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“Pregnant?!" Paul exclaimed. He dropped back down onto the rag pile bed as he stared up at Pox. “You're…but how?" he asked, shocked.

Pox smiled at him and shook her head slowly, “Don't know," she said, “But Jasmine says it why Pox has felt sick lately."

Paul rubbed his head and looked down at the floor. “That's…who is the father?" he asked, suddenly feeling concerned. He and Pox and Ticktock didn't have what most people…most humans…would consider a traditional relationship, but until that moment he hadn't imagined Pox with another rat.

For her part, Pox responded by rapping a knuckle on the top of Paul's head, causing him to wince and push her hand away. “You idiot!" she said, “You are father!" she said, crouching down in front of him.

Paul blinked at that, “But…" he shook his head slowly, confused still, “You told me that humans and rats…that we can't have children together."

Pox nodded, “Pox thought so too, but Pox only ever mates with you, no one else," she said, “So must be possible." She then looked at him, “Are you happy?" she asked, her ears drooping a bit.

Paul swallowed hard, but then nodded, taking Pox's hands in his, “Yes, Pox. I'm very happy," he said. “It's just so unexpected. I…sort of gave up on the idea of children when I chose to be with you."

Pox smiled and leaned in, embracing Paul, and pulling him into her. She sighed happily, holding him. He wrapped his arms around her, and pressed his face into her fur, sighing softly. He wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of blood mixed in with the other scents in her fur. “You should really clean up," he said.

The rat rolled her eyes, “You hush."

Paul chuckled a bit and sighed, leaning into his lover, squeezing his arms around her middle. “I'm glad things are okay…"

Pox nodded, nuzzling into his hair, “Yes…Pox is glad too," she said, “Glad Pox didn't hurt you."

“Me too," he said and withdrew from the embrace. He looked over to ticktock, and reached over to her, gently caressing her head, “I just hope Ticktock recovers soon."

“She will," Pox said, sitting down fully on the floor next to the pair, likewise looking over her sister. “She is stronger than Pox gives her credit for."

Paul nodded and sighed, watching Ticktock's labored breathing. “Stronger than me, that's for sure," he said. He stretched out on the bed again next to the smaller rat, staying closer to her. Pox got onto the bed with them, hugging Paul from behind. He settled in, glad for the warmth of both of them. “So, how long are rats pregnant for?" he asked curiously.

Pox shrugged, “Most of a year," she said, “Pox probably has half a year. Not even showing yet," she said.

Paul carefully turned over to face her, “Is there anything I need to expect? You know…as you get closer to giving birth?" he asked, running his fingers through the fur on the larger rat's hip.

She nodded, “Oh yes, Pox will be very needy, will want sex all the time!" she said with a grin, “And food, lots and lots! Especially meat if can get!"

Paul shivered at the mention of meat. He'd seen the rats dragging home a fresh human cadaver and how it was butchered. It turned his stomach so badly he didn't eat for several days after. “Well, if some is available, I'm sure we can see about getting you your share."

Pox giggled and leaned in, licking Paul's cheek. She pressed close to him and sighed happily. “Pox is tired…" she then yawned wide, before snapping her jaws shut with a loud clack of her teeth.

Paul nodded his head, resting his cheek against her as he hugged close, “Yeah…me too…it's been a long day." He closed his eyes and soon drifted off to sleep in Pox's arms.

The next few days were rough on the clan. The loss of both Stumptail and Gnarltooth was a blow to the rats' morale, and there were many squabbles over who would take their places as new leaders. Every day when it seemed like things were starting to calm down, a new brawl would start up, throwing the entire warren into chaos. Paul mostly kept out of the main areas during that time, tending to Ticktock and letting Pox bring food and water.

Beyond wanting to care for his injured mate, he also didn't want to get dragged into any of the conflicts. He felt guilty for his part in what happened, even though Pox had assured him that it wasn't his fault. The few times he had ventured toward the main areas of the warren, he saw the rats eyeing him, and heard their whispers. He never ventured out of their alcove without one hand gripping his knife, ready to defend himself if he needed to.

It was one day when Paul was in the middle of tending to Ticktock when Milkeyes showed up to their alcove. He was leaning on a bent piece of pipe for a cane, and regarded the two for a time, before moving near Ticktock's work bench and sitting down on it. The rat scratched at an ear that was half bitten off and snorted. “How is she?" he asked.

Paul swallowed nervously, “She is in a lot of pain, but she's healing," he said then nodded slowly, “You speak Kemnian?" he asked.

The rat let out a rasping coughing laugh, “Does it surprise you?" he asked, “I suppose it must. You don't get to live as long as I have without knowing things."

Paul nodded, “I hadn't considered human language to be part of that, but it makes sense," he said. “Is there something I can do for you? I don't believe you came all the way down here because you are concerned about Ticktock's health."

The rat nodded, “I have not." He set the pipe aside, leaning it on the table, and rifled through a satchel, before fishing out a stick of dried meat that he started chewing on. “You have caused a lot of problems lately, human."

Paul shook his head, raising his hands defensively as if expecting the old rat to attack him, “That was never my intent," he said, “I hope you know that."

Milkeyes twisted the stick against his teeth, “I know that, human. But intent or not, it has happened. Because of you, we lost our strongest fighter and our shaman." The rat paused for a moment and then continued. “I hated Gnarltooth. However, he was vital to our clan. It was his magic that fed the herbs that keep us from succumbing to disease. The same herbs we began trading with your human doctors for food."

Paul frowned at that, resting his hands in his lap. “Can no one else take up his role?"

The rat shook his head, “No. Gnarltooth was a fool, wanted to keep his power to himself. No one else knows the secrets to his witchcraft."

“I don't know anything about witchcraft either. Just that it uses blood."

“No, but you do know how humans grow things," the rat said, pointing a crooked finger at Paul. “Pox has told us that you belong to a powerful human clan, one that grows all the food for the city above."

Paul rubbed the back of his head and nodded, “Well…not all the food, but yes, my father and brother do." He then shook his head slowly, “But I have been disowned by them, and even if I wasn't, I don't know how their methods would be of use to us. It requires a lot of equipment, you need lights, and grow bins and dirt and…it's not possible."

Gnarltooth waved a hand dismissively, “We have dirt. We could steal lights and bins, take other things we need."

“But you also need gas, and there is already a shortage. Half the lights in the warren don't work anymore. And it would take time to grow the plants too."

“We have enough medicine to last the clan a season. We can get around the humans shutting off our gas too." When Paul went to speak the rat cut him off, “This is your task now, human. Find a way to make our herbs grow. My brethren are divided, but more want you gone than want you to stay, and their fear of Pox will only hold them at bay for so long. Once the burden of carrying a child becomes too great, she will be just as vulnerable to tooth and claw as you."

Paul's blood ran cold at that, “How…how did you know that Pox is pregnant?"

“There are few secrets in these tunnels that I do not know," the rat said, getting to his feet. “You better start coming up with ideas. Once our medicine gets low, the others will come for your head. When they do, I won't stop them."

The rat pushed aside the curtain and hobbled off, leaving Paul alone with the sleeping Ticktock.

Paul got up and paced around the small alcove. Things seemed to go from bad to worse with each passing day. Even if he could figure out a way to rig something up for them to grow their medicine, it wouldn't solve the clan's dwindling food supply. Further, anything he came up with would be temporary at best. Eventually the taps and plumbing the rats used to siphon the city's gas supply would be found and cut off.

After an hour of mulling over the problem, he sighed heavily and leaned on Ticktock's workbench. “Damnit, there has to be something…" he grumbled.

“Something for what?" he heard Pox ask him, before feeling the rat moving up behind him, her larger frame dwarfing his as she wrapped her arms around his middle.

He squirmed and pushed out of her grip, “It's nothing," he said and turned to face her, peering at her in the dim light afforded by the small trickle of burning gas from their one lamp. “Milkeyes was here, I have to clean up the mess I made…and I have no idea how."

She shrugged, “No worry then. Relax, take time. Think. You're smart."

“I have been thinking," he said shaking his head.

“But not relaxing," the rat said, waggling a finger at him.

“Sorry, I'm having trouble with that," he sighed and bowed his head.

Pox started grinned, flashing her yellow teeth in the dim light in a wicked grin that would have terrified Paul if he didn't know her better, “Pox can help Paul relax."

He put his hands up defensively, “I appreciate that, Pox, but I'm really not in the mood to do anything like that."

The larger rat picked him up, pushing him till he was seated on the table, and she got on her knees in front of him. “Then do nothing. Pox will take care of you." Her hands moved to his pants, deftly working his belt loose from the buckle, and then undoing the buttons one by one, being surprisingly careful not to damage the clothing.

He put a hand on hers, “Pox, really, stop please."

Pox smacked his hands away, “Paul needs this. Pox will help." She continued working at his pants before sliding them down his hips. Then she pushed his knees apart and slid her muzzle between them.

He shivered at the feel of her hot breath as she snuffled over his member. He tried pushing her away again with a hand on her head, but she gave him a glare and her claws pressed into the skin of his thighs, “Pox has claws and teeth in Paul's sensitive parts. Really want to fight her?" she asked.

Paul relented, shaking his head, “No…continue…" he said closing his eyes. He felt her tongue slide out against him, and he gasped softly, “Aah…"

The rat giggled some, “That more like it," she said, and licked over him more, coaxing his arousal with her slimy tongue. Once she was satisfied, she closed her mouth around him, starting to suck.

Paul let out a moan and his body tensed, “Oh…Pox…" he groaned, his hands moving back to her head, this time to caress her cheeks and scratch behind her ears like he knew she liked. He panted hard, hearing and feeling her mouth sliding along his cock.

Pox flicked her ears and relaxed her grip on his thighs. Her eyes partially lidded and she began working her muzzle along his rod, able to easily fit the entirety of him in her mouth. Her long tongue slithered against his flesh, curling several times around his member, coating it in her slimy spittle.

It had been quite a while since Pox had done this for Paul, he remembered being disgusted the first time on the night they had met. Even through his revulsion, she'd gotten him hard enough to have sex with. Now, he was finding his worry quickly melting away. “Ah…by the gods Pox," he moaned, “You have a real tallent for this!" he said, his fingers curling in her hair, gripping it close to her scalp as he started to roll his hips, taking some control away from the larger rat.

Pox was more than happy to relinquish it, panting harder herself, each breath filling her lungs with her lover's scent, each throb of his rod filling her mouth with his taste. She could tell when he was getting close, and she continued to work her tongue, and suckle harder on him. It wasn't long before she got her reward.

She felt him tense, the last few motions almost frantic before his whole body stiffened. Then he went limp, relaxing as his member throbbed, and filled her mouth. She licked and swallowed every drop of her prize, savoring it, feeling it coat the inside of her mouth. She continued working her mouth and tongue, taking her time to swallow and suck, making sure she got every drop. She then slowly pulled away, her tongue running over her teeth and muzzle.

Paul sat there, leaning back and barely holding himself up, panting hard. “Ah…Pox…that was amazing…" he said, smiling. “I needed that." He said.

Pox wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grinned. “Yes, Pox knew. Paul feel better now." She said, stating it as a fact not to be questioned.

He nodded, “Yes, very much."

“Now work your magic on me," a smaller voice said from behind Pox, startling them both.

Paul looked past Pox to see Ticktock still lying where she was, but her eyes were open looking at them. “Tick!" he said, elated to see his smaller lover had woken up. “I'm so glad you're okay." He moved to her side, relief filling him for the first time in a while.