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Mill-worker Harlan Crow feels like nobody takes him seriously, and he doesn't like being told what not to do. Or who not to do. Better go ahead and fix that...

Welcome back to scenic Cannon Shoals, where not-very-good people make even worse decisions! Read the tags: probably not a story for everybody. This is a follow-up to "One More for the Road," but with mostly new characters. Thanks to Spudz for editing help, and WSAD for reminding me to be more depraved.

Released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Share, modify, and redistribute -- as long as it's attributed and noncommercial, anything goes.

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"Stickin' with the Union" cycle:

1. One More for the Road
2. Small-Town Lies
3. Friend of the Devil
4. Consequences
5. Favors

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"Small-Town Lies," by Rob Baird

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Guys like me, fuck, ain't like we ever catch a break. Harlan Crow said it to Kevin Mikkelson, a bear who worked with him on the machinery at the Martin-Barlow Western mill, and Kev grunted his agreement.

"Still gotta do it, though."

They were getting the mill reopened, almost two years after Martin-Barlow first moved to shut it down.That part was good news, but the months of idleness took a toll on the electrical systems. It seemed like every time Harlan and Kev tried to start something, part of it decided to blow up.

Now everything had come to a standstill, waiting for replacement capacitors that were_supposed_ to have been stored on-site, according to the inventory, but had either been misfiled or they'd gone missing. That happened, sometimes; it was more common with copper or anything that could be sold for scrap.

Kev didn't want to go into town, and Kev had seniority. That left Harlan grumbling to himself, driving from Oak Valley to Cannon Shoals and the co-op parts store that was starting to reopen along with the mill.Like I'm some fuckin' errand-boy.

Nobody took the fox seriously, even though he was one of relatively few at Martin-Barlow with a college degree -- an electrical engineer, not some forklift driver or a lumberjack. Or a fisherman, like so many washouts in the little town.

What had it gotten him? A full goddamned year of odd jobs after the mill closed, installing appliances and shit work that folks gave him like it was charity. A house that wasn't worth wanting to afford. A tedious wife who spent her days as a lesson in making safe choices.

He could've done worse than Kayla, and Kayla could've done worse than him -- her brother Steffan had tried to make it as a_musician_, for Chrissakes -- but none of it was particularly inspiring. Harlan was fairly sure he deserved better. But he couldn't leave for greener pastures, because even if the mortgage wasn't a chain wrapped around his neck his wife would never consent to abandoning her fucking 'roots,' whatever those really were.

In the end, though, the parts store made for a nice diversion. He knew the girl behind the counter, if only because she was the kid sister of Lisa Rourke. Lisa was a stuck-up bitch who kept giving him the cold shoulder, like working at the goddamn IGA was good enough to put on airs. At least Jenna was friendly.

And she'd grown up nice -- filled in. Couldn't have been older than 20 and looked it, with nice smooth fur and perky black ears. Took more work than you'd think, really -- vixens got all ratty and ragged if they didn't bother to keep up appearances. Kayla'd stopped caring.

Back home, he'd have to cope with that. For now, he took Jenna in with an appreciative grin and decided he didn't mind Kevin pulling seniority after all. "Hey, babe."

"Hi, Mr. Crow."

"Hey, c'mon. It's Harlan."

"Harlan," she agreed. "What can I do for you?"

There wasn't anyone else in the store. He got comfortable leaning on the counter before handing over the piece of paper. "Need some new caps. Figured you'd have 'em in stock."

A flick of her ear let a thin gold ring catch the light, and he grinned to himself. Jenna had a few earrings -- it gave her a punkish air, toeing the line of social acceptability. Lisa Rourke thought she was one of those high-class foxes, like the Galvans who ran the bank.Naw. Common trash. At least her sister admits it.

"What's the word, babe?"

Jenna tapped a few numbers into the ancient keyboard. "Yeah... yeah. We have them. This is_all_ we have, so I'll need to order more. If I can figure out how..."

"Betcha can. You gotta know computers, right, kid like you?"

"This one's old," she said. "Mr. Pierce doesn't think I'm smart enough, but I swear -- it's just 'cause it's old. Well, I can do that later. Just the capacitors, Mr. Crow? Harlan?"

"Better," he drawled. "Yeah, just those. And you better learn, darlin'. You'll be doin' more of it soon enough."

She narrowed her eyes at the terminal, bit down on her lip, and stabbed the 'Enter' key decisively. "There! Oh, uh... you think I will? Really? Business has started to pick up. Is it like that at the mill, too?"

Four months in, the Oak Valley mill had come most of the way back from the dead -- like nobody thought it ever would. The drying kiln was the last piece of the puzzle. With the mill's resurrection, Cannon Shoals was waking up. Not like in his dad's day, sure, but a damn sight better than the year before. "Yep. Gettin' steady hours, now. Hell -- feel like a new man."

"That's good." She looked up at the other fox with the kind of nice smile Lisa had never shown him. "I heard Mr. Pierce talking about the railroad tracks, even. I guess Southern Pacific sent a couple people down to take a look at it -- I don't even_remember_ the railroad."

"I do. Gramps worked on it when it was the Netashnee and Siletz. Uncle worked on it when it was Union Umpqua and Western. You're just a kit, babe. What are ya? Sixteen?"

"Hmf! You really think so?"

"Gettin' carded, right? Be like that for a_long_ while, vix." He grinned at her shy, flushed smile to let the girl know it had been the right response. "Good thing you're cute. Southern Pacific closed in '94. We used to see the trains, though -- those big diesels... hell, my uncle let us get in the cab when we wanted."

"Sounds fun. You really think they'll come back?"

Why not? Cannon Shoals had_been something_, once, and there wasn't any damn reason it couldn't be again. If the suits in Salem could be kept quiet, and that useless prick in the White House would finally tell the Canadians to stop dumping lumber? "Sure. Got the mill open, right? Got me comin' down here buyin' you outta those big caps. We even got one of the warehouses leased out to some Jap company or other sayin' they want to invest. Ain't bad, huh?"

Jenna nodded. "It's nice to have some optimism, for once. Last year wasn't great."

"Naw?"

"Well, all those storms were kind of an omen. Had to put off community college, 'cause after dad lost his job at the garage they needed help paying for the house. If Mr. Pierce keeps me on, and if we start doing more business... well! I guess I'm keeping you," the vixen apologized. "I'll get what we have now out of the back, okay?"

He winked. Jenna was a fine sight from the front -- but from_behind_ she was in a league of her own. Right. Like she's gotta go to college with an ass like that? And a nice, flawless tail swaying over those supple curves to keep the eye nice and focused... Kayla hadn't ever looked like that. Fuck, Harlan, you settled...

She came back a few minutes later with a half-filled cardboard box. "Found 'em. You want it on the MB account?"

"Sure," he said. It was a strange feeling, knowing that his employer could be trusted to pay its debts. But if you ignored the mill, the biggest employer in Cannon Shoals was a little Coast Guard station. Nobody liked being beholden to the government, and since the fishing fleet barely paid for itself the town really_owed_ Martin-Barlow a favor or two.

"All settled, then. See you next time?"

"Sure," he repeated. And he flashed a grin. "Maybe when I ain't on the clock."

The rest of the day went quickly, with that exciting if slightly lewd thought in his mind.Oughta see where that one goes. There hadn't been many opportunities before, but now that the mill was back...

Kayla liked the muffins they served at Stach's Grounds, the downtown coffee shop, and it occurred to him that a suitable bribe might be enough to cajole her into putting out. No cute young vixen, of course, but if you closed your eyes one muzzle was as good as any other...

No sooner was he through the door than he forgot all about the idea. Jenna was seated at a table along with her older sister. Smiling at his sudden turn of good fortune, he strolled over to chat. "Well, now, hey. What do we have here?"

The Rourke clan had gotten lucky, and so had anyone in Cannon Shoals who liked a good show. Thirty four years old, just like Harlan, Lisa Rourke still had the body to make a Playboy centerfold jealous -- the kind of body nobody would blame you for putting your paws all over.

Well, nobody except Lisa. Jenna had waved, but her older sister just rolled her eyes. "You don't have places to be, Harlan?"

"Got off early. Figured I'd stop by for a bite, you know? And hey, wasn't expectin' company."

"Good, 'cause you're not getting it."

Jenna glanced sideways at her sister. "Hey, it's okay. Harlan's just being nice."

"No he's not. I know him. I know his family. Jesus, Harlan, could you at least_pretend_ not to stare?"

If she'd had less worth staring at, he might've listened. As it was, he shrugged. "Makin' conversation. You could, too, sugar. Jenna knows how -- saw her earlier at the shop, right? Wasn't so bad."

Lisa curled her lip. "Did you bring your wife along? Maybe you should do that, next time."

"You got a big muzzle for a part-time stockboy. If you two weren't so damn fine, well, I might have to take that like an insult. But hey, I'm easygoin'."

"Christ almighty, you're a fucking piece of work -- leave us alone. And stay away from my sister."

"Aw." He took a deliberate step closer to their table, and put his paw on Jenna's shoulder. "Why? Why ain't she askin' me? Not like you're her owner. You think she's too cute to talk?"

The older vixen bared her teeth further, like she was a guard dog -- instead of some haughty bitch still wearing her IGA nametag. "I mean it, Harlan Crow. Don't make me --"

"Make you_what_?" he laughed.

"It's okay." Jenna tried to diffuse the situation. "I_can_ handle myself, Lisa."

"Fine. That's it -- we're going. Jenna, go start the car."

"I'm not done with --"

"Start the car."

Harlan lifted his paw from the girl's shoulder, so she could get up. As she slipped past him, he gave her rear a little pat -- less because she needed it, though she did, than to wind her sister up. "See ya 'round, hon," he promised, and grinned at the startled look his paw had gotten from her.

Jenna left in silence, and when she was at the door Lisa stood, too. Her sharp-eyed glare and the teeth below it ruined her appeal a little, he had to admit.Cute how she thinks she's all that, though...

"What?"

"I mean it. Stay away from her. Get Martin-Barlow to send somebody else to fetch their damned parts. If I hear you went down there, I'm calling the mill and filing another complaint. How's Bobby gonna take that?"

Harlan snickered, although the use of Bobby Dean's name should've given him pause. Martin-Barlow trusted him to keep the mill employees in line, which was one of his two official jobs -- the closest thing they had to a senior NCO at the Oak Valley site.

His other job was that he ran the local union, 491, which gave him some additional leverage and made him the one folks went to when they had a problem. This meant that Harlan had had words with Dean before -- mostly bullshit when girls like Lisa took things the wrong way.

Lisa specifically, too, had been the source of at least one one complaint. She'd had to go and open her dumb mouth when he accidentally rear-ended her car.

If anyone asked her, it was because she didn't cotton to his suggestion of an alternative method of settling the bill, and she didn't like the way he used the union for cover when she tried to go to the police -- that had been four years back, when the mill was the biggest employer and Chief Pacheco tried to play peacemaker when he could.

If they asked Harlan, it was because she didn't know when to stop being such a goddamned bitch. "Nothin' personal. Just 'cause you ain't as hot as your sister don't mean I can't appreciate a good piece of tail. Hell, I'd show the both of you a good time, no question."

Her muzzle flashed in a snarl, and she slapped him.

Before he even felt the sting on his snout he had her by the wrist -- hard, squeezing down until the curl of her lip started to falter. "Yeah? You were sayin'?"

She didn't bother trying to free herself. "I was saying," she managed, and though she almost hid her wince it did make her start over. "I was saying to keep your paws to yourself. Maybe you ought to listen more -- more_carefully_."

"Maybe you oughta stop thinking you get to give orders. And maybe..." He relaxed his hold, because it didn't matter; she knew he could best her in any case. "You should learn to take a compliment."

A few of the other patrons had looked over, catching the ruckus. Lisa twisted her arm free, shot him one final glare, and stalked for the door of the café. It was worthy of a derisive snort, nothing more --shit, ain't even the worst we've got into it. He laughed again, though his nose began to smart.

One of these days he'd show her. Somehow.

Two days later, the next opportunity presented itself when one of the testing rigs they used for the drying kiln abruptly failed. Three hours of diagnostics later, he was ready to go for lunch. "Yo. Jonny. Figured it out."

The German shepherd ambled over. "Yeah? Got the tests done?"

"Pretty much. Blew another fuse, for starters -- that old Tektronix piece of shit we got is twenty years past its use-by date, but I can tell that much at least. Once we get that fixed, I can keep going. See if there's a short or something. Unfortunately the parts are missing..."

"Need more fuses?"

"Yeah. And some wire and shit. Easy stuff."

Jonny nodded. "Sweet. Tell me what you need and I'll have Kev pick it up. He's going into town anyway."

"Hell, no need; I can do it."

"Yeah. About that." The shepherd clicked his tongue, hesitating. "Uh, boss told me to have Kev get our parts for now."

"Why?"

Jonny shrugged -- his expression had one of those_fuckin' managers, you know how they are_ looks, so he obviously didn't know any specifics. "I dunno. Guess white-muzzle told him he wants ya 'round here. Probably in case the kiln stays down and he needs somebody to chew out."

'White-muzzle' meant Bob Dean. "Goddamn it. Fine, yeah. Kev can handle it."

But he went to find Dean anyway. The old dingo was in his office, like he was most days -- from before sunrise to well after the day shift had gone home. His dry expression told Harlan that Bobby had been expecting the meeting. "Hey, Crow."

"Bobby. What the fuck?"

"Look..."

"Naw, c'mon. What the_fuck_, Bobby? What'd the bitch say?"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

Harlan raised his lip slightly, and leaned closer to the dingo so they could talk, canine-on-canine. "Yes you do. What'd she say?"

He didn't flinch. "I don't need problems with our suppliers right now, Harlan. Martin-Barlow expects us at capacity, no fucking bullshit and no fucking_formal complaints_. Gary Pierce asked politely that we change things up."

"Pierce? He doesn't care. You_know_ it was --"

"I don't know anything," Bobby snapped. "I know that this is not a good time for trouble. Harlan, do you know how much work this took? They got crews working Chinnakault for the first time since '09, they got Southern Pacific running a car to check track wear in case they might want to use it, they sent a guy from head office here to talk to me about renegotiating our contract -- I got Gary fucking Pierce telling me your dumb ass is actin' up. I don't. Need. This. It's bigger than you, Harlan."

"So you're just gonna fuck me?"

"Get over yourself," the dingo spat. "You have a job. You got hours. I burnt the damn complaint."

That made up for just about jack shit, though. When Harlan clocked out, he drove to the co-op out of spite. Jenna was locking up, and when she saw the fox leaning on the fender of his beat-up Chevy S-10 she startled at first. "Uh -- oh, hey, Harlan. We're closed."

"Yeah, I know. You know what's up with Gary?"

"Mr. Pierce? Uh... no, why?"

"You saw Kevin today, though, right? Shit, your boss told my boss to send somebody else. You got somethin' against foxes?" he teased.

Jenna, who looked surprised, shook her head. "No? Maybe... maybe Lisa said something? She was pretty pissed."

"I know. She did hit me."

The vixen squeezed her eyes shut. "I heard that. I didn't ask. She, uh -- she can be overprotective. Means well, but... I guess she doesn't like you, and... well, she knows Mr. Pierce pretty well. She got me this job."

"Like you owe her, you mean?"

"Well. No. But just, like..."

"Then fuck her.You got a problem with me?"

She shook her head. "No, no. Just don't want you getting into any trouble."

It wasn't like he_wanted_ trouble; it just seemed to find him. But he was satisfied with her explanation, and even more satisfied by the playful wave she gave him when he backed his truck out of the lot.

If her sister starts mindin' her own business... Well, in that case, he'd just have to see, wouldn't he? He definitely wouldn't mind breaking Jenna in a bit. If she was up for it -- and he knew she'd be up for it. Even if it took some convincing... Harlan went to sleep that night with a scheming grin and a hard-on.

He woke up to the sound of Kayla watching one of her fucking travel documentaries -- they paid for extended cable, and all she ever cared about was dull bullshit about Jordan or Japan or whatever. Not like she'd ever been further away than Reno, on their honeymoon.

"Morning," she called to him, when he ambled into the living room. The documentary narrator was droning on about delivery men in India, and her ear had twisted to catch it; the television was background noise when she was doing chores. Laundry, in this case.

"Hey," he said. "Sleep okay?"

"Sure, hon." Kayla set a shirt down, and crossed over to give him a perfunctory hug. "Mill called. They said they don't need you in today."

"Yeah?"

"Stuff is on hold while they bring in another inspector this morning... I guess? I didn't ask that many questions."

Right. Like you'd understand, anyway.

The documentary kept going. A voiceover praised the accuracy of the delivery services -- how they never made a mistake, even though it was all done by hand. How they were fast and reliable -- buncha poor illiterates carrying around pots of rice, and every bit as dependable as the Post Office.

Ugh. That was what they'd come down to, was it? Looking to the third fuckin' world for advice? Greatest country on earth -- Harlan with a degree in electrical engineering and everything -- and he was watching his wife fold her K-Mart capris while some British prick went on about the wonderful trains of Mumbai.

"The hell is this bullshit, anyway?"

Kayla looked up. "Travel show, dear."

"America ain't good enough for you?"

The vixen smiled the sort of patient smile that really needed to be slapped out of whoever made it. "It's not that. I just like learning about new places. Remember you used to talk about going to Banff? Like that."

Sure, five years and five dress sizes ago. "India, though."

"They're just different, that's all. Were you going to go to the store? We're almost out of yeast." She changed the subject because she didn't want to fight.

Well, whatever. He shuffled over to the kitchen to check whatever else they might've been missing; as he put his paw on the door the buzz of his cell on the countertop caught his attention.

Text message from Kevin:yo the thermocouple is still new right?

At first he didn't bother answering. Wasn't like he was gonna get paid for working on a day off. Kev wasn't so bad, though; he rolled his eyes and picked up the phone.yeah

Then the fox thought of something else:

thought the mill was closed for inspection?

Yes. MB checking. Still need to have it ruining. A moment later: Tuning. And: RUNNING. autocorrect lol what the duck.

Harlan narrowed his eyes and failed to appreciate the humor. If Martin-Barlow was coming to inspect the setup, there was no reason for Kevin to be the one handling it from the mill's side of things. That was Harlan's job. He should've been there.

And if they were telling him not to come in, it was Bobby Dean trying to make a point. "Fuckin' piece of Australian shit," he growled, mostly to himself. "Like I can't figure that out?"

He reached in for a beer and cracked the can open, still grumbling. A minute later Kayla's head appeared around the corner. "Already, huh? Was that your phone I heard?"

"Didn't ask you."

"Work?"

Harlan felt his paw tightening on the cold metal of the can, crumpling it inward. "Who the fuck do they think they are? I mean,really? Like I'm some goddamn joke?"

"You're not a joke, dear. What happened?"

"You know it's been ten fucking_years_ and Lisa Rourke still has it out for me? Bitchin' to Bob Dean." He felt his tail jerk, and settled the irritation with a good long pull on the can. "Fuckin' cunt."

Kayla flattened her ears. "You don't need to talk like that. I'm sure you and Bobby can handle this."

"Yeah, if he didn't have some soft spot for her.Christ. I'll talk how I want, Kayla. If it looks like a cunt and talks like a cunt, I'm gonna fuckin' call it like I see it."

"Harlan..."

There was no way to reason with Kayla when she got in one of her moods, so he ignored her and went for the front door instead. She'd get over herself eventually.

And as for him...

He finished the rest of the beer while still standing on the porch, fuming, and tossed it neatly into the garbage can. That left him thirsty -- he could've gone back inside, except Kayla probably still felt up to lecturing and grabbing a second beer was_definitely_ going to get her riled.

At 10AM, the Lincoln Street Roadhouse was still closed. The grimy fisherman's dive Annie's might be open, but Harlan had too much self-respect to be caught dead_there_.

Instead he went to the grocery store, half-hoping Lisa would be working so he could give her an earful. No dice. A six-pack of PBR wound up as his companion instead. He had one open, and the key in the Chevy's ignition, when he remembered the yeast.

God damn it. Wouldn't want to forget that. If he couldn't be Bob Dean's errand boy, he might as well be Kayla's. Fuck, maybe I can work my way up; get as good as those Indians.

Thing was, the way Harlan saw it, he deserved better than he'd gotten. He'd gone to school like his mom wanted, learned a trade like his dad wanted, bought a fixer-up house like Kayla wanted -- and what did he have to show for it?

Not as much as any of them. Not as much as Bob Dean, with that preachy bullshit like the mill was some holy temple. And sure, now it was open again -- almost two years later -- and folks were starting to talk in Linc's like Cannon Shoals finally had a future...

And his part of_that_ was twenty hours a week when that prick of a dingo felt like it, and a car with a busted tape deck, and his consolation prize of a wife.

Two of the beers had wound up empty, and part of a third, and he still hadn't gone back for the yeast. It was time to make a decision -- otherwise he was just some useless, aimless drunk, letting the cool wind of a picturesque spring morning whip through the open window of a useless, aimless drunk's truck.

"Fuck the yeast," he grumbled. "Fuck you, too, Bobby." A glance at his phone showed no new messages from anyone.

Whatever. He started the truck, and put it on the road back to his house. That was a left turn onto 101; the signal clacked impatiently while he waited for the northbound traffic to clear out. Tourists, some of 'em. Log trucks, too -- maybe going to the mill, even.Since it's open and all.

He turned right, and swung the Chevy into the parking lot of the parts store. It was a sloppy job, across two spaces, and since there were no other customers he didn't give a fuck.

Jenna was behind the counter, playing with her cell phone; she set it down when he entered and put on a smile. "Hi, Harlan. Back so soon! You need to put in another order?"

"Naw. Day off."

"Oh! Oh, yeah, okay."

"What about you, huh? Seem to be here a lot."

She nodded. "Full time. Normally Mr. Pierce is here in the mornings, but he's over in Corvallis meeting with our suppliers. He trusts me to hold things down himself."

And if she hadn't been so easy on the eyes, he might've felt slighted at the idea that a high school graduate with a nice rack got a steady forty hours and he did not. "Gonna stay here?"

"In the Shoals?"

"Yeah."

"Depends on whether I wind up going to college, you know? Lisa says she wants to move... her boyfriend has a job offer with ODOT and she wants him to take it, but it's out in Hermiston. I keep saying she'll miss the water."

"And the company."

The young vixen snickered. "Boy, you shoulda heard her go off. What's up with that, anyway?"

"Chip on her shoulder. Your folks and mine got some bad blood. Never heard that?" Jenna shrugged, apathetically in the way of old family drama. "Thought she was too good for me."

"Oh?"

"High school prom and shit. And she's one of them fuckin'... 'no means'... whatever, I dunno, right? I ain't put a paw on her, but c'mon -- I'm a guy, you know? Tail like that, I'm_gonna_ look. Shit, that's biology. Not my fault she can't take a compliment."

"Compliment?"

Between three-odd beers and the mill spat, Harlan wasn't in the mood to spare feelings. "Said she oughta bend over more, last time we met in IGA. Didn't like that. Thing is, Jenna? You want to know the truth?"

The vixen looked, if anything, slightly curious rather than offended on her sister's behalf. "Yeah? Tell me the truth."

"She_oughta_. And it's not worth tellin' a bitch she's the best thing since McRibs if what you mean is she'd be a good lay. Some guy wants to get his dick wet, what -- you'd rather he lie to you?"

"That's not_super_ romantic, Harlan," she pointed out. Her quirky, lopsided smile gave every indication that he was merely being humored.

Right. You think I'm some damn joke too, huh? "Well, naw. So? True love ain't why we fuck, babe."

He gathered Jenna didn't find the argument convincing, given the way her smile was quickly turning into an open smirk. Just meant she hadn't figured it out for herself, and if her sister was the kinda girl to whip her boyfriend into moving to goddamn_Hermiston_...

That put the advice on him to give, and it would take a while. Harlan rolled his eyes and went to lock up the Chevy. He brought the rest of the beer in, too; no point in letting it get warm. "Got a fridge?"

Whether she thought he was a joke or not, Jenna didn't mind the implication that her company would be sticking around for a bit. She went off to a side office and came back empty-handed. "So, relationship advice from Harlan Crow..."

"Sure." He took a sip from the half-full can he still had left. "Advice. You look in the mirror lately, babe? Tell you what, if I had to choose between this PBR an' a pawful of those tits, I'd go sober yesterday."

The vixen's ears twitched in different directions, but she had to know what he_meant_ even if the words needed work. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Your boyfriend tell you that?"

"No."

"You think he disagrees?"

The ears twitched again. "Hm."

"Exactly."

"It's not_all_ about sex, though."

No, even Harlan knew that. "Sure. I like going out to a nice dinner as much as anybody. Some girls are fine to hang out with. Some of 'em, you're just gonna put up with it."

He finished the beer and looked around for a trash can until Jenna took it for him. The recycling was behind her, and the way her slender jeans clung to the vixen's butt was a damn fine refresher course in what he was talking about.

"Mind ya, goes both ways. You know Maggie Reyes? You think she likes me for my golf game?"

"Wait -- Maggie? Down at the clinic?"

"Yeah."

Jenna cocked her head. "You're married, though."

"Yeah?"

"Isn't that kind of... like... what does your wife think?"

Harlan snorted. "Maybe she don't approve, I guess? If she didn't bitch at me about Maggie she'd be bitching at me to get the car fixed, so, fuck it. I don't tell her not to buy her damn beads and she doesn't tell me not to get my dick sucked. Maggie's not complaining, either."

"Is that so? She likes it?"

"Of course. That's what your sister doesn't get, yeah? She thinks it has to be like a guy's gotta want her for some high-minded reason. Naw. Sometimes you just need a good fuck. She could damn well use it." And refused to admit it, which was also her problem and not his. "Get me another beer?"

"Sure, sure. Mind if I have one, too?"

"Ain't you working?"

"Yeah, all these customers..." He didn't give her permission, but he also didn't protest when she came back with two cans. Her muzzle wrinkled at the first sip. "This is what you drink?"

But it was the same deal, he pointed out to her -- also, why Annie's served Olympia on tap instead of something more palatable. Why bother pretending you were drinking for any particularly noble reason?

It made enough sense to her that she kept going. They drank in silence for a few minutes. Jenna finally broke it: "Lisa_does_ care about me. She doesn't mean to be stubborn."

"Oh, I bet."

"She went off on my boyfriend, too. Caught us, uh... well." Jenna looked awful cute when she got embarrassed. She hid her nose behind the beer and took another drink before letting the can muffle her voice. "We were making out and stuff, sure. Like you_do_."

"Like you do, yeah. 'Less your sister really is that frigid."

"No. I mean, and we still had our clothes on, even, but_man_. Harlan, I tell you, I thought she was going to kill him."

"Why didn't you tell her to mind her own business?"

"I thought she knew something I didn't."

"Sure. How to be a bitch. Not the good kind, either."

Jenna laughed with the kind of furtive quiet that made him think she expected her sister to be listening in. "I see."

"Hey, I told you how it is. Now you know. She don't got to approve your boyfriends, Jenna. What kinda meddling bullshit is that?"

The vixen turned the question over, stalled with a long swig of beer, and shrugged. "Guess you're right."

"She wouldn't want us to be here, either."

"That's true."

He grinned. "Do I look like I care? Now, what about you?"

"I..."

"Yeah?"

"Um. My... beer. Is empty. I should get back to work."

"Could," he said with a nod. "Or could have another."

"I'm not keeping you?" He grinned again, and she was clever enough to take that as an answer by itself. "Well. There's one left. But... maybe Mr. Pierce has something else. I could check."

"Could do." When she went to look, Harlan turned the key in the front door to lock it, and then let himself behind the counter. Anybody with any important business could wait.

Jenna looked over her shoulder at the sound of his footsteps. "You're not really supposed to be back here."

"Not really supposed to be on the other side of the desk, either," he pointed out. "You probably aren't supposed to be drinking on the job."

"True, but..."

She didn't finish the sentence. By now they were close enough that he could almost feel her body heat. She gave him a curious sideways glance, muzzle still open like she might keep talking. Let's see what she's learned. "But what, babe?"

"I don't know what you have in mind. But. Um."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't you?"

"I... I can_guess_. But in that case..."

Harlan put a paw on the vixen's rear -- hot, soft, and just begging to be groped. He squeezed, and let himself read between the lines when her eyes widened and her ears went back. "In that case, as long as we're breaking the rules already, we might as well break a few more."

"Harlan, if we... if my sister finds out..."

"Your sister's keepin' the both of us from what's ours. Ain't her place."

Jenna swallowed. She started to twist back around, to look at him face-to-face, but a tighter grip of his arm halted that nice and quick. "I'm not yours, Harlan," she said softly.

He pushed his hips against her rump, grinding her against the heavy bulge to let her feel its bulk even through those tight jeans. "Say that again," he growled into the vixen's ear. "Say it and mean it, babe."

Instead, she fell back on something more reliable. "If she finds out..."

"Gonna take more than that to keep me from plowin' you. One more time. Say it." He stroked his other paw down her lean belly to the teasing warmth of her crotch, pulling her back into a few more slow, firm thrusts.

Of course, she couldn't say it. Didn't feel she could or --more likely, he grinned with his muzzle still against her soft black ear -- didn't want to admit the truth. "You're, uh... you're married. And I'm... I'm at work, and I have a boyfriend, so... uh..."

So many weak excuses. Keeping her hips fixed and her thick tail trapped, he accented his low voice with another grind every few words. "Naw, cutie. I'm horny as fuck, is what I am. And you're gonna stop talkin' back and be a good little slut for me."

Each grind saw her stance falter a few notches more. "But... But I'm not."

"Like hell," he told her. He thumbed her jeans open, forced the zipper wide, and pushed his paw down, into her panties, guiding his fingers back and between her thighs until she tensed and sucked in her breath. "Sure, Jenna. Sure you ain't."

"I... Jesus," she gasped, as the older fox dragged his fingers over her pussy lips -- once, and twice, and by the third time even if she wanted to keep denying him his drenched fingers said more than enough. "Harlan, but..."

"Nothin'. 'S fine," he slurred, and worked his paw up to sink his middle finger into those steamy, clinging folds.Fuck if this ain't gonna be good. "You know it. Ain't gonna keep lyin' to me. Gonna behave, aren't ya? I like my sluts obedient..."

She tried to keep some option open by nodding weakly, instead of saying it.Well, don't need to force it just yet. He fondled her breast, squeezing, teasing her hidden nipple with his fingers. And when he felt her trying to bite back a moan, he slipped a second finger into her and pumped them sharply.

There you go, he thought, when she arched and whimpered out for him. Even if Lisa didn't ever find out it was enough for Harlan to know that he'd done it. And in time, probably, she would find out. But for now -- for now he had a nice, squirming vixen to break in.

He worked his fingers quicker, pressing his palm to her wet mound and staying quiet long enough for the slut to hear the telling squish as he stroked her.Christ, she's a tight fit. Harlan, you stud -- took long enough. Jenna's tailtip jerked erratically, and her ears flattened as she started to whine.

The fox nudged one of those ears back up to get his snout beneath it. Her rings glittered, blurry in their proximity.Yeah. Worth it. "There you go, that's more like it," he told her. He kept going, and when her knees started to buckle he held her nice and steady.

Her breathing went uneven and quick; it was the last warning sign he had before she yelped a cute little bark and started shivering, losing her balance and falling into him. His fingers teased her through the gasping, shuddering twinges of release, and he growled hungrily when she finally recovered enough to stand back upright.

"Good?"

"Mmf. But... oof."

"Figured you'd enjoy it. 'I'm not a slut, Harlan,'" he said, mockingly. "Sure."

"I didn't think you'd go... that far..."

"Far? That wasn't far."

"More than I_expected_."

"Like you didn't want it," he drawled.

She bit her lip. Like before, she tried for silence, but he wasn't about to ignore her body language. Her paw felt for her jeans, starting to pull them up.

He reversed that bit of stupidity with a quick, rough downwards shove. "Ain't done with you."

"Harlan..."

"You heard me," he snapped, and when her paw jerked again he cuffed it warningly. "No.No, bitch. Said I ain't done." With a dismissive snort, he pulled his belt open, and then his fly. "See how much you feel like talkin' back with my cock stuffed in that sweet little snatch of yours..."

Jenna shook her head. "Come on... Harlan, this_has_ gone kinda far."

He snorted again, and worked himself free of his boxers. The vixen jolted when his cock pressed into her back, and she tried to twist away -- not enough to keep him from forcing her jeans down until she could no longer reach them. "Gonna go further," he promised.

"Wait..."

"You heard an 'if' there, bitch?"

She twisted again, kicking, working one leg free of her jeans. With the fox's arm locked on her chest, it didn't make any difference. The pitch of her voice lifted. "Harlan.Harlan. I haven't done this before and --"

He stopped, incredulous. "Shit, what?"

"I -- I told you, my sister went after my boyfriend, too. And... um..."

"Aw, this ain't her lucky day, is it?" His grin went wide, and dark. "Just ours."

"We... we don't have to. You don't have to," she added.

"Kinda do. Ain't come this far to not get off." Jenna swallowed nervously. "Right. You want it anyway. No shame in that. Don't argue."

"But you..."

He shook his head.Ain't difficult, is it? "Look, I'm gonna fuck you. Now we can do this easy or hard; don't matter to me. Already said I like a good, obedient slut so if you want to just spread 'em now, all the better. You wanna pretend like you gotta put up a fight? That's fun, too."

She didn't tell him any choice in particular, which was fine because he hadn't asked and didn't really care. When he started to push her legs open, though, that put a spark into the vixen -- she bucked, and kicked back against him, and with a dark laugh Harlan let her do her best.

The next time she kicked back at him he stepped away, and Jenna fell back, going over her center of gravity and starting to stumble. He grabbed her side with his paw and flipped the vixen around. A firm, heavy shove was all it took to sprawl her on the desk, flat on her back and dazed at the turn of events.

Then he was_on_ her, forcing himself between her thighs. Harlan clamped a paw over her muzzle and felt a shout muffle itself between his fingers. Her squirming intensified when his cock prodded her -- useless, 'cause it wasn't like she was going to be able to throw him off and, as far as he was concerned, it wasn't like she really wanted to.

Cute as her thrashing was, it had pushed him off-target and he was tired of the game. He thrust his hips sharply into her arching, bucking frame as she struggled and fought beneath his heavy weight. Blind thrusts -- enough for a second of hesitation and another mute shout losing itself in his paw, and then at the first hint of contact --

She stopped struggling, just like he'd known she would all along.

He slammed forward. Slick heat kissed the tip of his cock -- then quivering, wet tightness, yielding to his shaft as he claimed her. Her eyes went wide -- ain't like she wasn't still surprised or nothing -- and most of her startled yelp made it through his fingers but it was done, anyway: he was_in_ her, his swiveling hips hammering his length deeper inside...

Holy god she's tight, he thought, and then worth the fucking wait, that's for sure. He hadn't felt any resistance, either -- just her being difficult, and then the sweet, hot grasp of her wet cunt taking him all the way to the hilt. He pulled out slowly to let Jenna feel herself giving him up inch by inch --

Then drove himself back inside, and her yelp sounded an awful lot less surprised and an awful lot more like she was starting to figure it out. He released her muzzle, grinning down at her and watching her eyes lose the very last of their protest while she shuddered through his deliberate, lunging thrusts.

"Look at you," he praised the vixen even though she wasn't exactly doing much of the work. Still, it_was_ her first time. He put some extra effort in to get her attention. "Takin' that -- ngh -- takin' that dick like a champ, huh?"

"But you're so... s-so big... Harlan I'm not sure I can --" She was sorta whimpering, and hard to understand. The fox was torn between asking for clarification and not giving a shit. With how goddamn_good_ the squeezing, rippling warmth of her pussy felt, it wasn't like he was stopping.

"Not gonna break," he grunted hoarsely. "Think you're the first bitch I fucked into knowin' her place? Tell you though." He gritted his teeth and forced himself to slow down so he could really savor every moment of the next thrust. Every pulse and shiver as he worked his prick inside her, every twitch of the slutty vixen's ears and whiskers as she took him. "If you ain't the best I had..."

Jenna shut her eyes, panting all shaky and open-muzzled and tense. He fucked his cock into her steadily, building his pace up. Bit by bit he lowered himself onto her, forcing her to take more of his weight so he could concentrate on the insistent rhythm of his hips.

Her soft, dazed whining rose and fell in time to him; he could hear its pitch increasing, and that was worth encouraging. "Figure you are," he went on in a coarse groan. "You got the best goddamn pussy, Jenna. Might hafta fuck you every day..."

She let out a bubbly, uneven moan. But despite her earlier protests, he recognized_just_ that kind of moan. The kind of moan you got out of a bitch realizing she was where she belonged. Under a big, strong man, taking her for his own -- and sure, sometimes she'd need convincing, but you couldn't fight biology.

Biology said she was_supposed_ to be right there, shuddering and gasping with a nice big cock plunging faster and faster into her. No halfhearted denials could argue with that. Biology meant Jenna had already given in -- groaning now, starting to huff and stiffen up when his thrusts rammed her begging cunt full of thick, throbbing fox.

A squeal marked the next stage of her surrender. Her thighs locked to keep him in place, leaving him bucking with short thrusts into the deep spasms that gripped him. Jenna gritted her teeth hard and then squealed again, so that Harlan knew she'd be nice and spoiled for whatever boyfriend had the thankless task of being the lay she'd wind up settling for.

He still had a bit further to go, though not much -- and between that old biology and the aftershocks of her climax, when his knot swelled thick enough for her to notice her first response was a nice, telling gasp. Then her paw thumped his side, patting him urgently. "Don't knot me," she said -- all tense, and with the words slurring together.

The gasp, he knew, was what she'd_really_ meant. He pushed himself deep, working his hips from side to side so she could really feel that girthy canine endowment making itself known. "Do more'n that," he told her. He jerked back until he could finally slide free, and then leaned into the next thrust that forced his knot in with a nice, solid squelch. "Aw, yeah... gonna do more than that, babe..."

"Can't," the vixen panted. She started to pull away, but there wasn't much purchase on the desk and anyway he was pretty sure they were already tied. A startled yelp when he tried to withdraw confirmed it. "Y-you gotta pull out."

Instead he pushed into her in quick, humping thrusts, letting the stimulation on his knot take him over the edge. Her suddenly frantic squirming was a nice bonus. "That's it... that's a good bitch... god, Jenna -- such a good fuckin' --fuck!" The fox rammed into her one last time and his muscles locked, holding him in place. He had a good view of her eyes going wide as they both felt the heavy throb of his cock -- then the strong, hot gush of a man's seed claiming her for the first time.

She struggled at the first few spurts, but between his knot tugging at her and the warmth of being filled the vixen didn't last more than that. Another squeal and Harlan knew he'd_earned_ the satisfied groan he answered her with. Thrashing under him, bucking into his hips, Jenna milked his shaft for every warm splash of cum -- and he gave her all he had, draining himself deep inside the bitch as instinctive need suppressed her dumb little protests.

It was another minute or so, another panting breathless minute, before she got her_time-for-second-thoughts_ wits about her. And, of course, she had to make the mistake of thinking anyone gave a fuck. "Harlan, what was that?"

"A good fuck, that's what."

"But..."

"And your cute, slutty self showin' you know how to take a load."

"That's what I meant. I don't know about... that..."

"It was a compliment. You were a good girl."

"But what if..."

"Eh. Don't think anybody gets knocked up their first time." He inhaled deeply, and let out a contented groan. "Next time, though. Maybe the time after... shit, ain't gotta reason to give up, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe next time we could... I mean, I don't know."

"Nah. You know, babe. You know what you wanted, you know what you got." He gave her hip a few firm, possessive smacks. "Know what you're gonna keep gettin'. Works out for the both of us."

"If my sister finds out, though..."

"Then don't open your dumb bitch mouth to her. Fuck. Told ya it ain't that complicated; don't go_makin'_ it complicated." Maggie Reyes wasn't always thrilled about letting him knot her, so he was happy to have an alternative, but at least Maggie was good about shutting up afterwards.

"I just... I mean, she really went off on my boyfriend. And, like, I know she doesn't like you so --"

Harlan rolled his eyes, and used his paw to push Jenna's muzzle closed. She splayed her ears, but got the hint, and stayed quiet until he could pull out of her a few minutes later -- followed by a generous helping of the cum he'd pumped into her. The vixen stayed put while he tugged his pants on, frowning slightly at the mess.

"Kinda... sloppy..."

"So? You didn't think 'dirty' was just an insult, did you? Clean it up when I'm gone; whatever. You workin' tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Half-day, 'cause it's Saturday."

"Nice." He licked his chops in anticipation. "Wear something slutty. No point in lyin' now, is there?"

Halfway back home and stopping at the IGA again, he realized he'd left her with the last beer, and decided it would have to count as payment. Mostly, it pleased him to think a Rourke girl would be the sort of whore to put out for a can of PBR.Still gotta get Lisa one of these days. But until then, her sister was damn good on her own.

Kayla had her beads out and was stringing them together when he opened the door; she didn't bother looking up. "Go to the mill?"

"Nah. Fuck 'em. Got your yeast, though. An' here you're actin' like I don't give a fuck."

She laughed, tiredly; it wasn't really a new exchange for either of them. "I know, I know. I'll get dinner ready, don't worry."

Not that he had anything to worry about.

It was an unreliable, unfair universe, and if you wanted something you had to be willing to take it yourself.Gettin' better about that, Harlan. Showed Bobby what happens when he tries to pull one over on you. He could probably lean on the dingo to lift his dumb-as-shit embargo against visiting the parts store, too.

All just a matter of time. And if not, well, there was Jenna, and she wasn't about to say 'no,' was she?

The sharp, angry buzzing of his cell phone woke him up the next morning. He fumbled for it, answering blearily without checking the caller ID. "'Sup?"

"You stupid fuck." It was Bobby, and he sounded angry; Harlan tried to muster up the will to care. "You dumb, insubordinate piece of shit."

"What? It's Saturday. I ain't scheduled."

"No. You're not. And since you're so good with dates, what's the goddamn drinking age in Oregon?"

"Th'hell? Twenty-one. Calm down."

"What's the age of consent in Oregon, Crow?"

"Eh? I'unno."

"Are you drunk, you asshole? Can you drive?"

Harlan shut his eyes tiredly and debated the merits of just hanging up on the prick. "Yes. I'm not hungover or nothing. Why?"

"Go to the police station. Don't say a goddamn_word_ until I get our lawyer out here. Do you understand me?"

"I don't understand anythin', what are you on --"

"Yeah, I_noticed_." He could hear the dingo practically spitting into his end of the phone. "I noticed you don't understand anything. So keep your muzzle shut. And if you get your dumbfuck ass to the station in the next half-hour, they won't send a car. Thirty minutes, Harlan."

The phone went dead.

Kayla had mumbled herself to some half-awake state. "Who's that? Telemarketers?"

"Dean. Asshole. I gotta go take care of somethin', I guess."

"Yeah?"

"I dunno. Some bullshit."

Like there always was. He wasn't quite certain what had Bobby so irate, and early on a Saturday no less. The mill? The old dog certainly loved to pretend that damned thing was worth yelling about.Day was gonna go so well, too, he thought with a sigh.

Nah. Guys like him, they couldn't ever catch a break.