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"And, with a last look at the weather, let's go back to Fib," said the co-anchor, a gregarious Jersey cow. She looked off-camera and batted her doe-like eyes.

"Thanks, Opal," the male harvest mouse said. The view switched to him. He flashed a winning, bucktoothed smile. Not just because it was expected, but because his mate was in studio. The five-foot rodent seemed to stand a few inches taller. He could see her in the shadows but resisted the urge to acknowledge her.

Meadow's ears blushed, turning a deeper shade of rose. She felt like a distraction. He'd insisted she wasn't, but that didn't stop her from worrying about it.

It was the first Friday in August, in the middle of summer. With a day off from secretarial work at the dentist's office, she'd spent last night at Fib's place and accompanied him to the station this morning.

Fib was a weatherman for an Indianapolis TV network. Morning drive time and noon broadcasts. He had full confidence he'd get promoted to one of the 'prime time' slots eventually. Or maybe even hired away by another station.

There's a lot of turnover in the local news industry. He let me know that when we met.

In between his segments, she'd lounged in his office, playing with her phone, watching the television on the wall, and almost falling asleep once or twice. When he finished, they were going to find a place to eat before heading to her house for the weekend.

"Heat advisory remains in effect for today, and tomorrow? Saturday? It's going to be even worse!" Fib exclaimed, gesturing at a blank, colored screen. On the TV monitors, it appeared full of sleek, informative graphics.

"Saturday, temperatures will soar into the mid-90's. Near-record territory! The current mark was set back in 2012, at 97. But high humidity is the killer, here. It's going to get muggly." He giggled at his own joke. "So, especially for those which thick pelts, remember to drink plenty of water and take breaks as needed. No one thinks they're vulnerable to heat stroke until it's too late." _ _

As he went on, Meadow became more absorbed in the forecast. He was using every ounce of his inherent mousey cuteness to his advantage, brightly mugging for the camera, speaking in easy, squeaky tones. He was like the boy next door. Trustworthy. Reliable. Cute in an obtainable way. _ _

I bet the whole audience wants to-

"For Sunday, clear skies becoming partly cloudy by afternoon. The next chance for rain is Monday, when a frontal system will push through." He gestured with his arms as the graphics moved. "But, right now, we're only looking at scattered chances there. Probably won't get true relief from the heat until next weekend." He paused and stepped aside, as a daily temperature chart appeared. "Your seven-day outlook: summery, with an extra serving of sun."

"Thanks, Fib," said Opal, taking back the reigns. "I guess the 'dog days' of summer are officially here, aren't they?" The cow looked at her co-anchor, a dapper male coyote, and added, "Can't complain, though. We'll be wishing it was like this in six months."

"No doubt!" the coyote said. "See you at 5-o'clock, everyone."

Theme music played.

"And ... we're off!" the producer said, as the broadcast ended.

The coyote sighed, giving the cow a look. "Dog days? Really? I'm not a goddamn dog."

"It's just a saying," Opal defended. "Who says it was directed at you?"

"You looked right at me!"

"Huh."

"You've been jabbing at me ever since those 'so-called focus groups' graded us last week."

"Well ... " The cow huffed. "They say we don't have 'chemistry'. The hell does that mean? I pair well with everyone!"

"Is that why you've been divorced three times?"

"And they said I'm 'too old' compared to you. I'm not even fifty!"

The thirty-something coyote mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?" The cow glared at him.

"Nothing," he said quickly, loosening his tie. "Don't know what you're fretting about. You've got tenure. You'll be fine."

"But," she drawled, leaning back and puffing her sizable chest out, "if we developed a stronger 'rapport,' maybe my ... I mean our approval ratings would go up. Couldn't hurt. Perception is reality, you know."

He squinted, trying to ignore her breasts. "Are you ... coming onto me?"

"Mm?" was her innocent response.

"I prefer guys ... "

She frowned. "I thought you were bi."

"Well, yes, but-"

"Are you with anyone?"

"Not right-"

"Speaking of fuckable," Opal said, changing the subject. "Look at-"

"Wait. So, you think I'm-"

"Her."

"Who? What?" He looked around. "Where?"

"There," Opal said, nodding to the weather center. "Fib's golden girl."

"Oh. Yeah, I saw," the coyote replied, waving a paw dismissively. "Just what we need around here. Another one of them."

Meadow, big, dishy ears swiveling, heard everything they were saying. She pretended to be oblivious but was unable to tune them out. Her cheeks began to burn beneath her butterscotch fur.

"Mr. Sunshine_scored the best at the station with the focus groups," Opal said, voice tinged with jealously. "He doesn't even have to deliver _real news. He's just there for show."

"Can you imagine prey at the anchor desk, talking about politics and crime? Particularly a mouse?" The coyote laughed. "Who would take them seriously?"

"They'd probably stammer through it," Opal agreed.

Fib, taking off his microphone while chatting with a producer, saw Meadow getting antsy. He ended his conversation and went straight toward her. He flashed that smile of his. "You ready to go, babe? You seem restless."

I'm an open book, aren't I?

"I'm fine. Just all these ... bright lights." Does he know his coworkers talk about him behind his back? "Don't know how you do it." She knew one had to have a certain amount of ego to handle being a public figure. Or, at least, a healthy amount of confidence. She struggled with hers. But Fib was so sure of himself. _ _

"Comes naturally, I guess," he said with a wink, taking one of her pink paws and leading her off the set. They went through the hallways behind it, where the varying offices and meeting rooms were, as well as the editing bay for pre-filmed interviews and features. "Gotta fetch my laptop first, then we'll leave," he promised, pecking her cheek with an airy kiss.

Meadow nodded. As he went into his office, she lingered in the hallway and checked her phone. Her whiskers twitched as she saw several text messages from Petra, her rat friend from work.

Friend? If you never see each other off the clock, can you really be friends? Professional associates, maybe? Work proximity acquaintances? She sighed. Yeah. That sounds antisocial enough for you.

Petra was mostly complaining about paperwork and computer glitches and all the stuff she was leaving for Meadow to take care of on Monday.

'Thanks,' Meadow texted back, hoping the she would detect her dry tone.

She immediately saw a wavy icon on her screen. Seconds later, Petra replied: 'Spending the day with the Fibster?'

'Yes.'

'And the night?'

'Yes ... '

'Don't have too much fun. If you know what I mean!' Wink emoji, eggplant emoji, starry-eyed emoji.

Oh, my gosh!

Meadow, trying to play it cool, texted back, 'I'll try not to.'

Side-eye smirk emoji.

Meadow tried not to smile. She failed.

'You're welcome, by the way.'

'For what?' the mouse asked.

'I basically set you two up!'

'Do you want a prize?'

'What are you offering?' the rat asked.

'Just because you were there when I met him doesn't mean you get credit for our relationship.'

'When you get married, I want a shout-out.'

'Who said anything about marriage ... ?'

'How long you two been dating, now? Might as well move in together, at least.'

"Who are you texting?" Fib asked as he emerged from his office.

"No one! Nothing! Hmm?" Meadow stammered, putting her phone back in her purse. Her pulse quickened. Petra's last text had rattled her. Half a year. That's how long we've been dating. It wasn't that long in theory. But in practice? My boyfriends never last this long. This is uncharted territory for me.

"Heh. It's that rat, isn't it? From your work? Don't stop on my account."

"She's just needling me. It's nothing important."

Fib locked his office door and they began to walk toward the elevator. "So, what are you in the mood for?"

_Eggplants ... _

Dammit, Petra!

"Whatever you want," Meadow said.

"I want what _you_want."

She bit her lip. I like that he's accommodating, but I hate making decisions. "Um ... it really doesn't matter ... "

"Don't worry," he assured brightly. "We'll figure something out."

An hour later, having finished some gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches and fruit smoothies, they were walking down a city sidewalk back to the TV station. Fib's car was in the parking garage there.

Meadow felt the hot, steady breeze move her colorful skirt. Her ropy tail, which was fitted through a 'tail-gap' in the back, dangled in the air behind her. Bet I could fly a kite with it today.

Beside her, Fib, in a button-up short sleeve shirt and khakis, asked, "You okay?" She'd been pretty quiet all through lunch. "Tired?"

"Yeah, I guess," she replied as they entered the shadow of one of the skyscrapers. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. She sighed in relief. "I never get up _that_early." They'd woken at 3:30 AM to leave at 4:15 to get to the station at 4:45 to be ready for his first weather segment at 5:10.

"Takes a while to acclimate, for sure. In the winter, I have to wake up even earlier! Takes longer to get here in the ice and snow, and if there's a blizzard or severe cold, the newscast will often lead with me."

Meadow didn't say anything.

"I swear you're distracted about something," he continued. He tilted his head, giving her one of his sunny smiles. His fur, also golden, was a few shades lighter than hers. "Do I need to take your temperature?"

"With what?" she teased. "And where?"

"Oh, probably my tail. And somewhere very warm."

"Just your tail, huh?"

"Well, to start," Fib said, making it sound like a promise.

There are benefits to having a boyfriend with a prehensile, fur-less tail. Of course, hers was identical. But it's not the same when you're doing it yourself!

"I'm not in heat," she promised. "You'd know if I was. I'm just ... plain hot."

"Won't argue with that."

"It's the humidity, I think. Feel like I'm suffocating ... "

"We'll be at the car soon."

They reached a crosswalk. The 'walk' sign was red. They stopped and waited.

"State Fair starts next weekend," Fib said.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna go? We can get butterscotch corn. Butterscotch for my Butterscotch," he said sweetly, in a singsong tone.

She smiled at the nickname. "Fairs are a novelty for city furs. I live in the countryside. I've seen most of it before." Some of it every day.

"Deep-fried double stuffed red velvet Oreos? You've seen those?"

"Well ... " She laughed. "Okay, not that."

"It'll be fun! Besides, I gotta be there for work. Doing my weather reports there for opening day, on the Friday. When I'm off, we can walk around and do whatever."

"I work next Friday," she said, whiskers twitching.

"Oh. Hmm. Well ... what days are you off?"

"Next week, I'm free ... um, Monday and Thursday?" She was averaging twenty-seven hours a week, currently. I'm barely squeaking by. There wasn't a day that went by where she wasn't fretting about her finances.

I have nothing to retire on, do I? No savings, no investments. No 'nest egg.' I'm screwed in the long-term ... and not in the good way.

Fib was _much_better off than she was. He always paid for their meals and would often plan weekend getaways and buy her surprise gifts.

Maybe I should move in with him ... at least for the sake of convenience, you know?

She felt that tension in her stomach again.

If he wants me to live with him, he'll say something. That's his move to make.

It would be a big step, though. Petra's right. If you're living together, you might as well be married, and-

This is getting serious, isn't it? _ _

She'd had a few partners in the years before meeting Fib, but-

Few? More than a few, Meadow. She could barely keep them all straight. There was that canine hybrid, a panther, an otter. There'd even been a duck, right? Yeah. And an okapi. But they were all flings. Brief encounters.

She had more in common with Fib. He was another harvest mouse, after all. And we sorta ... I mean, I guess we love each other? We say it to each other, don't we? It's not just lip service. There was no denying it. _ _

The longer me and him are together, the greater the heartbreak will be when we do part.

When? Don't you mean if?

"Meadow?"

"Mm?"

He tilted his head, brow furrowing in concern. "I was asking about the fair."

"Oh, um-"

"If you have Monday off, would that be good? In the afternoon? Probably won't be as many people." He took her pink, blunt-clawed paw in his. "Just want to spend time with you."

She dipped her chin, shyly.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, that's fine," she said, avoiding eye contact.

The 'walk' sign _finally_popped up, and they moved across the street in unison. The asphalt was quite warm beneath their foot-paws. She was glad when they reached the sidewalk again.

"You can talk to me, you know," he said, still sensing something was up. "If anything's bothering you. If I'm bothering you."

"You're not." I'm bothering me.

"I know about anxiety. I may hide mine really well, but ... it's there. I know what it's like. And I can see it on your face. The way your whiskers move. There's a 'body language' to whisker twitches, you know. A whole science."

"I didn't know that."

"Mm-hmm. I took a course on it in college. Well, not mice in particular, but ... 'Prey Communicative Studies'."

You should tell him about his co-workers. "I've just ... you know ... "

He tiled his dishy-eared head, waited patiently for her to continue.

"I'm not used to being involved with someone for as long as we've been-" She faltered. "I mean, I'm just-"

"Babe, I'm not going to get tired of you. If that's what you're worried about?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized, neither confirming or denying his question.

"You have no reason to be."

They approached the news station's parking garage. He'd parked on the bottom level.

Meadow lapsed into a state of mousey quiet, suddenly feeling down.

Fib noticed and tried to build her back up. "Sometimes, I don't think you know how wonderful you are! In my line of work, everyone's acting a part or playing a role for the camera or the public or ... somebody, somewhere. They don't always live up to it when the lights are off."

Like that cow and coyote ...

"You're _you_all day, every day. You're genuine."

"Genuinely what?"

"Thoughtful and sweet. Smart and sensitive. Cute and-"

"Stop ... "

"Am I embarrassing you?"

"Yes." She covered her face with her pink paws.

The other mouse giggled. "I can see that smile you're trying to hide." He put a paw in his pocket, retrieving his car keys. "We're here! Looking forward to a weekend in the country." He pressed the 'unlock' button his key.

Beep-beep!

"We'll head back to my place, get our things, and then drive out to your house? Sound good?"

"Are you sure you want to?" She got into the passenger side of his car. "Stay in the country, I mean? There's nothing to do out there." _ _

"That's not entirely true." The way he looked at her ...

"Fib ... " She buckled her seatbelt, blushing severely. "I mean ... what I mean is-" Oh, boy. "We can't just stroll out to eat or be at the movie theater in five minutes. Everything's a twelve-mile drive."

"I grew up in rural Iowa," he reminded. "It's pretty much the same as rural Indiana."

"I wouldn't know." She wasn't very well-traveled.

"Don't you like it out there?"

"Yeah, but ... I'm used to it." Like how one gets used to solitary confinement.

"I don't need to be 'on the town' to be entertained. We can ... stream something? Watch a movie on the couch. Make cookies." He got into the driver's side and buckled up, too, adding, "Take a walk, spend some time outside. We don't need to sit and stare at the walls."

"If you're that eager, I might put you to work." She had some painting that needed to be done outside. Some shutters and a small fence-row around her front door.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Sipping lemonade in the shade watching me flex in the sun?"

"Don't tempt me, city boy," she teased.

He gave her a bucktoothed grin, his fingers grazing her tail. "No promises, Butterscotch."

"It's so quaint!" Fib exclaimed, peeking from room to room.

Meadow followed him, arms crossed. They'd arrived at her house and had just come in the front door. The central air was in overdrive trying to keep the place cool. "You said that last time." And maybe it was. But knowing how much more money he makes than me, I can't help but take it as a pat on the head.

Her whiskers twitched.

Am I that insecure?

"I know. Just reminds me of the farmhouses back home."

"You never really talk about your childhood."

"Not much to tell." He shrugged. "Just sorta glad I got away, you know?"

"I guess ... " As someone who lived in the same county she was born in, she wondered if her lack of ambition was a character flaw. Fib is plenty ambitious. And look how successful he is.

"What are those?" Fib asked, pointing to tiny white boxes on the floor, in the corners of the rooms.

"Ant traps ... "

"Ants?" His eyes widened.

"Don't you remember bugs?" she said.

"Yeah ... heh ... "

"It's hard to keep everything out."

Fib nodded, continuing to mosey about. He went down a short hall to the other end of the one-story dwelling. He stopped at her bedroom doorway and then glanced at her with a bucktoothed grin.

I know that look ...

"You coming? Cause-"

"I'm sure I will be," she said, anticipating his remark and finishing it for him.

"Heh. You know me too well," he said,

Do I? Know him too well?

Physically, yeah. But emotionally? Sometimes, she felt he was holding back.

_I'm the one afraid of intimacy here, aren't I? Maybe he's just as afraid as me. He's used to wearing masks. _

He was still a golden-hot cutie, though ...

She cleared her throat and followed him into the bedroom.

They didn't waste any time. Or, rather, Fib didn't.

"I've wanted you all day," he said, impatiently wriggling out of his clothes.

His coloration was so handsome. Gold and cream, a delectably perfect ratio, with pink, fleshy bits punctuating it all. He wants me? I want him. I want his lean, fit figure all over me. Her whiskers twitched as she looked down at herself. I should tag along with him to the gym, sometime.

"You're a knockout," he assured, as if reading her thoughts. He lowered his arms and sauntered up to her. He lifted her shirt. "I don't want anything between us."

Meadow raised her arms. "I saw the way you were looking at me ... at the station, in your office," she said. Her shirt tossed, he then removed her bra. Her curvy, white-furred breasts sagged free.

"You did?" He cupped and palmed one with a paw, giving a teasing squeeze. He left them to tug down her pants. "Bet you liked it."

"Maybe." She was an easy mouse to butter up. Even a little bit of flattery made her a flustered mess.

"I like making you hot and bothered," he breathed.

She kicked her pants away, tail threading free. "Even when you were on the air, you had that 'look' about you. I kept worrying the audience would pick up on it." Petra probably would've, had she been watching.

"It'd be hot to make love at work. But we'd probably get caught. Even in my office." The tone of his voice made it clear he'd fantasized about it before. "If not from the scent, from the noise."

"I'm not that loud." Her panties, her last bit of clothing, slid down her thighs. Courtesy of his tail, which pulled them.

"Do I need to record us to prove it?"

"No ... "

"Cause you know I'm right." Fib leaned in to nibble on one of her blushing lobes.

Meadow shivered.

"They say the ears," he murmured, "are the gateway to a mouse's body."

"Who said that?" she asked, squeaking weakly. Her ears were getting hot and sensitive, flushing with blood. Capillaries began to show.

"Mmh," was his throaty response. "Someone very wise. And very horny."

She felt her body moving. They shuffled to the bed. In a moment of vertigo, up became down and sideways became up. Suddenly, she was looking at the ceiling. _ _

He leaned over her, crawling onto the bed, moving her to the center.

His fleshy, prehensile tail began to tickle at her vulva, poking, prodding, and then pushing through into her vagina. How many inches of that tail went inside her, she didn't know. But it felt like a lot. And it felt good.

She looked at him, up close, her eyes dilating. "Those ... t-that's not my ears."

"You don't say ... " He began pushing and pulling his tail, moving it back and forth, in and out. He leaned in nice and close. Their noses touched. Their lips grazed. "Maybe I should take it out?"

Meadow answered by wrapping her legs around him.

Fib kissed her.

Her arms went around his body as she surrendered to the kiss. Letting him lead, her anxieties and worries melted away.

Lips smacking apart, he panted on her cheek. "Or maybe I should replace it with something else?" He slowly pulled his tail out of her, dangling it above them both. She could see the tip, glistening with her juices.

She knew he was erect. She couldn't see it, but, oh, she knew. She could feel it. The energy he was giving off, the heat of his body. His stiff penis was resting in her loin-fur, their bodies pressed together.

She eventually nodded, head rustling on one of her pillows.

"Yeah?" he breathed, nuzzling noses.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Please ... "

"You got it, Butterscotch." He wriggled and aligned his trim hips to her curvier body. The tip of his sex kissed hers. He pressed, easing forward and sliding in. All the way, to a hilt. "Mmm ... " After a moment to savor the feeling, he pulled back and began to thrust.

Meadow squeaked, her world alight, sparking with bliss each time he pushed forward. Not just from his cock. His loin-fur was brushing her clitoris.

He took it nice and easy for a few minutes, occasionally slowing to a near-stop, as if edging himself. Then he'd pick up again. Finally, his self-control began to slip. He went faster, faster, not letting up. He humped her so vigorously the bed began to sound as noisy as them! It squeaked and creaked, the headboard rattling. The mattress bounced. Fur shed and swirled in the air around them.

"Ah! Ahh ... "

"Ohh ... oh!"

She felt it coming. Like a wave, a slow-motion tidal wave. She wanted it to crash upon her, wanted it to wash her away. She wanted it so badly!

Fib peaked first. He stopped moving, hilting and slumping atop her. "Uh ... uhn! Unfff!" She could feel it. His ejaculations, his cock jumping in her snug tunnel as he fired his seed at her womb. It turned her on so much.

She came, too. Her sex clenched around him, tightly squeezing, milking at him. Each spasm of her pussy sent a shockwave of ecstasy through her body. Her toes curled. Her heels dug into the backs of his legs. "Oh, oh! Ohhhhh ... "

Fib sighed heavily, his pelt matted from the exertion. He rubbed his paws up and down her back as she writhed beneath him. "I love the look on your face when you cum. So cute." He chuckled and murmured against her neck. "You're not loud at all."

"It's ... it's your fault," she replied, through a hazy, heady fog. Oh, my god. If she'd tried to get up, she would've fallen over.

"I gladly accept the credit." He kissed at her chin, drawing closer to her lips. "You enjoyed that, mm?"

"Mm-hmm ... "

Their muzzles met again.

Suck, suckle, smack!

The kiss breaking, he panted on her shoulder.

Meadow clutched at his rump, making sure he stayed in place.

They stayed like that for several minutes, until he began to soften. He had to pull out of her. She let go of him, and he scooted up and laid beside her, rolling her onto her side so he could spoon up behind her.

"I made your bed squeak," he bragged. "Thought it was going to break."

"It's old. It does that."

"Still."

"Fib ... "

"Mm?"

She took a deep breath. I've been putting this off all day. I have to tell him, sometime. Why not now, when he's all drugged up on endorphins? Maybe he'll be more receptive. "Your co-workers."

"What about them?"

"Do you ... like them?"

"Well enough." He paused. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just ... today, after the cameras went off, I sorta overheard-"

"Ah," he went, paws rubbing at her belly.

"I thought you should-"

"I already know."

She tried to look over her shoulder. "You do?"

"My ears are as good and big as yours. I hear things."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"It does, but ... " He sighed. "I'm a mouse. I'm prey," he stressed, "working in the media. It's a competitive, cutthroat business. I can't feel stop to feel sorry for myself, or I'll get run over." He combed his fingers through her pelt. "You don't need to worry about me."

"But I do." She closed her eyes. "Sometimes, I feel you switch into this ... work mode? This charming, suave TV personality. And then it doesn't switch off when you come home. Like maybe, on some level, you feel like you have to constantly impress me? You don't." She opened her eyes again, wriggling around to properly face him. "Earlier today, you said I can talk to you. Well, you can talk to me, too."

He put a paw on her face, fingers brushing her whiskers. "I don't want to burden you with my problems."

"I'm tougher than I look."That's debatable. "We're in this together, alright?" Our problems are each other's, now.

"Alright," he breathed. "I'm sorry ... I didn't realize I was holding back. I guess I'm just so used to putting on this front, that I--"

"It's okay." Meadow hugged him tightly. We're both on a learning curve. "I love you," she blurted, unable to hold back the emotion.

Fib smiled brightly, whispering back, "I love you, too."

Meadow smiled, nuzzling and cuddling with her lover.

Whatever the future held for them, however 'serious' this was or wasn't, she enjoyed his company. He makes me feel happy. And that was good enough for now.