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Well, it took a while but I finally did something with my CPA series, only not what most people were thinking. A lot has happened since I posted the first chapter of this series a month ago. This actually would have gotten written sooner, but I was an idiot and lost my Nokia, which I had a good chunk of this written on. So I got stuck rewritting it, and...In short, it's been frustrating. However, things worked out fine, except for the fact that now my internet tablet is floating around out there with all my porn on it. Ah well, there are worse things. So, what's up with this? This is an attempt to tie up loose ends in one series I just didn't feel I could do justice at the time. I still don't think I can, but I felt like shit leaving it the way it was. 'Sides, I also had this awesome idea for a series that I couldn't just leave in my head. So, here it is! Anyways, legalities! Characters are copyright Timbe, (me) and canot be used without expressed permission of Timbe. (Still me. :3) You can only read this if you are eighteen, nineteen or twenty-one, depending on where you live. this may vary, but those are the common ages. I won't be held liable if you catch shit. But if you do catch shit, mention my stories, I need the exposure. A special thanks goes out to Lucien Lerderna, my editor. Thankies so much! So I hope you like this. Please, if you read this post some comments and vote. Something constructive would certainly be nice. Enjoy. :3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Really, it was an excessive amount of paperwork. But, Timbe supposed, it was to be expected. The cases just seemed to be getting more and more convoluted and he, for one, was not happy with that. In fact, their division got more paperwork than even the higher-ups in the CPA, and of course it was his and Ashley's job to deal with it, them being the only ones with the authority to do so. Otherwise he would have assigned the task of reading, summarizing and signing each article to whoever was not the coffee wench for that particular day. Both he and Ashley were assigned to a new unit in the Child Protective Agency of their branch. After they put a stop to a child prostitution ring about a year ago their superiors could not just overlook their skills, individually and as a team. Originally Timbe worked as a co-op student at the CPA, still in high school. After dealing with numerous cases efficiently with Ashley, and particularly after seeing to that prostitution gig being put under, their adeptness as agents was finally recognized. And that was how they were assigned to this new division. It was designed to help deal with extreme cases, ones which needed immediate or near-immediate intervention. Not to say that not all cases fell under this category, but a simple child molestation case is open and shut, with not much potential for lasting damage. (Physically, anyways. The mental and emotional damages were not exactly under their jurisdiction, much to Timbe's bewilderment and rage.) No, the cases they got now had the potential to result in death by the next morning. Which was, Timbe thought, a pain in the ass. As much as he wanted to do something, the fact of the matter was he often felt powerless with these cases. There was only so much they could do, and they often worked closely with the police. On top of that, they had to keep up to date on all of the new laws that were applicable to them. (When they could enter any given premises without a warrant, when certain levels of force was condoned...Really, there was very little that was NOT applicable.) It was just a big headache. On paper, due to his seniority and the experience gained from a certain case, Ashley was the head of the division. Anyone who knew anything, however, was well aware that it was both Ashley and Timbe's joint efforts that kept them afloat. Ashley,with all his experience, just could not match Timbe's genius and aptitude, and Timbe still lacked experience and, frankly, tended to fall apart when Ashley was not around. They went from working under three or four furs at any given time to having upwards of ten working under them. It was weird for Timbe, being nineteen and ordering thirty and forty-somethings around. Timbe gave this most recent file one last quick flip through before tossing it on the desk in front of him, on top of a pile of older case summaries, "...Well...This should be easy enough..." He closed his eyes and reclined in his chair, staring at the ceiling, the abstract patterns swimming to form different images in his mind with a mere refocusing of his eyes. "...But...? What's on your mind?" Ashley asked from across the desk, tidying the pile of papers like a student brown-nosing to his teacher. Opening his mouth to say something, Timbe closed his eyes, shifting awkwardly to alleviate some of the tightness in certain parts of his dress shirt. Being a bat was a pain - clothes shopping was a veritable hell. He rethought what he wanted to say, trying to put it into words, formulating sentences that might express his uneasiness but coming up with nothing up to his standards. He shrugged. Ashley must have seen, or rather, felt his internal struggle, and he chuckled, "...Is my little batty partner finally developing instincts?" 'Was that it? That's an even more unsettling thought...' "Hmm, I wonder...Certain details of this case stood out to me. I want to deal with this as soon as possible, but..." With one swift movement Timbe thrust his body forward and out of the chair he was in, his feet thumping dully on the floor loud enough to warrant a complaint from the offices below, "...I need some coffee. Who's the coffee wench today?" Timbe asked, a wicked grin curling at the edges of his mouth. Sighing, Ashley rose out of his chair with the disdain of a janitor being told to clean up projectile something-or-other off the walls in the washroom and dragged himself to the calender by the door to their office. After a short perusal, he replied, "Brian, but he's got-" "Oh Brian!" Timbe called out to the next room in a chant reminiscent of grade school (Do-So-Mi, a fragmented diatonic triad), ignoring the fact that Ashley had more to say. The door to adjoined office was closed. It was made of wood, with a frosted glass window. From behind the door Timbe could hear the almost satisfyingly audible sound of copious amounts of paper hitting carpeted floor, followed shortly after by a groan of exasperation. Typical sitcom moment, which made Timbe feel somewhat sorry for the poor guy. This feeling was quickly replaced by glee when the older canine's head shoved it's way through a crack in the door, unable to open it any further due to a paperwork landslide. Atop his head was a hat in the shape of a dunce cap, and written on it in Sharpie™ and in Timbe's handwriting the words "Coffee Wench." "...Yes, Your Highness?" Brian replied, clearly irked but good-naturally playing along with the policy Timbe put into place. In the office both Timbe and Ashley were liked equally, but for different reasons. Ashley was kind and caring, always looking after their subordinates. Timbe, on the other hand, was cruel, but not without a sense of humour. Anyone who laughed at what Timbe did to their coworkers was open to the same sort of treatment. They all seemed fine with this, so he had no remorse. It was all in good fun, anyways, and there were no complaints thus far. Maybe with the depressing nature of their work they needed some silliness to take their mind off of things. Fighting back laughter, Timbe ordered in a faux-authoritative voice that did not suit him if he did say so himself, "Bring me grog, coffee wench!" He settled himself back down in his chair, and beamed up at Brian, relaxing his vocal cords, "Please?" With a resigned sigh Brian shook his head, pushing his way through the door, which slammed shut behind him, likely held in place there by files over ten years old, "Fine, fine..Ash, you want anything?" Ashley, looking weary, sat down himself across from Timbe, "Some sleep. Think you can finagle that?" For the first time in what seemed like days Brian laughed, "Hehe, so NyQuil and coffee it is. Be back shortly." "H-hey, I was just kid - " Ashley said to the now-closed door which led to the hallway, "Ugh, that guy..." he muttered, not without the hint of a smile, "...We're busy. We all are. Him too. Do you have to be so rough on the...wenches?" Ashley was sure to place extra emphasis on this last word. "It builds character. Besides, he's been in there for four hours. He needs to get up and stretch his legs. Maybe get some coffee himself," Timbe spun in his chair, leaning back again, "I'm not oblivious, and I'm not totally callous, Ash. Gimme some credit." At this they both smiled, Timbe giggling quietly. For the last few days they had been buried under paperwork, Ashley sometimes even bringing some of it home, which severely pissed off the bat. They were partners at work, but they were also lovers at home, though they had not acted as such for well over a month. It was really becoming quite frustrating, and it was also becoming increasingly difficult to not blow their cover to everyone at work and just jump on his feline partner. Timbe really hoped things changed soon. "...We should probably go take care of this soon, huh?" Ashley tilted his head in the direction of the pile of papers, a vague sense of his duty bleeding through his somewhat depressed and tired mood. Timbe really wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, but he was suddenly reminded of something, "Yeah...We'll go in a few minutes. We just sent Brian off for our stuff. I wouldn't wanna go through all the trouble to get coffee and whatever else only to find I've been left behind." Ashley shrugged, and smiled, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Despite being hard on these guys you really do like them, don't you?"

• * * * * Their car of the train was empty, for which Timbe was abundantly grateful. It meant that he and Ashley could drape their arms over one another for a change, the opportunity to do so presenting itself less and less over the last month. They opted to take the train over their car just for this reason. In between rush hours practically no one was going their direction, and the ride was going to be about forty minutes, weather and accident permitting. The train drifted almost soundlessly over the tracks. It was quite romantic, Timbe thought, and the ride was much smoother than any other means of transportation, for the most part. What he would not give to just be able to ride on the train all day with no destination in mind, his phone turned off, no way to check his e-mails...His one big fear was having private time like that taken away from him with the ever advancing technologies being produced. So he thoroughly enjoyed his time away from such things. Near-empty travel mug of luke-warm coffee in his left paw, his right arm wrapped around Ashley, Timbe purred softly into his lover's neck. His black fur contrasted sharply against Ashley's white fur. Aside from their genders they were almost completely opposites. At least that was what Timbe thought, but then it was always easier to pick out differences than it was to notice similarities. "...It's nice to have time together like this..." Timbe cooed softly,curling up a little, "We need to do things like this more often." Ashley chuckled, his arm around Timbe pulling him closer, giving his shoulder a tender squeeze, "Mmm, I know...Which reminds me, after this case we were given some time off..." Timbe lifted his head at this, "...A month, actually. I've arranged for a trip to Italy for three weeks, since you said you really wanted to go there..." For the last year or so Timbe had been vocalizing all of his ideas for when they had some time off. A long string of romantic dinners at restaurants in the area, cuddling in bed all day watching sad and romantic movies, and of course flying off to Italy and spending all their time in bed 'n' breakfasts, only to find a chair, lunch 'n' dinner for the rest of the day, ad infinitum until they got back home. "...You really mean that? We'll finally have some time off?" Ashley nodded in response, "Wow, that's pretty generous of them, too...Especially with it getting closer to the holiday season..." Ashley sighed, "Are you worried about our work?" "Yeah. You know how things get this time of year..." he trailed off, then shook his head, trying to shake those thoughts away, "Well, if they say so then who are we to complain?" "Mmhmm, yeah," again Ashley nodded, a small chuckle making its way from the back of his throat, "Let's not worry too much about those details. We've done a lot, so let's -" 'He talks far too much...' Timbe thought as he leaned into Ashley and pressed his lips firmly against his lover's. Well, it was something Timbe thought cute at times, but it did tend to ruin the mood quite a bit and, as such, he often had to take it upon himself to make sure the mood was firmly in the foreground of whatever it was they were doing whenever it arose (with the exception of work, of course). Without so much as another sound between the two, they embraced one another as if their one wish was to become one body. Their eyes closed and they let their thoughts drift, feeling only the vague sensations of another warm body against their own. Sprawled across Ashley now, Timbe pinned him down as they flopped lengthwise across the pleather cushioned seats, which reminded him of those parts from the old movies that were on occasionally when the rambunctious teens would make love in the back seat of a '62 shitmobile. For the first time in what felt like ages Timbe felt euphoric and abundantly content. Every subtle movement - a knee brushing against a thigh, a paw on a chest - all reminded Timbe of...Something. He was not sure of what, exactly, only that it was an important feeling that he could not put into words, nor would he want to for fear of it being the wrong words. 'No more thinking, Tee, just enjoy...' And enjoy he did. Either due to his close romantic proximity to his lover or because of a lack of oxygen Timbe found himself quite short of breath after what he could have easily confused as ten minutes. 'Time may fly when you're having fun, but certainly it did not fly that fast,' he thought as he pulled his muzzle away from Ashley's slowly, kissing his cheek as he panted, ensuring he was heard. It was a sound that drove Ashley wild and Timbe knew it, always making sure to take advantage of that. Despite being the younger of the two Timbe always found himself to be in the dominant position these days. Not that he minded, per say, but sometimes a change was nice when it came to these things. Ashley, for one, always seemed to appreciate this, so Timbe certainly did not complain. After all, he did owe more than he could ever repay to him, though he was more than happy to try and do so anyways. Still, could it kill Ashley to be a little aggressive with him, take control for fifteen minutes and just go to town with him? Surely it was not too much to ask? Timbe kissed down from Ashley's ear as he thought all this, firmly planting his muzzle in the crook of his neck where he could bite and nibble at his leisure, his paws going to work up and under his shirt. He took special care to caress his lover's stomach, not only hearing his purr but feeling it wherever he bit, wherever any part of his body came in contact with Ashley's chest. Moving his muzzle further south, Timbe murred, opening his eyes as he rested his head on Ashley's stomach, one of his paws meandering ever upwards, now at his chest. Timbe took a moment to revel in the feeling of the moment. He wrapped an arm around one of Ashley's legs, stroked his chest fur with his other paw and softly inhaled his scent which Timbe believed to be one part sedative and one part aphrodisiac. Of course, he knew just which part would win out. After having his fill of the near-intoxicating not-drug, Timbe lifted his head from Ashley's stomach and disentangled his arm from around his leg. With the dexterity of a surgeon called in an hour after a New Year's Eve party ended, Timbe fumbled with the button and fly of Ashley's dress pants, having little to no luck with only one paw. His ears drooped, and he pulled his other paw out from under Ashley's shirt to help with the first paw's task of de-pantsing his partner. After a moment of struggling, down they came. His boxers came down much easier after this, though with Timbe still on his legs they only came down to his knees. Well, that was more than enough for the bat, and was quite pleased by the half-shocked, completely and painfully aroused look that was plastered on Ashley's face. Now that was something he did not see often enough. The same could be said of the kitty erection not even a foot from his face. "Oh, Ash..." Timbe took the feline's paw in his own, stroking it softly before placing it on his own cheek, his eyes half-closed, "did I tell you I love you yet today?" His paw cupped Timbe's cheek, and Ashley smiled his silly smile, "Mmm, you just did, dear...And I love you too..." Carefully Ashley shifted underneath the bat, now leaning his back against the tinted window of the train to give Timbe more room to work. Timbe smirked, "You damn-well better," he said, moving his head slowly to the base of the feline's member, his eyes still half-moons as he lapped out his tongue, running it along its length. When he reached the head, he gave it a few quick kitten-like licks, the paw on his cheek immediately clenching slightly, a soft moan escaping Ashley's lips as he gazed down in what Timbe assumed was an expression of lust and longing, "Hmm..." Timbe put on his best feminine, helplessly cute and sensual face, his posture soon following, his dress clothes in obvious defiance of this turn of events, "...What would you like your little boyfriend to do for you...?" he said in the most pathetically sweet voice he could muster with a cock in his face. The paw on Timbe's cheek began stroking gently, and Ashley closed his eyes, "Silly...I only want you..." At this Timbe tilted his head, and he added hastily, "...And maybe a blowjob?" 'Leave it to Ash to almost kill the mood...' But really, what else could Timbe do but go along with it? It was not as though he did not want this just as bad, and he had been craving kitty semen dancing across his tongue for...Well, too long to recall. He was not about to let Ashley ruin it with a clumsy tongue, "Mmm, alright..." Timbe tried his best to sound feminine, which was only a little bit harder after puberty really began setting in. His own member was struggling painfully against the confines of his pants and belt, but that could easily wait. He mentally placed this on the back burner of his mind next to the vacation and the potential Christmas bonus they were bound to get pretty soon and instead focused on what was directly in front of him; a horny little kitty and his not-so-little erection twitching in anticipation of what it was about to be going inside. At least, that was how Timbe liked to think of it. It made it sound much more lewd and exciting to think that a penis had thoughts, especially thoughts like that. (But then, what other kinds of thoughts could a penis POSSIBLY have?) It was odd how Timbe thought these things. He would say he had ADD, but thought that that was just a term to describe children whose parents could not keep them under control and had to resort to medication. His description of the "affliction" often started debates with others, in which he would be slammed, as it were, for being an inconsiderate, ignorant fuck. So be it. But if it was not ADD then it must just be an overactive imagination. He could live with one of those. Maybe two. No, probably not. "...Uh, Timbe? You okay? You're kinda...Spacing out there..." Timbe heard Ashley's voice from some distant corner of his mind that he had retreated to. Timbe was breathing softly on the head of Ashley's member, oblivious to everything around him as he was in his own little world filled with thinking penises and overactive imagination(s). His breath must have been utter torment on the feline who was now visibly squirming with each breath Timbe took, cold air rushing past into his muzzle, hot breath washing over his head, coating it with a thin film of moisture which made the repeating process ever more torturous. "Ah, yes...I'm fine..." Timbe murred, then, remembering his place, "But not nearly as fine as you, dear..." to which Ashley looked away, most likely blushing underneath his fur. Barely allowing his tongue to touch the sensitive flesh, Timbe continued to lap up and down Ashley's member, with each stroke allowing more surface area of his tongue to come in contact with the meat. It was torture not only for Ashley but Timbe as well; what he would not give to just take the thing in his mouth and suckle it like it was a feeding tube for the sexually depraved. (Which it was, though that was besides the point). No, there were formalities when it came to sucking cocks, Timbe was sure of it. One did not just gobble down cocks like someone did when they had a fine meal after starving themselves for five days. That was just poor etiquette. And so Timbe did what he felt was necessary in such a situation, and made sure to take dainty little "bites" of his meal, (which, and he was careful of this, did not become bites for a little while, when he could no longer be satiated) slowly taking a bit more of Ashley's member into his mouth at a time, guiding it in with a curl of his tongue. With each small bob of his head he let his hair fall into his eyes, his sharp teeth brushing ever so slightly across the sensitive membrane of the feline's head. Ashley had been moaning for sure, a chorus that crescendoed and decrescendoed to Timbe's masterful conducting, but with the added dimension of the bat's teeth on his sensitive flesh Ashley let loose with a full-on fortissimo groan of pure bliss. When Timbe learnt of Ashley's mild masochism, what else could he do but fulfil this little kink of his? Letting his throat relax, Timbe let more of Ashley's length slip past his lips, thoroughly enjoying the salty-sweet taste of his precum as it dribbled down his member. God, how he had missed this! Given the opportunity he would do this every night. Probably every morning, as well. And afternoon. And evening, if Ashley felt up to it. That was a bit iffy. But morning and night seemed quite plausible, and would have to be worked back into their schedules somehow. Was his thinking slowing him down again? 'Oh hell,' Timbe thought as he took Ashley's entire length into his mouth, the tip beginning to enter the bat's throat. He chanced a glance up at Ashley, his head tilted back, his purring punctuated by small gasps and loud moans, his chest rising and falling rapidly. To Timbe's surprise the paw that had been on his cheek was now tangled in his hair, which kinda miffed the bat. Did Ashley think hair like his did not require a lot of work to maintain? But that thought was quickly shoved out of his head by the cock in his mouth, and the now sharply thrusting hips behind it. Still bobbing his head Timbe was determined not to miss a single drop of what he knew was coming. He sped up, one paw softly stroking the feline's stomach while the other moved to fondle his testicles, giving them a sharp squeeze or tug every so often in time with his thrusts. Timbe was the perfect little boyfriend, knowing just how to please his mate, and just when to use this knowledge. And hell, if he could not use this information to make him scream, he could at least use it for extortion. Extortion was the last thing on Timbe's mind though, as Ashley's lower half arched, his paw gripping the bat's hair tightly, his free paw clenching the seat cushion beneath them leaving tiny puncture marks in the pleather from his claws. He let out a soft whimper before a loud moan escaped his lips, which carried over a few breaths. Ashley's hips continued to thrust minutely as his body hung in the air, and Timbe's mouth filled with the feline's seed, sweeter than he ever remembered it being. He savoured it, rolling the member in his mouth around, tasting everything from different angles on the off chance it changed the flavour at all. This only elicited consecutive moans from Ashley and more aggressive pistoning of his hips. Quickly getting the picture, Timbe lapped up what was left of the cum in his mouth and began bobbing his head once more, this time starting off rapidly, knowing full well how this was going to end and, after a quick glance at his watch how quickly it absolutely NEEDED to end. He gave Ashley's testicles one quick squeeze, followed by a few tugs and waited as his mouth once again acted as a receptacle for Ashley's semen, practically gushing forth over his palette and trickling down his throat. With a few short moans Ashley collapsed back onto the cushions, panting and gasping for air, his member popping out of Timbe's mouth, a short trail of semen catapulted into his already messy hair. Before Timbe could make any remarks about this, the train jerked a little as it began to slow down, their stop quickly approaching, Timbe noticed as they passed some familiar landmarks. As much as he wanted to debate the current state of his hair, Timbe thought it best to get pants on his partner before they ended up having to explain just what they had been doing, much to the chagrin of whoever was to be on the receiving end of that anatomy lesson. "...Hey. We're just about there, love," Timbe shook Ashley's knee, who continued to lay on the cushion, catatonic. He decided to take advantage of Ashley's lack of complete consciousness, "...Oh Ashley! Brian's here with the coffee! Better get'cher knickers on!" This had the desired effect, though the realization came in stages. First Ashley lifted his head, still breathing heavily, his hair askew. Then, he looked down to his crotch, his now semi-soft member dribbling post-orgasmic cum onto the cushion beneath him. "Brian is...? Ah shit! Help me with my..." "Welcome back to the land of the living love. The train's just about at the station." Timbe smirked as he stood up, holding on to the railing for support as the train began to rock and jerk, the brakes feeling as though they were made pre-World War II. "...No coffee?" Ashley asked, pulling up his boxers and dress pants, punch-drunk and retarded. As good-naturedly as possible Timbe smiled, hoping to alleviate some of the stress of the situation. "No. No coffee. Now get out your comb and help me find the washroom on this train. I need to do some damage control on my head." * * * * * Now that he thought about it, it was probably a bad idea to have done that on the train. But, as the old saying goes, "what's done is done." Ashley thought it best not to think about it too much. Still, five years ago he never would have thought that he would be where he was. Head of his own unit in the CPA with his supposed adopted child, who also happened to be his lover...Well, if that was not a mind fuck, then he certainly did not know what was. He had to admit, though, at twenty-five he was doing more than just alright for himself. At the rate he and Timbe were going they could quite easily retire at age fifty or so and live very comfortably. He got the feeling, though, that Timbe would not want to do so so early. Ah, to be young and determined again. Snow was softly starting to fall, the ground barely cold enough for it to remain snow. The black tarmac turned a shade of grey that Ashley always associated with the first snowfalls of Winter. It was the end of November, and despite the temperature being just right, snow had refused to fall until just recently. Of course the country had suffered mass amnesia over the last few seasons and forgotten how to drive in even a centimetre of snow. Already there had been one or two accidents back home. Who knew how many in this town? Timbe took the lead as they walked somewhat briskly down the quite-dead suburban street. Now three in the afternoon, they could at least get a start on this case with little interference from the busybodies that otherwise milled about when they were not at work. The last thing they needed were extra people wandering about, butting in, asking questions and complicating things needlessly. The police could handle that shit, while Ashley could not. "...Ash." Timbe had stopped dead in his tracks, and Ashley nearly walked right into him. He stopped himself before he ploughed the little bat over, and before he could ask what was the matter he saw for himself what it was, "...Oh, son of a..." "Yeah..." Timbe said in disdain, shaking his head, "...What do you make of this?" Ashley was in a mild state of shock, not really sure what he was looking at. A little ways around the corner lot, just barely visible around the corner house which jutted out quite far (likely violating some building codes) were two police officers standing on someone's front lawn, yellow police tape strewn about in an unprofessional manner like party favour tape, and a small heap on the ground. There were only a few possibilities Ashley could think of, none of which were entirely pleasant. Most likely of them all, as much as he hated to admit it: they were too late. Afraid to vocalize this, he only shrugged, "...Let's just go and find out. It's our job to investigate, not speculate." Timbe seemed to ponder this for a moment before nodding quickly, "Yes, of course. Let's go, then." his tone flat and even. Clearly he was trying to suppress the same feelings he himself was having. They approached the police officers, Timbe first to produce his CPA badge, Ashley following suit shortly after, fumbling with it as he tried to control his body while lost in a completely different world. This was something that Ashley never came to grips with, not completely. Being a CPA agent could be very rewarding, or very...devastating, depending on the outcome. There were no guarantees how a case would end, though everyone hoped, prayed, and did their damnedest to see to it that it was a happy ending for those who deserved it. 'Face it, Ash, dead children were in the job description in the fine fucking print.' "...Wait, so this was just a case of neglect..." Ashley was only able to pull one or two parts of his brain back from his own world at any time, and now he heard Timbe's voice, somewhat far off, "...And it ended up like...This? How does this..." "We don't really get it either," came an unfamiliar voice, likely one of the officers. It took all of Ashley's willpower to pull his vision out of the grey clouds that tended to haunt his thoughts to look at them. The one who just spoke seemed to be a well-groomed collie. The other, a lupine, and neither of them wore a friendly expression. Ashley was of the mind that now there was no child to protect that this whole case was out of their jurisdiction. At least, that was what he thought at first, but there were likely loose ends that needed to be tied up. There always were. All Ashley wanted to do was climb back into his shell so that Timbe could handle things as efficiently as possible on his own. "Then what the fuck DO we get here, huh?" This was Timbe, and a side of Timbe Ashley rarely ever saw, only when things went colossally, horribly and utterly wrong, "We got a dead kid with a puncture wound to the neck done in such a way and in such a place that only a fucking ninja coulda done it, and you're holding his mother, who is a janitor and would have no bloody idea how to do that shit, accountable. Does that sound about right?" "We're not anymore pleased about this than you are, we assure you," this was the lupine, his tone as calm as he could possibly make it. He must, no, they all must be feeling the same thing right now. No one likes to see someone else dead, especially not a kid, and especially when you are supposed to stop things like that from happening. They were all blaming themselves and trying not to take it out on each other. Except for Timbe. "We had no choice," the canine chipped in, "She was the only one around. That, and since she is his legal guardian...She could at least be a witness, if it wasn't her. "Grr, but -" "Timbe, quiet." Ashley could almost see the big "handle with care" sticker on Timbe's forehead right now. He had to be gentle but assertive, lest he open a whole other can of worms, "NO ONE is pleased with this, and yelling'll only make everyone even more upset. Let's relax and gather the facts. Timbe?" "...Alright, alright..." Timbe mumbled after a moment, "Well...We have a dead kid, killed in a very obscure way. Father missing somewhere, you're looking for him. Mother in custody, likely not the one who killed him and likely didn't see anything..." "What makes you say that?" the canine officer asked. Timbe shrugged, "The guilty party in the negligence case is the father, right?" The lupine nodded, "The mother was not involved, and did what she could to help the child, from what I gather in the reports. Chances are she would not have killed her own child unless she absolutely thought that, given the circumstances, he'd be better of dead. I doubt this to be the case. She likely didn't see anything, or she would have said something sooner. And you said you found something in his room that might be important...?" The officers looked bewildered for a moment, but that quickly passed. "Ah, right!" said the canine, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an evidence bag, "We did find this, it was the only really odd thing in the room. It corresponded with some data we found on his home computer, as well..." he added, shifting his weight from one paw to the other, "...But we sent it off so we can collect more data. You want to know what we found?" Ashley stepped forward and took the bag. Inside it was a piece of paper, about three inches by five inches, and somewhat thick. The odd thing was that it was split open about halfway, almost like a banana. Had it been torn anymore it would have become two separate pieces of paper the exact same size. And written on one side were the words: Memento mori Ego instituo vestri pectus pectoris intus illa lacuna ...What the bloody hell did that mean? "Er, yes, if it's at all possible to tell us that without conformation from your tech team?" Ashley heard himself asking, his mind slowly being sucked back into the grey fog. "Yes, we can tell you, we have authorization. It may or may not be anything, but...Well, there is this new fad hobby. InfoCaching. Where you collect notes found lying around, abandoned. The odder they are, the bigger the find it is," he sighed before continuing, "furs upload what they find onto some forums made specifically for these things, and they compare. Our kid here," he motioned to the body, which Ashley only just noticed was in a body bag, "was a member of these forums." "If it's something online, then things have just gotten infinitely more difficult.." Timbe grumbled, obviously not pleased about this revelation. "This is true, but we want to investigate what's right in front of us right now, and leave the techie stuff the the techies." Staring into space, Ashley hardly noticed the note taken from his paws by Timbe, who inspected it with only the vaguest of interest, "...Memento...Mori...? What was it...'Remember that you are mortal' or something along those lines? 'Remember to die?' Huh..." Timbe shrugged, "This might actually end up being quite significant. Can your guys work on this?" "Yes, of course." The canine took the bag back from Timbe and placed it in its pocket, "There are arrangements for you to be put up in a hotel while this investigation goes on. Normally we wouldn't involve you, but, well..." he looked at Timbe, almost apologetically. Timbe sighed, "Yes, right, of course..." This sort of thing happened from time to time. Police departments just were not up to snuff, and could not deal with things like they used to. They had some intelligent people, to be sure, but they needed a fresh mind sometimes to deal with modern cases. It was not just sleuthing around, but it took a whole different line of thinking to solve cases sometimes. And that was where Timbe came in. The officer handed Timbe a small notepad, which Ashley assumed contained contact details for their particular department in the prefecture as well as directions to their hotel. With that, the police officers gave a courteous bow, turned, and walked towards their car, not even looking back as they drove off. Surely they would not have left them with a dead body like this? But no sooner had they left than a white-panelled van rolled in and parked along the curb where the police car had been. A stern looking woman stepped out of the passenger seat and walked briskly towards them, slamming the door behind her, "You are...Mr. Filblight?" she asked Timbe, her voice stern without a hint of warmth Ashley thought she looked like a librarian. She was a feline like him, wore pale greys, her hair was done up in a bun and she wore horn-rimmed glasses...he could just see her wandering up and down isles of books shushing anyone who turned a page too loudly. And oh the hell you would catch if she caught you making out in the stacks! The thought, now that he knew he would never catch shit for something like that ever again, made him smile inwardly. At the mention of his last name Timbe visibly flinched, "Er, yes...And just call me Timbe, please." "Alright," they shook paws, and nodded to one another, "So this is the body?" "Yeah...You'll have to talk to the guys at the station about details..." Timbe told her in the most helpful tone he could muster. "Hmm," she grunted, walking right past Ashley, his paw outstretched for her. "I...Huh?" Ashley balked, still somewhere in the clouds. "...Uh...hey loverboy? You were staring at her chest way too long," Timbe smirked and smacked him on the shoulder. The realization of what Timbe just said took a moment for it to really kick him in the stomach, "I...Oh hell, really?" 'I wasn't staring at her breasts, I was staring into my own head.' If he was going to get in trouble for something then he should at least be able to enjoy it and damn well deserve it. Timbe smiled, "...You space out way too much," he rested a paw on Ashley's shoulder, "...But I got a good idea why. We'll talk about it later, okay dear?" Maybe talking things through would help him deal with all this. He was not about to tell just anyone, but if he was to tell someone it would have to be his lover, "...Yeah, okay. Thanks, Timbe." He tried to smile, and hoped his face made the correct shape, and added quietly "I love you..." The grip on his shoulder tightened, "I love you too, Ash..." he said quietly, "...And don't ask me how I know this..." he continued in a hushed voice, "...but I think we might have to put Italy off for a while."