FSE

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"Ever seen a tornado in person?" Juniper asked Fib from the other side of the couch.

While waiting for an answer, the bendy, mahogany-and-white weasel scooted closer to the harvest mouse. It was a cold night in early February. The Super Bowl pre-game show was playing in the background.

Meadow and Fib were at a little 'watch party' with Petra and her mates. The two the rat lived with, anyway. There were four total. The two who weren't present, a rabbit pair, lived in another town.

Eagan the chipmunk, Petra's other live-in mate, was across the room playing the Switch. He muttered to himself now and then. "Stupid Wario ... "

"Funnels? Oh, yeah," Fib confirmed, leaning back. "I've seen some wild stuff."

"Stuff?" Juniper leaned even closer. "Wild? Really?"

"Did some storm-chasing in my college days," the professional weathermouse explained. "I'm mostly stuck in the studio now, but they occasionally send me out on assignment. They're thinking of having me do a tornado readiness segment this spring."

"Petra, did you hear that!" the normally taciturn weasel called. "He chases tornadoes! Probably F5's."

The brown rat, thoroughly unimpressed, didn't look up from her phone as she said from the kitchen doorway, "He's taken, June."

The weasel scowled at Petra and then looked back to Fib with a smile. "Were they F5's? Did you get pictures?"

"Heh. Well, they retired the Fujita scale. Over a decade ago, actually!"

"I didn't know that ... "

"We're using the Enhanced Fujita Scale now. EF5's are anything with 200 mile per hour winds or higher. The wind speeds on the old scale were staggered too far apart. 200 miles per hour is pretty catastrophic. On the old scale, that'd only be a high 3."

"Gosh," Juniper breathed.

"The ones I've seen have mostly been EF2's and 3's. I saw a 4 once, from a distance. Never a 5. All my pics are on my computer at home."

Meadow, rounding a corner, having come back from the bathroom, looked from Petra to Juniper and back again. "What's, uh ... what's going on?"

"Aside from Fibster _weather_splaining?"

"She's asking him about it," Meadow defended, ears swiveling as she listened in.

Petra pocketed her phone and crossed her arms. "She has a geek fetish or something. I swear. If I bought glasses, she'd probably eat me out on command."

"She doesn't do that already?" Meadow asked slyly.

"Weasels are hard to train."

"Compared to who?"

"You're not jealous, are you?" Petra asked.

"Me? Of what?"

"Whatever's going on over there. This isn't going to be like a sitcom plot, is it?"

"No," Meadow insisted.

"Damn. Was hoping for some extra entertainment."

Meadow squinted at her friend. Something was bothering her. The rat could deflect all she wanted, but the mouse knew her too well.

Petra continued, "Every time she sees Fibster, she goes all gooey."

Fib didn't exactly fit the standard 'wussy' mouse archetype, did he? Maybe that gave him a layer of glossy, superficial intrigue. Juniper was easily swayed by shiny things. Typical weasel.

Maybe, just maybe, Fib was nice and cute and--

But so what?

"I could be all that. I could be cute if I wanted to," Petra complained. "Rats are cute."

"Huh?" Meadow asked in confusion.

Petra just kept going. "He's got her saying 'gosh.' Who the hell says that?"

"I do," Meadow defended.

"Yeah, well."

"And you know that Fib isn't short for Fibster, right?" Meadow told the rat for the hundredth time. "He has a lot of admirers. You just don't get him."

"You get plenty of him," the rat said, using her paws to make an 'intercourse' gesture.

Meadow blushed. "Stop it ... "

"The doctors don't know what's wrong with me," was the rat's dry excuse.

"Oh, I can diagnose you for free: you're the one that's jealous, here."

"I don't get jealous."

"Hah! Yeah, right," Meadow said sarcastically. "You're_so_--"

"Choose a honeymoon spot yet?" Petra asked, changing the subject. Fib had proposed to Meadow after three years of dating. She'd said yes, obviously. The wedding was still another year off, but mice loved to obsess about details.

Meadow bobbed on her bare, furless foot-paws. "Well! Fib wants somewhere in the Pacific. Like Hawaii. I'd prefer the Caribbean."

"Hashtag 'Tango-in-the-Tropics.' Am I right?" the rat said, elbowing at Meadow.

"We're not going there just to ... " Meadow wriggled out of the way, lowering her voice. "To do it." Her dishy ears reddened. "We're going to see the sights and stuff, too!"

"Okay." The rat gave the mouse a thumbs up.

"Everything comes back to sex with you, doesn't it?"

"There are worse things to obsess over."

"If you keep teasing me, maybe I won't bring you any souvenirs from wherever we go. How 'bout that?"

"Could be a friendship ender," Petra quipped. "I have my heart set on decorating the porch with authentic trinkets from island paradises."

"Awfully specific décor."

"I'm quirky."

"That's an odd way to pronounce 'cranky'," Meadow said.

"Hey, Fib," Eagan called, having 'died' in his game. Frustrated, the chipmunk took a moment to cool down.

Fib looked Eagan's way.

"I saw you getting vaccinated on TV last week," Eagan said.

"Yup!"

"Did it hurt?"

"Stings a little. But it's not that bad!"

"Cause I'm afraid of needles," the chipmunk said. "When are they gonna invent those hypospray things like on Star Trek? You should do a news story about it, maybe speed it up."

Fib just chuckled politely. "I'll pass it along."

Meadow gave Fib a sympathetic look, knowing one of his pet peeves was being asked to 'do a news story' about such-and-such when he wasn't a producer and had little say in the matter.

The oven dinged!

"Pizza!" Petra exclaimed excitedly, spinning and bounding into the kitchen, her thick, ropy rat tail almost whipping Meadow across the face. The mouse ducked just in time.

Meadow waited a second and followed her out of the room. "How many did you make? I hope you made two. There's five of us. I know you'll probably eat a whole one by yourself." Not everything came back to sex with Petra. It also came back to pizza.

"Don't worry, girly, there'll enough to go around." Petra put on a heat-proof oven mitt and opened the oven, pulling two pans out. "Mm! Smell that!"

Meadow sniffed the air. It did make her a bit hungry ...

"Warm up the queso in the microwave, will you?" Petra said. "Chips are on the countertop. Bowls are--"

"I know where they are." She'd been here enough times. "Oh, and I brought that tray of fruit and veggies."

"Of course you did," Petra said, patting Meadow on the head.

Meadow squeaked, pulling away and putting the bowl of cheese in the microwave, pressing a button. It whirred and hummed. "It says 'spicy' queso on this jar." Meadow spotted it on the counter. "How spicy are we talking?"

"As spicy as me," the rat replied.

"Barely tolerable, then," Meadow said, getting the fruit and veggie tray out of the fridge.

The rat smirked.

"They've done the coin flip!" Juniper shouted from the living room. "Almost ready for kickoff!"

"We'll be there in a minute!" Petra yelled back.

"Your house is so much louder than mine," Meadow told the rat.

"Two mice? It would be. I bet you have 'quiet' contests just for fun."

While Meadow was thinking of a retort, the microwave beeped. She removed the cheese bowl and stirred it with a spoon, grabbing a bag of blue corn tortilla chips with her prehensile tail.

"Eagan, we need help with the drinks," Petra called, carrying the pizzas into the living room. Meadow followed with the chips and cheese.

The chipmunk scampered past, grabbing some cans and bottles out of the fridge. Water, soda, beer. A few of each. He put them in a grocery bag and then brought them into the living room, setting them down on the coffee table.

Meadow went back into the kitchen for her fruit and veggie ray, returning a second later.

"Hey, guys! Guess what?" Eagan said.

"What?" was Petra's demand.

"There's a fixer-upper marathon on the Scurry Channel," Eagan mentioned. "Mouse Your House, Mouse Your House: Apartment Edition, Squirrel Your Stuff, Rat Your Ride." He counted the shows on his paw. "We don't have to watch the game."

"Yes, we do," the other four said in unison.

Petra possessively clutched the remote. "I'll hide it in my bra."

"Don't tempt me," Eagan said.

Petra scooted over and made room for the chipmunk. "Sit down. I'll explain it to you," the rat told her mate.

They all settled in just in time to see the ball being kicked off.

Eagan sat on one side of Petra, Juniper on the other. The weasel leaned her head on the rat's shoulder.

Petra affectionately (and a little possessively) wrapped an arm around her.

Fib left the couch and joined Meadow in a cushy love seat, the two golden-furred mice cuddling close while they nibbled on the food.

"Who are we rooting for, exactly?" Eagan eventually wondered.

"Mmph fmm," Petra was Petra's reply, mouth full of pizza.

"What an exciting game so far!" raved the color commentator. "Shaping up to be a real barnburner, Bob."

"Ha, ha, I'll say! The score at halftime is 21 to 17," the badger announcer said in a rich baritone. "Be sure to stay tuned for the Super Bowl Halftime Show!"

Baxter, ignoring the TV, was on all fours, on the carpet in front of the couch--his couch, in his downtown apartment--wearing a blue-and-white football jersey and nothing else.

The river otter was stuffing his face with pussy. Big, hot, juicy petals. Droplets trickled down his whisker-tips each time he eased back to breathe. He huffed a few times and dove back in, swirling and scooping his tongue into the mare's passage.

Raven's hooves dug against the floor. "Mm! Mm, mmm ... " Her hips began to buck. She was peaking. "Mm!"

The horse was quite the moaner.

And because his cock was currently in her mouth? The more she moaned, the better he felt.

Unlike him, she was completely naked. Laying in the opposite direction, nostrils flaring as she ceased all bobbing and just sucked on Baxter's most sensitive body part. "Mmmm!"

Baxter practically vibrated. He tensed, barking and chirping, overcome by a spike of dizzy urgency.

Oh, oh, I'm gonna ... !

The mare knew it, and she gripped his rudder-tailed ass and pulled him flush to her face, keeping him there.

Baxter groaned into her pussy as he ejaculated in her mouth, pelting the back of her throat with his seed.

The mare let it pool until the excess seeped past her lips, and then she swallowed. Several times.

Baxter trembled, marveling at her oral skills.

Pulling her mouth back, she let his wet, pulsing cock flop against her cheek. Her nostrils flared. She took deep breaths of his scent. "You must've been pent up!" she exclaimed.

The otter could only mumble, "No more than the last time you came over ... "

Raven giggled.

Baxter rolled off the horse and to his own back.

"I love your foot-paws," the horse said, seeing them next to her face.

"You have a thing for that?"

"Well, I don't have any myself. Foot-paws," she elaborated, of her hard, black hooves. "So, not a 'thing' as much as a curiosity. The webs are just so cute!"

"Heh. Thanks." He reached over his head for a water bottle on the coffee table, unscrewing the cap and downing the whole thing.

"Still thirsty?" Raven teased.

"Your nectar is like a fine wine," the otter opined. "Intoxicating, but I get dehydrated lapping it up."

The mare laughed again.

The otter whistled and tossed the now-empty bottle, sitting up and spinning around, laying so they were face-to-face and he could look her in the eyes. He reached a webbed paw for one of her hands, holding to it. He was just about to try for a tender kiss when--

"Oh, hey, the halftime show's starting!" Raven sat fully up and scooted closer to the TV, letting go of Baxter's paw in the process.

The otter blinked and looked at her ample backside. She flicked her hairy tail. And then he looked past her at the TV screen.

"I love this group!" the horse exclaimed.

"They're alright." Baxter was never into the music or the ads. He cared about the competition, the game itself! As a sports reporter, and a fan before that, what could be better?

I should start paying attention. I heard the score, but I couldn't say who's leading. My whole segment tomorrow's gonna be about this game!

He'd missed the entire second quarter fooling around with Raven.

_I'll scour the highlights for stuff I missed ... _

Raven was a big fan of his newscast, watching Channel 13 every morning during breakfast before heading to work at the drugstore. They'd met by chance walking in a park last winter. He'd had her number but had been 'involved,' for lack of a better word, with Dotty.

He'd finally sent the horse a text two months ago, after Dotty had moved, and ... well, they'd started randomly meeting like this.

Mostly just to fuck.

Well, not mostly.

Just.

But, lately, Baxter found himself pining.

Each time he tried to veer in a romantic direction, though, she evaded it. Subtly, with good humor, with giggles and smiles. But evaded all the same. Baxter knew she was more turned on by his celebrity status (as local as it was) than him personally.

I wonder if she tells her friends she gets screwed by that otter from the morning news?

_They probably gossip about the details. _

_Anyway, why do I care? I knew this was a casual arrangement going in. _

It wouldn't have phased me a year ago ...

Before Dotty.

Before he'd fallen in love for the first time.

I'm having fun, though!

Right ... ?

Right.

While Raven bobbed her head to the music, Baxter got up and went to the kitchen. To get a snack, for one, but he'd also left his phone in there. He picked it up, scrolling, tapping. Had an e-mail.

It was a group message, from Kendra, the station's new morning and noon-time producer, aka his 'boss.' Or one of his bosses. There were producers, The Board, the station owner himself. The otter was a small fish in a big pond.

'Hey, just FYI, if it's a close game, we'll lead with sports at top and bottom of each hour. Everyone loves a good ending! If it's a blowout, we'll pivot the conversation. Indy hosts the game next year, so we can talk about that instead.'

Baxter closed the message.

She's so responsible. Inquisitive, caring.

Relationship material for someone.

The otter's eyes darted.

_I'm a someone ... _

Kendra was pretty, too.

Pretty hot, you mean?

Rabbits had an inherent allure about them. They had 'reputations.'

_I bet she's insatiable. Submissive, though. Probably? Yeah, she just has that vibe about her. It's the way she doesn't make direct eye contact during casual conversations. Only when it's business. She has these modes she can instantly toggle between. I wish I could compartmentalize like that. _

The otter had bred with so many species he couldn't immediately recall. He'd need to sit down with a pen and paper to determine the exact number. But never with a rabbit? No, not a single bunny had been beneath him. How was that even possible! He was almost annoyed at himself.

An image of Kendra floated into his mind. Pelt so inviting, a dusty, desert orange, creamy in the middle. Like a dreamsicle. So warm, delectable. Tall ears. Long, lithe legs.

_Should I reply? _

Baxter typed and deleted several messages before simply saying, 'Thanks for the heads up!' He added a smiley face and sent it.

Blowing out a breath, the otter put his phone back down, shuffling to the sink. His rudder-tail was touching the floor. Turning on the water, the cold tap, he cupped his paws and doused his face. It took several splashes to get the mare out of his fur.

"The highlights are on!" Raven called from the living room. This evidently meant that the concert was over.

How long have I been standing here, lost in thought?

"Be right there!" Baxter replied, looking down to make sure he hadn't stained his jersey as he padded out of the kitchen.

Having sent out an e-mail to the morning crew, Kendra retired to the living room, carrying a bowl of freshly popped kettle corn and a cold bottle of cream soda.

The desert cottontail was casually dressed. Panties and a t-shirt, one emblazoned with the logo of her college back in New Mexico. That's all she had on. She'd decided not to bother with the inconvenience of a bra tonight, let alone pants. She was home alone. What was the point?

Like everyone else, she was watching 'Big Game.' With no emotional investment in either team, she was just looking for something competitive and dramatic. She enjoyed sports. She wouldn't have played volleyball in school if she hadn't. Barring a fun outcome, maybe the commercials would entertain?

They'd been duds so far. Very maudlin, calls for 'unity' and 'togetherness' in these 'divisive times.'

Yeah, and whose fault is that? It's certainly not 'both sides.'

Working in the news as she did, she saw enough of current events to know that such corporate appeals were lip service, designed to make it appear like the rich and mighty cared and were doing something without actually needing to. Cause who was going to follow up on it and keep them accountable?

These ads need more funny. Whatever happened to those beer frogs?

Taking a sip of cream soda, the rabbit stretched her long legs.

Not that I'm cynical or anything!

Kendra looked out the window. Forecast called for snow. It hadn't started yet.

She'd moved to Indianapolis two months ago, during the holidays. Coming from a hot, arid climate, the cold weather was a total shock. She'd thought she would be prepared, but it was like a punch in the face. It's probably why the thermostat in her place was set so high. Her electricity bill would be sizable this month, but with her new job's salary, she could afford it.

She was told it was much warmer here in the summer, but that she would rue the suffocating 'humidity.'

Were they just messing with me or are they serious?

Kendra heard her phone buzz. It was still in the kitchen. Which meant she had to leave the recliner. She hopped up and fetched the device, returning right to her seat. Huh. It hadn't been a text. Someone had replied to her e-mail.

It was Baxter.

'Thanks for the heads up!' : )

The rabbit smiled.

Does he ... like me?

I think he might.

He wouldn't have included the smiley-face otherwise.

I mean, that's a dead giveaway.

The rabbit chewed on some popcorn. _ _

He's kinda cute! He's still got an athlete's body. Sociable, friendly ... those are good qualities.

Kendra's eyes looked at the TV screen just as a long pass was caught for a big gain. "Ooh," she went, marveling at the precision of the throw. "How'd he get his foot-paws inbounds?"

She took another swig of soda.

Impulsively picking up her phone, the rabbit sent a message to Sakona. She was a skunk who was part of Kendra's morning news crew. They'd bonded a bit. Enough to be able to text each other.

KENDRA: what do you know about Baxter

SAKONA: why??

KENDRA: curious

SAKONA: you see him every day

KENDRA: as his boss, though, not a peer

SAKONA: you like him or something?

Sakona was rarely in the studio. She was an on-site reporter, zooming around town to cover 'breaking!' situations and overnight stories. 'Sakona on the Scene' was her regular segment.

Maybe she doesn't know him well enough to give me a good impression?

SAKONA: he's a jock

KENDRA: not a problem, I played sports in college

SAKONA: a real playboy, too

KENDRA: You're talking to a rabbit here

SAKONA: and yet despite your libido, you're single?

KENDRA: I'm dating my paws right now, thank you

SAKONA: is that considered a poly relationship?

KENDRA: Have you and him ... ?

SAKONA: nah, he tried a few times, before he got into Dotty. she left before you got here. long story, he's been a little off ever since

KENDRA: off?

SAKONA: he was heavy into her, got attached or something. You gonna have a go?

Kendra blushed. It was one thing to think about, another to actually do it. Everyone assumed that rabbits magically fell into sex just by being in a room with another warm body. That it was 'easy,' or _they_were easy.

That had never been her experience. Yes, she had a strong libido, but she was shy and reserved by nature. She'd never been comfortable strutting her stuff or becoming a mere bull's-eye for potential partners.

KENDRA: I dunno

SAKONA: You're the boss, boss, you can do what you want ... oops, meant WHO you want. Ha, ha

Kendra put her phone down, lost in thought.

I don't want to make the first move ...

How can I let him know that I'm open to him making one?

How was it, by the way, that she could stare down rich, arrogant board members but turned into a shy, stammering schoolgirl at the thought of making a relationship decision?

I'm so weird.

She had other concerns, too.

Getting intimate with a co-worker, particularly when you were their boss? Putting aside the conflicts of interest, there was the matter of seeing the person you were with all day, every day. Working with them, you'd get no break, no time away from the relationship.

On the other hand, since I am his boss, if we get together and break up, I can always transfer him to a timeslot I'm not in charge of ... promote him to the evening team? Happy trails! Everybody wins.

On the other-other paw, she worked so much there was hardly time to meet anyone who wasn't a co-worker ... which was the main reason she was considering this in the first place.

I moved all the way across the country! In the middle of a cold, bleak winter, on the tail end of a pandemic in which I've adhered to rules and guidelines on social distancing? Rabbits shouldn't go this long without a little 'something-something.'

Kendra, muscles tensing, stared at the TV. The team with the lead was punting the ball. But her mind was no longer on the game. She was going stir-crazy. _ _

He's so handsome.

I thought he was cute? He's been upgraded to handsome? Let's slow down, here!

I've never been with an otter ...

_Lustrous, soft pelts. He probably feels so comfy to hug. _

Was it true they had the densest fur of any species?

I think I heard that somewhere.

Thick tails.

_Webbed. Paws. _

Closing her eyes and slouching back in her chair, Kendra's paw slid down her belly. She hadn't planned it. It just went in that direction, easing into her panties. Her fingers grazed over her clit. And, well, that was that. There was no easing up now.

"Mm ... "

Kendra's orange-and-cream body arched in melting pleasure.

Her paw started working a little harder.

"Mmm!"

Slap, slap, slap!

The sound of the otter's fuzzy balls smacking Raven's big horsey ass echoed throughout the apartment.

The mare, jet-black mane spilling all over the floor, had her head down, backside raised. Her tail flicked against Baxter's bare, brown-furred belly. His football jersey was gone. He was completely naked now. And, oh, already short of breath.

After how thoroughly she'd drained him the first time? He wasn't going to last very long. They both knew it. So, he drilled her, trying his hardest to stimulate her while he still could.

Eyes glazing over, he saw a running back on the TV rushing at and pounding through the defensive line, spilling into the endzone for a touchdown.

Why was football so euphemistic? Like, every play, every term ...

Baxter gasped in pleasure.

"Ah, ah ... ahhh ... "

Raven's pussy was rippling around him. It winked. Looking down, he could see it clenching. The muscular power of her silken sex was just incredible! Her body overwhelmed his. He buckled on the spot, cock jumping and jerking inside her.

Raven snorted hotly. "Ooh, yeahhh ... "

Baxter rubbed his webbed paws up and down her back, maw hanging open dumbly.

"Mmm, look, they scored," the horse asked lazily, looking at the screen.

"Huh?"

The mare pointed.

He'd already known that, of course. It had happened a few minutes ago. Head swimming, the otter could only think: They're not the only ones!

"That was fun!" Raven declared brightly as she prepared to leave. Fully clean and dressed. They'd taken a quick shower together.

"Wasn't innocent enough," Baxter told her with a toothy grin. "Salacious, maybe?"

The mare giggled, shaking her head, sending her long mane flying. "Maybe ... "

"So," Baxter started, gently touching her arm.

"Mm?" Raven blinked at him.

"Maybe, um ... "

The otter wanted to ask the mare to spend the night. He wanted to wake up tomorrow with his nose on the back of her neck, the scent of her mane in his lungs, his paws on her belly. Her warmth. She was such a bright, disarming presence.

But fearing certain rejection, he said, "Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

"Oh!" Raven nodded. "Hah. Sure, yeah! Definitely." Her tail flicked. "You're always great."

"So are you." Baxter nodded.

"You can tell me how the game finishes on the news tomorrow morning. Then I'll know what we missed." She smiled at him, opening the door. Her ears flicked. "Maybe you could even say something in code that only I'd know about!"

Baxter smiled back and said, "We'll see!"

Raven waved and clopped off.

Shutting the door behind her, the otter slumped against it. He closed his eyes. He still smelled her in the air. And that's when he realized:

I'm doing it again ...

Aren't I?

He curled his thick tail.

Same thing with Dotty! Started casual, everything was fun and great ... and then I fell for her. Even though I knew she didn't feel the same.

History was repeating itself with Raven.

The otter's shoulders sagged.

"Fuck."

What's my problem?

I can't keep putting myself through this!

The game, which he'd almost forgotten about, wasn't actually over. There was still a whole quarter left, so he made himself sit down and watch the rest. It took his mind off his personal problems. He even yelled a few things at the TV down the stretch. It came down to a single possession.

Guess we'll be leading the news with the game, then.

The game over, Baxter cleaned up and brushed his teeth and got straight into bed. It wasn't even ten-o'clock, but he had to be in the studio by 4:30.

He couldn't sleep, though.

At all.

Staring blankly at the dark ceiling, he decided to check his phone. A compulsion more than anything. There was one e-mail message. He opened it. It was from Kendra. No words. Just a smiley face.

: )

The otter put his phone away.

I think she likes me ...

He curled up on his side beneath the blankets.

As he thought about the possibility, sleep suddenly came a little easier.

Fib was behind the wheel, driving to Meadow's house, which was now their house.

Fib hadn't renewed the lease on his place in the metro. He was living in the countryside with Meadow while they house-hunted for something closer to the city and simultaneously fixed up her place for market. It could take months, maybe even half a year, before their living situation was permanently settled.

"Oh, hey, I won a hundred bucks on the game!" Fib exclaimed, switching on the high beams. No one was on the gravel road but them.

"You did?" Meadow asked.

"Yeah. Placed a bet, one of those, um ... with the multiple parts? Parlays. Three bets together, and I'm pretty sure they all panned out."

"Didn't know you were such an expert!"

"Well, Baxter tipped me off that it might be good odds. I saw him on a betting app and asked what he was doing."

"Aw," Meadow went. She smiled at her mate. "I'm really glad you two are getting along. more."

Fib made a face. "I wouldn't say we're 'getting along.' We tolerate each other."

"You used to complain about him all the time."

"I'm sure I'm just acclimating." A pause. "He's still annoying."

"If me and Petra can be friends, you and Baxter can be friends," Meadow said, of her relationship with the grumpy rat.

"You have a point," Fib allowed.

"You know who does like you?" Meadow said.

"I didn't do anything to encourage Juniper."

"But you have to admit it's kind of funny! She acts so out of character when you're around."

"Maybe she's star-struck? I am on television," Fib said proudly. He was sure that's why Baxter got so many partners. Fib had never tested those waters. He was the monogamous type.

"Maybe she has a thing for mice," Meadow continued, of the weasel.

"She's bi, and she doesn't swoon over you."

"Maybe she specifically likes outgoing boy mice?" Meadow suggested. "All I know is that Petra puts on a tough act cause she's afraid to be vulnerable. She sees Juniper fawning over someone like you, who's happy and more emotionally open, and it makes her feel insecure."

"Have you told Petra that?"

"Not in those words." Meadow looked out the window. "She's so hard to be sincere with." It was snowing, now. Big, heavy flakes. Visibility was starting to lessen.

Fib slowed his speed. They were almost home.

"What are you gonna do with the winnings?" Meadow asked. "From your bet?"

"I'll surprise you with something!" Fib declared as he pulled into their gravel driveway. He turned the car off and everything went silent.

"You will?" Meadow beamed. "Heh. Now I'm gonna be nervous wondering what it'll be ... "

"It'll be something nice! I promise."

"Every day, I'm surprised at how much you love me," Meadow said. "I keep expecting to wake up and for it to ... maybe not be true."

Fib leaned toward the other mouse and pulled her head close to his, whispering against her muzzle, "I'm crazy about you, Butterscotch. You can bet on that."

Meadow kissed him.

Fib kissed back.

Fifteen minutes later, when the two mice finally got out of the car, the windows were fogged up. Most of that was due to Fib's heavy panting. Meadow's mouth had been ... full.

Before shutting his door, Fib pulled his zipper back up and took his tail-sock off, using his prehensile tail to draw a heart in the fog. Meadow came over and added an 'M + F' with a finger before shyly burying her face against his chest.

Fib shut the door, hugging her close.

Their whiskers brushed.

"Come on," he whispered gently. "Let's go inside and get to bed, mm?"

Meadow nodded and clung to him in return.

That sounded like a winning play to her.