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Old Flame

(Part 2)

By Dark Violet

Firenze stared up at the canopy over his bed.

The scarlet fabric that gently billowed out above him had intricate folds. The way it hung from the rails around the four posts gave quite a complex mesh of barely-intersecting lines and dips. In the thin morning light that peered in through half-open curtains, those folds were cast into alternating sections of pale silver and dark, dull shadow.

It was, in general, rather pleasing to look at. That brought a slight smile to his face - that of the countless number who had been here, who he'd brought back to his room, many of them might also have enjoyed it. And now, so had-

...fuck.

Well. So much for that distraction.

Firenze brought his paws up and pressed them against his eyes. He groaned - a long, drawn-out sound that was topped with a growl and ended in a whine. He lay like that, in darkness, for a few moments.

He'd fucked his own daughter.

He slid his paws down his face, pads tugging at his eyelids and lips before they sank to his chest. His tails twitched, just at the tips, each movement ceasing almost as soon as it had started - as not wanting to bring the ire of their master down upon them.

Okay, so, he'd been drunk. Would that work in his favour? ...Not really. Would just show that his truest self was to act like that. In vino damn veritas, indeed. She was drunk too- ...no, no, that would be worse. He supposed he didn't remember all of it, maybe that was-

...no, he remembered more than enough. Far more than he wanted. And...

He growled again, squeezing his eyes shut. He took in a slow breath, and then let it out, quietly trying to will the tightness away from his loins.

...and yet somehow, not enough.

He looked over at the clock on his side table. Thirty-three minutes past nine in the morning. Damn - he really hadn't gotten much sleep, hadn't he? Just a couple of hours of fitful half-dozes, and those same scenes dancing again and again around his mind. Alyssa, fixing him with a knowing, sultry gaze, padding towards him with an indulgent pace. Then that same face, close to his, eyes closed and tongue hanging from her muzzle, saliva connecting her muzzle to his.

The scent of wildflowers surrounded him as he dipped his head, and he slid his tongue between her legs...

Oh, he could still taste her, on his lips. That sweet flavour, like honey, that-

"Mister Firenze, sir-"

"AH!"

All the objects in the room suddenly juddered a few inches. The curtains and bed canopy billowed as a wave of psychic force burst over them. He gritted his teeth, claws raking the bedsheets.

"Aa- ...aaaoww!" came the voice again. It wobbled in his mind, with a slight echo that seemed to phase in and out as she spoke. "Arceus... dammit! The hell was that for!?"

Firenze panted hard. With one paw, he rubbed at his belly, where a quick retreat of his paws had caused him to scrape furrows in the fur. "N... nothing, I apologise," he thought, pushing the words back down the thread of connection. "You... merely startled me."

Curse this telepathic pager system...

"Not often we see your psychic side, boss," the voice came back, "and I do enjoy seeing it, but can you try keeping it to when I'm not tuned to your frequency?"

Firenze closed his eyes, forcing his breathing back to normal. "Yes, of course, I apologise. Now what was it?"

"Oh! I've got a message for you."

So early? That was the life of a supervisor, he supposed. Firenze lay back against his collection of pillows. Well, work was the bulwark of reality... "Who's it from?"

"A Ninetales called Jasmin."

Firenze hoped she couldn't hear the groan.

"She's asked you to breakfast. Ten AM, middle floor lounge. Alyssa will also be there, she's noted here." After Firenze didn't respond for a moment, the voice said, "I assume you know both of them?"

Firenze was rubbing his forehead with one paw. "...Yes, yes, I do. I'll be there. Thank you."

He stared at the canopy again. The pattern of folds was slightly different now. It wasn't as pleasing as the previous set.

Well.

This was going to be...

...interesting.

* * *

The sunlight played through the windows of the middle floor lounge, where wisps of steam from hot coffee tumbled through the shafts of light. It was a clear day outside, and it seemed that the last moments of summer were having one last encore on the inner garden; the trees were only just tinged with the first touches of the fall, gilded branches crowning sheafs of still-verdant green.

Firenze stared out at it, in a manner he hoped would be interpreted as merely daydreaming.

Why was it always sunny days that seemed to bring torture?

"I do hope it's not too untoward, me having so much," Jasmin was saying. "I would rather not bankrupt you, but if you're going to include breakfast like this..."

Her voice trailed off from behind a small mountain of pancakes. She liked them with extra maple syrup. He'd made sure they'd had enough in stock, just for her. That had been a few days ago, back when this all seemed merely nerve-wracking, instead of full-blown panic-inducing...

Alyssa, meanwhile, was quiet. Firenze homed in on that, one ear tilted surreptitiously across the table at her. There was only the odd tinkle of cutlery from her, not even any chewing. Was she watching him instead? ...Either she was, or wasn't. Firenze didn't know which one was better.

Maybe... maybe she didn't even remember. They had both been very drunk...

"Anyway!" Jasmin said, a fork clattering against a plate. "That's just how I feel about things." A pause. "What do you think?"

Firenze flicked his head round, and found himself staring at her over Mount Hotcakes. Her braided mane swayed as she chewed, curling around ears perked and pointed straight at him. She was watching him with raised eyebrows, and those dark green eyes. So inquisitive, so unsuspecting...

"...Well?"

He let out a reluctant smile. Nothing was wrong, nothing was wrong... "I'm sorry, hun. I couldn't quite follow. It was a... hectic night."

"Obviously. I rarely see you with hair so messy!" She chuckled, slicing off a portion of the pancakes with a knife, while Firenze resisted the urge to run his claws through his mane. "Seriously, Felix. I'd expect someone your age to be able to hold your alcohol better than I can."

Firenze forced a polite chuckle. "Well, we were all rather far gone last night, weren't we?"

"I was, at least." She looked back at her pancakes, her cheeks soon bulging with another forkful. "How much do you two remember?"

"Well..." Firenze said, tilting his head-

"Enough," sang Alyssa.

Before Firenze could stop them, his eyes flicked towards Alyssa.

She was smiling up at him from beneath a mussed-up mane. She held her cutlery in the pale cream tips of two tails, the knife and fork tracing idle circles on her plate. A smirk wrapped around her short muzzle and comfortably stretched halfway across her cheeks. Her own dark green gaze delved into him, jade sparkles gleaming.

...Dammit.

Firenze looked down at his own, practically untouched plate. He moved some scrambled egg around the edge. "It was... rather nice, getting to catch up like that."

"Hell yeah!" Jasmin said through a mouthful of dough, small streams of syrup tumbling down her chin. "What did you two get to talking about after I zonked out?"

Firenze smiled politely, sensing a conversation that could easily fill up a few minutes. "Well, Alyssa was telling me about her life growing up on the orchard, for one thing. I had so many questions," he said, taking a small bite of his breakfast.

"Yeah," chimed up Alyssa, "he certainly probed me nice and deep."

Firenze's fork clattered against the plate, as he hacked at the egg caught in his oesophagus.

"Oh, wonderful!" Jasmin said, the fork in her tail waving like a conductor's baton. "I knew you'd like her, Felix."

"Oh, he does!" Alyssa smiled. "He's really been getting into me-"

The table top splintered under Firenze's claws.

"...Y'know, as a person, I mean." Alyssa finished, smiling at Firenze from underneath that tumble of russet-gold mane.

Firenze stared wide-eyed at his plate. It took most of his effort to prevent his ears from flattening against his head.

Jasmin, meanwhile, was far too focused on her baked-goods-based mountaineering to notice. "Oh, that's great. Y'know, Firenze, this girl has been just dying to meet you. Y'should have heard her as we were coming up. But!" She waved her cutlery again. "What about today? We have the whole day here! Alyssa, you should really check out the Massage Area, just over there. The stuff they can do to your back is to die for."

"Eh, I guess?" Alyssa said, resting her muzzle on one tilted paw. "I was thinkin' about checkin' out other places. A Lycanroc in the bar yesterday challenged me to a game of poker. Apparently you got a Games Room?"

Firenze risked a glance at her. "Well, yes, and - you know how to play poker?"

Alyssa shrugged. "Nah. But he seemed very overconfident n' stuff. It should be a laugh."

For a moment, Firenze stared at an empty spot on the table that wasn't taken up by crockery or spare triangles of toast. On the one paw, he was glad Jasmin hadn't asked him to spend time with Alyssa. On the other, he wanted to warn Alyssa about some of the waiters here, particularly the ones who were eager for new poker players. Over on one of his back paws however, the Games Room had just the kind of atmosphere for folks with that kind of overconfidence, and he did want her to have a good time - while on his final paw, he knew just what kinds of bets went on in there....

Jasmin interrupted the turmult. "I was thinkin' about taking a walk in those gardens you have. Felix, you remember the walks through the botanical gardens at Seneca?"

Firenze chuckled, a tailtip wrapped around his mug of coffee, keeping it at a nice near-scalding temperature as he let the steam waft around his nose. "I... remember many afternoons, yes," he said, briefly caught off-guard.

"Well, care to accompany me, to reminisce?" she said, a gleam in her eyes.

Firenze paused mid-sip. He had been caught off-guard. Only now did the memories resurface, of soft heather bushes beneath his fur, and the way dappled sunlight made certain parts gleam in-

His heart was pounding in his ears.

Firenze forced a sad smile to his face. "I... may have to let you down there, Jasmin. I... have some work I need to do today."

Jasmin frowned. "I thought you said you had today off?"

Firenze gave an exaggerated shrug. "Well... that's the life of a General Supervisor. We have some deliveries coming, and... Trent, on the evening shift, needs my help going over some paperwork. Never a quiet day!"

Jasmin deflated. With it, a wave of guilt rolled over Firenze's chest. He suddenly felt quite awful - there was something in the way that her shoulders sank, her head hung a little bit lower, and her ears tilted just a little more to the sides. It was a disappointment that touched every part of her body.

But right now, Firenze wasn't quite sure what else he could do. It was already taking effort to pretend that everything was okay. How long could he keep that up?

He slipped his gaze back around to Alyssa, to find her already staring back at him. She had a sausage cradled between her knife and fork, and was slowly sliding it, end-first, along her tongue.

Firenze angrily glared back at his plate, and went back to trying to finish his small portion. At the back of his mind, a hateful thought was glad that he didn't have to stand up anytime soon.

The rest of breakfast passed with only a modest amount of small talk. Jasmin talked a bit more about her job, and Alyssa took breaks from her own torturing to ask about the basics of poker, and if Lycanroc tails were fluffy enough to hide extra cards (he really should have given her more credit, Firenze realised).

Eventually, the plates were stacked into a neat pile, and Jasmin lifted them all up in her tails.

"Don't worry, I employ people for just that purpose-" Firenze started to say, but a spare tail waved in his face.

"Shush-shush. And this means they can have thirty seconds more break. Anyway, why don't you show Alyssa to the Games Room?" She turned, paused, and then looked back over her shoulder. "I'll be under the trees near one of the ponds if you get a break from your work, Felix," she said, a soft smile drifting across her lips like a morning mist, before she disappeared in a clatter of crockery.

Firenze watched her go. He took a deep breath, in and out, and unsteadily got to his paws. Well... at least it had all gone without... too much of an incident.

He almost jumped out of his fur as a tail flicked across his side.

"Wanna come game with me, Dad?" Alyssa chimed.

Firenze bit his lip, setting off slowly down the corridor, in the opposite direction to Jasmin. "That Lycanroc's name is Dozi. He has quite a few tells when he is trying to trick you."

"Like what?"

"If he is smiling, he is up to something." He paused. "...That describes quite a few people here, now I come to think about it."

"Hah! Love it. Y'know, I was afraid this place might be a bit stuffy. Lots of rules and the like," she said, trotting along beside him. "But I think I'm going to like it a lot."

"Well, I'm very proud of it," Firenze said, trying not to think of all the avenues that conversation could go down.

"Yeah. Speakin' of this place, you know it's obvious you don't have any work today, right?"

Firenze clenched his teeth, staring down the corridor. "I think I just... need some time first."

Alyssa shrugged. "Alright. But you definitely need to do it at some point. Mom has been gagging to fuck you again."

"Alyssa!" Firenze gasped, tails flaring behind him as he glared down at her. "That's hardly appropriate."

Alyssa raised an eyebrow at him. "Dad, your dick was inside me last night. We're way past that."

Fire blazed in Firenze's ears. He swung his head back and forth along the thankfully empty corridor. "...Please, Alyssa, by Arceus above... keep that down."

She snickered to herself, a spring in her step as they turned towards the staircase down to the ground floor.

"Look..." Firenze said, hanging his head close to hers. "What happened last night... it was-"

Alyssa tensed. "Oh, c'mon. Don't say it."

"It was... a mistake."

Alyssa glared at him. "Well, now that's two women you've disappointed today."

Firenze sighed. "Alyssa-"

"Dad, seriously. As if you weren't a hundred percent there with me." A smile returned to her face. "And I know you liked it..." She sneaked a pale-tipped tail underneath her and gently caressed her belly, making sure he could see just how it traced along the curve in the soft fur of her-

Firenze instinctively dropped his tails around his hinds. He looked back ahead, while his claws tugged at loose fabric in the carpet.

"Look..." he muttered, pausing at the top of the stairs. "In any case... we need to tell your mother."

Alyssa stopped, twitching her head to one side. "...What? Why?"

Firenze opened his mouth, closed it, considered this for a few seconds, and then sighed. "She... has a right to know."

"What? We're both adults. We can make our own decisions. She's probably figured I'm gonna get some action while I'm here, and I wasn't gonna tell her about that either. Why should we?"

"It's the right thing to do," Firenze said, sitting down.

Alyssa stuck out her muzzle, glaring at Firenze's chest in a pout. A stray sunbeam through a nearby window caught her tails; they twitched, making small pirouettes in the warmth it gave. It cast a dark, smouldering shadow across her face, penetrated only by those dark-green eyes in her scrunched-up face. Her gaze met his, and for a moment, he saw the fire in those irises.

...Arceus, damn, but was she beautiful.

"Fine, I guess," she spat. "You do what ya want. And if you want me, you know where to find me." She got up, her tails tumbling out in her wake.

Firenze swallowed, a knot tightening in his chest. "Alyssa-"

"I'll be seeing you after I rinse a few dogs of their cash though, right?" she said, trotting off down the staircase. "S'you can apologise an' all."

As she turned out of sight, her voice wafted up from the gold and russet fur slipping away around the bend in the staircase.

"You know where to find me..."

Firenze stared at the bend in the staircase for several moments. Then he closed his eyes, leaned back, and stayed very, exactly still for several long moments more.

It was okay. He had control over his body, and to anyone walking by, that's all that mattered.

In the privacy of his own mind, he availed himself of the privilege of screaming as loud as he wanted.

* * *

Clouds were beginning to drift through the early-afternoon sky, but they stubbornly refused to be the dull, foreboding rain clouds that he felt should be there. Instead, they were a smattering of light, airy cumulus, hanging playfully over the warm green trees.

Firenze glared forwards as he set off across the grass. He'd tried to work. It hadn't been a total lie, what he'd said - there was always paperwork to do. But signing off on new certificates and checking evaluations for some of the morning shift utterly failed to hold his attention; one moment he'd be reading about Glimmer's exemplary attendance record, the next moment he'd be rehearsing another admission, only to listen to Jasmin's echoing voice spluttering over the revelation - before for the scene restarted in his mind with a different way to break the news...

Either that, or he'd find himself zoning out, staring past the paper, at a view of spread, bronze legs, with all the fur and muscle arcing down towards dark fur-

-And he'd snap back, grit his teeth, and guiltily wipe a glob of drool off the 'Signature' line.

So as morning had turned to afternoon, and his knotted stomach refused to allow hunger a foothold and thus robbed him of another distraction, he figured he would tackle the problem head-on.

Even if he still didn't know what to say.

He strode over the field, past a long bed of late-summer flowers, their tired heads waving in a gentle, serene breeze. Dammit, but their gardeners were too good. There was just no narrative matching of the mood.

Gah. Narrative? He groaned inwardly; It seemed his time with October had been rubbing off on him...

He tried to pry his thoughts back to Jasmin. Sit her down, that was a good start. Tell her he cared about her a lot, and respected her, and tell her that he had something rather shameful to admit. Hm - this was front-loading a lot of expectation, true, but he figured that he needed to do that, to stop her from going into too much of a rage-

Firenze was still thinking about this when he rounded the corner, and found Jasmin lounging on a stone bench in a secluded spot behind the hedgerow. A nearby tree, an early adopter of autumn, cast gold and red shadows across her side and paws, and what sunlight slipped between them outlined the round shape of her rear, while utterly failing to illuminate the dark shadow of fur between those thick thighs...

He must have made a sound, because she brought up her head, nose twitching, and looked around at him. A smile spread across her muzzle like a ripple on a sunny lake, and she batted long, dark eyelashes at him, her tails suddenly rising and flowing like a river. For a moment, he was back there - the less-trodden routes around Seneca's botanical gardens, their favourite spot near a crescent of old stones behind a thin wall of low trees, where the sweet scent of wildflowers danced around them, and there was no-one else in the world but her...

One of her hind legs shifted, lifting, slipping forwards, letting a shaft of light through the fur twinkle on a small drip hanging from dark flesh.

The air in front of Firenze's muzzle shimmered as he let out a long, hot breath. Cool afternoon air swirled around his crotch, suddenly so much more evident than before.

This was... this was going to be more difficult than he thought. It was like his mind was in the midst of some medieval battle, no clear lines, little pockets of fighting all over as all the little shards of himself argued over what he should do.

But he knew he should say something.

"Jasmin-"

"No words, Felix," she cooed, and gave a long, sultry blink with those shimmering green eyes.

His mind quelled. His heart thumped in his chest, warmth rolling down his underside. A dozen memories of botanical walks, of shafts of sunlight across a slender muzzle, of dark lips muttering soft promises in the afternoon sun, ran through his mind.

A buzzing trembled in his ears.

The explanation could... wait.

With a practiced slowness and sensualness, Firenze crouched by the end of the bench, and what little doubts remained slipped into silence from the haze of scent drifting from her spade. His warm breath rolled across it, and it twitched, lifting up towards him, while her tails shifted away from his head. Firenze pressed forwards, and his nose met warm flesh. He sniffed, flicked out his tongue, tasting the comfy, pliable walls of the thick lips. The smell, the taste, sent shudders through his body - floral notes of waterlilies that danced on his tongue. He searched for the metallic hint that came with heat, and only found more sweetness, and for an instant he was both relieved and disappointed - but a twitch of her hips stopped any further musing, and he delved his black tongue between the lips to the slick, sweet wet flesh beneath.

He curled his tongue around the soft pit of her fossa, and the clit within. She shuddered around his muzzle, and he pressed against it again, running the gently rough surface over the small nub.

In time, with slow circles, he began to trace his tongue up towards the hole above. It clenched with every gentle ministration, the vulva contracting around his nose as it did; he deftly tasted and eased at the entrance, before finally slipping the tip of this tongue inside, pushing it between the plump, willing, softer walls inside.

His eyes had closed. For now, it was like there was nothing else in the world - just Jasmin, rolling onto her side, even the sound of her tails rolling against the hedgerow muted by fur and lust. He tilted his head, his nose teasing the point of her spade, and with every delve of his tongue he pressed it forwards, caressing that hidden nub of pleasure through the outer lips.

Jasmin shuddered, one leg shaking. Instinctively, Firenze lifted his front paws, hooking them over her hinds, holding her in place while he delved back in-

-pulling her closer, holding her down. She cried out with ragged pants, and he rumbled happily, knowing the soundproofed walls meant it was only for him to hear-

"-Ah-a! Felix... claws!"

His eyes shot open, seeing little but a forest of pale yellow fur. He retreated his claws from where he'd unsheathed them against her rear. He slowly retreated with his tongue, even though part of him ached to have him pull away from her and the memory, and another begged for yet another, oh-so familiar taste...

He lifted his head, saliva hanging from his lips. Then a leg waved past his vision, and he was looking, bleary-eyed and mane once again frayed, down at Jasmin. She was on her back, thick thighs parted, revealing the dark-rose flesh of her spade at the end of a row of pink teats, crowning a series of gentle mounds across her underbelly. She watched him from between curled forepaws, teeth just showing from between half-parted black lips, and her green eyes were heavy with her plea. Aside from breathy pants that shimmered in the air, she was silent - nothing needed to be spoken.

His tip found her entrance immediately, years of experience giving him just the right angle as he jumped up, hooking his paws over her thighs. He took only a few seconds to trace the point across her warm walls, enjoying the way the heat swirled around him, beckoned - begged - him inside. And with their gazes met, he knew he shouldn't wait, and eased himself down into those warm, eager walls.

Moans tumbled around them. He hooked his paws around her torso, eager to hold her close, delighting in how he sank into that familiar fur. He drove in with firm, indulgent thrusts; it was sometimes a struggle to hold back from the hasty, juddering pace of his instincts, but right now he was finding it a near-herculean effort to keep himself from going far too fast. He focused on memories of long ago, on those nights, those days, those ten-minute escapades, where he had explored and discovered and delighted in finding just the right way to roll his hips to get those beautiful diamond moans from her-

And now here those moans were again, as he curled his hips around hers. His shaft reached deep into her, delving between those warm walls, pressed and caressed in that familiar way. His balls swayed, her short, soft fur so teasing and delightful against them with every roll of his hips.

He buried his face into her chest, grunting, eyes mere slits as he lost himself in a feeling he'd nearly forgotten, and yet now shot back in startling, sparkling clarity. The floral scent of hers, the shampoo, the way it swam through his nose, filled his mind. Borne by her grunts and gasps, shudders slipped through his body as her paws clutched around his torso.

His unswollen knot pressed through the soft outer lips, and he hesitated to press it in so quick, forcing his instincts down, keeping himself riding the rapids, even though the waterfall was approaching and keeping it away was a challenge in stamina and self-control...

Even if he'd not done that previously, and hadn't she been so delighted? They were just so alike. You know they are...

He opened his eyes to stare at the mess of golden chest fur, focusing on the softness of it beneath his paws, at the hot clenching all over the bulge of his shaft, at keeping up just the right motions and hitting all her familiar spots. And so it was her that guided it - over several minutes, less, more, who could say - of rolling hips and shameless gasps. Her tails unwound themselves from his and wrapped themselves up against his rear, and he finally gave in to his urges, pressing the just barely-unformed knot past her entrance - it swelled at the first grip of her walls, and soon Firenze's head was forced up as he arched his back, gasping and shuddering as the back of his knot was gripped so wetly and firmly.

He had just enough wherewithal to flick a tail between them, remembering at the last moment that sweet spot just above the point of the spade, in the shallow valley between the teats - a rub in just the right spot, warm fur and psychic tingles trembling the flesh, and her walls vice-gripped in that oh-so-familiar way. His moans pirouetted with hers, and paws wrapped around her shoulders, he and this fantastic woman from years ago leapt into climax together.

...Time was a little illusory after some orgasms, Firenze had found. Sometimes it slows down, casting things in sharp clarity, a sudden focus of the mind as the lust is suddenly, explosively sated. But then there are times you become aware that you've been laying together for several minutes, or perhaps half an hour, and your legs haven't quite stopped shaking yet and there's a golden, sweat-laden blanket swaddling you....

And then there are moments like this, where it starts off as the latter, until the creeping tension drags itself back up your torso, and rears itself up to glare down at you with folded arms, as if saying, "Now if you're QUITE finished..."

Firenze stared out at the facade of the Café. The cool air and low humidity meant it was in startling clarity, and yet still it sat so distantly. Just around the hedgerow, the occasional afternoon waiter walked to and fro with a drink on a tray. It was a comforting scene that did not reach over here, beneath the tree that they had slipped under to bathe in the golden afterglow.

They rested against each other, her head on his neck, his shaft still half-engorged and shiny and slick.

He had to tell her. That had been a mistake. He should have told her before.

"I hope I don't have to pay for that..." Jasmin breathed, a chuckle in her words. "I looked up your rates, you know. Do you realise that an hour with you is three days wages for me?"

"I don't get all of it..." Firenze muttered, half-heartedly.

"Better not start back-dating any pay. Forget me, Jerry'll be bankrupt too, what with all the time we spent together."

Firenze swallowed, her humour-laden words pinging off his mind. At least he had been able to focus during the sex - aside from that one moment. No, those two moments. Dammit...

"Then again, maybe I should charge you too. Looks to be good business. Should set a premium, woman like me, right?"

Firenze's ears burned. That taste of Jasmin on his lips. It was so similar. Similar, and yet not quite, it had slightly less of a sweetness. Alyssa's flavour was different, had that golden honey-like tang, and - ohh, Arceus, he could still taste her...

He realised was carving a series of gashes into the root of the tree with one paw, but he couldn't stop himself, had to keep his mind at bay, keep it all in...

"I mean, if y'can just get a shop and a bed and start charging... it's a pretty good biz you've got going-"

"I had sex with Alyssa."

It was funny, sometimes, how the weather could turn ice cold, even though the sun still shone in a clear sky.

Jasmin was still, silent, save for the twitching of her eyebrows against his fur. After a few moments, she lifted her head, and stared at him. Her expression was oddly blank, unreadable.

Firenze couldn't meet her gaze. "By which I mean... we had sex. Like. Together. With each other. She... was into it too, obviously. I... believe she actually rather started it, but... I mean, she was drunk, and I, I was drunk too, and it was after you went to bed, and..."

He was babbling like a schoolboy in the face of the matron. He found himself slipping into silence, unable to grab more words from the storm in front of him.

Jasmin stared at him.

Then she looked down. And then slowly, at length, she got up, shaking once to dislodge a few leaves, and then took a few seconds to preen the worst of the leafy detritus out of her mane.

"Jasmin-"

"One moment," she said, in a tone that silenced any further words Firenze had. Then she walked away, down the leaf-covered path, and turned behind the hedgerow and out of sight.

Mostly, at least. The tips of her ears and tails just peeked over the top of the hedge. Firenze stared at them as she stopped, and stood stock still.

Eerily still. It was... entrancing. This was the kind of stillness that made him want to check up on her, to make sure she was still actually conscious. But as it dragged on, he realised he could forgive himself for not checking, and instead it would be a good idea to pack his bags and move to the next state-

One of her ears flicked, and he almost jumped out of his fur.

A moment later, Jasmin turned around and came back around the hedgerow. She was staring at the ground, carefully picking her way around the fallen leaves in a long, drawn-out manner, every second of which was torturous. When she got to him, she stayed standing, and stared just past his right ear.

Firenze knew better than to open his mouth this time.

Jasmin blinked slowly, and at length said, "...Alright. Listen up, Felix. My papa didn't raise a fool, and neither did I."

Firenze's paws twitched with the need to run.

"Alyssa is a smart girl. Dazzlingly so, and I ain't just sayin' that 'cause I'm her mother. She talks a lot, but there's a vibrant mind behind those thorns. She can handle herself and then some."

She took in a long, slow breath, and then let it out of her nose. A flame briefly caught light in the exhale.

"I figured that she'd... give some business to your Café. I also figured you'd be fine with that, albeit wanting to keep out of the way, just as I do. But I also knew you didn't raise her, and so you could see each other in any number of ways-"

She stopped, in a way that the hanging sentence was audible.

"...Even if I never thought... that it would be this way..."

Firenze dropped his gaze-

"But."

Firenze visibly jumped. She was now staring directly at him, though her gaze kept leaving his as she continued.

"What matters to me is the connections that she makes are hers to choose. And if she's choosing to see you in the same way that I did, then that's her prerogative... and so..." she paused, staring into the distance now, "...that's... okay."

Firenze stared at her with boggled eyes.

After a few seconds, Jasmin closed her eyes. Just as Firenze felt it was safe to crack open his muzzle, she suddenly opened her eyes and rounded on him, glaring and pointing a claw at him. "But listen to me, Felix-"

And then she stopped. Looked down. Her paw sank to the ground, and a half-hearted laugh tumbled out.

"I was gonna say, 'You make sure you're making her happy'. But this is you I'm talking to."

Firenze bit his lip. His heart was thumping in his ears.

"Arceus, dammit, Felix..." she sighed, looking down again. "Y'know how I know you're serious about all this?"

Firenze tilted his head, an ear perking towards her.

"You've shut up for once in your Arceus-damn life."

Ice trickled through Firenze's veins, but when Jasmin raised her head, there was a smirk on her muzzle. If it was any other time, he would have said it would be a look of amusement.

She turned around to face the Café. "Listen, I'm f-... I'll... be fine. I'm gonna need five shots of vodka and a Hitmonchan for a masseuse, but I'll... be fine."

Words rose in Firenze's throat, but his self-preservation instinct caught them in a vice grip. She turned on him, and this time it was a sad smile on her muzzle.

"As long as you're also happy with it too."

Something must have shown on Firenze's face, because she leaned forwards as if to walk, before she stopped, staring at him, her head tilting to one side an almost-imperceptible amount.

"...Interesting."

And then she just closed her eyes, tilted her head, and walked back off down the path, picking her way carefully between the leaves once more.

Firenze watched her until she was out of sight, a feeling of dejá vu creeping over him as her tails finally disappeared behind a distant bush, heading off towards one of the doors back into the Café.

So that went well, he thought to himself.

That went... very well.

He stared at the Café, his face cold, one paw trembling where it hung crooked in the air.

...

What the hell!?

* * *

Damn it all. He needed to talk to someone. Someone... else.

Firenze's mind was roiling once again as he stormed down the corridors of Plaisir. The brow-beating he'd given himself had quelled it into a smoulder of anxious anticipation, awaiting the sharp, painful judgement of others. But he had found only kindness and understanding with Jasmin - and as for Alyssa, who'd he'd half expected to shout at him for taking advantage of her... she'd positively flirted with him. Under Jasmin's nose!

Surely there was someone else who he could talk to. Someone who would understand more fully. Faces flickered before his eyes, each one worse than the last. Curse you, Ceylon - did you have to take this week off?

There was only one answer.

He strode up the stairway and rounded the corner. Along this corridor, just on his left, a new door was set into a wall with slightly fresher wallpaper and siding than the rest.

Rap-rap-rap. His claws clattered against wood.

...

A frown creased his lips..

Rap-rap-rap-rap.

It was a good frown. He channelled all his energy into it. It helped him ignore the rising panic.

Rap-rap-rap-rap-rap-rap.

Oh, come on, come ooon. Please, cat. You can't be out today.

Rap-rap-rap-rap-rap-rap-

"Firenze!"

Firenze's tails jumped at a voice so nasally as to be hacksaw-like.

"Will you please quieten down!?"

He turned. Closing a door in the corridor across from him was a plump Glaceon, wearing a parka that added about two feet to her total width. Her head hung low, and between the fluffy hood and a pair of red-rimmed spectacles, two black eyes glowered at him. Few could glower like Clarice could.

"Apologies..." Firenze said, patting down his chest as he sat back, grasping at what composure he could still hold on to. "Is... Nico around?"

"No."

Firenze awaited an elaboration for a few moments, before realising none was coming. "...Ah. Um. Is he in the building, at least?"

"I saw him leave an hour ago. Walking outside, at midday." Clarice sneered, her snub muzzle wrinkling up. She looked like she was about to spit on the floor, but decided against it - perhaps not wanting to create an icicle-sized hole in the carpet that would have to be expensed.

Firenze nodded slowly, his face cold. "Ah. Plaisir Foundation business, I... assume?"

"I didn't ask," Clarice turned around at this, a paw back on the hermetically-sealed door to her office - only to shoot the glare back over at Firenze. "And tell him to not be so...frivolous with his transportation in future," she said, her mouth working over the word 'frivolous' like it was a sour sweet. "I might not handle his expenses, if he starts riding in expensive style in front of everyone, all the others will want to do so too."

She opened the door, and a cloud of dry ice rolled across the carpet. It billowed as she swept through it.

Firenze scratched his cheek with a couple of claws. "...Doesn't he just get the bus-"

Slam

Firenze stared at an empty corridor, the last few eddies of dry ice tumbling over the grey patterns of the carpet.

...Dammit. He once again scanned through his mental rolodex. He stood up, pacing back towards the bedrooms. October might have been possible, but he was on another assignment for Coco. Nikki? ...No, she had her own baggage in this area, not the kind of thing to burden her with. Jack? Even if he wasn't on shift right now, the last thing that badger needed was another problem...

Curses! Nico had been the only answer! The only answer he wanted to have, anyway. He was the only other one who knew about Jasmin, and Alyssa, and-

And-

Well. That wasn't completely true.

...Oh, for...

He could not be considering this.

* * *

Firenze knocked on the door, and then sat up as straight as he could, his face settling into an authoritative gaze. Beyond the heavy wood there was the muffled, synthetic swwwooop of a game being paused.

After a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal a Mightyena, wavy mane tumbling down the left side of her face, one paw aloft holding the opening cord. She wrinkled her muzzle at him.

"...Not even for overtime pay," Sinister said, and the door slammed in his face.

Firenze raised an eyebrow and waited.

After a few moments and some muffled talking later, the door cracked open. This time it was her brother Dextus, peering out at him from the gap. The hallway light gleamed off his ear piercings. "...What?"

"May I please come in?"

"Anything you want to say can be said out here."

"May. I. Please. Come in?"

Dextus held his gaze for a few moments, but eventually couldn't stop his eyes from flicking over towards something inside the room. "...Sure," he said at last, and backed away from the door, pulling the cord to swing it open.

The scent hit him in the face like an old mop - and worse, it stayed there, hanging off his muzzle, dangling strands of musk and salt and semen in front of his nostrils. The twins' room was certainly one of the... mustier places at Café Plaisir. Which, knowing some of the waiters they'd had, was something of an achievement - though not a surprise, considering the occupants.

As Firenze stepped inside, glancing at the blankets strewn over the floor, the half-eaten snacks spilling over the carpet, and the tangle of cables in front of the TV leading to half a dozen scratched and chewed controllers. As the door slid shut, the room became illuminated only by the gaudy pause menu on the oversized television against one wall; Firenze was quietly glad of this, lest he see what must be a pattern of stains seldom found outside of crime scenes.

"What is it?" Dextus said, wandering back over towards the TV. He stood between Firenze and a basket, its insides dark with grey blankets. He glanced over at Sinister, who had settled on a cushion-lined sofa that sat opposite the TV, her front paws flopped over the arm. Quiet, tacky, thoroughly-unfitting music from the television played over them.

Firenze found a less-objectionable portion of carpet and hesitantly sat down, holding his tails apprehensively above the floor. "You can relax. I'm not here as your boss. I'm here today as a..."

He paused.

"...person."

"Reeeeally worried you were gonna say 'friend' for a moment there," Dextus muttered.

Firenze raised his eyebrows, not looking at him. "Rather the same here."

"So why are you here?" Sinister demanded, leaning forwards, peering at him with the one eye not hidden by her mane. The fur on the back of her neck was half-risen.

"I... find myself in the need of someone to talk to, and it seems to me that you two are perhaps the best candidates here."

Dextus and Sinister exchanged a quick glance. "Seriously?" Sinister said. Dextus narrowed his eyes.

"Regrettably." Firenze took in a deep breath. "Because of your relationship, you're in a unique position to offer some insight." He paused again to take in a deep breath, settling a tense silence over the scene, the friendly synth of the pause music cutting into his thoughts. Dextus tilted his head, staring briefly at the ceiling. Firenze cleared his throat. "Ahem... Last night, I-"

"Holy shit," Dextus muttered. "You fucked your daughter, didn't you?"

Ice stabbed into Firenze's chest. He stared at the Mightyena, tails twitching. Dextus watched him carefully with a furrowed brow.

Sinister's swung her head around to her brother. "What? The hell're you saying that for?" She paused, and cautiously turned it back to Firenze. "Wait... why aren't you denying it?" Another pause. Her tail began to wag. "...Holy shit."

Firenze held up a paw to her, then re-met Dextus' gaze. He took an instant dislike to the way those eyes bored into his. "...Please tell me how you came to that conclusion."

Dextus sat back on his haunches. "Well, remember how we weren't in the Admin Room yesterday?" He gave Firenze a sharp glare, and for a moment, teeth gleamed in the darkness. "You know, where you do that thing where you pretend you don't see us fucking?"

Firenze nodded almost imperceptibly. "...Go on."

"Well, you were freaking out about this old girlfriend of yours coming, who you'd had some daughter with. That evening, this barely-legal Vulpix-Ninetales girl is running around looking like some offshoot of the Ninetales you've been chatting up half the night." He scratched at one cheek with a hindpaw, fluff flying off his claws. "Last thing I saw, y'all were necking wineglasses in the Lounge. Now you're here, even more freaked out than yesterday, coming to us for insight on something due to our relationship."

Firenze took a moment before he responded. "How am I... 'freaked out'?"

Dextus tilted his head. "You haven't brushed your mane today."

Firenze had to resist the urge to put a paw to his head. It was like holding back a moving train.

Dex lowered his muzzle cautiously. "Well...?"

Firenze looked away at the television screen and its bouncing menu text. For a moment, he did nothing but stare through it.

"...She was never my girlfriend," Firenze muttered, his tails sinking somberly to the ground. "Just a friend."

"He's right!?" Sinister said, her mouth hanging open into an amazed grin, tail furiously wagging. "Holy shit!" She cackled, rolling onto her side and waving a paw at the air. "You actually did!? This is too good!"

Dextus's own tail twitched back and forth. "My my. Look at you, boss. Little daughter-fucker, ain't ya?"

Firenze glared at him, but before he could really put the fear of a Ninetales into his soul, Sinister was already rolling off the sofa onto her feet. "Don't worry, foxboy. You're right at home with us!" She reached out, prodding one of his forelegs. Firenze suppressed his wince, staying as still as possible.

Dextus walked over, nosing at his sister's side. "Always wondered if you were an incester. We got a few communities you can join. Few forums and the like."

Sinister nodded. "We use this Greek letter iota to symbolise-"

"Alright, alright, enough," Firenze raised a paw. "You've had your fun." He took a breath, trying to avoid looking at the twin grinning faces. "Listen. Contrary to this whole situation, I'm not, per se, actually into incest-"

"Bullshit," they said in unison.

Firenze closed his eyes and took another breath. "...It just... happened."

"Yeah... how?" Dextus asked, sitting back down and tilting his head.

Firenze bit his lip. "Well, after... necking all that wine, we were all rather... drunk. Jasmin - my old friend - went back to her room, and next thing I know, my daughter's in my room with me. It was all rather fuzzy at that point, but the next moment, we're kissing, and then we're... more than kissing..."

The images began to flicker past in his head. His tails twitched into a soft sway, his pads tingled with the memory of soft fur...

He blinked. Sinister and Dextus were staring at him.

"...and then we had sex," he finished, his ears burning. "You don't need to know any more than that."

"Alright," Sinister said. It was her turn to narrow her eyes. "Who started it?"

"She did. I... think. She kissed me first, then... tried to do more." At their silence, he felt the need to add, "...And I took charge from that point. Showed her... what I know."

She nodded. "Right. And...?"

Firenze furrowed his brow. "...And?"

"And then what?" Dextus explained.

"Well... then... we went to bed. Our own. And I woke up the next morning, and remembered it all."

Sinister looked like she was trying to work out some college-level algebra. "...So...?"

Firenze tilted his head. "So...?"

"What's the problem?" Dextus said.

"What's the- ...right. Yes. Of course. I forget my audience." He stood up, and paced past them further into the room, picking his way between the more suspicious-looking patches of stained carpet. "It may have escaped your notice, but incest is not exactly legal-"

"You don't let us forget it," Dextus muttered.

"Yeah. Makes it hotter, though," Sinister grinned.

"...yes, well, that may be fine for you two, but such a law didn't come out of whole cloth, as it were." He turned around. "For starters, there's the possibility of pregnancy."

"Yeah, probably why you did it, right?" Dex said, and the two elbowed each other and tittered.

Firenze suppressed the growl. "Yes, well - when it comes to children between relatives, there are certain risks."

Three pairs of eyes couldn't help but flick towards to the basket the twins stood next to.

Within it, a round shape, darker-grey against the blankets, gently snored away.

"Junior's fine." Sinister said staring back at Firenze. It was a statement, said in the same way as someone might say 'I'm holding a knife'. Her hackles rose down her back.

Firenze considered the possible ways he could take that conversation. True, he thought, their Poochyena seemed to be growing well enough, but perhaps in future- ...No, it was a matter of probability, you see, and-

He found himself shrinking under a mother's glare that could slice flesh in two, and survival instincts forced him to take another path.

"True. True. But there's more. Have you two ever..." he paused, mouth hanging open. "...copulated with your own father?"

"Nah," Sinister said with a shrug. "Never knew him. He was some big, wild Mightyena in some forest. He doesn't even know we exist. Might not even know about Eclipse."

"Plus, we're more into the whole sibling side of it all," Dex nodded.

"Speak for yourself..." Sinister lilted, and gently leaned against him with a snicker, which summarily earned her a shove.

Firenze swallowed, the air suddenly constricting around his throat. "Yes, well. With a father-daughter relationship, there are... issues of responsibility. For instance, I'm older. I hold power over her. Sex is different to me than it is to her. I should teach her, not use her for my own pleasure, and-"

"Aaaaarceus." Sinister rolled her eyes, tossing her head dramatically, the mane over her face flipping in the light of the television. "You're such a guy."

Firenze's mouth hung open. "What do you-"

"Listen, foxboy." She walked halfway towards him and sat down heavily, and began gesturing with her front paws. "She started it. Right? And she was right there with you through the whole thing? ...Then stop fucking ignoring her."

Firenze tilted his head. "How am I-"

And then he stopped, and his expression must have revealed the realisation that was swimming over him, because Sinister gave him a few moments before speaking again.

"She chose to kiss you. She chose to take things further. You talked to her since, when y'all were sober?"

"...Yes, I have."

"And?"

Firenze looked to the side. "...She asked if I wanted to do it again."

"Yeah. Thought so. Don't fuckin' assume that she hasn't thought about all the problems and shit. If she wants to do it, but all you can do is assume she's wrong, then all that's happenin' is you're being a self-absorbed asshole. Urgh."

Firenze rubbed his face with one paw, closing his eyes. His chest smouldered in frustration, flames rising to his throat, and he had to bite them back down. "Yes, yes, I know, I know..." he suppressed a growl, "I'm... projecting my own guilt onto her. I've already had to learn that lesson once this weekend-"

"Well learn it again." Sinister's face was chiselled into a glare.

A snarl leapt from Firenze's throat. "Arceus... HOW!?"

It was almost satisfying how the twins backed away at the sound. Sinister was half-raised up and tail straight out behind her, Dextus crouching down and ears perking, eyes growing slightly wider, both of them turning slightly towards the basket. On the nest of blankets within, the dark grey lump twitched.

Firenze took in a deep breath, and unsheathed his claws from where they'd sunk into the carpet. His tails slowly drooped from where they'd fanned out behind him.

"I... know she's fine with it. I knew you two wouldn't see anything wrong with it. Goodness me, even her mother is okay with it-"

"You told her mother?" Dextus twitched an eyebrow.

"Rookie mistake," Sinister muttered.

Firenze barely waited for them to finish. "But you know what? I do know more about sex than her. I do have power over her. And because of that, I know that this could be an incredible mistake. Even if she thinks it's fine, I can think it's not!" His fangs sank into his bottom lip as he clenched his teeth. "If I have this relationship with her, it could... hurt her. Hurt her mother. Hurt me." His chest rose and fell, tails flicking back and forth behind him like licks of flame. "Even if she wants it... even if-" He cut himself off, and glared at the wall.

"Even if you want it." Dextus muttered. "Yeah, we get it, you're uptight. Go on."

Another growl rumbled in Firenze's throat, like the warning grumble of tectonic plates. "I do want it. Of course I want it. But if I keep going with this, it could lead to all kinds of... father issues, unhealthy expectations, confused emotions... it's a huge mistake waiting to happen-"

"Then make the fuckin' mistake," said Sinister, exasperation creeping into her voice.

"And how do I do that?" Firenze said, suddenly not finding much of his voice in his throat. "How do I do something that, in my own eyes, I know to be wrong?" He looked down at his paws, watching them flex almost by themselves against the carpet. "How could I possibly give into these urges, knowing that she may be irrevocably hurt - that I might forever judge myself for it?"

Sinister stood up, her black lips curled into a dangerous smirk. "It's simple."

Dextus mirrored her actions, and took a step closer, leaning in towards him as his tail wagged. "You just thrust away..."

Firenze took in a shaky breath, closing his eyes. "...I knew it was a mistake talking to you two."

When he opened his eyes, Dextus had sat back down again, and Sinister was still smirking.

"Listen," Dextus said, waving a paw. "Just 'cause you don't like our relationship don't mean you can deny that it works. It fuckin' does. And you slamming your dick into your daughter, that can work too. All you gotta do is get right with it yourself, and no amount of talking to others is gonna do that."

"Yup," Sinister nodded once, waving a paw up and down him. "Stop bein' so... you. Start being more... us." The grin stretched towards her ears.

Firenze let out a long, exasperated sigh, staring at the floor between them. His shoulders felt heavy - in fact, his whole body did. His tails splayed on the floor in a tired lump.

"Anyway, you got a bigger problem right now," Dextus said, tilting his head again. The smirk had spread across his own muzzle, and for a moment, a drip of fear suffused through Firenze's body. "You just admitted to a huge crime to the two people in this place that hate your guts."

Sinister glanced into empty air. "...Huh. Yeah." A fang-filled grin spread across her face, and the drip of fear froze into ice.

Dextus raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think we're not just going to blackmail you with this in future?"

Sinister barked a laugh. "Ahaaa, we're gonna get so much booze."

Firenze scratched idly at one foreleg. "I had hoped that... your relationship being what it is, you wouldn't want to throw one of your 'own' under the bus." He injected as much terseness into his voice as he could. "Not for something you hold so dear."

Sinister's brow furrowed, and she looked like she was about to burst out laughing. "...That's it?"

"And..." Firenze said, tails flaring briefly behind him with the force of the word. "...I would like to apologise for invalidating your relationship. Such as yesterday, when I refused to even see you with each other. For that, and all times I've done something similar, I would like to apologise for my actions." He regarded both of them in turn as he took in a deep, shaky breath, forcing down the part of himself that screamed that this would come back to bite him in the future - perhaps literally. "I promise that, if I ever see you... practicing your relationship in future, as it were, I won't look away, and I won't deny to you that I saw it."

Dextus narrowed his eyes. Sinister glanced between the two of them. "Wait..." she muttered. "Don't you do that 'cause, then you can say, you ain't seen us do any illegal shit?"

"That's correct."

"So what'll you do if the cops come and ask you about it?"

Firenze breathed in and out. "I'll lie."

Dextus merely stared at him, but there was a shift in his body at that. Something different in his stance, yet not in any way that Firenze could pin down.

Sinister stared at him incredulously. "You'll-"

"We accept," Dextus said simply.

Firenze and Dextus watched each other carefully. For a moment, Firenze was simultaneously thankful, scared, and proud of the Mightyena.

Sinister glanced at him, then back to Firenze. "...Yeah. Y'know what? We do." She smiled. "...and a bottle of booze."

Firenze flicked a tail tip towards her. "Don't push it."

"Daughterfuckersayswhat?" she grinned.

Firenze opened his mouth, but managed to shut it just in time. He drew a slow breath in through his nostrils, and when he let it out, the air shimmered, making the view of their slyly grinning faces and clenched fangs waver.

"Well..." Firenze said at last, slowly standing up, making sure his paws didn't disturb any upturned crisp packets. "This has been... thoroughly unpleasant."

"Weird," Sinister said.

"Fun," Dextus smiled, in a way that felt disconcertingly more unsettling than if he'd shown teeth. His tail was wagging softly once more.

"Yes. Despite all that though... thank you, for your insight." He turned, picking his way towards the door.

He'd just got his paw on the opening cord when Dextus asked, "So what're you gonna do, then?"

Firenze stared at the cord in his paw.

"Yeah," Sinister parroted, "Whatcha gonna do, foxboy?"

* * *

What was he going to do?

That tempest in his mind was back, a storm that kept rolling in, wave after wave. It wouldn't die down without a resolution, but... but if he rode the waves, faced the lashing branches, he could never retrace his steps. In either direction, he was hurting someone. He could be hurting someone. He stood at the edge here, and whatever he did, he would have to live with himself.

It came down to that, didn't it? What kind of person was he? That's what he needed. All he had to do was work out what his principles were, stick with those, and he could stride forwards - his cracked self-respect reforged.

But in what fires would that happen? Those of his mind, or his heart?

There was only one more person to talk to.

And for a few more minutes, he could live in denial about what it meant.

* * *

The door opened on the first knock.

Alyssa bounded around it, stopped, and looked up at her father. She'd made some effort to brush her mane, even though fur still stuck out at odd angles, and there was a scent of fresh-cut grass as her chest fur shook with how quickly she stopped. The young vixen's face journeyed through surprise, to delight, to hesitance, her tails twitching up and down in concert with her ears. "...Yeah, Dad?"

"You know we shouldn't do this," Firenze said softly, echoes of a warm, drunken night whispering in his ears.

Alyssa leaned back, then tilted her head. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "...And?"

Firenze bit his tongue. "...May I come inside?"

Alyssa's grin spread like unfurling rose petals, and she pulled the door open.

Firenze gave one more glance up and down the corridor, thanking fate for keeping it empty just long enough, and slipped inside the room. The door slipped closed with a loud, satisfying click.

The late afternoon sun was just peering through the windows of the normal-type bedroom, making the pale cream wallpaper glow. It was fresh, with the latent scent of conditioner that usually noted those rooms that hadn't yet been covered by the tang of sweat and seed. The green carpet of the spacious room was scattered with a handful of bags and a couple of scarves, and on one corner of a pull-out sofa bed was a nest of blankets. A book rested on it, a thin bodice-ripper-type novella with an older male human clutching his arms around a young, white-clad woman. Firenze pulled his gaze from it.

"Your mother is...?"

"Not here..." Alyssa breathed, walking around and stretching her head up to nose at his neck. Firenze gritted his teeth, his loins tightening at the words.

"And... when will she be back?"

"She said she'd be in the bar. I reckon we got 'least an hour..."

Firenze took in a shaky breath. An hour. And he supposed Jasmin probably wasn't about to leave the bar in a hurry. Still, there was a chance, and...

...and by considering it, he realised that there was no more decision to be agonised over. He'd already made it.

"Close the blinds first..." he breathed, and the fires of his heart leapt. Alyssa chuckled, biting her lip as she pranced away, casting glances back at her father.

The room slipped into an ambient dusk. When Alyssa walked back towards him, her face was dark, with gleaming eyes staring into his. "Sounds like you changed your mind."

"Something like that..." Firenze said, leaning down, and their muzzles met - what he had intended was a gentle touch turned out to be a rough, passionate rub up and down, their lips grazing against one another in barely-contained desire.

But it was Alyssa who drew back, pressed her forehead up against his - even though he was leaning down, she had to stand on tip-toes to do it. "But you're not all the way there yet, are you...?" she muttered, eyes half-opening to look into his.

Firenze's head twitched from side to side. "Not yet..."

Alyssa gave a soft hum, eyes twitching back and forth as she tried to work something out. "...Want me to convince you?"

"Arceus, yes..."

And then they were kissing, and it was firm and passionate, and oh-so hungry. He delved his tongue into her muzzle, sliding it along a row of small, perfect fangs, and she had to open her jaws wide to fit him in there. One indulgent lap later, her tongue followed his back into his own muzzle, and he tasted her saliva, her scent, and a moment later he'd curled his paw around her head to keep her there.

Their moans rose between the wet slips of the kiss, and the warmth of the room swirled around Firenze's loins as the tip of his shaft hung from the end of his sheath. Alyssa was twitching too, breathing harder - and as he delved his tongue back into her muzzle, her ears fell flat against her head, letting out a gasp between his eager licks.

Firenze pulled away slowly, and saliva hung between them. The scent of wildflowers surrounded them. "Alyssa..."

"Dad..."

Firenze swallowed, and leaned back. Alyssa pulled back too, sliding her tongue around her lips, grinning up at him. Her gaze drifted between his legs, and he realised that between her being so short, and how much warm air he could feel around his shaft, she had quite a view down there.

Alyssa tossed her head at the pull-out sofa bed. "Go on. Make yourself comfortable..."

Firenze walked over, tails flickering behind him like swaying smoke. He moved the book from the blankets to the side-table, resting it atop a small pile of dollar bills - "Her Silver Fox" the book's title read, and Firenze tried only to think so far about that. He settled back against the blankets - his tails initially slid upwards in a demure barrier around his crotch, but with a glance at Alyssa's vibrant, eager gaze, he let them drop, showing off the half-swollen black length laying along his belly.

Her eyes sparkled, and for a moment she just stared, ears twitching, before she slipped on top of his tails and brushed her muzzle down the inside of his thigh.

Firenze spread his legs wide, his tails curling over his daughter as she slid her muzzle down to his crotch. But instead of going to his shaft first, she stared at his balls, laying in the thick fur of his crotch, slightly darker with the thinner, softer fur on them.

She murmured something to herself that Firenze didn't quite hear, then leaned down to nuzzle at them, gently lifting them with her paws. Then she buried her nose against them, roughly, indulgently, and her muzzle was warm and tantalising against them.

"What... did you say...?" Firenze muttered, staring almost disbelievingly at the sight.

Alyssa's ears flicked back, and she failed to meet his gaze. A small laugh, like the rustle of spring blossoms, tumbled from her. "I was just thinking... this is where I came from, huh..." she glanced up at him, her expression almost one of nervousness, and the very sight made his shaft throb.

Firenze's claws slid over the blankets. "Yes... yes it is..." he breathed, and her grip tightened reflexively at the words. The way she held them, nuzzled them... gods, they were each half the size of her damn head. "Go on..." he muttered, a fit of lust swirling through him. "Kiss them..."

She ran a small tongue over one ball, the wet gently-rough surface sending tingles up Firenze's spine; he growled into the warm air, sinking back into the blankets. "Ohhhh, good giiiirl..."

Just like that, the weight began to lift. Limbs that had been so heavy, like machines with too little oil, warmed and settled down against the blankets. It was like his whole body was being swaddled by the feeling - plush cotton resting against him, with peaks of delightful, soothing warmth swirling out from the ministrations of the girl between his legs.

He groaned - a long, drawn-out sound, and it was like it carried all the tension, the turmoil, of the day out of him. His legs twitched, and the air shimmered around his muzzle. A pattering of drops and a sharp scent of salt brought him back to reality.

Alyssa lifted her head. "You're not coming already, are you...?"

Firenze shook his head, smiling down at her tiredly. "No, no... just pre..."

Alyssa leaned back. "...That was just pre?" She stared down at the extensive wet mark on the undersheet. "...shit."

Firenze chuckled, biting his tongue at her words. "Just the beginning, my dear..."

She gave each of his balls one more kiss, then let them settle back against his tails, curling her paws instead around the shaft. She lifted it up, the shaft with its thin film of pre gleaming in the low light. With eyes slipping closed, she pressed her muzzle against the sheath, taking in a long, indulgent breath.

When she let it out, it was staccato, throaty, and warm air rolled across his balls. Her hinds tensed against his tail. An image of Jasmin's gasping face shot through Firenze's mind, and he bit his lip. "A-ah... hang on a moment..."

"Mmm...?" Alyssa murmured, not opening her eyes, one ear twitching towards him.

"I... need to go clean myself up first for you."

"Why...?" she said, opening one eye to look at him.

"I... did what you suggested earlier. Indulged your mother, around lunchtime. I... still haven't gotten around to washing."

Alyssa raised an eyebrow, pulling back. She looked at the shaft - and slipped forwards, giving a firm, wet lick along the surface.

Firenze growled in pleasure, collapsing back onto the covers. "Rrrrr, Alyssa...!"

"Mmm... so that's what Mom tastes like, huh...?"

"Alyssa, goodness, you're a kinky girl..."

She snickered, drawing her nose to the tip. She lapped up the shaft, and when she got to the tip, paused only for a moment before surging forwards, drawing it into her mouth.

Firenze melted. Such a warm mouth it was, and with a tongue so eager, lapping up and down, curling around the tip and indulging it in a way that would have made him twitch with overstimulation - if he wasn't so relaxed by every ministration. The air, warm and humid, was suffused with a new scent now - the fresh spring scent of a woman's arousal, that tickled his nose in such a familiar, delightful way. And among the tendrils of lustful scent was Alyssa, looking up at him again, paws curled around the base of the sheath, and Firenze let out a throaty gasp.

"You're... hhhhaaaa... this isn't the first time... you've done this, is it...?"

She didn't respond right away, bobbing her head with a few more strokes along his shaft, before gently sliding it back out of her mouth, the room's air cool on the saliva-soaked tip. She worked her jaw - she'd had to stretch it wide, the shaft a lot thicker now than it was when she'd first slipped it in. "Not at all..."

"Wh... who was it?"

"Now now, Dad, isn't that a little inappropriate...?" she teased, licking her lips.

Firenze forced a grin. "My dick... was inside you... twelve seconds ago. I think we're way past that..."

Alyssa smirked, kissing the shaft again. One deft paw slid up and down it, soft pawpads slick with the pre dripping from the tip. "I knew a Rapidash from the next town. Went to school together. He came to visit the orchard a few times, and well... we were friends. Good friends..."

Firenze watched her curiously, broken only by twitches and jerks of his hips, pre leaping from the tip of his shaft and landing across Alyssa's paws. "Argh... mmmph... isn't... your grandfather a Rapidash too...?" he said, suspicion creeping into his thoughts.

Alyssa brought the tip of his shaft to her lips, raising one eyebrow. "You can't blame me for my daddy issues..." she said, and slipped her tongue out. "Not when you're enjoying how I'm dealing with them..."

Firenze bit his lip as sparks flew in his limbs, claws slicing the air. "Arceus, you're a handful - gah!" He failed to suppress a buck of his hips, and pre fell across Alyssa's paws again. "I feel sorry for your mother..."

Alyssa just smiled at that and delved back down onto the shaft. By now she really had to stretch her muzzle wide to fit it in, and had to stop just part-way down the shaft, tongue rolling over the tip, the ministrations sending heavy waves of pressure across his loins. Firenze was growling - he didn't want to growl, but it was slipping out, a rumble of an engine that refused to be quenched.

Arceus... aaargh...!

She kept like that for a while longer, massaging, almost nursing at the tip, her paws pressing against the pliable flesh of the shaft. Firenze writhed on the bed, blankets half-tumbling to the floor; eventually he curled a tail around her body, and managed to bite some words past the haze of pleasure. "Alyssa... that's... enough..."

She pulled back immediately. "Good..." she breathed. "You aren't cumming just yet..."

Firenze panted heavily, muzzle hanging open, even if he managed to keep his tongue from lolling from the side of his mouth. He guided her back with one tail, and brought another up to his head; he slipped his paw inside it, claws running through the thick, voluminous fur, and tugged out a small plastic square.

Alyssa raised an eyebrow. "Hah... you're one of those, huh...?" she said, almost a tone of disappointment creeping into her voice.

Firenze wagged a tail tip in her direction as he found the notched corner of the condom packet. "As general supervisor of Café Plaisir, I must point out the importance of safe sex." He sat up, biting the corner of the packet and ripping it open.

"Yeah, and what do you say though?" said Alyssa.

Ah - she'd noticed the careful phrasing of his words. Firenze slipped the condom onto his tip with two digits. "Well... most of my services rather require me not to use one..." he said, letting the smile roam across his muzzle. He paused, looking up into her questioning face. "As for this... well, if we're going to do it, I'm wearing one."

A golden sense of self-pride suffused through his chest. If it was all he needed to soothe the path-not-taken, he would make that sacrifice.

He was still self-congratulating when Alyssa reared up, batting his paws away - and then took over, unrolling the condom down the shaft with her forepaws. The pale white material stretched almost to invisibility over the slick length. "Still got a thin one though, didn't you?"

Firenze leaned over, muzzle hanging above her head. "I want to feel every bit of you..."

Alyssa's paws shook as they reached the base. "...Fffffuck..."

"Ah-ah..." Firenze said, lifting her head with one paw, his shaft bobbing between them. His lips grazed hers. "Language..."

They kissed again, but this time it was quick - a hungry taste of the other before they continued, tongue leaping and tasting and drawing back.

Alyssa moved forwards, stepping over the shaft, standing on his underside now - damn, but was she just a small, light thing. "You know I coulda stopped you puttin' that on, right...?"

Firenze forced a smile, trying not to dwell on that. "I'm sure you could have..." he dismissed, wrapping his forepaws around her waist.

Alyssa tossed her head. "Don't think I couldn't. And not just because you want it..." She leaned in, a claw dancing along his bottom lip. "Because of this..." she breathed, her dark green eyes softly glowing...

Firenze's mind rolled with rose-scented pleasure, flowers and fireworks blossoming behind his eyes. He bucked his hips, clenching her tightly, dragging her down. It was messy, uncoordinated, and the shaft pressed uncomfortably against the soft fur of her rear, tip springing up between her waving tails. A stray spasming tail sent the book flying off the bedside table and bouncing across the floor in a snowfall of dollar bills. His body - no, not quite, his head tingled, like blood had stopped flowing to it for a moment.

Firenze's eyes went wide, and he gasped for breath, staring across at Alyssa, who grinned toothily back at him. "H... holy... goodness me..."

"Pretty neat, right~?" she said, sliding her tongue along her lips. "I think it's latent psychic power. Ninetales stuff. Now imagine what I could make you do with that..."

A rumbling growl escaped Firenze's throat again. Alyssa must have felt through her paws.

"Oooh, surprised...?" she teased, her eyes gently twinkling again. Shivers of pleasure ran down Firenze's legs, and his shaft jerked up against her rear, pre sparkling behind the thin barrier.

Firenze took a shaky breath, forcing himself through the clouds of lust. "I... didn't realise it felt like that..."

She paused, tilting her head, the twinkling fading - and in that gap, Firenze leaned in, and her face lit up with the red glow of his eyes.

Alyssa's eyes went wide, and then she shuddered, almost collapsing onto his chest - he had to hold her up with a tail to stop her from falling right off him. She shoved her rear back, warm nethers between her thighs grinding back against his shaft. He bit his lip, trying to stay focused.

"Try and play this game with me if you want, young lady..." he breathed, sliding a tail to his shaft. "But I've been doing it since before you were born."

He eased the tip of the shaft between her legs, and found that warm spade once more. The wet, aroused drips were evident, even through the condom - he growled, pressing his tip along those small, soft outer lips.

"In fact, the very night you were conceived..." he muttered, sliding the tip up and down, letting it stroke over those thick vulva lips, indulging in the wet, inviting warmth against his flesh, "I stared right into your mother's eyes. I saw the ruby glow reflected in them, as I sent shivers of pleasure through her..."

He leaned in to kiss Alyssa's unresisting lips, her warm, shaky breaths flitting across his muzzle.

"This power you have?" he rolled the words along his tongue. "It's how I made you..."

"Dad..." Alyssa muttered, almost too quiet to hear.

Firenze smiled, leaned forwards, and kissed the top of her muzzle. "You ready...?" he said, just as softly.

Beneath his muzzle, she nodded.

Firenze couldn't help but cast a glance over to the doorway. They weren't even out of view of it - if Jasmin came back right now, she'd have a full view of everything they were doing, not to mention anyone passing by, too.

Firenze's paws kneaded at Alyssa's rear hungrily, and the tip of his shaft danced at her spade.

It was time to make the most wonderful mistake.

With a smile on his lips, and his heart pounding in his ears, he held his daughter close to his chest and eased the tip of his shaft inside her.

Fire leapt down his shaft and up through his body. He probably gasped, groaned perhaps - maybe even she did as well, though it was hard to tell anything for sure with how his body shuddered and twitched. A million synapses were firing, nerves lighting up like a Christmas tree at the warmth, at the tightness, at the way the walls opened up before his tip and let him sink deeper, deeper into her. His paws quivered, and he eased her down again, slipping another couple of inches inside her - which only caused the same thing to happen again, this dance of overwhelming lust that twirled and played through his senses.

"A-aaah, give me a minute...!" Alyssa coughed, pushing herself up and rolling her head back, eyes closed. Firenze had to fight to acquiesce. Her spade tightened around him, and only after a few moments did it slowly soften, and Alyssa began to breathe again. "Th...there we go... haaah, you're big..."

"Your mouth was too good, my dear..." Firenze muttered, running a tail along her cheek. "We should have gotten me inside you earlier."

She brought up a paw, holding the tip of the tail against her cheek and nuzzling it. She cracked one eye open - but didn't say anything, merely smiling across at him.

Firenze gave a small nod, and began to ease his shaft out of her by an inch - and then, even slower, sank it back inside.

This time, her gasp was slower, slipping from her throat.

Firenze lay back against the blankets, watching her through eyes half-narrowed in pleasure. Arceus, but he loved how warm it felt every time - and with this beautiful Vulpix of his, wasn't she so incredibly warm indeed! He'd press his hips upwards - slowly, but firmly, with the message that it was going to happen, and in the meantime he'd ease her back down his shaft, and try not to lose his grip as those warm walls spread around his length... And after a moment, he'd let his hips drop, and hold onto her, pulling his shaft back until only the tip remained around the warm, swollen lips of her vulva.

"You... ahh... said that your job... required no condom..." she muttered, eyes closed, paws clutching at his chest fur. "Tell me more...?"

Firenze smiled, and shuffled backwards, sitting up against the back of the sofabed. His paws curled once again around the beautiful girl in his lap. "I'm one of Café Plaisir's foremost breeders, Alyssa..." he said, letting his low voice curl around her laid-back ears, and gripping her as she trembled at the words. "What your mother and I did... changed both our lives. In her, it awakened a love for you, and in me... a love for this..."

He sank his shaft deeper inside her, and her tails spasmed, waving back and forth. She clutched his chest tighter. "Ahhh... haaah..."

Firenze licked his lips, the way those internal walls slid over the tip of his shaft sending trembles down his legs. His cock jerked inside her, balls twitching beneath her tails. "Every week, new faces appear, shy smiles over a glass of red wine," Firenze muttered, slipping into poetry as he rolled his hips up against her. "And they whisper their loves, their dreams, and talk of the little bundle they hope will give them that. The joy that awaits..."

Alyssa was kneading at his chest now, eyes closed, hips rocking back and forth herself - Firenze held her back, keeping her from going too quickly, letting his own hips guide the thrusting.

Another growl, tremulous with lust, rolled from his chest. "And I give that to them..."

Alyssa gasped, claws digging into him, as he thrust in again.

"That bed that I took you on last night... countless Vulpix, and Houndour, Delcatty, Ekans, Ralts, Eevee... so many have come from such nights..."

He leaned down, gazing at a shaft slick with her juices as he slid it out of her.

Alyssa was shuddering again against his paws. "I... was the first, wasn't I...?"

"You were..." he cooed, running his lips over her ear. "It's all thanks to you..."

"Ah~!" Alyssa's forelegs wrapped around his neck suddenly, and her shuddering reached a fever pitch. He rammed his hips up, and this time he failed to keep it to a slow, tempered roll - this was a needy thrust, sinking that black length inside her.

He stared at her rear, her raised tails - he slipped his paws forwards, gripping those hinds, pulling her tails out of the way so he could better see his shaft sinking into her. Even here, past her bronze-gold fur, he could just see the slick dark lips of her spade hungrily grasping at his bulging length. The air swirled with the scent of their lusts, heady and thick.

He needed more.

Their moans rose together as he thrust up into her, each one of them grasping the other tightly, claws pressed through fur, smoke rising from their mouths. The rhythmic thumping of their lusts jolted the sofa bed back against the wall, the well-worn springs screeching as they rolled and bounced. The prodigy of his loins now shuddered around them, and his waiting balls twitched in anticipation of an unnatural, delightful reunion, as he pounded up into his daughter.

Pleasure coursed through him like flaming brandy. He could orgasm at any point, could let those fires catch and blaze into a glorious inferno, but no - no, he wanted to savour every last damn moment of this...

Alyssa pulled back, staring across at him, drool hanging from her mouth. Her eyes twinkled again, but the psychic influence wasn't the velvet sledgehammer from before - it was a scent of rose in the air, making his paws tingle.

"You know I've wanted this for years..." she muttered, rolling her hips up and down in unison with his thrusts.

"I'm... happy I don't disappoint..."

"You know you didn't need any convincing, really... right?" She gasped, an open-mouth smile pulling at her black lips. "You know this is what you wanted from the start...?"

Firenze swallowed, feeling like a fire roaring in a forest. "I know..." he said, and found in his heart that it was true.

Alyssa growled, leaning closer - Firenze's balls twitched as two tails curled around them, lifting them up. The small vixen traced a claw along Firenze's chin, even as her body was jolted by thrust after thrust. "Go on, Dad..." Alyssa murmured, her breath on his lips. "Cum inside me..."

The last drips of doubt evaporated in those words.

"Kiss me while I do it..." is all he said, and then they were, ends of their muzzles locked together, fangs on fangs, tongue dancing, and Firenze let his daughter caress his balls as he drove his shaft up into her - achingly shallow thrusts, thrusts that did not let his rapidly-swelling knot to do anything more than press hungrily against her lips - but thrusts that sent a rising tingling through his body, like a flower leaping from fertile soil in a shower of leaves, curling and reaching for the bright, bright sun, higher and higher, stronger and stronger - until his balls jumped against her tails, and he surged his muzzle forwards to press his tongue into her muzzle, and their moans danced in each other's throats as he finally, finally - once again - climaxed inside his daughter.

She danced and writhed atop him, and the golden, glittering mists of orgasm rolled into his brain. In it, he barely noticed how he'd moved paw between her legs, and pressed down on the underside of her vulva and against the hardened clit just evident past those thick walls, rubbing it in just the way her mother had taught him. Alyssa's walls gripped, a hungry, needy grip, and by pure instinct alone he was able to twitch and rub the clit below in just the right, delightful way to keep that spade gripping wonderfully firm around the top of his knot, and pleasure sparking up and down her body....

And all the while, he was cumming. His shaft bulged, and that familiar rush of seed up his length and burst from his tip sent shivers down his spine as the thought of just who it was spurting into blazed in his mind. His legs were weak, his tails sluggish, and yet they danced and he gripped Alyssa tightly all the same, the last reserves of his mind and strength buoying them through their shared, world-shattering orgasm...

...And the knowledge that things would never be the same after this, that he had walked down a treacherous path he could never retrace?

It blazed a delighted, lust-filled, rose-scented fire in his chest.

* * *

Firenze trotted into the bustle of the Main Bar in the late afternoon, slinking between the shifting tides of customers, quite unable to wrench the smile from his face.

They say that you should always masturbate before you make a big decision. The haze of lust can hide your true feelings, and the sharp post-orgasm clarity can reveal what you really want.

Well, his balls were lightened, and the taste of Alyssa's saliva still rested on his lips - and for the first time this weekend, he was relaxed.

He'd had a shower, even if it had taken a promise of Alyssa sharing it to drag him in, and they'd kissed once again under the stream of near-boiling water. Now, his fur shone with a brushing that was as good as could be hoped for without a visit to the Furfrou downstairs, and any scent of the sordid actions was... well, not gone, but at least at the baseline level for all waiters at Café Plaisir. Even if he'd hoped he could keep her flowery scent and the delightful post-sex stickiness for a little longer.

And yet, he noted, it wasn't shame that had driven his need to clean it off. Sure, there was a little of that remaining, some part of him that lurked in his mind, writing in stone that itemised list of sins - but it was a small part, and it had already faded from what it once had been - and in its place was a memory of Alyssa's genuine, broad, beautiful smile.

No, it was merely a mindful concern. As for what...

He wound his way around the cheering and chattering clientele to find Jasmin at the bar, in the same seat she'd been in just a day before - so long ago now - the river of her mane dancing as she leaned over the counter. An empty shot glass was clenched between two claws, and she was half-shouting at the slyly-smirking Pyroar bartender.

"You think you could teach a few things to me!?" she shouted above the din of the bar, waving her glass around as she did. "Listen here, Zorro, I ain't some damsel for you to save. I bet I've had more candlelit nights than your whole family, and don't think some rough cat tongue is gonna be new to me."

"If you're a veteran of love, then maybe we can... compare?" the bartender purred with a hint of a Mexican accent. "A night on the covers does not need a mentor, and I'd be happy to have a sparrrrring partner." His tongue rolled on the r's in a way that even sent a shudder down a couple of Firenze's tails as he approached.

"I'd break your hips, youngster," Jasmin snipped with narrowed eyes, yet a smile spread across her dark lips.

"When it comes to Ninetales..." Firenze said, slipping into the seat next to her, "You're still rather young, you realise?"

Jasmin swung around to stare at him. Her expression was blank, unreadable - but Firenze knew her, and in her eyes, and the slight microscopic twitches of her face, he saw a dozen different thoughts flying.

He merely smiled and leaned over towards the bartender. "Double brandy for me, Simon. And one more of whatever Jasmin is having, on my tab."

"Two more," Jasmin interjected.

"They've all been on your tab," Simon said with a perk of his eyebrow as he retrieved a small glass. "She said you'd understand."

Firenze glanced at Jasmin, who raised her eyebrows at him admonishingly.

"Of course," Firenze said smoothly as the drinks appeared in front of them, bronze liquid tumbling around the edges of his glass. "If you could give us a moment, please, Simon?"

Simon glanced between them for a moment, then nodded. "I'll be back for more orders later..." he said, and left with one lingering look at Jasmin.

Firenze picked up the glass in one paw and eyed his old friend. "Interested in him?"

Jasmin huffed, staring at the clear liquid in her own shot glass, dripping down the engraved 'P' on the outside. "A little full of himself. Curious as to whether it's justified or not."

Firenze smiled. "Well, knowing how he handles the ladies, I wonder if I should be a little jealous. If that's any indicator."

Jasmin hummed thoughtfully, casting a long glance at the rolling tail disappearing to the other end of the bar, where he was now serving a trio of humans on a bachelorette party. "In that case, you'd better not keep me long. If you make me miss that chance, I'll demand a replacement."

Firenze chuckled and sipped at the brandy, the sweet, complex warmth sending pleasant, tension-easing shivers down his forelegs. Bronze fur flashed between a gap in the customers, and he tracked it with his gaze - Alyssa had followed him at a respectful distance, and now settled down at a half-full table across the bar from them, smirking at a messy-maned Lycanroc sat opposite.

Jasmin followed his gaze, and froze, staring at her. Alyssa noticed them, and her tails began to wave as she gave them a vibrant smile.

Firenze looked back down at his drink and coughed politely. "...Jasmin-"

"Wait-" she said, and then quickly downed one of the shots. Her muzzle wrinkled, and a shudder spread right to the end of her tails. "...Sorry, whatever you're about to say, I needed some support for."

"How many of those have you had?"

"Enough to make me not want to rip your throat out," she said, and an icicle stabbed through Firenze's chest - though one look from her large, jade eyes, at how they stared with a gentle sincerity of spirit, dulled the pain. "Not enough to make me not want to kiss you, still."

Firenze tapped two claws against his glass. "So when should I cut you off?"

She inspected her shot glass. "...Dunno. Not found that limit yet." She dropped her paw to the counter, the glass clattering against it. "Aw, hell, Felix. I-"

Then she stopped. After a moment, she looked at him, and for a moment they just stared into each other's eyes.

"I just... care a lot about you," she muttered. "And this ain't exactly what I expected."

"I know", he said, swirling the brandy around in his glass. "And I don't want to hurt you."

"Look, there's still one more thing I need to tell ya," Jasmin said, tails swinging back and forth as she turned towards him. "I love ya, Felix. Not, like, as a partner or anythin'. But you were always there for me. You cared about me. And you gave me more than happiness." Her head tilted, and she glanced over at Alyssa, probably in a way that she didn't even register. She fingered the glass with both paws now. "I'm just... scared. Llife gets complicated sometimes, you know? And I don't want to lose that happiness when it does. I don't wanna lose Alyssa as a daughter, nor you as a friend."

Firenze nodded slowly, staring over at his daughter, laughing at that far table. "I know how you feel."

"Hah..." she barked darkly, and then smirked sadly up at him. "...I also don't wanna prod ya too hard for bein' impulsive. Bit hypocritical of me."

Firenze opened his mouth for a few seconds before he responded. "...To be fair, I'm sure you didn't mean this."

"You always did manage to surprise me, Felix," she said - and then paused, sighing. "...Shit, I've been calling you Felix all this time. Should really be Firenze now, shouldn't it?"

Firenze put a paw on her thigh, and the warmth made his heart leap.

"Jasmin, from you, Felix is fine," he said.

She was breathing heavily now, her chest rising and falling. She slapped the shot glass back on the counter where it span and toppled over, and she put her paws on his.

"I asked ya earlier if you were okay with it," she said, "you and Alyssa, I mean. And you weren't. You didn't have to say anything for me to know that."

Firenze nodded.

"Well?"

He... smiled. He leaned in, and his head brushed against hers.

"I think... I will be."

Jasmin let out a held breath with a laugh, in that oh-so-familiar waterfall way he loved. "...Damn you. That actually makes me feel better." She glanced to the side, staring into space past the bottles along the wall. "For all these years, Alyssa's made me very happy. Now's the time for her to make you happy, too."

Firenze resisted the urge to glance over at the other table, swallowing down the words rising in his throat.

Jasmin glared. "Yeah, you'd better not say anything about that, or I'll bite your tails off."

The relief tumbling through his body forced a thankful laugh from Firenze. While he leaned back, Jasmin grunted, swooped in - and the next moment, she was sipping from his brandy glass.

"Hey... you don't drink brandy," Firenze said, as she leaned back to inspect the liquid with a frown. "I thought gin and vodka were your only spirits?"

She shrugged, still staring at the glass. "Thought I'd step out of my comfort zone." She took another small sip, and her tongue slipped around her black lips. "...I think it's gonna go well."

The smile slipped back across Firenze's lips. This time, he let his gaze linger on Alyssa; she was playing with a bottle of beer in her paws, and was laughing in the bar's light, looking all the world like a sunflower on a summer morning.

"You know what," Firenze said, picking up Jasmin's other shot glass. "Same here... in both cases."

A tail darted around his paw, holding it in place. A couple of claws plucked the shot glass from his grip.

"Fuck your metaphor," Jasmin said with a broad, familiar grin, the rim of the glass dancing against her lips, "Get your own."

Fin