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Standard Rules

Alyssa's kick sent the bearded man staggering backwards as she advanced on him. Her hand found his shoulder as he turned to run, dragging him back to face her, slamming him up against a tree. Pinned, trapped with no way out, the man grinned, displaying a number of decayed or missing teeth.

"Sold is such a... final word," he told her, his voice low and grating, the harsh accent of the lowlands thick in every syllable. "Sold implies a change of ownership in exchange for money. Once your goods are gone," he made a gesture as if scattering something on the ground. "They're gone."

"Your goods," Alyssa hissed, feeling the fur on the back of her neck prickle. "Were children. Some not even ten years old!"

"All viable commodities, if you know your market," the man smiled back. "And like any good entrepreneur, I'm bound to get the most out of my available resource."

Alyssa felt a chill run down her spine all the way to the tip of her tail.

"You... rented them? Why? For what?" the hyena's hand bunched up the front of the man's vest, pressing him harder against the rough bark.

"Oh, I don' ask that, missus. See, my clients have a... certain liking for their privacy. Don't take too kindly to questions about the whys and the wherefores of what they hire and what use they might put it to." The man chuckled harshly, one dirty hand lifting to brush black hair off his oily forehead. "Long as they return my goods in one piece, well that's enough for me. Keeps my business running."

"You son of a-"

"Alyssa!"

Both hands around the man's neck, the hyena hesitated, looking over her shoulder. Small, slender, and dressed in her typical plain cleric's robes, the vixen stood behind her, blue eyes wide and earnest, the only colour in her snowy white face. She shook her head slightly.

"Riv, I told you to stay out of the fight!"

"The fight's over, Alyssa," River said softly, her voice gentle and calming. Behind her, Alyssa could see Amethyst, the lioness' remarkably - and quite unintentionally - purple hair standing out sharply against the dark woods as she tied the man's two followers together. To one side, Leoric stood at the back of the man's wagon, head bowed in concentration as he worked a small lockpick into the door of the cage upon it. Inside, two small figures clung to the bars, frightened faces imploring.

Breathing hard, Alyssa faced the man once more, studying his slowly purpling face as his hands clutched at her wrists, trying vainly to pry her away.

"You are the lowest form of scum," she growled. "You don't... even deserve a trial."

"Alyssa..."

Hands shaking with righteous fury, Alyssa released her grip and the man bent forwards, coughing and holding his throat. Grabbing the back of his vest she threw him to the ground, binding his wrists behind him.

"But you will get one," she finished. "Bastard that you are, I will see that you stand trial, fairly and justly according to law."

"We should feed them," River said softly, looking over her shoulder to where the trio stumbled behind the wagon. "It's past midday."

"They'll live," Alyssa told her, frowning, not turning her head. To either side, Amethyst and Leoric rode escort. "They can manage on their fat for a while yet. All we have to do is get them to town, then job's done."

River sighed, bowing her white furred head for a moment before turning to the two children in the back of the cart. They nodded silently in response to her question, and she handed them each a portion of bread and an apple. The larger, a dirty-furred but pretty leopard, gave the vixen a small smile before putting her arm around her smaller companion, encouraging the young otter to eat.

Regarding the three behind the cart, watching the weasel coughing in the dust, River laid her hand on Alyssa's arm. "Water at least," she said softly.

For a moment, the hyena almost told her where she could stick her flask, but held it back. The vixen was probably right.

"Oi oi, couldn't get enough of me?" the black haired man leered as Alyssa approached. She ignored him, instead taking the water flask to the weasel furthest down the rope. "Knew you'd be along with refreshments," the man continued, addressing her back. "Always trust a ranger to look after folks."

Alyssa kept her eyes on the weasel, holding the metal cup to his mouth so he could gulp down a drink. Battered and tired, hands tied behind him, he looked up at with loathing despite the small kindness - but he contained his anger, accepting that here and now, he had no power, nor any right to make demands.

Next along the rope, a cougar. Taller than the others, he would almost have looked Alyssa in the eye, if he had ever turned his face to her. Instead his gaze flickered between ground, sky, and the black haired man, seemingly unwilling or unable to act without a prompt - or perhaps remorseful and ashamed. He drank with his eyes closed.

"Lovely girl you've got with you."

Alyssa stopped, slowly lowering the empty cup before placing it on top of the flask, deliberately turning back towards the wagon.

"How old is she? Fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Nineteen, and you'll not so much as look at her," Alyssa growled, gaze fixing upon the man's face.

"Or you'll what?" he taunted. "You ain't got it in you to carry out a threat. You'll deliver me nice and proper to the authorities, alive and unhurt. You're a mageranger. That's what you do."

Alyssa walked slowly up to him, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes," she told him quietly. "I am a mageranger. And you're right; that is what magerangers do." Without warning, she slammed her fist into the man's stomach, doubling him over. "But I'm not a very good one, and I have no interest in preserving the rights of filth like you. I'm as happy to drag your cold body along the road as I am your warm one. You're unhurt because the 'girl,' is kinder of heart than I am. I suggest you remember that."

Smiling at the back of the man's head as he stooped over, spitting into the dust of the road, Alyssa turned and retreated to the front of the wagon, climbing back into the driver's seat.

"You didn't have to do that!" River hissed at her.

"He deserves worse," Alyssa replied quietly. "You know what he did to these girls."

"Of course I know," the vixen's voice was a tight whisper. "I know how powerless men like him make you. How they take away your pride, make you believe you have no value, that all the pain and humiliation they put upon you is your fault, that you deserve it, that it's justified and fair. But you do not need to lower yourself to his level. You're better than he is!"

Looking away, finding herself unable to meet the vixen's gaze, Alyssa flicked the reins, urging the horses into motion.

"Thank you, ma'am," the uniformed police officer saluted sharply as Alyssa handed over a written report. "I'll make sure they're processed properly."

Alyssa eyed him for a moment. "If they walk away..." she began, a hint of threat in her voice.

Laughing grimly, the officer shook his head, tucking the parchment into a rack behind his desk. "No chance, ma'am. Half my men here know someone who's lost a kid recently. Soon as word gets around, these poor bastards," he eyed the holding cell at the end of the room, and the haggard trio within it, "Will be lucky if they walk anywhere again, let alone as free men."

Crossing her arms, Alyssa leaned back against the wall and sighed. "Will you take some friendly advice, sergeant?"

"I'll listen," the officer nodded.

"Make up a crime for them. You walk in here tomorrow and find them dead in that cell, you'll feel no better for it. Make sure they go to trial, fairly, lawfully."

"They deserve..."

"I know what they deserve," Alyssa hissed through her teeth. "They're evil sons of bitches who never once showed mercy and shouldn't be entitled to any - but if someone takes the law into their own hands, vengeance or no, all they've done is make themselves a murderer. Your men don't need that hanging over them. Let them see these filth walk out of their trial with life sentences to hard labour, or worse. Let the law do its job."

Eyebrows drawing together, the sergeant looked at her. Thoughtfully, he pulled a pair of spectacles from his desk drawer, polishing them on a handkerchief for a few moments.

"Bank robbers," he stated quietly. "Hijacked a convoy out near Silverveil, until your team got them. That suit?"

"You're a good man, sergeant."

"Aye, well, it's not easy being one."

"No," Alyssa shook her head. "It's not. Fortunately people keep reminding me where the line is. Good evening to you."

"Good evening, ma'am."

"What, no goodbye kiss?"

Alyssa didn't turn to look over her shoulder as the bearded man shouted through the high, barred window that overlooked the backstreet.

"Stupid bitch, you're not gonna leave it like this. You really think I can run this business with only these two tosspots?"

The regular tap of Alyssa's boot heels paused, but she didn't spare a glance behind.

"What was it your nice friend the sergeant said."

Half my men here know someone who's lost a kid recently.

Aww shit.

"You'll be back visiting me in no time! Soon as you work out I'm just a little fish!"

Effing bastard had a point, and she was going to have to follow it up.

But not tonight. She was tired, her team was tired, and there were two young and frightened girls who had yet to be handed over to someone who could take care of them. Squaring her shoulders, the hyena continued on her way.

They dropped the girls off at the temple of the New Church. It often amused Alyssa how the clerics' usually severe expressions, trained to make the onlooker feel sinful and unworthy, could soften in the face of genuine need for their help. River too, shone particularly brightly, her gentle voice calming as she took one small hand in each of hers and led the girls up the steps, reassuring them softly all the way.

"She's going to be ages, isn't she," Alyssa said, more of a statement than a question.

"Yep," Leoric nodded, stretching his slender feline arms over his head, the bow on his shoulder sliding round awkwardly. Catching sight of Amethyst yawning from the far side of the wagon, he continued. "Head for the inn, if you like, I'll wait and walk her back."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, it's only a few streets away after all," the cheetah smiled. "And I like the temple gardens."

Amethyst laughed gently. "Oddball." He smiled and shrugged an acknowledgement. "Thank you."

"All right," Alyssa nodded. "Thanks, Leo, good job today." Urging the horses into motion, she turned to the lioness riding beside them as she stifled another yawn.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted," Amethyst admitted, running a hand through her thick mane of purple hair.

"Well, I'll get the horses stabled, you head for your room soon as we're there."

"That's not fair on you..."

"You did well today. You deserve some rest," Alyssa told her, intentionally not mentioning the parting words of the bearded man. At least the rest of her team could have one good night's sleep.

"No more than anyone else," the lioness protested, yawning again at what looked like a near ninety degree gape before slumping defeatedly in her saddle. "But ok. How about I bring breakfast up to you tomorrow as payment?"

"Deal," Alyssa smiled.

It didn't take too long to sort out the horses, the inn's stableboy, a scruffy but bright looking lad, being quite happy to accept the responsibility of unbridling them in exchange for a small tip.

Standing in the street, glancing up at the evening sky between the buildings, she took a deep breath of the cooling air. Big towns always smelled the same. None of the freshness of the countryside, just faint hints of coal fires, wet stone and discarded food. Oh well, at least here one could sleep at night without setting a watch. It was nice, sometimes, to be able to lower one's guard, not be on constant alert. Thinking of which... Alyssa could hear soft strains of jaunty music floating through the crack under the door. Firelight from inside the inn's street-facing entrance suggested warmth, and the presence of a good strong ale. Tomorrow, yes, she would return to speak to the bearded man they had arrested. But that was tomorrow, and tonight was now, and now was the time to go let her guard down a little.

"Well now," the voice chucked in her ear. "Look who the cat dragged in. Running home already?"

For a moment, the unexpected audacity of the comment caused Alyssa to hesitate, standing at the bar, gaze focussed somewhere under the surface of her tankard of ale. When she did look up, it was to find the newcomer's own eyes focussed on the barman as he ordered a drink of his own. Not quite as tall as Alyssa, but close, he had a tight, muscular build, a confidently relaxed stance, and an amused smile plastered the length of his vulpine muzzle.

"Stoutwood," he said, nodding to the middle distance, still not looking at her directly.

"Huh," Alyssa returned her attention to her drink with exaggerated nonchalance. "Foxglove. Should have known I'd find you in a tavern. What are you doing lowering the tone of this nice town?"

"Might ask the same," the fox twitched an eyebrow.

"I asked first."

He smiled thinly. "I'm senior ranger here."

"Only in years," Alyssa snorted.

"Counts," he said, tossing a copper piece to the barman as a tankard was pushed his way. "Least until I get promoted over you. Then you'll call me sir."

"Like to see you try and order me," Alyssa smirked, pointing at a bottle behind the bar and waving a silver coin at the bar tender.

"Still sweet tempered and cooperative I see. We should talk."

Alyssa looked at him, then picked up the bottle from the bar. "Yes," she nodded. "You have a room here?"

"I do."

"Lead the way."

He took a candle as they left the room, and she followed him up two flights of stairs in silence, swigging once or twice from the bottle in her hand. Handing her his tankard he dug in a pocket for his key, opening the door for them. The window in the far wall looked out past the edge of town onto open fields and hills, rapidly darkening under the evening sky. A single, aged tree cast moving shadows against the diamond cut glass.

Closing the door behind her with a foot, she watched him unbuckle his sword belt and lean the weapon against the foot of the bed, stooping to loosen his boot laces.

"Standard rules?" he asked.

"Of course," she nodded, taking another drink from the bottle and then setting it and his tankard atop the chest of drawers by the door as he advanced on her.

The kiss was rough, primal, his hands on her flanks as hers locked behind his head, pulling him to her even as he pressed her back against the wooden door. Eyes open, they favoured each other with fierce expressions even as their tongues fought for territory.

"Wish you'd drink something that tasted better," he grumbled, his nose brushing hers as his fingers found the buckles on her light leather armour.

"Drink some yourself," she told him, her lips brushing his, "then you'll stop caring."

"No thanks, I like my head alive in the morning, not drowned in that gutrot."

"Wimp," she raised her arms over her head and allowed him to pull her chest guard over her head.

"Drunkard." He pressed his lips to hers again, his hands roughly covering her chest through her cotton under-shirt. She growled into the kiss, kneading at his flanks as he squeezed her breasts - not too hard, but none too gently either. Just how she wanted him to. She undid the buttons between his hands as he lowered his muzzle to her neck, nipping at her lightly with his teeth, just hard enough for her to feel the points.

"Jerk," she told him as he pulled her shirt down off her shoulders, briefly binding both her arms to her sides. Winking at her, right hand running across her stomach, sliding downwards, palm against her fur, fingers delving under her belt until he could cup her roughly between her legs.

"Whore."

"Screw you!"

"Soon," he whispered, his lips pressing against hers. She grunted into the kiss as he bent one finger, pushing up into her not-quite-ready body, the half-uncomfortable, half-pleasant distraction giving his tongue the advantage, claiming her mouth as his territory. Pulling at her shirt with his free hand, he tugged it down until she could shake free of the garment, immediately forcing a hand behind his belt. He faltered as her hands found his crotch, cupping him in return, her fingers tense and rigid, a wicked gleam appearing in her eye.

"Bitch."

"Luckily not," she snorted, relaxing her hand, drawing it upwards, rubbing firmly at the warm, furry sheath a little above her initial target. "Else you'd have been singing for the choir years ago. Prick," she added, tugging at his belt as he kicked off his boots.

"Wench," he retorted, free hand rubbing over her now exposed breasts, fingertips lightly tugging at her warm brown nipples until they stood up firm under the attention.

"Fop," she shoved on his pants, and they slipped down his legs to hit the floor with a thud. She wondered what he had in his pockets.

"Hussy," his nose pressed into the crook of her neck as both her hands made their way between his legs, cupping, caressing, rubbing until his arousal stood firmly to attention.

"Dick."

"If you insist," he grinned, stepping backwards, his grip between her legs compelling her to move with him until they stood beside the bed. Moving behind her, ducking under her arm, he nuzzled the back of her neck for a moment, free arm around her waist, pressing his hardness against her bottom even as he pushed his finger a little deeper inside her. "Floozy."

"Jackass," she hissed through clenched teeth, and he laughed. With one quick movement, he had withdrawn from her, grabbed her pants and pulled them half way to her knees. Thus constrained, and with the bed directly in front of her, it only took a light push to send her over onto her hands, her rear bared to him, her tail arching over her back.

"Tramp." His fingers found her warm petals again, pushing inwards, pressing firmly against her insides right where he knew it would make her squirm, smiling as her legs trembled.

"Just get on with it, you effing wuss!"

"Well, since you ask so nicely..." the vulpine smiled, withdrawing his fingers, walking them up her bottom and into the small of her back to distract her as he lined himself up.

She swore harshly as his hips met her bottom, the whole of his arousal buried firmly inside her. For a few moments, she stood there, hands pressed into the mattress, eyes closed, shaking with the sudden swell of feelings as he petted her gently, stroking her fur.

"Damn, you're a big bastard..." she muttered, opening her eyes as the initial intensity faded, her body adjusting to his presence. He couldn't help smiling. It was probably an exaggeration, but it was nice of her to say it anyway. Patting her bottom, he leaned over her, wrapping one arm around her, hunching his hips to push that little bit deeper, feeling his tip come to rest against her cervix.

"Fag," she growled over her shoulder at him, reaching back to run her fingers across his furry hip, trying to pull him harder against her.

"Dyke," he chuckled.

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"Just shut up and do it, ass."

"What's the magic word?" he asked, grinning.

"I hate you."

"Mmm, I hate you too," he told her, nuzzling the back of her neck, making her laugh at the tickly touch.

He took her steadily, at his own pace, giving every impression of only seeking his own pleasure while at the same time rising lightly onto the balls of his feet so as to angle his length to press hard against the front of her tunnel on every movement, regularly bumping against sensitive areas. Breath huffing between gritted teeth, Alyssa pushed back to meet each of his movements, revelling in the sensation of his body moving within hers.

His arm around her, his hand almost accidentally covering her breasts, petting, kneading, keeping her nipples hard, her chest tingling. When those fingers slid down her body, she couldn't suppress a shiver, booted feet shuffling across the floor, legs held together by her pants around her knees. That first, soft touch at the top of her entrance almost made her scream, her hips hunching downwards to meet the contact.

He kept his fingers almost out of reach, forcing her to rock her hips against him, only ever able to either take his shaft deeply inside her, or to grind against his fingers, but never both, leaving her bouncing awkwardly between two sources of pleasure.

The bedsheets wound around her hands as she felt the tension rise inside. Come on, surely he had to be getting close?

She could hear his breathing becoming heavier, less even. Come on, damn you, finish!

Within her boots, her toes curled up tight. Oh gods...

"Fuck!"

Lights bursting across the back of her eyelids, she felt his arms around her, hugging her, steadying her until the only thing left in the world was the rush of climax.

"Dammit..." Panting, propped up on her arms, Alyssa hung her head, shivering as small aftershocks ran through her. "All right... you win..." she admitted. "You're an arsehole, Jay. What do you want?"

The fox chuckled, nuzzling her cheek as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. To her surprise, he withdrew, patting her bottom gently, kneeling behind her to loosen her boots, helping her out of them before pulling her pants all the way off. They stood together, and he slipped his arms around her waist, petting her stomach as she caught her breath.

"On your back," he murmured, his chin on her shoulder, and she nodded, moving onto the bed. Stripping his vest and bracers he followed her, his naked body crawling over her, his lips finding her own. She didn't fight his kiss, allowing him to take the lead. Rules were rules.

Jay hunched into her hands as she reached underneath him, holding onto his length.

"Easy..."

"Close, was it?"

"Maybe."

"Bastard."

"Tart."

She helped guide him as he moved, lifting her knees, hugging his waist with her thighs as he entered her again, his body settling down on top of hers until their hips pressed together. His hands found hers, fingers lacing together.

"Dammit... uh, in or out?" he asked, a note of urgency in his voice.

Alyssa laughed. "Really was close. I'll get you next time. In."

He nodded, nose falling to rest on the pillow beside the corner of her jaw. Rocking her hips up to meet his, Alyssa brought her legs up, crossing her ankles over his bottom, pulling him into her, stretching her arms out to the sides, his hands gripping hers, forcing him to lie flat on her chest.

For a moment, Jay's breath caught in his throat, nose pressing into the hyena's fur, rushing out a moment later as the glorious sensations of their coupling reached a peak. Over the rush in his head, he felt her legs hugging him closer, the tight grip of her fingers on his as surge after surge of pleasure ran through him.

"I hate you," she reminded him, kissing his cheek.

"I hate you too," he agreed breathlessly. "And I really hate... how hot you are when you're on your back."

Alyssa laughed. "Typical male, always want to be in control."

"Typical female, doesn't know what's good for her."

Freeing one hand, she jabbed him in the ribs, making him yelp.

"Knob."

"Cow."

Alyssa paused. "I heard about Conny," she said, lowering her voice. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, so am I," Jay nodded, resting his cheek against hers and sighing. She hugged him.

"What are you going to do?"

"What did I do, you mean, and I did what she asked - I found someone with the same background and gave them a chance."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope."

"You went to a..."

"Brothel, yes," he cleared his throat, embarrassed. "And I found a pair of strong candidates for training. They're back at HQ now for assessment."

"Two!"

"It's complicated," the vulpine sighed again. "I got sent away on R and R for two weeks. Was gonna spend a day here, pick up some clothes and equipment, then head out of town, somewhere quiet with a lake. Maybe fishing. Anyway," he went on, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at her. "What are you doing in town?"

"Long story short, we got word of some bad business going on while we were out past Oakdale."

"Quite a way to come back here," Jay raised an eyebrow as he rolled to one side, settling his head onto the pillow as she turned over to look at him.

"Yeah, bastards led us a good chase, like they were on some sort of patrol route. Might even have been coming back here on their own. Kept on moving, stayed places just long enough for business, then moved on again."

"What's the business?"

Grimly, Alyssa looked back at him. "They were hiring out children."

Jay's eyebrows drew together. "For?"

"Things no child should ever have to do."

Jay's fists clenched.

"Yeah," Alyssa nodded.

"But you got them?"

"We did. They're in the jail awaiting trial. But..."

"But?"

Sighing, Alyssa shook her head. "I think that - uh, could you pass me that towel? You're a messy sod," she told him, wadding it between her legs and almost blushing. "I think that there's more. The leader of the men we brought in... I get the feeling he wants to make a deal. Information for favours, I'm guessing."

"Oh crap... last night when I got here, I kinda walked in on two guys dragging a little girl into an ally. Lucky timing really, they ran for it, I got the girl home safe, but since then I've heard a few things..."

"Kids going missing?"

Jay swallowed. "Yeah."

"Dammit. This is going to be big, isn't it?"

"Could be," he winched.

"Aww dammit. Why can't it ever be just catch the bad guys, down a drink, get laid, and have a good night's sleep?"

The fox smiled sadly. "Because there's always another bad guy."

"Ok, well, why do they have to be such utter and complete arseholes? Why can't it be a nice 'your money or your life?' set of bandits? The kind who believe in honour among thieves. Why does it have to be freaks and perverts?"

"I think word got round that some over eager mageranger went on a bit of a rampage against the local bandits, reckon that scared them out of it..."

"That's not even funny, Jay."

"Sorry." He sighed. "I don't know, really. This whole thing worries me. We've got disappearance reports, but none of the missing have turned up."

"Except the two we found."

"Yes. So where are they going? This... this has organisation. There's a plan to it. I think we need to take this back to HQ."

"Maybe," Alyssa murmured. "I want to talk to that arsehole again though. He knows something, I'll get him to talk."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"And tonight?"

"My team's resting. They worked hard for the catch, I intend to let them feel good for at least one night."

"Good choice. You should rest up too..."

"I can rest after."

"After what? Oh," a rather goofy grin spread across the fox's muzzle as he felt Alyssa's fingers brush between his legs. Reaching out, he let his hand rest on her cheek. "Need a few more minutes, I think," he admitted sheepishly.

"I can wait," she smiled, moving closer to him, pulling him into a tight hug, tucking her thigh between his legs to rub against him. "You old git."

Jay laughed. "Neither of us are eighteen anymore, grandma."

"Eh, you were dumber back then anyway. Least you've finally toughened up and learned a few decent insults."

"Well, I had the best teacher in the rangers."

"What, old Inwyn?"

"Don't laugh," he admonished gently. "It's involuntary, he can't help that."

"Yeah, I know, it's not - fu-you! - funny," Alyssa said, her face expressionless as she imitated the old man's random outbursts flawlessly.

Laughing, Jay kissed her, more softly than before, his hands caressing her chest as hers fell to below his navel. She knew his pleasure spots well, and it didn't take long before a significant amount of pink skin showed above his furry sheath. Breaking the kiss, she slid down the bed, her hands on his hips.

"Come on then, you lazy bum," she said, addressing his manhood directly, her lips lightly brushing the pink skin. There weren't many males to whom she would take her tongue after they had been inside her - there was always that faint taste of herself that, while not unpleasant, just didn't seem right to her - but, this was Jay Foxglove. Sometimes even personal rules needed to be bent for an old friend.

It was twenty two years ago that they had first met, pure chance seeing both of them standing at the front gate of the magerangers' HQ on the same rainy day. He slightly skinny, with an oversized travel bag he could hardly lift, she wiry of build and with naught to her name but her clothes and a toothbrush. He told her who he was, and that he was ten and three quarters. She had laughed, and called him old. She was ten and one quarter. He punched her in the shoulder; she punched him back harder. They shook hands.

With the same age and experience, they had trained together often. Sparring and cooperating, learning about the world, about the history of the magerangers, they were taught that they had been chosen and brought here not because of natural fighting talent or intelligence - although she swung a mean right hook and he regularly beat his instructor at chess - but rather because they had displayed the ability to manipulate the magus lumen, the magical ether, the hidden strength behind the words that the magi of ancient times had learned to harness. It was a rare talent, but a powerful one, a talent that would allow great strength or speed, the guidance of an arrow in flight, the detection of things unseen to unaided eyes, the distraction of foes, the turning of a blade with just the palm of a hand, and feats of power as yet undiscovered.

The partnership trials were the most arduous, separated from their mentors, with no tools or aid but each other, once a year they were dumped into the wilderness and expected to reach a certain location, having met some challenging goal along the way, without crippling injury or death along the way. They were harsh tests, but as much of mettle as of ability; the option was always there to send up a distress flare and receive aid; at the cost of failing.

They never sent up a flare, not even when a combination of flash flood and the unexpected presence of a mountain troll had set them both to panicked flight - until they could rally, plan, and eventually slay the creature.

And it had been there, on the banks of the swollen river in the middle of nowhere that they had given themselves to each other - although neither would admit until later that it had been their first time. It wasn't something they were particularly proud of, for they had been a little too caught up in the moment, and a little too young to be respectable. And yet neither of them really regretted it. Alyssa knew that many girls who took a male at such an age wished they hadn't, but try as she might she couldn't find a good reason to lament what had happened. It hadn't been graceful, or perfect, or even very long lasting, and certainly not the romantic encounter that a girl might dream about... but he was her best friend, they had passed their trials that day, and in the process saved each others' lives. They knew now that whenever they were in trouble, they would always have someone to turn to, someone who would stop at nothing to look after them.

The funny thing was, she never fell for him, nor him for her. There was genuinely nothing they wouldn't have done for each other, yet somehow it never occurred to either of them to pair up, declare a steady thing and settle down. That wasn't why they joined the magerangers. It wasn't their ambition, wasn't part of the plan, and it wasn't necessary. It was an unspoken understanding that, in testament to their friendship, never once needed to be voiced.

And yet, here she was, sixteen years later, with his penis in her mouth.

The thought made her laugh, and she had to pull away, leaving him looking down at her questioningly.

"Sorry," she smiled up at him. "I was just wondering how that skinny little boy turned into a grizzled old veteran."

"Grizzled!" he laughed. He tugged her upwards with a hand under her arm until their noses touched. "I'd accept... experienced. Travelled. Seasoned, even, but grizzled?"

"Grizzled," she nodded, hooking her leg over his, pulling him towards her until his erection pressed against her stomach.

"Do you even know what that means?" he chucked.

"Not really, I just thought it would annoy you," she laughed, her lips brushing his as her hands found his shaft, pushing him down, dragging the tip through her fur until it found smooth, warm skin.

"Harpy."

"Twot," she sighed, pulling herself against his chest as he filled her once more. Silencing her with a kiss, he rolled them until he was looking down at her.

"What is it with you and being on top?"

"I just like making you be on the bottom," he grinned, and she slapped his flank.

"Pig."

"Witch."

Leaning back, kneeling, he lifted her legs until they rested over his shoulders, somehow managing to remain within her all the way. Hands running over her furry stomach, feeling the toned muscles underneath, he smiled down at her. She sighed as he moved up to caress her breasts, her hips shifting on the bed under him, her body squeezing down around him every time he found a particularly sensitive spot.

They moved together more slowly this time, without the urgent haste of before, each taking the time to truly enjoy the other and ensure that they in turn were enjoyed. She held onto his hands as he nuzzled and kissed at her legs, rubbed his flanks as he leaned forwards to press his lips to hers, giggled as he traced the light stripes in her fur with his fingertips.

"Turn over," he told her softly, his lips brushing her neck as he kissed her fur.

"Swine."

"Harlot."

He raised himself enough to give her room, his hands finding her bottom as she lay face down on the bed, her legs stretched out to either side of his. Tugging lightly at the base of her tail got a visible shiver out of her and he chuckled. "For someone who says she doesn't take it this way," he told her, allowing his thumb to wander just under where that fluffy appendage met her back, a light little contact that made her tremble noticeably. "You sure do seem to like it."

"Don't you dare..." she growled into the pillow, and he chuckled.

"Standard rules," he reminded her.

"If you do then next time I win I will bend your sorry ass over my knee, belt it raw then return the favour."

He leaned down against her back, his weight pressing her into the soft mattress, his erection hot against her bottom. "Almost worth it," he admitted. "Maybe another day." She felt him shift, almost purred in satisfaction as she felt his tip at her entrance again.

"Ponce."

"Bint."

They moved together just a little more urgently now, her breasts pressed into the mattress, her hips rising to meet his, his lips on the back of her neck, at her cheek as she turned her head.

"Douche."

"Drab."

His left hand found hers, fingers lacing together as his right pushed under her body, fingertips finding the top of her entrance, not teasingly like last time, but firmly, rubbing, tugging, hurrying her pleasure along. His warm breath huffed over her cheek. She bit the pillow between her teeth. Gods, she could feel it coming, the tension growing inside her, the building need for release.

"Poofter!"

"Slag," he growled. She felt so warm around him, her body so lean and hard to the touch, so soft from the inside. He gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to last much longer.

"Loser."

"Nymph."

"Mmm... arsehead."

"Unf... troll," there was no turning back now, he knew he was already committed, the growing pressure inside him at a critical point. Nipping at her shoulder with his teeth he drove his hips forwards.

"F-aahh!" whatever else Alyssa had to say vanished as the growing tide of pleasure inside her crested. Muscles locked, her whole body tensed, her senses focussed down to twin pinpoints inside herself and under Jay's fingertips. For just a moment, total clarity reigned, she understood what it was to be a goddess, to know the future with utter certainty. No force in the universe could prevent the explosion of pleasure, and with the next beat of her hammering heart, it consumed her.

He felt her tense under him, her hips pushing up with jarring force, taking him as deep as possible before they passed over the edge together, fingers interlocked, bodies united as he soaked her insides with his pleasure. Five, six, seven, his heartbeat seemed to synchronise with each surge until he was gasping for breath, flat out on her back and completely immobile. He felt her slick skin twitch against his fingers and smiled.

"I hate you," she sighed, her voice a breathless whisper.

"I hate you more," he chuckled, kissing her shoulder.

"We really... need to meet up... more often," she panted softly into the pillow. "To talk about work... you know."

"Yeah. We do. Heffer."

"Scrub."

"Slut."

"Dork."