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"Shuttle-pod One, you're cleared for launch." A pause. "Wish I was going," said the voice over the comm. Ketchy's voice.

"I'll take you some pictures," promised Rella. She had brought her holo-camera. Along with the requisite food rations, water bottles, et cetera. Light packing. They would only be gone for twenty-four hours.

"I didn't know you were a photographer."

"I won a prize, once."

"A prize? Yeah? Like, a ribbon or something?"

"A plaque."

"So, are we talking clichéd pretty pictures of bees and flowers? Or actual fine art?"

"Art," Rella insisted, becoming agitated. "I was an artist."

"Was?"

"I didn't have the temperament to stick with it."

"I honestly never thought of you as ... "

" ... girls," interrupted Wren. From the co-pilot's seat. Grooming his mahogany-furred tail, meticulously.

"Aye, sir. Sorry. Have fun," was Ketchy's reply before she cut the channel.

The shuttle-pod descended from the bay, then, beneath the belly of the ship. And, turning, it angled to the planet below, pushing its nose through the upper atmosphere. Luminous had already disappeared, behind them. And ahead? Nothing but clear azure-blue sky. They approached it with engines at full-hum.

"I can't stand flying these things. They're so temperamental," Rella muttered. Eyes dancing over the controls. She sighed. Turning to her superior officer. "Don't suppose you'd like to try?"

"No, thanks."

"What? And you, a captain? Thought most captains began as flyboys. Rough and tumble risk-takers, flying by their fur. Until the harshness of life tamed them and reigned them in, putting them on the command track. Thought that was how it worked," Rella teased. Eyes shining as they looked out the window.

"Just find us a good landing spot."

"I planned on it." Her blunt-clawed, furred fingers flew over the controls, making slight adjustments. Manipulating the rear thrusters. Adjusting the angle of their descent.

"Anyway, to answer your question, I love ships. I'm just not a tech-head. I'm more into the presence, the personas ... "

"You anthropomorphize them."

"What?"

"Don't tell me you failed basic language, too?"

He made a face. "I'm just saying, with ships, it's more about their essence, their aura. I'm not a nuts and bolts fur. It's all that math lurking beneath the surface, I think. I hate math."

"Well, hopefully, we're not attacked by quadratic equations, cause we'll be up a creek ... " The computer gave a few trilling sounds. Beep-a-beep. Ba-beep. She tapped some buttons.

"What's this about art?" he eventually asked.

"I used to be creative, I guess. But that was years ago."

He tilted his head, angular ears cocking. "What changed?"

A hesitation. "I'm too competitive. I don't take critique well. I'm much better at fighting than communicating."

"I think you're exaggerating." He put his paw to hers.

She clasped it, smiling wordlessly.

"Rella, I'm sorry it's been taking so long for me ... " He trailed off, before continuing, " ... for, uh, me to ... "

" ... I understand, Wren."

He nodded quietly. "It's hard to be a captain's mate."

"So, you think you're sparing me? It's hard to be anyone's mate. I'm a tough cookie. I want the job, and I can handle it. You know I can." Making eye contact. "You don't have to protect me from yourself."

"I know." A pause. "But most furs aren't chief of security ... "

"Ah." A breath. Her whiskers twitched. "You might have to order me into danger? I might die, and ... "

" ... don't say that. Please."

"I'm trying to let you know that I understand."

"It's more than that, though," Wren said, as the pod approached some white clouds. Punched into them, through them, and then quickly out. They had to let go of each other's paws so Rella could activate the forward thrusters, to prepare them for a level approach.

"That's my favorite part of landing," she told him. "Going through clouds."

"Why?" A blink.

"The anticipation. The surprise. Like when you open a gift? The clouds part, slip away, and ... " Her eyes glowed. " ... you never know what's gonna be on the other side." She sat up straighter. "There it is," she whispered. The land was green. Verdant. Pristine. It went on forever. "Why hasn't this place been colonized, again ... "

"Apparently, there's a pollen native to every continent. When the wind carries it and you breathe it in? You start to go insane. There's no known suppressant."

"What? Are you serious?" She sat up straighter. "You think this would've been a good piece of information for your chief of security to know?" Raising her voice.

"Relax. Symptoms only occur after long-term exposure. We'd have to be down there for a week to start losing our heads." That's what Kody had told him, anyway. Hopefully, the rabbit wasn't yanking his chain.

"Comforting." A frown. "Almost hesitant to land, now," she said, under her breath. "It looks so beautiful, though." A pause, half-joking, "What if I crush something that's going to evolve into a sentient species when I land?"

"Don't think that'll happen." He nodded. "We both know you have a gentle touch," he teased. He knew this from their recent kiss.

"Only when I want to," she teased.

A smile from the male squirrel. Leaning back. "So, I've been wondering. Being a security officer, do you have settings? Like phase pistols do?"

"Why, what setting do you want me on, now?" Rella smiled, devilishly, paws flying, dancing so skillfully, angling the pod, maneuvering it into a clearing. She stole quick glances at Wren between adjustments. And, finally, "Hold on ... "

The pod shuddered as it set down. For several seconds. And then a ka-clunk! And whir-whir-whir, the engines de-powering.

Wren lurched forward. Paws bracing himself against the forward console. "Whew."

"What do you know? I guess I'm set to 'vibrate' ... "

He laughed, biting his lip.

" ... shall we go for a stroll?" she asked. "Check this place out?"

A certain nod from Wren, already leaving his seat to gather their supplies. Backpacks and kits and all that. "Sounds like a plan."

They'd been walking for thirty minutes in bare foot-paws, and the pod was fading from view. The breeze was slight but sensual. Enough to ruffle their fur and move their tails a bit.

Rella spread her arms wide. Her canteen of water jiggling against her side. "Isn't this lovely? I know I volunteered to live in space, but I do miss it," she said.

"The sun?"

"Well, sunlight, air. Grass, flowers, trees. Um ... " She shifted the backpack she had on. Wearing her uniform, but a tank-top version of it. And what looked to be a sports bra underneath. "I would say we need to reach the tree-line."

He offered no denial. Only asked, "Why'd we land so far out in the clearing, then? If we were just gonna have to walk all this way?"

"I wanted the exercise. A good scamper never hurt anybody."

"Seriously?" Wren sighed, scrunching his face.

"I guess I could've landed a little closer to the forest."

"Yeah," he grumbled. And then took a deep breath, thinking for a moment. "You know, I always wondered how 'scamper' got attached to our species. Why not scurry?"

"Cause mouses scurry. That's one of their trademarks. Can't infringe upon that."

"No, we'd get nibbled to death."

She chittered, stretching. "Funny. Anyway, a long walk ... "

" ... scamper," he corrected, cheekily. "Hey, you started it."

" ... long scamper, yes," she repeated, "gives us time to talk and get to know each other better." She smiled warmly, feeling this was one of those moments. One of those moments when she should stop, grab him, and kiss him. Out here in the open air. Sun and flowers everywhere. Do it, do it , do it, do ...

" ... it should stay light for a few more hours, I bet," said Wren.

"Yeah," she agreed, quietly, controlling herself. For now.

"When we get there, I'll collect the weeds and grasses, and any plants of medicinal value. You can get the flowers and leaves."

"I think Azure will have a fine time cataloguing these." Azure was a squirrel, too. The ship's botanist. Expert on plants and fauna. "I bet many of these have never been seen by furs before. Maybe some of them can be spliced and ... we can grow them onboard? Make hybrids."

"Well, Kody needs them, too. To see if he can synthesize new medicines ... "

" ... yes. I know." A pause. "I've been thinking," Rella said, changing the subject off of Kody, adjusting her pack again, "that the mess hall could do with a bit more hominess. You know? Flowers in vases on the tables. A bit of music. I mean, open up the kitchen so we can see the boiling pots and hanging pans, and make it more comfortable. We have to eat so many of our meals in there ... "

"Is that your professional opinion?" the captain asked. Smiling at her, boyishly.

"Yes. All my opinions are professional."

"Ah ... "

She scanned the horizon. "Those are some hilly hills out there. See 'em?"

"Hilly hills?" A raised brow.

"Right there."

" ... yeah. Just sounded funny, is all," he told her.

"A little alliteration never hurt anyone."

Wren giggle-squeaked. "Suppose not. But Field's the writer. Not me. You'll have to ask him."

"Field's a writer?"

"Yeah ... " A soft pause. " ... he's very artistic, too. He just keeps it to himself, because he thinks no one cares. Thinks he has nothing to say. Maybe you should talk to him about it. As a fellow artist."

"Like I said, I gave it up. I've moved on." A pause. "I gotta add, though, and I hope you don't mind me saying this ... "

" ... you don't think he's fit to be first officer?"

"I think he's ... well, no. Honestly. I love him. He's a great mouse, and I'm really happy for him and Adelaide, but if you're incapacitated? If you're taken out of commission during a fight, then command will fall to him. I don't know how comfortable that makes me. Really, Wren. I imagine he'd wilt under those circumstances."

"You don't know him like I do." Very quiet as he said this.

"No, I don't." A hesitation. Maybe she shouldn't ask, but, "Just how well do you know him?"

"He's my best friend," Wren replied, evasively.

"It's obvious you care about him a great deal. I saw it in sickbay, when we had that human onboard."

"Just ask me ... " A little bit of pain in his voice. "Get it over with?"

"You've, uh ... 'been' with him, haven't you?" Phrasing it politely.

A heavy sigh. And a nod. "Yeah. I have." Whiskers twitching. He stopped walking.

"And Kody, too?"

"And Kody, too."

She didn't seem terribly surprised.

A head-shake. "I'm sorry ... "

She, also stopping, put a paw on his cheek. "Hey. What for? Look, I don't care if you're bi."

His eyes darted to the side, and then back to hers. "You don't?" He sounded surprised.

"Of course not." A pause. "Is that why Field's our first officer?" Her paw lowered from his cheek. To his chest. "Because you love him?"

Fidgeting, replying lamely, "I, uh, just wanted him in a safe place. Where I could keep an eye on him. He's so innocent ... " It wasn't even close to a denial.

"Well, Adelaide's keeping an eye on him, now. And doing a pretty stellar job, from what I've gathered."

"I know. She's very good for him." A quiet nod. "But he's still my first officer, regardless. I'm not gonna argue about it," Wren insisted.

"I trust your judgment," Rella breathed. "If you say he's fit for the job, then he is. And Kody, too." She breathed inward through her nose.

No response.

"I think it's touching, really," Rella continued. "It just shows me how passionate you really are."

A sigh. "Rella ... "

" ... thank you for telling me about all this. I know that was hard."

A weak, vulnerable nod. " ... no one else on the ship knows. Except Kody and Field, of course, and Adelaide. Because of her telepathy."

"I won't tell anyone." Barely audible. Nose to nose. Forehead to forehead. "But whatever feelings you have, and whatever history? You shouldn't be ashamed of it. The crew won't think differently of you."

"Maybe not."

"You also have a future. And I want that future to involve me. You know that, right?"

"I do ... " A shaky exhale. "You've made that clear."

"Let me reemphasize it for you ... " Her lips pressing to his, hungrily, opening wide, and coming together again. In a kiss. Pulling back with a saliva-stringed smack.

Wren, suddenly light-headed, asked, "Uh ... you sure you're not just gunning for a promotion?"

"Who'd run tactical in my absence?" A hazy smile.

"Don't know ... "

" ... you taste sweet," she teased, taking hold of his paw and tugging him forward. Their tails, as they went, were buffeted by the breeze.

"Can't say anyone's ever told me that," commented Wren.

"Why not?" was her whisper, her arm swinging. Taking his along, forward and back.

Their eyes locked. The arms stopped.

"Hmm?" she pressed.

"I don't know. I'm intense. Intensity isn't laced with sugar."

"Maybe on the job, in a command situation, it's not," Rella observed. "But those situations don't define you. We're not our jobs."

He wasn't so sure about that.

When they reached the tree-line, Rella craned her neck. Letting her backpack slip off one shoulder and to the ground. A sigh, rubbing her neck and standing on the tips of her foot-paws, then suddenly reaching upward. "I feel I could just disperse." A whole-body arch.

"Like, float away? If you did that, I'd have a hard time chasing after you," Wren warned. "You and your molecules. Traveling like dust."

"Become the wind, then. Steer me with your breath."

"The wind can be cold."

She smiled. And, yeah, she knew she'd been doing that way too much since they'd landed. But who the hell cared? It felt good. They were speaking in poetry now. Speaking in hopelessly romantic ways in lush grass, beneath trees that were rustling, whispering to them. She finally replied to his last words with, "Can't it also be warm? Can't it be affected by certain factors?"

"Such as?"

"Wide-eyed wonder. Tenderness. Love."

"Nature heeds no emotions. It only inspires them."

"It must feel, though, surely. Even on an elemental level. In order to sprout such flowers," she breathed, nodding around them. At the blues and the purples. The violets. "Beauty comes from feeling."

"Beauty is subjective."

"But that's good, right? Can it be anything else? Beauty is tied to meaning, and meaning is tied to faith, and God made nature, and God is love, and ... therefore, beauty is love, and love is always subjective. That's what makes it great."

"We're getting far beyond my capacity for debate," Wren told her, shyly. "Um ... I'm not a philosopher. I don't even know what you just said."

"You saying you don't believe it?"

"Believe what?"

"In God, in beauty. In Fate," she repeated.

"I believe in good things. And big ideas," he whispered. "I just don't know how to talk about them."

"Then let's not talk," she urged, with a sudden steaminess. Pressing to him. Her arms smoothly wrapping and locking round his back. A hug, in other words. And a deep breath. "Maybe you just need your tongue untied. I can do that. I was trained to get out of ... mm-h, s-situations ... "

He hugged her back, easily. On returned impulse. She was up against his chest, snugly, and it felt so nice. Like how he couldn't describe. He'd never held a female like this before. And the scent of her shampooed fur. It made him salivate.

"W-what are you waiting for ... "

" ... nothing, I guess," Wren replied. Swallowing.

"No one's here," she told him. Nose on his neck. Muzzle parting to whisper beneath his angular, swiveling ear. The left ear. "Wren ... "

A sudden nervousness. " ... uh. What about the samples ... "

"You're thinking too much. We can do that in the morning. Not a lot's riding on this mission. I don't think whatever we find is gonna cure the common cold. You wanna know what I think? You could've assigned anyone else to come down here with me, but you came yourself. Don't you dare tell me you didn't want this to happen." And, with that, the words finally stopped. She was all over him, insistently. Her breaths coming at a bit of a stagger.

He licked his dry lips. And moved in, then, for a kiss. Sweet and soft.

Her eyes closed and her neck craned upward.

Wren's paws went to the bottom of her tank-top, lifting the fabric, pulling it up. It was sticking to her fur. She'd started to sweat during the long walk. And from her arousal. But, oh, her pelt shimmered in the late-afternoon sunlight as he exposed it. The richest red-brown. Mahogany, more specifically.

Arms raised, she turned her head. Saw her tank top fluttering to the grass.

He stared at her breasts, paws on her bra. Tugging.

"Never taken one of these off before?" she teased, gently.

Flushing, he shook his head. " ... no."

"Not that hard. Before we continue, though, I suppose I should ask ... " Tugging at his collar. Whispering something, something. Something. " ... mm?"

"Only on the holo-suite," was his bashful reply.

"Thought so. Would you like the real thing?"

A certain, squeaky nod. "Very much. Please."

"Mine?"

"Yours. Rella ... "

" ... my what?"

"Teasing the captain can get you thrown in the brig." Panting, audibly. His bushy tail unfurling like a furry flag. It was a glorious tail. Squirrels took extreme pride in their fluffy appendages. Wren was no exception. And, in fact, had unconsciously extended it to further attract Rella. An innate mating maneuver.

"I'm the chief of security," she replied, sucking on his neck. Dampening a spot o' fur. "I have the access codes to the brig. I'll just let myself out. So. Mm-h ... mm, my what?"

"Oh, you ... your pussy." He burned. "There. Happy?"

"Well, since you asked nicely ... " She pirouetted around, leaning back. And he immediately wrapped her up in his arms, removing the bra. Tossing it behind their heads. It was soon joined by his own uniform-shirt. Her pants. His briefs. Her panties. Everything. His and hers, in a very haphazard pile. And, afterward, he turned her back around, belly to belly. Looking down.

He was a few inches taller. And he daintily moved to kiss her forehead. And further down to kiss her nose.

She giggle-squeaked at this.

There was a pause.

"Go on," she urged, nosing his neck. "Go on ... " Her whisper was gentle. Not at all teasing. Not at all callous. But gentle and loving.

So, he sidled a bit down, kissing and gently suck-sucking at her neck-fur. Leaving little wet spots of his own. Returning the favor. Massaging her sides. He wanted so badly to step back and admire her body, the whole profile, up and down. The only problem was: he couldn't pull away. He was stuck to her like a magnet. Such was his desire.

She nodded, licking her lips as he bent his knees. Her paws moving to his shoulders. She pushed.

And his whiskery muzzle brushed over the mounds of her breasts. Around, around, indirectly ending up at a nipple. Tongue flitting tentatively before an eventual, outright nursing.

"Oh ... " Her breath left her. And her paws cradled the back of Wren's head, holding him to her loose, hanging bosom.

Suckling incessantly, now. A bit harder, and ...

" ... e-eh. Heh. Watch those buckteeth ... careful." A heavy, squeaky sigh.

Eventually, he slipped off the nipple. And stood up straight, again, mumbling against her cheek, " ... I'm nervous. I know I'm a captain, and we're not allowed to be that, but ... "

" ... well, neither are security officers. But I'm nervous, too. It's normal. It takes time."

"Time to what?"

"To learn how to be vulnerable with someone."

"Well, we have time," he breathed. "Don't we?"

"Plenty." A definite nod, pushing him all the way down, this time. And soon following. Both of them falling, swooning, 'til she was on her back in the grass. Wren on his knees between her legs, his thumb rubbing at the top of her furry folds with an exploratory reverence. Fishing for her clitoris.

"Am I doing this right ... "

" ... I'll let you know if you aren't." Many chitters.

And he dropped to all fours, kissing her again with a playful growl.

"Mm ... closet predator?" she asked, between smacks.

"No. You just bring out the animal in me." Another lip-lock. The kiss was so succulent. Sweet. Just like before. Soft squirrel kisses, over and over. Oh, she loved them. Loved him. And would. Every hour here.

He slid into a more horizontal position, now, finally.

"Going with the tried an' true classic, huh?"

"I wanna kiss and hug you while we do this ... "

"It was meant it as a compliment," she assured, pulling at him, knees bent, legs opening and falling apart.

What happened next was a bashful, instinctive blur, as he passionately mated her like an animal on the forest floor. With energy, vitality. Just enough control to keep it civil. All she could do was hold on, hitching to him like a tree-trunk, hump, hump, hump. Squeaking with growing intensity, the both of them. The sounds getting lost in the branches of the observing trees. Darkness fell. The sun set. Dusk straddled them and their private, little world.

Muffled cry. And a sigh.

A gasp.

Squelching noises from their point of union.

A paw, one of his paws reaching past her and clutching at grass. "Uh. Uh-n ... " A final hip-movement. Back and ... forth! Forth! Grinding. " ... h-huh! AH!" There. Oh. He shuddered and went limp, licking her lips through his dizziness. Sowing his seeds in forceful spurts.

Her walls, in turn, besieged with shudders, clamping down, milking. Good vibrations sent throughout her entire body. Making her whine. " ... mm-h. Mm!" Belly raising.

He pushed her back down.

" ... mm."

And he laid his forehead against hers. Both of them matted with sweat.

" ... oh, my gosh," she breathed, after what seemed like a whole minute. "If it wasn't clear, I ... I love you ... "

"I got the message," Wren mumbled. "I love you, too."

She reached behind him and held to the 'bob' of his tail. That curling top part. Stroking the fur.

Wren closed his eyes, laying atop of her. Hearing crickets. Or what sounded like crickets. "We should probably make a little fire. Before it gets pitch black."

"Didn't we already?" was her smiling whisper.

He let out an airy giggle. Popping the question, smoothly (as if it wasn't already decided). "Mates?"

" ... mates," she breathed.

He rolled off of her, onto his back, staring upward. Everything felt different, now. It was so hard to define. So, he didn't try. He just pulled her closer and didn't let go.