it was stuff I needed to work through myself.

I'd met Brie at Tabitha's welcome party during her first week at MACRO and run into her a handful of times since. She was an intern in the administrative section, working with Karl and some of the others on the logistical ins and outs of the organization. While perhaps a bit overbearing at times, the dovess really seemed nice and agreeable. I certainly wouldn't mind the chance to get to know her better.

Yet all the same, I couldn't ignore the guilty nagging at the back of my head. Why hadn't I told Tabitha? It wasn't some deep, dark secret or anything like that. Just two people meeting up for a movie and hanging out afterward. Whatever. I could deal with all that later. Just have fun. Do something normal for once. I deserved that.

*****

As calls with abusive, crazy rednecks go, things could probably be going worse. Then again, it wasn't as if I had a vast reserve of similar experiences to draw from for comparison. But I'd certainly dreaded worse.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Davies, but we can't just send Ciaran back to you," I repeated myself, leaning back on the overstuffed sofa and massaging my temples with the fingertips of my opposite hand. "But you are more than welcome to come visit him in Saaduuts. We want to work things out with you. Terms and the like. For Ciaran's sake,"

As Ciaran's father slurred out a response that I could barely comprehend, I took some quality self-pity time. Why did I agree to call? This isn't even really my problem, I grumbled inwardly. I'm such a godsdamn good Samaritan.

"Yes, he's here," I answered the never-ending barrage of questions. "He's living with--yes. Yes. Yes. Alright. We'll see. No, the Communists are not indoctrinating him into anything. He's staying with Mr. Crane. No, I can't just give you the address,"

Reynard popped his head around the corner of the kitchen door, arching a brow in derision as he mouthed 'dinner's ready'. I rolled my eyes back at him and gestured for him to start without me. I'd be wrapping this crap up pretty shortly, anyway.

"...so I'm not about to let a couple of West-siders push me around and--" Mr. Davies slurred on the other end of the line.

Okay, party time was over. It was time to lay down the law and get the fuck off the phone.

"--Here's how it's going to go down," I intoned flatly. "You're going to come to Saaduuts next weekend. I don't care if you drive here or if I come out to Winthrop and drag you back by your tail. And you're going to show up sober, you're going to talk through your issues with Ciaran, and you're going to leave him the fuck alone,"

Hearing no arguments on the other end of the line, I took it as a yes. "Next weekend. Show up at the Centennial Court Apartments Saturday evening. Or I'll kick your sorry ass myself,"

I hung up, tossing my phone onto the ottoman as I got to my feet.

"Dinner had better be fucking amazing. I'm starving," I commented.

"It's just take-out," Reynard replied, laughing. "Can't be too terrible. And if it is, well, it isn't my fault,"

"Is that the mail?" I asked, gesturing at a stack of letters on the kitchen island as I passed.

Reynard nodded as he spooned chow mein out of a white paperboard container onto his plate. "Yeah. Didn't get around to sorting out the crap yet. Sorry,"

"No worries," I replied, picking up the modest stack and sorting through it as I walked to the table and sat down. "I don't even know why we bother with sorting anymore. It's only ever junk mail anyway. And bills. Nobody loves us," I lamented.

"Hey, I love you," Reynard laughed. "Isn't that all that matters?"

"Well, I'd like to think that a few others are at least fond of me--hello there,"

Reynard looked quizzical as I sat down, holding up a grubby envelope addressed in an erratic hand to one 'Dearest Roger'. I tore open the envelope, skimming the sheet of paper inside with increasing concern.

"What is it?" Reynard asked through a mouthful of eggroll.

I dropped the letter to the table, ears flattening involuntarily against the back of my head. "Todd wants me to visit him in prison. He says he has a surprise,"