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This was one of those moments, Trick thought, where no amount of studying or observing life through a movie or a documentary could prepare someone for the real thing. The longer he stared, the more Sandy's suggestive grin faded, and the more serious he knew he must look himself.

'I'm sorry,' Sandy said. 'I guess I got the wrong idea. You won't tell anyone, right? I'm sorry. I need to go home.'

'Don't go home,' Trick said. 'The joke's on me. I'm standing here like an idiot because I jerked off on my bed twenty minutes ago. And right here there's a good looking otter who just knocked on my door and...honestly, I've never had that offer before. Not like this.'

Sandy looked a little relieved, but still looked like he could bolt. 'Was it okay though? I wasn't out of line or anything?'

'Of course not. After what you heard me say to my dad? All you did was give me what I bargained for, and bam, surprise! I deserved that.'

'Yeah. You did. But I meant it though. I'm still at your service.'

'You don't have to offer to fuck me just to get inside my house, Sandy. Why don't you come in and we'll have a drink?' Trick gestured to the doorway, and as Sandy walked in in front of him, trying to look confident, Trick realised the other otter was a little drunk. Maybe even a lot, but holding it. Impressive turnaround time though - during Trick's three mile walk, Sandy had shut the bar, necked liquid confidence, and changed out of work clothes and made himself look like this.

'Nice place,' he said. 'My dad never bought me a house. My parents won't even talk to me. And I'm not sympathy fishing. They don't think I'm worth knowing? Fuck 'em. I'll go talk to someone who does.' He put on a smile Trick was certain was forced. 'You got gin? Tequila?'

Trick stood in front of Sandy and gently put both hands on his shoulders. 'How about a cup of coffee, Sandy? A good strong one with a couple of sugars.'

Sandy sighed deeply, looking down at the floor. 'I'm a fucking idiot.'

'Uh-uh. That would have been if you stayed home tonight and did nothing. I love your courage, right here. Come on, lift this up a little.' He stroked under Sandy's chin and the other otter lifted his head. 'That's better,' Trick said. 'I can't fuck someone who's drunk. Neither of us would feel good about that tomorrow. But we can have a cuddle with some coffee and he can tell me why his parents kicked him out because he's gay. That sound okay?'

'I don't wanna talk about Mom and Dad,' Sandy said. 'And I'm useless at fucking. All I wanted to do was get my confidence up. I spent the rest of my shift feeling like an idiot for not coming with you. So I thought I could change that. And I'm not that drunk. I only had three shots.'

'That's a brand new sofa,' Trick said, leading Sandy to it with a hand on the back of his neck. 'Never been sat on. So sit your newly confident butt on it and I'll go see if this place has a coffee machine.'

It did. It was never not going to, Trick thought. When everything else was so perfect, it couldn't be ruined by lack of a strong, steaming cup. Making it gave him space to gather his thoughts. He chose coconut milk instead of regular, and put two shots of espresso into Sandy's latte, with two sugars on top. When he put it into Sandy's hands and watched him take a sip, close his eyes and sigh, Trick wondered if he'd fall asleep right there.

'So good,' Sandy said. 'Thanks. I needed that.'

'So, confident otter, you from Cali or did you run away here after whatever happened with your parents?'

'I ran.'

'From where?'

'Maine. I hitchhiked.'

'Seriously?'

'Yeah. I thought I'd learn a bit about life, trying to walk from one side of this rock to another. I kinda did. And I still don't feel like I can do anything with it. I got the job in the bar though. That's a start, right?'

'Any idea where you want to end up?'

Sandy shook his head, clasping his hands around the cup. 'I just know I need more money. You're going to think I came here gold digging. I really didn't, I promise. I don't want your money. I just wanted to be better, cooler, get up the guts to try and get somebody decent to want to be with me. I've had two shitty boyfriends. One of them threw me against a wall and gave me a concussion. When I told Mom and Dad about it at the hospital...we had a fight for two hours and they said they weren't taking me home or paying my bill.'

'Rough,' Trick said, deciding not to make assumptions out loud, but the rest was obvious. 'Fuckable tail' had been getting this idea since Ty Goldman called him that, and thought he could be confident enough to tell someone who clearly had money what his going rate was. Hefty bill to pay back in Maine that he was probably getting chased for. No flight records of where he'd gone, because he'd done it in cars with strangers. Was his name really Sandy? 'I'm sorry you've had a rough time in life. But you're smart. You came to the place where you can be anybody and turn all that around.'

'Yeah. God bless the American fucking dream.'

'Listen, Sandy...I hope you don't mind, is that your real name?'

Sandy shook his head. 'I never want to hear the name I was born with again. It's dumb and I've always hated it. I even lied on my form for the job. Didn't figure a bar like that would bother running a check on my social security number. I still go in every day worrying I'll get called in because they've done it, but it never happens. I'm trying to save up my pay to get it changed legally. I always wanted to be Sandy. Like Kofax. I used to be good at baseball.'

'What surname did you pick?'

'Rickwood.'

Rickwood wasn't an otter name, but Trick suddenly wondered why not. It worked. 'Sandy Rickwood. I like that. That's cool, you're Sandy to me and nobody else.'

Sandy perked up, his tail twitching a little. 'Thanks. I needed to hear someone say that.'

Trick thought about stroking his cheek again, and most other parts of him, but thought a little distance worked better this time. 'Well, you're a good looking otter, Sandy Rickwood. Even though you're strictly off limits to me until we've at least picked your self esteem up. What else do you need to hear me say? Okay, here's something. I need a job. I've hardly got any money. That's my Dad for you. Set me up in a place like this that he knows I can't afford to live in. Just to see how I try to cling on.'

'Seriously?'

'Never mistake a rich man's generosity for generosity. But a poor man's?' This was right, Trick thought. He'd considered it while making coffee, and knew it wasn't really considering. It was a first step. 'How would you like to live here, Sandy?'

Sandy only kept hold of his cup because Trick already had a hand there to help him. 'I just nearly spilt coffee on your new couch,' Sandy said, as if he'd heard nothing.

'Easy to save up for your name when you don't have rent bills to pay. Or we could share them if you've got a no-charity principle, but I can take care of it. I've got plans. I'm keeping this place and I don't want to live alone in it.'

'This is the...' nicest thing anyone had ever done for him? 'You only met me this week, Trick. How do you know I won't bring total misery and chaos in here?'

Trick smiled. 'When you followed me home, how did you know I wouldn't slam you against a wall like your nasty boyfriend?' A moment later, he knew he'd made the wrong choice of words when Sandy shook a little. 'I'm sorry. I won't keep bringing that up. I should have just told you I'm good, and you just knew it from the start. So, we going to be housemates?'

'I don't know, Trick. Can I think about it? I'm not used to anything this good.'

'Neither am I. I'm here on holiday. My bedroom back in Phoenix is a shoebox. I went to an ordinary high school because there aren't any pool schools in Arizona that don't cost a fortune. My mom's a waitress. My millionaire Hollywood dad pays minimum kid support. I'm the last kid to turn eighteen and what he was really celebrating was not having to pay anymore.'

'But he bought you this house?'

'What can I say? The man's a magnificent cunt.'

Sandy sniggered, then burst out laughing. 'That's a shameful thing to call your own father, Trick.' Sandy didn't look like he was judging though. He looked like someone who'd called his own worse. Or maybe not called them anything at all, because the shock of them doing what they'd done had numbed him, and now he was wishing he'd just been Trick in that situation instead. He raised his coffee cup. 'Here's to having shitty family.' They clinked cups. 'Sorry, I should have asked, is your mom cool?'

'My mom?' Trick said. 'She rules. Wait till you meet her.' Your boyfriend slammed you into a wall? You should have seen my mom put my older brother Ryan against one for being a bully. Trick almost added it, but thought better of it.

'I wouldn't sweat it about the pool school though,' Sandy said. 'It doesn't matter where you go to school. It still sucks no matter how suited it is to your species.'

'You went to a pool school? Jealous already.'

'I got stuck in a tube and nearly drowned.'

Trick had to try not to laugh and failed, thanking his lucky star that Sandy was laughing with him.

'Yeah,' Sandy said.

'How do you get stuck in a tube full of water when you're an otter?'

Sandy stared into his coffee for a moment, then into space, then back at Trick. 'Before I hiked here, I was sixteen stone.'

'Sixteen_stone_?'

'At least your school never had to give you a written warning about your size. When you get over a certain weight for you height at a pool school, you get red flagged. So you don't do what I did. My first warning, I tried. I really did. I went to the gym more, tried to stop eating crap. It didn't work. My second, I got banned from using the tubes. So I used one anyway. Because fuck 'em. I wanted to get expelled. I hated that place. It never even occurred to me I might drown and die. I was just mad as hell and I got in the tube. I actually made it halfway to class.'

'You were a fat otter?'

'Yeah.Was.' Sandy looked confident now. Good play, Trick thought. Whatever he did to lose those pounds, he was proud of it. 'You like me now though, right? You said it.'

'You were probably good looking even when you were fat.'

Sandy rolled his eyes. 'And you've fucked it up. You were doing so well at playing counsellor to me. But let me explain something: somebody who's used to bullying and fat shaming is not going to take that as a compliment. I looked like shit. I felt like shit. So I did something.'

'That never meant people were right to bully you.'

'Who cares about it now? It's behind me. This is me now. Confident otter. That school and everyone in it can suck my dick. There's a water park down the road from here. I go every day to remind myself I'm a million miles from getting stuck in tubes anymore.'

'How did they get you out?'

'They had to drain the tube and dismantle it. After they'd cut a hole and got a diving mask through so I could breathe while they got ready to do it. I was stuck in there for five hours. It cost the school over thirty thousand bucks to do all that and put it right again.'

'This is an expensive otter I've just asked to come live with me.'

'Proud of it. One day I hope the world's still paying for me after I'm dead.'

'You get the expulsion paper?'

'Yeah. I never got my diploma. I'm a dropout. I thought about trying to find somewhere here so I can finish, but...I know, it's dumb, but...I want it to be the first real thing I do as Sandy Rickwood. So I need a job to save up to officialy be him. No diploma, no decent job. No decent job, no.... what the hell am I saying? Yeah, I'll be your housemate. Can I pay a share of the bills after I'm Sandy?'

'You're already Sandy,' Trick said. 'I promise, I'll never tell anyone you were ever someone else. I'll never even ask what your name was again.'

Sandy went from looking grateful to looking baffled. 'How do you get this so well?'

'I had a middle brother, William. He's now my sister Willow. Believe me, I'm used to people being whatever they want to be. You should have seen how my dad reacted to that. It might take Willow quite some time to look at me again after I tell her about this place. All my other brothers too.'

'Especially Kyle.'

'Oh, you heard that part too? Nosy otter with a good pair of ears.' He let himself touch the tips of Sandy's ears.

Sandy shook his head. 'I'm sorry I turned up here like I did. I was gonna...ah, forget what I was gonna do. You've got a special person in your life already, haven't you? The snep. Even if it's gonna be a little awkward with your brother.'

'Kia's a friend who just started allowing benefits,' Trick said. 'I don't think him and me in a relationship would work. You should meet him though. Yeah, good idea, hang about down here, I'll find my phone. You want some more coffee.'

'It's two in the morning,' Sandy said. 'Normal people sleep.'

'Yeah,' Trick said. 'So they do.' He crossed his legs on the sofa and wrapped his tail into his lap. 'Go on. Tell me what you were going to do when you got here. Don't be ashamed. Even if it's what I think.'

'What do you think?'

'Well, how much does fuckable tail need to buy himself a name?'

Sandy's eyes went wide. 'I didn't want you to pay to fuck me. I just wanted to feel like somebody wanted to. Because...okay, look, I wasn't going to be a rent-boy, but I was thinking of doing something that's maybe worse. Something that'd really freak my parents out if they ever got hold of it. A great big fuck you world, this is who I wanna be. So I've...kinda set up this audition. The kind that'll pay if I get it. But I've been thinking about it all day and I don't know if I can. So I came here. I thought maybe if I just showed up and cut to the chase and you did your thing with me, I might feel ready.'

Trick grinned from ear to ear. 'Have I got this right, Sandy Rickwood? You've got an interview with a place that makes porn films?'

Sandy shifted around, his arms folded around himself. 'Yeah. Apparently we're an 'underserved market,' if you can believe that. Everywhere wants to hire otters right now. But I can't. Look at me right now. It's hard enough to even talk about it. How am I gonna actually perform for anyone? It's not even a dignity thing, I don't care if someone else wants to watch me suck someone off, or anything else. I just...' Sandy looked at the ceiling. 'What if they say something like "It'd be better if you were fat?" These places are nuts, right? They'll say stuff that like. Fat furs is a whole market. What if I go in there and they see straight through all this and just know who I was before and like it better?'

'Well, you won't know unless you try, huh?' Trick said. 'Can I make another of my dumb guesses? You want me to come with you. Supportive friend who doesn't judge.'

'No. You can do that if you want, but that's not it. You're an actor, right? That's what you said. What you wanna be. So act for me. I want a rehearsal.'

There was no acting needed to get this going. The itch in Trick's pants was fast becoming a bulge already. 'What kind of film are they recruiting for?'

'I dunno. It was an open add for all otters. Sorry, I know that doesn't help. Just...I heard that comment you made to your dad. A real Hollywood exec, and then he said...what he said. Can you do that? Can you be him for ten minutes and check me out? We don't have to fuck. Just pretend this is round one.'

I'm in character already. This guy is nervous as hell. The impression I'm doing of my father's face earlier this evening is giving him the kind of adrenaline dump he hasn't known since his near drowning. He doesn't want to be that bullied fat boy anymore. He's standing in front of a man with the power to really make or break his world and I want to see him impress me.

Trick slowly turned around and sat properly, leaning back into his couch with suggestive nonchalance. He tipped his head slightly up, and gestured to the middle of the room. Sandy got up and stood in front of him. 'Alright young man, I don't want a lawsuit and believe me you don't either. How old are you?'

'Nineteen, sir.'

'Can you prove it?'

Don't hunch up, Trick thought. Don't fold your arms. Don't look down. Don't breathe faster. Somehow, Sandy was managing it all as though there was some sort of telepathy between them.

'Well...I don't have any ID, sir. Okay, yeah, I do really, but...I'd rather I showed it after I've changed my name. I need this job so I can do that. That's what I'm willing to do. Anything it takes to be who I want to be. I'm a little shy I know, but for a new me? I'm ready to be confident. Or maybe play the shy guy if you've got a film that needs that. I've got a bit of a story, I-'

'Hold it right there. I don't need your life, kid. I need you to be legal. Step one. But I don't gotta see your ID. My PA sees that later. All I asked is if you've got it. Quit getting ahead of yourself. Coz I don't care what your name is right now and I aint going to later either. So answer the goddamn question.'

'Yes sir, it's no problem.'

'Much better. How about less talk from now on?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Perfect. See those ears you got up there? Use 'em and use 'em good. I don't care if you wanna play shy, confident, wear a pup mask, come on someone's face, do stuff that's gonna get you banned in several states, none of that. You're a young guy and you aint got a bad looking face. But it aint your face that makes you money in this business. It's that thing between your legs that you've gotta be more careful with than even your signature. That's gonna become your signature. Know what I'm saying.'

'Yes sir. I can write a signature with that.'

So don't stand there, Trick thought. Nice. Play this with snark. He held his palms upwards. 'May I see it then? Before I bring you some paper?'

Sandy unbuttoned himself, pulled the elastic on his pants down and flopped his cock out.

'Hmm,' Trick said. 'Not bad. Come over here and lift it up for me a little. Little closer. Alright, not the best I ever saw but you get a bonus point for good hygiene. Trust me kid, not all otters are clean. Some of them don't even seem to like water, you'd think it if you've seen what I've been looking at all day. I run a clean establishment and that's what I expect. That gonna be okay?'

Sandy nodded.

Trick gestured him back to the centre of the room. 'You a virgin, kid?'

It rattled Sandy's cage, just like Trick had expected. 'Yes sir I am. Your ad did say No previous experience necessary.'

'It didn't say I was running a school, kid.'

'I don't need a school to learn. Or do it fast. I dropped out of high school. I still got myself here from Maine to come work for a guy like you.'

Good play, Trick thought. 'So you've never fucked another otter.'

'No sir.'

'Listen up then kid, because if you've got any doubts this is where you'd better tell me. Interspecies is hot at the moment. Let me tell you what learning fast is gonna be. I just hired the hottest snow leopard this side of Hollywood Boulevard. He's coming in tomorrow for his induction. His induction's gonna be inducting you. Catch my drift? He's gonna induct several people, but I think I'm going to start him with you. Fresh meat.'

Sandy's tail swiped back and forth. 'I'm hired?'

'Don't blow it, kid. I said think. That's what you gotta do right now. Your first signature with that thing aint gonna be written in one of your own kind. He's not gonna care about your name or story either. He doesn't want to give you a special memory, have a 'I'm never gonna forget this' conversation with you, nothing. He's just gonna show me how you react to getting fucked and we're gonna make a tape you never get to see, and a whole bunch of us are going to analyse your first time and probably not even get hot for it. Then if we see something we like, we might think about making the tiniest part of your dream come true. You thinking hard yet, boy?'

'I don't need to, sir. I meant what I said. Anything to get my name.'

'You got grit, kid. I'll give you that much. Alright, strip off, let's make sure the rest of you aint gonna be a snep scarer.' Stay in character. Don't react to Sandy's smile. 'Show me what you've got, boy.' That changed it. Sandy almost reverted back, but held his cool, sliding his surfing clothes off.

'Don't just dump 'em on the floor like that, kid. Your momma never teach you housekeeping? Let's see you fold 'em up nice and neat while I get a look.' Trick walked around him, took the tip of his tail and lifted. 'Yeah, good tail length, nice ass, strong back. Touch your toes, kid.' He kept hold of Sandy's tail as he bent over. 'Okay, up straight. Turn your head. That's nice. You do that pose well.' He let his tail go. 'Strike another one for me. Tell me you want some.'

Damn, Trick thought, as Sandy bettered the pose he'd seen an hour ago on his doorstep. This lonely otter with a troubled past might just be the Sandy he really wants to be if he can pull this off. Too bad I'm not a producer yet. Let's hope he gets one a little nicer than the one I'm trying to play.

'Now I want you to pass one last test. You listening?'

'Yes sir.'

'I want you to close your eyes and think of someone or something that gets you off, and I want you to get hard without touching your dick. Then you're gonna tell me when you're as hard as you can be and I'm gonna just have a little measure of your inches. Okay with that?'

No talk, no nodding, Sandy was okay with it alright. He slowly put his hands behind his head as he boner took shape, and soon he was fully hard, breathing deep and relaxed. It took him less than a minute.

'Not bad, kid. Not bad at all. Am I measuring yet? Coz if you start leaking it's game over.'

'One moment, sir.' He took another breath, his erection not appearing any larger his pose became more relaxed. 'Okay, all yours.'

Trick gently but firmly took hold of Sandy's cock and traced his finger up the side of it, right to his tip. He had to guess, but hell, nobody would need to bother measuring this. It had to be a good seven inches by anyone's guess. It was probably better than his own.

'Alright kid, back tomorrow morning, 9AM. You wanna lose it with an otter first? Be my guest. You've got...' he looked at his watch. 'Sixteen hours to do it. Just be sober. No booze, no drugs, and if you've gotta smoke then fine but I want you smelling of mints when you come in. Got it? And shower. You don't turn up clean, your ass is out on the pavement.'

Opening his eyes, standing there looking at his erection and still obviously thinking about whatever he'd been thinking, Sandy looked like he'd had enough, but still looked different to the person who'd walked in.

Trick was caught in that odd moment of silence that ended a scene, and the one where you returned to yourself and stopped being a character, but the character still stayed with you, in a state somewhere between deja-vu and a flashback, and the best thing to do was talk to people normally and get a sense that the real world was real again. 'How was that?'

'Damn, Trick. When's your Oscar nomination co...oh. Okay. I need to sit down. Massive adrenaline dump right there. Is this happening?' Sandy sat down quickly. 'Too many deep breaths. Man, I must be tired or something.'

Something, Trick thought, and he'd realised what. Sandy hadn't been drunk at all when he came in. Perhaps the three shots, like he said, but that hadn't brought out drunkenness. Trick sat down. 'Did I do that a bit too well?' He held Sandy's hands. 'The shakes'll stop. Promise. It was just a scene. You need me to be an anchor for a minute that's fine.'

'An anchor? This isn't weed paranoia, it's....woah that was good. And hot. Even if I never go to the real thing, can we do that again sometime?'

Maybe, Trick thought. But it's going to take a lot before I can touch you without feeling like I'm taking advantage of someone vulnerable. 'You really want my advice? Maybe you should cancel the first audition. Call in sick and wait a few weeks. I can coach you. How about I set one up for myself, scout the place a bit, see what tips I can pick up.'

'Would you take the job if you got it?'

'I dunno, maybe.' Trick moved himself a little closer. 'Sandy, can I ask you a sort of personal question?'

'Sure, as long as it's not about back home or my name.'

'Nah, it's not. I promised on all that. But I want you to be honest. When was the last time you ate something?'

Sandy looked at him as if he'd just gone more personal than anything from their pretend interview, and Trick knew he was right. He hadn't wanted to be, but Sandy closed his eyes again and sunk back on the sofa.

'Fuck,' he said. 'Is it that obvious?'

'Until you nearly fainted, no. It wasn't. What happened? One extreme to another? You just kept cutting calories and feeling good, and before you realised it you got to zero and kept it there?'

'I_do_ eat,' Sandy said. 'I'd be dead already if I didn't. It's like hearing a voice, Trick. I wake up every day and it tells me I can't go back to being the otter who got stuck in the pipe. It's gotten worse since I landed the audition. That was two weeks ago. I never answered your question. Breakfast. I ate two peaches at breakfast. And I drank three shots after work. And your coffee.'

Christ, Trick thought, looking at the clock as it moved to 2:30. 'Wait right here.' He went out of the kitchen and opened the fridge, hunting for inspiration, telling himself not to panic and just think. What was the right thing to give someone in this situation? If you knew that, you'd be going to medical school and not playing dumb acting games with a guy you just offered a place to live. On the night you met him. On the top shelf, there was a box of Krispy Kreme's.

'Fuck it,' Trick muttered, taking them out. He quickly poured another coffee, this time black without the sugar. Sandy was half asleep already. Trick choose the donut that looked just slightly richer than all the rest and held it under Sandy's nose. It gave a pleasurable twitch. He moved it so Sandy's jaw rose up a little in a dog-like beg. 'Mmmm,' he said.

'Wake up, silly otter. You need to eat this.'

Sandy opened his eyes. 'Oh hell no!'

'Come on. Let old you back in, just for tonight.'

'Trick, this is like giving someone who just quit a forty a day smoking habit a pack of Luckys and sayi...' Sandy's tongue touched the edge of the donut, then he licked.

'Open up,' Trick said, and Sandy did. Trick put the donut in his mouth. He took a small bite, then another. 'Slowly,' Trick said.

Sandy swallowed. 'Oh thank God! Peanut butter cream pie...how did you know it's my favourite?' He took the rest of it from Trick, ate it quickly, drank some coffee down, his eyes revitalised with energy less than a minute later. 'I needed that more than anything else in the world right now. You know how long it's been since I let myself do that? A year. I've been on the road a year, and I'm so tired.'

Does he even know where he is right now? Trick thought, looking at Sandy's tranced face. Never mind. 'No kidding. You need another one. Stawberries and cream?'

'I can't.' He was already taking it, smelling it, then biting it in two covering his chin in jam and cream. 'You're Satan,' Sandy said. 'You're gonna wake up tomorrow to find me puking in your toilet and that box is going to be empty.'

'No it's not.' Trick didn't doubt it though. I had to get him to eat something. This was the best I could do. But I'm still an idiot. Okay, do something. 'We're going to get you healthy. First step to dealing with those interview nerves. You want to make love in front of a camera for a living? Great. But a good relationship with sex starts with a good relationship with yourself. We've got to get your good relationship with food back first. Before you lose those looks you just showed off to me and become an otter shaped skeleton. Nobody's going to hire that. But this, right in front of me? This is a good looking otter. You deserve to stay that way. Say it to me.'

Sandy smiled. 'What is this now, you're playing a coach for me?'

'Say it.'

'I deserve to stay this way.'

'Like you mean it.'

'I deserve to stay this way!'

'Good. So you're not going into the bathroom and sticking your fingers down your throat. You know why not?'

'Because you just forbid me from doing it?'

'Because you just forbid yourself. Because you said you deserve better than that. So I'm taking these back in the kitchen, you're going to take a nap, and I'm going to see what I can cook. Something healthy, where you can eat as much as you want and barely put on a gram. Can you do that?'

'Yeah. Sure.'

'You won't be grouchy when I wake you up?'

'Nah,' Sandy said, already back to being half asleep with his eyes closed.

Trick rubbed his head. 'Be right back.'

* * *

_What else can tonight possibly bring?_Trick thought, looking through the fridge and cupboards again, thanking himself for all the hours sweating in the kitchen at Argle's Bar as a teenager. What was in that vegan chili thing they used to serve that had always sounded awful until he'd tried it? The fridge had red and yellow peppers. There were some gormet tins of chopped tomatoes. Onions, celery, spices, squash...or was it sweet potato? Trick found both, then just as he was giving up on tinned cannellini beans in the cupboard as big as a wardrobe, there they were. Hot chilli powder, cinnamon, tomato puree...this was going to need a bigger pan. He found one.

He stood in the silence of the kitchen for a moment, looking at everything set out, and thinking about how at Argle's he'd wanted nothing more than just to strip those stupid kitchen porter's coveralls off and just sweat naturally. He took off his dressing gown and draped it over one of the stools, and began cooking, contentedly naked.

Chorizo. That would make this. Forget the vegan thing, his new friend needed a proper otter's diet and that meant meat. Fish would have been better, but none of the smoked packets in the fridge would go with this. Brown rice - a little fiber was good for the digestive system. A good bottle of red wine. Corriander garnish and a little squeeze of lemon mixed into the sauce just before serving.

Still naked, the breeze cooling him as he came back into the front room, he woke Sandy up and put a plate in front of him.

'I'm not feeling so hungry now, Trick. Sorry but I don't think I can eat.'

'Just take a taste.'

Sandy looked at the plate as if it might make him sick, but his mouth was watering so much he could only just contain it. He picked up the fork and tentatively tasted it. He ate the rest in silence, a little too fast, occasionally remembering to breathe, smiling at Trick as if to say he really had learned table manners as a child, but was just caught up in a moment. That moment, Trick thought, was eternal gratitude.

Pity, he thought. If Sandy ever does want sex with me, the selfish otter line will never work coming from him. I'd better never cook dinner for Kia.

Trick had decided water was probably better for Sandy to drink, and that one of the designer bottles of it from the drinks fridge was fine. Sandy had forgotten the glass, gulped straight from the bottle, then said sorry as he started to come down from the food high.

'What_was_ that food, Trick? Whatever it was I want it every meal forever. Did you really make that? You didn't order in?'

'Nope. My mom's recipe. Told you she rocked.'

Sandy was staring at him, like he'd just discovered the meaning of life. 'You're naked.'

'Oh yeah. I got a little hot while cooking. How do I look?'

'Like I wish I did.' Sandy licked his fork clean, then put it down on his empty plate. 'Come on then. How am I saying thanks?'

'You look so tired that if I let you say thanks like that you'll probably fall asleep inside me. Besides, wouldn't you rather have your first time tomorrow when we're nice and fresh?'

'That was part of the act, Trick. I'm not a virgin. I was when I left home. Or rather I left the hospital I got put in after I said no to that asshole. You ever had a brain haemorrhage?'

'Can't say I have.'

'I got a hole drilled in my head. I sometimes wake up still thinking I can feel what it was like. I bet that motherfucker isn't even in prison for doing that to me. I bet Mom and Dad didn't even do anything. Jesus, why am I bringing this up now?' Sandy sighed. 'Alright. Yeah, I've never done it. And nobody else ever made me a dinner like that. I was fat because my parents raised me on crap. I liked it. Now I don't. So are you going to come over here and fuck me or should I just go home?'

Trick sat down next to him. 'You are home, remember? We'll move your stuff out of your other place tomorrow and cancel your rent cheque. And by the way Sandy, how much do you think it costs to change your name by deed poll?'

'I heard it was three hundred bucks.'

'You heard a bunch of crap. It costs fifteen bucks.'

'For real? How did I not know?'

'Because you never asked anyone and didn't have time to look it up?'

'Look it up on what? I've got no phone or internet or anything.'

Trick smiled. 'If you go look in my wallet over there, you'll find the change I told you to keep. We'll go get it sorted tomorrow. Then you can fuck me as Sandy Rickwood and whoever you've left behind can die for good. Or you can not fuck me, because you really don't have to. It's about time I went shopping for a new phone too. Birthday money to burn and everything. You want my old one? Or maybe I'll just spend all that money on you. Forget about what you need, let me buy you some stuff you want.'

'Trick...why the hell would you spend your money on me?'

'I dunno, because seeing someone else happy because of something nice I did might be a better birthday present than anything I was thinking of getting myself?'

Sandy tried to say something, but couldn't get words out. Soon he had his hands over his mouth, tears rolling down his cheeks.

'It's alright,' Trick said, rubbing a hand down his back. 'Everything's going to be good from now on. You'll see.' He stayed with Sandy until he fell asleep on the couch, then went back to his own room and drifted off himself, listening to the waves on the sand.

Thanks Dad, _he thought. _This house wasn't my best ever present, it was what came with it. Even if I ever get to play that producer for real, your present to me was how tonight taught me I'm never going to be you.