The Innocence Mission
Lips parted, sliding down ... and stopping. Nose flaring. A few seconds. And sliding back up, glinting wet (and warmly). Slipping off (and away). A swallow. And a panting, worried, "Field?"
The mouse blinked.
Adelaide swallowed again. Moving up to a sit (on her knees) in the wild grass. The wild green-yellow grass of this un-drenched prairie. "Field ... "
"Yeah?" His voice was weak.
"You just ... " She trailed. "You're not really reacting," she said. "Does it ... " She collected herself. "It doesn't feel good?"
"I am ... reacting, and ... "
"You're not." She let out a breath. Swallowed again. Throat a bit dry. The late-afternoon sun bathing her bare, pink shoulders. And her back. Matting her fur with sweat.
"I'm sorry." His words were ghost-like. And his eyes watered. He closed them.
"Hey," she whispered. "Hey ... open your eyes."
He didn't.
"Look at me," she pleaded.
His eyes ... opened.
"You've nothing to feel sorry for." She leaned over him. On all fours.
"But I'm ... "
" ... okay. You're okay," she insisted.
"I'm ... "
A sigh.
" ... sorry. I'm sorry."
"Field!" She went back to her knees, rubbing her own forehead.
The mouse quivered at the loudness of her voice.
"Field," she whispered. Closing her eyes. Great. Now, SHE was feeling sorry. The bat sagged. She felt so tired, and his pain ... was hers. No one could understand that. No one could know ... how tethered they were.
The mouse swallowed. His nose sniffed. He was on his back. Bare, like her. And the wild grasses ... two feet high. And the sky a lovely blue color. Oh, blue.
Adelaide leaned forward. Putting her paws on his chest. His chest ... that was lighter than the rest of him. The color of his fur. His chest that was slender.
"You've lost a few pounds ... "
He nodded.
"I ... there's a party in the mess hall tonight," she said, thumb moving back and forth over one of his mousey nipples. She closed her eyes for a moment. Opened them. "I want you to eat some cake and some ... food, and ... "
"I'm not hungry."
"You're having some cake. Some ice cream. Some ... whatever they're having."
Field was quiet.
"Alright?" she said softly.
Whiskers twitched ...
"You sound like it's a form of ... " She immediately stopped, swallowing. Pain on her muzzle. "I mean ... " She stopped again. She'd been about to say, 'you sound like it's a form of torture ... to eat cake and ice cream' ... torture ...
Field gave a weak smile. "It's okay ... "
"I'm sorry. That was ... I'm sorry." She scolded herself. How could she be that ... careless ... with her words ...
"Now, you're acting like me," he whispered (of her apologies).
A small smile. "Yeah ... well, I've said it before, haven't I? You're contagious." Pause. "In a good way."
The mouse breathed. The grass blades bobbed in the breeze. "I'll go to the party," he whispered.
She squeezed his paw. "It'll be good for you. Everyone wants to see you, and ... they've all been worried." A breath. "Anyway, we've reason to celebrate. You're ... gonna get better," she said gently, "and we have a new home."
A little nod.
Adelaide breathed slowly. She spread her wings ... stretching them. Her full arm/wingspan.
After a moment, the mouse reached a paw at her fur ... tugged (so weakly). Whispering, "Keep ... keep doing it ... "
"Doing what?" A bit of a teasing smile. Her pink eyes watching his whiskers. His erratic twitches.
"What you were doing ... " He flushed.
"We're gonna have to start our walk back to the ship ... in a while," she reminded.
Luminous was three miles away. Chester having landed her in an endless (seemingly) grassy plain. Adelaide had guided Field this far away ... to where there were little, sloping hills, and ... where the grass was tall. Where they could lay down in the greenery, beneath the blue ... and not be seen.
"Well ... "
"But not yet," she said. "We've got ... time," she promised. She stretched once more, and then moved her paws back to him. Where they ran up and down his chest and belly. She gave him a smile. Please, smile back ... please ...
The mouse's smile was tired. Timid. A bit broken. But it was a genuine smile. Oh, it was a smile ... it was progress.
The bat's own smile grew. "Oh, darling ... " She rubbed his soft, furry belly. Fingers trailing through his fur. And paws moving (and stopping on) his hips. "Just try and ... feel? Okay?" The mouse, during the past few days, had been largely numb. With blank expressions. Neutral voice. A defense mechanism, or ... all the innocence had been drained from him. Seemingly. But, no ... no, he still had it. The innocence. It had just been chased into the recesses of his mind. Where it shivered. Afraid. Like the rest of him. But mice were resilient ... he would ... he would. He would heal.
And she wasn't going tor est until then. It was her mission. To restore his innocence. His gentle brightness. The glow in his shy eyes. The giggles ...
He needed her.
She needed ...
... him. She was eying him. Her eyes sparkling softly. Silently. Hopefully. As he leaned back down. As she fished for his semi-firm mousey-ness ... and slid her muzzle (wet, warm, and wanting) back over it.
Back over him.
Field's eyes lowered to a half-close. He tried not to think. Tried not to think ... of anything. Just this. Just her.
She had spend the past three days ... holding, hugging him. Caressing. Then had moved to oral things ... first time, he had flinched at the lap of her tongue. He turned away, starting to cry ... apologizing ...
She'd probed his mind ... trying to calm him.
And they'd tried again.
And, now, in the present, in the grassy plains, huffing from the heat ... now, she wished she could bite him. Through biting him, she could best heal him.
But the mouse was so hesitant ... for, though she could best heal with through that intimacy. With that pleasure ...
... it was also through that joining that ... she would be hit with the images in his head. The memories.
As soon as her fangs would puncture him, they would merge. Physical sensation. Emotional feelings. Memories. The moment she bit him, she would ... have those memories in her head. See, through his eyes, with his ears ... what had happened. Would ...
... not allow it. Field would not allow it. So afraid was he ... of being a burden. Of burdening her.
So, she didn't push it. Knowing ... he needed some time. Knowing he would come around. He would. She knew him.
And, in her suckling ... pulled off. Huffed. "No bites today?" she whispered. " She was hoping he would ... change his mind. Would be ready.
A weak shake of his head. "I'm ... I don't have the energy." He let out a weak breath. "I ... wanna do things. I ... I'm not ready," he whispered, "for that. I want to. I just ... "
"It's alright." She caressed his chest. "I don't mean to pressure you. I just ... want you to feel better."
A quiet nod ...
And she returned to her task (thought it was too much fun ... to be called a task). She worked on the walls he'd frantically built. Worked on ... trying to melt the pain he now carried. Tried to melt it with pleasure. She worked on melting that pain ...
... as she worked on him.
Bob, bob ... pause. Suck ...
Field caught his breath. He arched his belly upward, off the grass ... before lowering.
Oh, that's it ... a definite reaction. He was feeling it. Was letting himself feel it.
And Adelaide would've given a delighted giggle (had her muzzle not been full). Her tongue, built for catching insects ... so versatile. Slithering around the flesh of him. Muzzle enclosing ...
The mouse's tail writhed in the grass ... worm-like. Snake-like. Rope-like. Such imagery was his tail!
Her wet, loosened lips ... luscious ... sliding down. Where she stopped. Nostrils flaring. And ears pinned down on her head. Swept back. Angular. And she gave a suck-suck ... suck ...
Again, the mouse arched.
And she slid back ... huffing. Gripping his stiff, pink penis ... " ... oh ... " A long, wet lick ... of the head. The slit.
"Uh ... " Paws reaching ... " ... uh ... "
A sweaty, huffing grin ... and she slid her lips over the head. Just the head. Swerving her tongue on the pre-oozed flesh.
"Oh ... " He squirmed. Writhed. Sweating, too. "Mm ... mmm ..."
She pulled off (again). "S-sensitive?"
A gulp. A nod.
A giggle ... and she kneaded his furry sac. Rolling the orbs around. "I don't ... mess with these," she said, rolling a ball between her fingers, "enough." She took a deep breath and stopped. "Mm ... " She groped his thighs, sliding her paws beneath him. To his rump-cheeks. "You've the cutest rump ... " Grope ...
The mouse flushed, hot beneath his cheeks. Ears searing with blood.
She leaned aside, rolling onto her back ...
He hesitated ... huffing ...
"Feel ... Field. Just ... let yourself feel. Passion. Love. This," she whispered. "Lose yourself," she whispered, "in my wings. I love you ... I can't stand to see you in pain. Please ... just ... lay here with me."
"Just lay?"
A quiet nod. "Just lay with me. Nuzzle," she whispered, "with me. And relax. You'll get better."
"But we ... have to start walking back to the ship. The party ... "
"Mouses aren't party-furs, are they?" A nudge.
"No ... "
"Do they eat cake and ice cream?" she asked. Smiling.
A sigh. A nod. A smile. "I'll eat cake and ice cream," he promised.
"Good." A giggle. "We'll leave in a bit ... but not yet. Just ... we're in nature. We're in the fields. We ... need this," she whispered.
She was right. They did need it.
"You'll be alright. We," she emphasized, "will be alright."
And he nodded. Lying with her in the grass. Putting his nose on her neck. He would get better. Now, more than ever ... he believed it.
"I used to do this ... " One foot-paw in front of the other. Step, step ... step. Brown fur glinting (a bit). Body slender. "Used to," he whispered delicately, "all ... " He bent his knees, crouching down. Taking a huge breath. Exhale. Inhale ... closing his eyes. " ... the time!" he huffed. And he sprung up. And backwards, paws pressing off the tree limb (upon which he stood). Using the force to spring his furry body into the air. Bushy, luxurious tail tucked against his back. Doing one full back-flip in the air before ... foot-paws landing flat on the limb. He teetered a bit, putting his arms out (wingspan-like) ... balancing. And knees crouched. And he giggled and stood up straight. And let out a breath. Smiling. "Yeah ... yeah," he breathed. "I mean, I can do it better. Just ... rusty. I just ... what?" A blink.
"I am ... impressed," Assumpta said. She'd known her mate was agile. He was a squirrel. All squirrels were rather nimble. Not powerful. Not strong, maybe, like she was ... like a feline was. Not full of raw, refined power, but ... they were nimble. They were delicate.
A smile. "Yeah?"
A nod.
"Mm ... well ... " Azure took another breath. And slid to a sit on the tree limb. It was a foot wide. It was thick. A natural balance beam. "I was trained in arboreal acrobatics. Gymnastics, if you will."
"You never told me ... "
"Well, it never came up," he whispered. Eyes meeting hers. His deep blue eyes ... meeting her paler blues. Her icy blues. And the squirrel smiled. Whiskers twitching. "I was quite good. I won a few contests. Most squirrels toy around with ... acrobatic things. When they're younger. As we age, we ... venture out of the forest, and into the wider world, and ... the galaxy. And we sort of lose our roots." A pause. Inhaling. "It's almost unreal ... to be here. You know? Sitting in a tree. Forgot what a tree looked like ... "
They were at the edge of a small, clustered woods ... a few miles from where Field and Adelaide were.
"I have not spent much time in ... forests."
"No?"
"There are no trees in the tundra. In my element, there ... is nothing but ... mountains. Ice. Rock. Water."
"Like how it was on the snow rabbit world? Or like where ... that gateway was?"
"Yes."
"You miss it?"
"Yes."
"Mm ... " The squirrel's angular ears swivelled. Cocked. At the bird-sounds, and ... at the sound of her voice. His mate's voice.
Her voice ... as she said, "We have been in space for far too long. I thought we would always remain," she admitted, "in space. I did not have hope ... for finding a home. In fact, I believe I was scared ... "
"Of what?" Azure whispered, eyes open. Eying her white and grey-striped fur.
"Of settling."
"Well, I don't know why ... "
"Our differences, in space, can be reconciled. Our differences on a planet such as this ... in nature, in our natural states," she said. "Harder to mask."
"You're saying we're too different? Since when did ... "
"No ... no," she whispered.
"Well, I don't ... "
"I am scared," she admitted. A very difficult thing for her to do. She paused, looking to the ground. To the soft soil of the forest floor. Decomposed leaves. Grasses. She let out a breath. And whispered, looking back up, "I am of the ice. You were born in a tree. Correct?"
"Squirrels give birth," he said, nodding, "in trees. Like, we ... our cities are in the trees. In tall, huge ... trees. All across forest canopies."
"I am just saying that, in space, on Luminous ... it doesn't matter. On Luminous, we share a neutral environment. That of the ship. On this planet ... our environment is no longer neutral. I ... I fear," she said, "that ... I will not fit in." A breath. "Being that we will undoubtedly stay in near the forests and plains ... where the squirrels and mice and such are ... most comfortable."
"I don't ... I don't understand ... Assumpta ... "
"I do not wish to be awkward. I don't wish you," she said, "to think of me as ... "
" ... awkward?" A gentle smile. "When have I done that? Ever? Why would I start?"
She gave no response.
"You think our love will crack ... because we're no longer furs in motion? You think that, as furs at rest, we'll ... make problems for ourselves?"
"I do not know. I am just ... it has been a long while," she whispered, "since I have ... been stationary. I was exiled from the North. Before I joined the fleet. And then exiled from Home-World ... along with the rest of you. I have been a nomad for so long. A solitary predator."
"You're not alone."
"I know," she whispered.
Azure softly slid out of the tree. And padded the few steps up to her, and ... threw his arms around her in the warmest, widest embrace. Leaning his head against her breasts ... shorter than her. Head coming up to her chin. And he closed his eyes. "Living a quiet life ... on an unexplored planet. It'll be an adventure," he assured. "We'll have this adventure ... together."
"That is ... sweet," she said. "But look at our past adventures? Human threats, furs from the future, snow rabbits, foxes, wasps ... who is to say what is lurking on this world? Who is to say that ... I won't revert to predatory ways?"
"Is that what you're most afraid of?" he guessed. "Not settling down. Not ... living in a natural environment outside your element. Your afraid you'll become too much a predator? And that I'll grow scared of you. That you'll hurt me?"
"I am capable," she whispered, "of things ... that you do not know. That I have not said. I would kill," she told him, "to protect you."
The squirrel was quiet for a moment. "I ... don't know how to respond to that. I'm ... humbled. I ... but, gataki, you don't need to worry about that. I know you. I mean, I'm not inside your head, but I ... know why I love you. I know why ... we're together. We've made it this far. Through so much. I'm not going to let anything cause us to crumble. Not now," he told her. "Not ever."
"Nor will I," she confessed.
"So, what's the problem?" he asked, smiling up at her.
"I do not know ... what the problem is. Perhaps that is what unnerves me. I do not know what the next struggle will be. Or where it will come from. I am constantly trying to figure out ... who ... and what," she said, "I am. I think I am finding myself ... in you. I feel most comfortable," she confessed, "with you."
"Said the predator to the prey," Azure whispered, smiling. "I'm so glad ... to have you. I love you ... I don't care how different we are. We share a singular love, right? And ... no predator/prey romance has lasted this long ... that I know of. The ones that have ... have been purely physical."
"I must confess, when I first met you ... it was a physical reaction." A pause. Her eyes meeting his. Seeming almost ... timid? "But it has become much more than that. It is much more," she said into his ear, "than that."
The squirrel hugged tighter. Much more.
It was later in the day. Evening.
And the party in the mess hall ... had begun.
It wasn't a crazy, festive party ... more a casual, happy thing. Furs wandering out and in. Light, instrumental music in the background. Food on tables. Conversation. Outside the windows, no stars. But fields ... endless fields, and endless prairies. And a setting sky. The color of emerald and pink and lavender. So many colors running together. Melting, blurring, falling ... blues, darker blues ... staining the overall whole. As night crept ever closer.
"Good landing, by the way," Juneau told her mate. Giggling. Sipping some punch from a glass. "Mm ... knocked me off my feet. Luckily, I wasn't near the second-level railing, else I would've ... fallen over."
Chester flushed. Whiskers twitching.
"Just teasing," she whispered.
"Oh ... "
"You did fine. Considering the ship's never been landed before, I'd say ... you did a pretty good job." She eyed the vista outside the window. However ... she was an engineer. The ship ... she loved this ship. She didn't know what to do ... if they sat here for ... however long. Weeks. Months. Years?
Dotna, within view, noticed Juneau's wistful gaze. Said, "I don't think Wren's going to abandon ship."
"Mm?" Juneau looked to the chipmunk. "Oh, I know. I just ... the warp core's powered down. I miss the hum. It's ... there's no hum," she said. "You know?" Her ears swivelled. "I got more attached to this ship that I thought I would ... more attached to being in space."
"Well, I ... for one," Chester said, piping in, "am glad to be on solid land. Mm ... "
"Oh, I'm glad, too," Juneau insisted. Looking around. "Seriously. I'm glad. I just ... what are we gonna do? I mean, what's the plan? It's the uncertainty that's getting to me ... are we going to ... keep Luminous parked here. Have her partially occupied at all times, and ... build our own settlements, our own little town ... on the banks of the nearest creek?"
"We need a home," Dotna said. "We don't have one. We need one ... so, we stay here for a while. We MAKE ... a home. Make this," she said, "our home. And when we've sufficiently done that ... I don't know. I can't see this crew splitting up and going separate ways. Either we all stay ... and all settle here. Or we all get back to our stations and warp away ... into the unknown. And I'm telling you," she whispered, "that I can't take any more of the unknown."
"But this planet," Juneau insisted, "is an unknown. Isn't it?"
"But it's not in a vacuum. This unknown ... isn't so suffocating."
"Mm ... "
Pyro, just now sidling into the conversation, said, "Well, I'm ... for one, I'm glad. I mean, I could use some rest. Some stability. Some nature, you know? I think we all could."
"What is a wolf's nature, by the way?" Juneau asked. Wondering.
"Anything. We're very adaptable."
"Very enigmatic, too," the squirrel added.
"I think he can be solved," Dotna teased. "I'm working on him."
Pyro chuckled, red eyes glowing. "Working on me? Playing ... is more like. Playing with me."
Dotna grinned, giving no verbal response to that.
On the other side of the mess hall, Ketchy was alone, waiting for Denali to get here ... the otter was in sickbay. Field and Adelaide had recently gotten back. Had walked back to the ship. And Field was getting his daily check-up. Being given his daily shots. To help his physical wounds heal ...
"Ketchy ... "
She looked up. Saw Rella. Saw Wren.
"Oh ... hey ... " She nodded. "Mm ... this is a nice gathering. Heh ... " She looked around. "Everyone's so happy. I mean, I haven't seen such lightness on this ship in ... well, in a long time."
"Yeah ... well, we're gonna take some time and figure out," said Wren, "what to do next. I think we may settle here. I mean, why not? And the ship ... Luminous ... we can keep her here. Keep her parked. Use her daily. Just ... even live on her. We can live on the ship, and ... venture out and about the planet every day. I mean ... it's a lot to map out."
"Yeah," Ketchy whispered. A lot to map out.
"But, um ... since we're gonna be settling, and ... since your birthday's next week. It's next week, right?"
She smiled. "Yeah. I'll be 22."
Wren nodded. Paused.
Rella nudged him in the side.
"Um, but ... we got you a present."
"A present?" Ketchy perked. "What do you mean?"
"Well, Rella and I ... we've talked. I mean, we've talked a lot, and we just ... we're not the kind of furs to start a family, you know? I mean, we don't want children. But everyone knows," the Captain whispered, "how much you do. This isn't a gift from just us. It's ... from the whole crew, really, but ... since Rella and I don't want children, we ... I mean ... " He produced a small stasis vial. Which glowed. Which was cool to the touch. With a white, milky liquid ... in stasis. He reached out ... " ... take it ... "
"W-what ... "
Wren placed it in her paw. "I'll be your donor."
Ketchy stared at the vial. Blinked. Swallowed. "This ... this is ... "
" ... seed." Wren smiled shyly. "You need a rodent's ... seed. And, as I said, Rella and I have talked a lot, and ... "
" ... even if we decide to have children someday," Rella said. "Even if we change our minds, and ... have a child. Or ... you know, even if it takes us by surprise," she said. "We still want you to have this." Rella smiled.
"But it's ... yours," she said, handing it back to Wren.
Wren pushed it back to her. Gently. "I'm giving it to you. It'll be your child. Not mine. Not Rella's. Yours. Yours and Denali's. But I don't plan on using it to make a baby ... and since you and your mate can't reproduce," he said again, trailing. "We all want you to be happy. We know how much it means to you, and ... just ... take it," Wren whispered. "Please. It's a gift."
Ketchy clutched at the vial. Tears silently streaming down her cheeks. She opened her muzzle, and no words came out ... and she swallowed. Sniffled. Tried to compose herself. And, when finally doing so, she nodded. Whispered, "Thank you ... " And she threw her arms around Wren. And then ... did the same to Rella. "Both of you ... "
More furs filtered in ...
... including Denali. Including Field and Adelaide. Baby Akira in the bat's arms.
Denali going to Ketchy, and Ketchy ... bubbling, eyes watered ... telling the otter of the news.
While Field filtered over to the refreshments table. Eying the cake and ice cream.
"Good stuff," Pyro assured, having walked up to the mouse. To his side.
"I promised Adelaide I would eat it."
"Heh ... best eat it, then. Or she'll have to feed it to you. Then again ... DON'T eat it." A chuckle. "More fun if she ... "
"If I what?" Adelaide asked, grinning a toothy grin. Shifting Akira in her grip.
Pyro chuckled. "You're stealthy. You know that?"
"I'm a bat. I'm a creature of the night."
"I could make a yiffy joke about that, too, but ... I'll leave it to the imagination," said the wolf, pouring himself a cup of punch. Looking to Field. Saying, seriously, "Glad you're okay ... and you stay okay. Okay?"
"Okay."
A chuckle. "Too many okay's," Pyro noted. "But that's okay with me." And he moved off. Back to Dotna. Back to mingling. Enjoying his new family of furs, and ... the companionship. The warmth. He had found a home.
They all had ... home was this ship. And whether it was parked here, or ... whether it was moving through space ...
... home was where the heart was. Cheesy, but true.
"Gonna have your cake?" Adelaide asked.
Field nodded. "Vanilla."
A smile. "Ice cream?"
"Vanilla," he repeated.
"You need chocolate."
A giggle-squeak. "Don't think I can handle that yet ... it'll have me bouncing off the walls."
"I'll just have to find a way to pin you down."
A gurgle from the baby ...
"Mm ... no, no. Definitely no chocolate for you," Adelaide assured. "Anyway, you can't eat solid food yet ... no ... "
Field leaned forward ... and nuzzled his nose to his daughter's forehead.
And Adelaide smiled. For all of Field's fears that he would make a horrible parent ... she knew otherwise.
And the mouse turned and ... nuzzled her, too. Nuzzled Adelaide. And kissed her (on the lips) in front of the whole room of furs.
When the kiss was broken, Adelaide, through half-lidded eyes, whispered, "Your ears didn't even flush."
"No?"
"No ... " A smile. "I'll have to do something about that." And she leaned forward and returned the kiss. Longer, wetter ... this time, the mouse's ears DID blush. A rosy-pink. And Adelaide pulled back. "There we go," she whispered.
Field giggle-squeaked, feeling good. Feeling light. A lot of furs coming up to him and asking him how he was doing ... squeezing his paw ... or batting at his tail. All of them so kind ... the mouse was touched. Eyed watered.
"Cake, darling. Ice cream," Adelaide whispered to him. "No need to cry ... "
A shy smile. No ... no need ...
And the party went on ... well past sunset. 'Til the first star of night shone outside the window. 'Til all the cake and ice cream was gone. 'Til all the words had been said. 'Til all the furs filtered away ... crawling, together, into their beds.
Dreaming of this new home. What it was. What it could be.
Dreaming of hope, and dreaming of love.
Of what wonders ... life was made of.