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Unpleasant Developments, Chapter Seven: Out on the Town.

In which I learn some of the cardinal rules of grammar.

In the dry August evening, Megan and I stood outside the Crook and Cross-spar, an authentic Aussie bar my brother had bought up and redesigned. New paint, new windows, and this door. It was a big door. It was a tough door. And, it was at this door (or rather, the pavement in front of it) at which I first got a proper look at her. She was simply divine; no other word could ever fit. Her normally straightened blonde hair was in a fancy, French style with her ears poking out the sides. Her dress was a brilliant ruby colour, with an ivy leaves print running up the side. The dress left her long tail free to the air, swishing to and fro, occasionally pointing in some odd direction. Across her waist was a black pleather belt, with a matching choker necklace around her neck. The choker was adorned with brooding garnets, matching those sunk into her earrings. Her glasses had disappeared for the evening, replaced by contacts that gave her the light squinting lilt of a model. From computer geek to magna chic. I stuttered after looking at her, not sure of what to compliment first.

"Oh, wow... j-just look at you... we're gonna knock 'em dead, kid."

She glared at me frostily, but smiled nonetheless.

"It's Megan to you, Luke. Now, are you sure there's anyone my type in there?"

"Well, what is your type?"

She blushed slightly, and weirdly enough, raised her voice.

"Er, I like men that are more polite, but still the dashing hero in those old princess tales, you know? I want someone sweet, but with some kind of sense of adventure, a daring streak, all that. But what are the odds of finding my prince in here?"

"Knowing Toby's clientele, there's actually a pretty good shot. C'mon, first round's on me."

Inside, the evening was in full flow. Only three stools were left standing, the others having been used to smite the heads of the other patrons. On a snooker table in the far right corner, a pair of female wolves were making out, much to the delight of the various males surrounding them. The men, all seemingly of different species, threw all kinds of encouragement, some in words and others in money. In the back left corner, a dark-furred otter just a few inches shorter than myself was putting the moves on an equally tall gecko. I couldn't hear what he said, but once the female had finished slapping the otter silly, I decided to go find out exactly what was happening. As soon as he looked up at me, my brother groaned.

"Oh, you uh, you saw that, right? Thought so. Crap. So, how's life been treatin' ya Luke?"

"Ambivalent lately. Oh, this is Megan, she's the reason I'm here. Er, Megan? Where are you?"

Just as I called for her, Megan came storming up.

"Where in the hell have you been!?" She screeched, "In the twenty-two seconds you've been gone, I've been passed at three times, winked at five, and even been felt up! WHY did you bring me here!?"

My neural circuits quickly went into: Excuse Mode, stumbling out both question and answer.

"Wait, what? Someone... seriously did that? Wow, Toby, what've you done to the place? You need an assistant, bro."

"Here, we'll talk in a sec. OI! SHIT-FOR-BRAINS! Get outta me pub!"

The rat who had fondled Megan stormed sulkily out, and soon normalcy returned to the drinkers.

"Sorry about that, Luke. So this is Megan? My, she's gorgeous. *Megan blushes even darker than normal.* You wanna get her a date, eh? Well, if I may be so bold, why don't I volunteer?"

Megan squeaked loudly, and I nearly dropped my pint. Not even he could be this forward. Although, I suppose he'd be an OK match for someone. Tall, lean, and if I may say so in a non-incestuous-creepy way, handsome. He had these gray eyes that never seemed to stop glittering, a deep voice, and fantastic hair. Sublime hair. Hair that would easily outclass Her Majesty the Queen. It fell in neat, light brown terraces that brought to mind an exquisitely crafted topiary garden, with each shrub aligned to delight the eyes. But, as do we all, he had his downsides. He was ridiculously irresponsible, a practical joker to end them all, and a bit of a chauvinistic sex hound. His proposed girlfriend? A shy, incredibly nervous mousegirl with an impressive mind. And body. Deep in my soul I knew this would not work out well, but if it'll make her happy, then who am I to judge?

"Well, Meg, what do you think?"

"Um, I guess I could... I'm open tomorrow night, if that's alright."

Toby laughed at this, and laid a paw on her shoulder.

"Howzabout tonight? Pub's open 'til nine. Luke, do you mind driving us home?"

"She hasn't said yes, but fine."

I laid my unfinished mug on the counter, and looked at Megan. She was staring right into Toby's eyes, seemingly transfixed. He stared back, seemingly hypnotizing her. I knew this wouldn't end well.

"Alright, we've run dry for the night. Sorry, but go home!"

Grumbling, the drinkers shuffled out, leaving an unstable Toby and blitzed out Megan behind. I scooped the hiccupping couple up, and dragged them to my car. Once everyone had buckled in, I turned back.

"Megan, where exactly do you live? I just noticed that no one knows."

"Er... take a left over on that corner, and... and... oh, just drop us off at your house. You mind?"

"Yes I do mind, but it's our only option. No singing, and we'll be there in twenty."

We sped off, rounding corners and sending a cloud of insects to their deaths. After an annoyingly musical half hour, we pulled into the garage. The Cooper whirred down to sleep, and Toby and Meg stumbled inside. She crashed into the couch, and he fell into an armchair, exhausted from his marathon chug.

"You two stay separated, and I'll fix your hangovers in the morning. And Toby," I glared until he quailed. Speaking wasn't necessary. "Alright, I'm going to bed. Call me if you need something."

Drunken snores greeted me in reply. I shook my head, and made my way to my room. After I had finished changing out of my business clothes, I heard Toby through the wall. As I had expected, his mind was on one thing.

"So, um, Megan. D'you think you might wanna yiff right now?"

I couldn't believe it. The guy's headstrong, but nobody's this stupid. I chuckled to myself, expecting him to yell in pain as a small paw smashed into his testicles at any second. I heard quite a different sound.

"My head's gonna hurt too much in the morning. Sorry, Toby, maybe tomorrow."

"C'mon, just once? I brought a condom..."

"No, now go to sleep!"

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleeeeeeeeeease?"

"FINE! You get two loads, and then I'm done, okay?!"

"Yay! Oh thanks, Meg, it's been too long..."

After a minute, I heard Megan squeak, and then she started grunting. Then, I heard furniture being moved about, the armchair's wobbly leg thumping the ground at a rapid pace. Rolling over, I laid my paws down on the space where Allan's shoulders usually are. I frowned as I struck cool cotton, and reached for my mobile phone. I thought about calling Allan again, but I chickened out, thinking it would seem like I was checking up on him. Then, I thought of someone else. After a few minutes, in which the squeaks and moans downstairs sped up, I dialed in Phil's number.

"Doooooooooooop... Dooooooooooooooop..."

"Pick up, damn you!"

"Ugh... what is it, Luke? The Mavs are down six points, so sorry if I say anything rude."

"Hey, Phil. I know what you meant about hearing your sister have sex; my brother's downstairs right now, shagging a girl from my office."

"That's disgusting. So, what's go-"

Suddenly, the furniture was being slammed to bits. Megan was yelling in staccato, and Toby started gasping. In a voice that boomed and echoed through the house, he said the one thing that makes me squirm when someone says it: "F-fuck! Meg, I'm gonna cum! Rreaghh! Ahh! Ah!" (Before you ask, my real brother yelled exactly like that. It scared me enough to stick in my mind forever.)

"Yo, Luke? You there?"

"I, uh, I think my brother just creamed in her... Ick."

"Haha! Oh, wow, that's just rugged! Listen, the Patriots just won. I'm gonna go cry now. Bye!"

"Wait, I thought it was baske- Y'lo? Phil? Crap. *click.*"

I rolled over in bed, but couldn't sleep. I juggled the choice of going to get some NyQuil against seeing my brother have his way with someone. Sleep won out. I slipped my tail through some boxers, yanked them on, and started for the door.

My world, temporarily, shattered when I heard the downstairs door creak open, and in full Texan swing, "Luke! Ah'm home! Wher- Who the flyin' fuck er yew!? An' Luke, why?! Why 'n the hell wouldja do this ta me!?"

Oh crap. Allan confused Toby with me. The only difference is our height and Toby's glasses, but other than that, we're twins. I swung the door open, and ran down the stairs. A look of horror and betrayal was on Al's face. Toby was in Meg's lap, his long erection pressing into her cotton belly fur, glistening with recent wetness. Megan covered her chest as best she could, but failed, given her bustiness. Both were looking at him, frozen in place. I descended the stairs, and Allan did a double take. He glanced at Toby, and back at me. A look of immense relief flushed onto his features.

"Oh Gawd, Ah- Ah'm sorry Ah though'chu were cheatin' on me. Fergive me?"

I chuckled at this, and started rubbing his ears.

"Of course. Now, are you coming to bed? I'm getting pretty lonely up there."

He laughed, and we dashed back up the stairs, clothes being torn off on the way. Toby was still raring to go, and resumed pressing up into Meg's fur as she rolled her eyes. Give the guy some credit for trying.

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After Allan had finished, we lay cuddling in bed, the crickets chirping a pleasant evening tune.

"So, Allan? Did you really think that was me down there?"

"Well... yeah. Why's yer brother here anyhow?"

"He's drunk off his arse, and so was she."

"Yeah... who is she?"

"Friend o' mine. From the office."

"Gawd, is there anyone yew won't shack up with?"

"Excuse me!?"

"Didn't mean nothin' by it, just saying."

"I'll forgive you this time, since you didn't kill Toby."

"Sorry abou-Mmf!"

As he pulled back up, I jammed his head further down my length, trying to find some way to get him to stop moping.

"Oh, shush, you. I understand you getting us confused. Now, c'mon, I haven't shot in a week." He grinned, and went to work with vigor, pleased to be back with his love. He was not the only one.

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Three tired faces greeted me at the kitchen table in the morning, and as I set out two fizzing glasses, they groaned in unison. Meg took hers like a shot, Toby sipped his. Allan was half asleep, and I slapped him gently.

"Al, love, you've got to stay awake. Keep these two here and out of trouble while I'm at work. You two, be good, okay?" Toby and Meg nodded. "Good."

I rolled my eyes at their expressions, and walked outside. Allan grabbed an orange from a nearby bowl, and went back to our room, probably to go sleep some more. This left two hungover furs in the kitchen, devoid of anything to say. Toby tried thinking, but the fireworks in his head stopped him. He groaned, and went to go watch TV. Kicking out the leg rest, he lay down in the armchair, put his feet up, and sighed. His paw brushed against something, and he delved into the side of the armchair to find what it was. He lifted it to his eyes, and screamed a silent scream. The unused condom fell from his paw, still in the protective package.

"Oh God, no..."

"Ugh... not so loud. My head hurts plenty without your interference." Meg walked over to where he sat, and saw the look on his face. "Toby, what's up? You... you did want last night to happen, right? Was it good?" Toby just shook his head at his mistake, barely in the conversation. "N-no, you did great..." Megan cocked her head, puzzled. "Toby, what's wr-" She looked on the floor next to him, catching the unmistakable glint of light reflecting off the prophylactic's wrapper. Her eyes stretched wide as she realized what it was, her paw clapping against her mouth. "Oh God... please tell me you used one last night..." He merely shook his head again, shamefacedly. "This was my only one... Gah!" Blood leaked from his mouth as Megan scored a perfectly angled kick, his head slamming against the carpeted floor. Her eyes, normally a pleasant almond colour, seemed to burn like fire as she screamed. "You... you IDIOT! I can't even believe you! How did you forget t- oohhhhh..." She slumped to the ground as her hangover kicked back at her, nearly fainting with the pain. When she had recovered enough to stand, her eyes lost their hatred, now filled with remorse. Fat tears began welling up as she realized the gravity of the situation. "Do you think that I'm...? I mean, we're incompatible species, right? Right?" She lay a paw across her belly, fervently hoping. Toby had gotten up, wiping the crimson from his cheek, he spoke softly, with regret. "I-I am so sorry, Megan. I'm not sure what else to say." What he had said, however, was the wrong thing. Megan's naturally high voice rose further as she vented at him, "You're SORRY!? Do you even know what you've done!? You took advantage of a lonely drunk girl, and may have just gotten me preg-" She choked as she began that word, unable to continue saying it. The tears began streaming from her in copious quantities, prompting Toby to do what he's best at: hug. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her closely. Even he seemed to panic at the thought, but he kept strong. "It'll be alright, Megan..."

"Alright? How!? Toby... we might have a child..." His mind immediately presented him a picture of himself, cradling a blanket wrapped... otter? Mouse? He shook his head, shooing away those thoughts and trying to calm the sobbing girl. Allan, tired of the screams, came trundling downstairs, rolling his eyes. "Fer Gawd's sake, could yew two just shut up?" Two fists, one grey, one brown, thudded into his chest, sending him careening against the couch. Megan and Toby looked at the stunned husky, and back at each other. Despite the mood, Toby chuckled. "We've known each other eleven hours, and we're already fighting like an old couple." Megan tittered at this, but regained her mood quickly. "Heh... Look, Toby, can you drive me to my house? I need to think..."

"Sure."

They walked out of the house, leaving behind one seriously fazed Allan.

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Two Weeks Later...

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A small letter arrived on our doorstep. I opened it up, and promptly panicked. Jabbing my phone like fury, I finally got Toby on the line. "Hey, Luke! What do you want now, I'm very busy!"

I was in no mood for games. "Toby... You need to read this..."

"Read what? And what's wrong with your voice?"

"A letter. It's important."

"How important?"

I took a breath, and said plainly:

"It's about your daughter."

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Yeah, I know, totally rushed that ending section, but you know what? I nearly got my first girlfriend pregnant the same way, and it just flew by in seconds. I write what I know. Let's see... big thanks to Luke Flames for a romantic idea, Rags for being constantly funny, if a bit sarcastic. My brother, Toby, for letting me use him as a character. Xero12 and Oblong Pomegranate for being kickass friends. Your stories are on the way! Angel Fox, Sim, and Jessie Shadowhold, the avatar artists, and biggest hand of all to Allan Hampton. He let me punch him in the chest to see how he'd fall. Questions, comments, dirty secrets? We're all ears here. Thanks y'all!

Jack Hampton