FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

All characters in this story are figments of my imagination. Any resemblance to real persons or other fictional characters not owned by me is purely coincidence. Trust me... I'm really not all that well read.

The only exception, so far, is "Chris". He is a part of my multifaceted Fursona.

Also, all business names and brand names used in the story are there for purely immersion purposes! No sponsorship or product placement is going on here. PLEASE don't sue me for writing this... I don't have anything to pay you with anyway...

This story is set in a fictional depiction of the real world. Real locations are used.

For a vague description of the past, and how the world evolved to it's current state, please read the Intro and Prelude chapter...

Chapter 4

How can someone be expected to sleep after having their entire world turned crazy on them? One moment you're on top of the world. Finally gaining enough confidence to push beyond the restricting confines of your personal security bubble. Taking a risk and finding a girl that's not only amazingly beautiful, but also happens to like you in return. Learning that you are worth something, and everyone else can shove any other opinion into some uncomfortable and sensitive places.

Then you wake up and you're not the right gender, you're being (sort of) molested by a lesbian, and she might know who raped you and how. It wasn't the sort of thing that Chris would normally think of unless he had a certain 'task in paw' to deal with. This time it was all too real. Painfully real. He wanted to get rid of whatever was going on with his body, and for some reason that made his heart _ hurt _. He didn't know why, but he certainly needed to find out.

His morning shower was cut short before he could wash his hair. Hearing a crashing and banging sound from the kitchen, he investigated. By the time he got dressed and got out there, he only caught a glimpse of Karina's tail slipping out the door, and heard the voice of her ex from the night before. The reminder of what he'd seen them doing in his living room made him growl. He stopped by the kitchen on the way to the living room, grabbing a can of citrus scented Febreeze. As expected, the room smelled heavily of weed and booze. What looked like all of Karina's remaining liquor was empty and littered about the floor, as well as the last of Chris's coolers. Great, another later of bitter icing on the wonderfully frustrating morning cake he was having.

He took some time to give a liberal spray-down of everything in the living room, before opening the balcony door to air it out. The stale smell of weed and sex was a lot harder to mask than the booze. Satisfied that he might be able to sit down without gagging half to death, he spent some time on his computer, trying to unwind. About half an hour of talking to various people on messengers and Facebook turned into a bit of gaming. Mostly Minecraft, hoping that his creative drive would kick in and he'd zone out for a while. No deal. Still frustrated. Instead, he checked G-Talk again, hoping a few people might be on.

His day finally brightened a little. One of the very few people he grew to consider a true friend happened to be online at the moment. Cathy, a passionate little uber-geek Tanuki (like a neko, but replacing the feline traits with that of a raccoon) from Portugal. They had probably talked about almost everything from their love lives, to childhoods, to self-diagnosed psychological issues. Without hesitation, he opened a window with her and started to type.

Chris: Hey. What's up? You're not usually on this early. Or "late" I guess. It's like... Noon-ish, your time?

Cathy: Yep, something like that! I had an early thing to do and went to bed a lot earlier than usual. But you wouldn't have known that because you didn't come online last night. BOOO!

Chris: Haha. Sorry. I had stuff to deal with. Life is interesting after you get assaulted in a bathroom at work and can't remember the details, causing you to develop a mental disorder that renders you incapable of worry or fear of consequences.

Cathy: LOL sounds fun. Not the attack. That was bad stuff. I mean the mental thing. Not worrying about anything might be a good thing.

Chris: Not when it just makes you over-analyze things, ending with you getting VERY confused when stuff goes really weird.

Cathy: Oh eek very not fun.

Chris: I know, right? Oh well. What's up? Why the early morning?

Cathy: Actually, I have very good news. Do you remember that job listing you linked to me a few weeks ago? The program analyst for that web-security company in your city?

Chris: I do, vaguely. Did they finally get back to you?

Cathy: They sent me an email a few days after I applied. I've been putting together example code and job stuff for a portfolio to send them, and got that to them about a week ago. I kinda' poked at their back doors and stuff to leave it on the desktop of their personnel manager.

Chris: ROFL nice! Very cool. So they're gonna' hire you from here? While you're in Portugal? Like some sorta' Dropbox correspondence thing?

Cathy: Not exactly. They don't want their code to get online until the programs are finished and encrypted.

Chris: Oh, bummer. So no go then?

Cathy: ... Not exactly. They told me a week ago that they wanted me to apply for a work visa, and move to Canada.

Chris: Hahaha, how did that go?

Cathy: I just got it in the mail today. I guess the British Commonwealth thing between England and Canada is useful. I can use that visa to work in Canada without any big problems. I just need to apply for a Canadian one specifically if I want to stay there after the first year.

Chris: ... Wait. Holy shit. You're moving to Canada?

Cathy: I'm moving to Fredericton. I just need to find a cheap place to live first. Can you help me?

This news floored him. Almost literally. One paw had just fetched a Pepsi bottle from his stash under his desk (not cold but at this point he didn't care), and was about to open it when he read that part. The resulting shock made him fumble the bottle, causing it to fizz out all over his chest and stomach. Sticky Pepsi fur was definitely not a good thing! He didn't bother with it for now. He was too excited!

Chris: HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT. Of course! Anything you need! Crash here for a while if you need.

Chris: Wait, shit. Karina got her druggy lump of an ex over here last night... I'll find out if that's gonna' be a permenant thing.

Chris: Permanent, rather. Typo. :/

Cathy: LOL it's okay. I have a few weeks before they want me to have a place lined up. I'm super excited!

Chris: Well, shit, so am I now too! And I bet your lovely down in AMURICA is too! ;3

Cathy: LOL yes. She told me to threaten you if you didn't help me.

Chris: No need for threats. It'll be good to have a real friend around here for once. Someone I'm not paranoid about them being fake or playing with my head. Too much of that around here and Walmart.

Cathy: Oh eek that's not good.

Cathy: So what's up for you?

Chris: Actually about to go take another shower. When you said you were moving here I totally soaked myself with Pepsi by mistake. ROFL. XD

Cathy: Oh no! LOL! Go go go! Get clean! Sticky fur is VERY VERY BAD! :(

Chris: Hahaha, I know, right? Goopy sugar drink is bad for me in so many ways. AFK!

Cathy: Okay! :)

Maybe things would start looking up. With the support of someone like Cathy, there wasn't a damn thing he couldn't figure out. He also didn't want to confront Lana and the mystery girl she mentioned while he was solo on this mission. Then he'd just look like a creep. Maybe it was best to bide time for now? Yes. A good plan. Nodding his head, he wandered back into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes and stepping back into the shower.

It turned out to be a long one. Most of the time spent soaking in the heat, letting the steam dizzy his brain a little so he could think more clearly. By the time he got out and dried off, his fur was so soaked from his efforts to clean out the Pepsi that he had to blow-dry himself for nearly twenty minutes before he could get dressed. Of course, as was common for his luck, bad things came in threes. First, his strange night. Second, the tedium of blow-drying himself. Third, when he left the bathroom, a drunken brown mouse with ratty hair and the stench of weed lingering in his fur stumbled into him.

"... Woah..." is all he managed to blubber out, before sliding by Chris (and against him, gross) into the bathroom. Chris took a moment to think about what just happened. The mouse was Karina's ex, Shane. He used to be an intelligent university student until Karina broke up with him six or eight months ago. The next time he saw him he was barely able to stand through his drunken daze, yet he was still determined enough to light up his joint on the seventh or eighth try.

He'd have none of this. The smell coming from the mouse meant their antics from the night before continued when they got back not too long ago, even after Chris's protest when he found them last night. He stomped out into the living room, leaving the mouse to do whatever it was he was doing. By the sounds coming through the bathroom door, it wasn't pleasant.

"Karina!" he called as he stepped into the living room. One glance at the couch, and he looked away. She was half-sprawled on the cushions, her top unbuttoned, not wearing a bra. Chest all out on display for anybody who walked in to see. Her pants were on the floor, and she had one paw stuffed down her panties, rubbing at herself by the looks of it, as the other lifted a newly blazed joint to her lips to take a puff. After hearing him call to her, she quickly pulled her paw away from her crotch, and tugged her shirt closed. Glaring up at him, she growled out a few words.

"Coulda' _ knocked first _ you asshole..."

"On what? The fucking wall? This is the living room!" He scowled, shaking his head. Looking back at her, he made a gesture at the already open liquor bottle on the coffee table. "What the hell is that? Aren't you pickled enough from the shit you had last night? It took me like half an hour to get the stink outta' the room."

"Oh screw off! I'm an adult! I can do what I want." she barked back at him, buttoning her shirt and groping along the floor for her pants.

"Oh yeah? Well why don't you start acting like it then? Responsibility is usually the first step to proving you're capable of being an independently functioning adult. I'm not seein' that right now."

By this time, Shane came back out of the bathroom. Chris had to give him some credit for bravery as he stuck up for Karina.

"Hey, man. Back off... She's twenty or over. She can drink whenever she wants." he scolded, wagging a finger at Chris, who scowled at him and shook his head.

"Yes. Legally she can drink. And as much as I don't really give a shit that she wants to do drugs or whatever with you, I don't want that shit in my living room."

"_ Your _ living room? _ Excuse _ me?" she yelled at him, pushing to stand now that her pants were back on. "You came here to live with _ me _! Not the other way around!"

"Yeah, and my name's on the lease now. I pay rent. I pay bills. I live here. I pay half your fucking gas money. Don't you preach to me about apartment superiority! This is a two-way street."

Shane piped in again, this time from the other side of the now nearly-furious cheetah. The mouse had balls, that was for sure.

"Don't yell at her, man! She can make her own choices! Screw what you think!" Again with the scolding and wagging of his little mousey finger at Chris. He didn't know how pissed off the cheetah was getting.

Chris had enough of that really fast. One paw snapped upward to grab at Shane's finger, bending it backward painfully. The mouse squeaked out in pain, bending backward as Chris pushed the grip, looming in toward the little rodent.

"Keep your filthy finger outta' my face, and get the fuck outta' my apartment."

"Don't tell him what to do!" barked Karina, her arm in mid-swing with an empty liquor bottle. She was aiming for Chris. Her goal was the shoulder, or his arm, but in her slurred state, her aim was a little off.

_ THUNK. _

The bottle cracked as it slammed against the side of Chris's head, sending him reeling backward away from them both. One paw reached up to hold where he'd been struck, throat locked in a furious growl. Karina knew she'd made a very very bad mistake. She dropped the bottle and made talking flappy movements with her lips, but Chris wasn't sure what she said. He couldn't hear anything yet, his head was still spinning. The she-wolf had quite a swing. The fact that Shane made a quick exit from the apartment spoke a lot about what she demanded.

When his hearing finally came back, and he could see straight, he stood up to stare her down.

"... Fuck this. I'm done. You have two choices..." he started, and she dared to interrupt.

"Screw you! You had that one comin'!" she barked, growling at him in defiance.

"Nope. This is how this is gonna' go, so shut the fuck up and listen." His tone was deep, serious, and on the edge. A tone he'd never ever taken with... well, pretty much anybody. His former mindset was usually one of pacifism and non-conflict, but whatever was going on with his head had changed that. At least for now. She backed down, feeling a little bit of genuine fear now that he was acting like the predatory animal he was supposed to be.

"... I know he's poor as fuck, and you didn't have any weed in the house, so that makes me think you went out and bought some. You have one week to pack your shit up and get the fuck out, or I call a friend of mine online, huge Anon troll, once hacked into the GPS on my phone and told me where I was and where I'd been during the day. He'll find where you went, and then I'll call the cops. I don't need to implicate you. Just calling in an anonymous tip that there's a seller somewhere is enough. You're the last customer." He paused, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. His cold demeanor starting to get the better of him. He didn't like being this way, but it was very difficult to push it all back right now.

"Your two choices are move out, or I call the cops."

"... You wouldn't..." she whined, looking up at him with obvious tears in her eyes.

He wasn't bothered by the sight one little bit.

"Why not? You just attacked me. I could charge you with assault, too, if you'd like." Another pause, and he glanced at the calendar on the wall. "You have by the end of the week. Friday, I want you out. If I see your shit here on Saturday after I get home from work, you're fucked. Not the good way, though you'd probably like that. The bad way, with cops and a criminal record."

The last comment made her growl again. Pushing to stand, she stomped toward the apartment door. She stopped for a few seconds, shuffling near the door, trying to think of something to say. The cold stare he gave her before she could manage to speak said more than enough.

"... Fuck you... Heartless bastard..." Her voice was quivering as her paw jerked open the door to let herself out. Perhaps one of the last few times she'd ever leave.

* * *

It was lunch time, but Corsi couldn't figure out what she wanted. She'd already been at work for just over four hours, and wanted to get something satisfying. Where did she go? McDonalds, of course. Fast, filling, and gave you that "greasy stomach" feeling that made you not want to eat for the rest of the day. Perfect. She didn't get much, just a chicken nugget meal.

When she sat down to eat, something felt off. Usually she had some jerk of a boyfriend to sit here with her and tell her how cool he was, or how she shouldn't eat the fries because she'd get fat. In the end, she decided it wasn't a bad feeling to sit here without that kind of harassment. Finally she was being left alone, to do what she wanted. It just felt... alone...

"So, god, what are we going to do about him? He knows something!" said a girl from somewhere behind her. She was trying to whisper. Badly.

She heard people talking just around the corner. They couldn't see her, but when someone tries to whisper that badly, it was hard for her feline ears not to focus on it.

"Chris won't figure anything out, as long as you don't say anything else. Stop talking about it." the girl's friend warned, sounding much more calm and collected about whatever they were worried about.

"Jeez'... I just wish he wasn't so hot after the change... So good at... things..." the first girl mumbled again, almost whining.

Chris? This was a conversation she needed to pay more attention to. She'd been honestly missing him over the last few days. The short amount of time she spent with him made her really wish he was around more. Not only did he tickle an itch that she'd been craving for the longest time that night, but the way he talked to her... the way he looked at her. In those few moments, those few things he said, gave her such a surge of self-worth. Something the other 'men' she'd been with seemed to want to burn away with insults or expectations.

"Oh my god Lana! I told you not to talk about that. You know how I feel about that kind of thing, as a Follower."

"I know, Candie. I know. You remind me every time we talk about anything that isn't made of sunshine or fluffy bunnies. God sure doesn't want you to have any fun, does he?"

"Stop. Now you're just being rude. Just because you took advantage of him once, doesn't mean you'll get away with it again."

Corsi almost choked on her water. Did she just hear that? She quickly stuffed her phone back into her purse and stood up to leave. Garbage abandoned on the table. Turning, she made sure to walk by the table to make sure she could see who was talking. When she saw the faces, she knew she wasn't hallucinating. Candie and Lana, sitting at the table, having a normal McDonalds meal together. With a casual wave, she passed by, quickly making her way toward the break room. She'd have to tell him about this. Along the way, she pulled out her cell phone.

* * *

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. By the time the sound of Shane's car faded away he realized that he may have overreacted a little bit. The damage was done and he wasn't going to worry about it now. He'd just have to watch out for his temper in the future. This did, however, open up an opportunity. If Karina followed through with her only logical decision, he'd need to find a new roommate.

He settled back down at his computer and opened up a messaging window with Cathy again.

Chris: Still around?

Cathy: Yep! Did you avoid getting sticky? :P

Chris: Fortunately yes. Howerver there was a bunch of drama with my roommate. :/

Cathy: Oh ack. Everything okay?

Chris: It will be.

Cathy: Well, that's good.

Chris: Yeah. She brought her old ex around again. Smoked up and trashed the living room. I don't really care what she does with herself or him as long as it's in the privacy of her own room, y'know?

Cathy: Yeah. Understandable.

Chris: Even after warning them last night when I saw them getting high on my couch. Pissed me off...

Chris: Yeah... Anywho. TL;DR version: After some cleaning and fumigating, I have a room available if you want a place to stay. I'll need the help with rent.

The time it took her to reply to the offer probably should have made him worry. For a moment, he considered what might be going on, on the other side of the world where Cathy was right now. Maybe she had other ideas in mind? Maybe she just wasn't comfortable with it? Maybe she already set herself up with a place? He didn't know. He just waited. After about a minute, he finally got his answer.

Cathy: Oh, wow, really? I mean, are you sure? That'd be great though! As long as I won't disturb you or anything, don't wanna get in the way of anything! Is it really ok?

Chris: Hahaha. Yeah. If anything you'll be the one disturbed. You're only like... 15% fur, right? You'll probably hate me next time I get the flu. Shedding isn't fun.

Cathy: LOL!!! Yeah, I heard rumors about that really sucking, but it's fine, really!

Chris: Luckily yes, it is fine. I don't really have the thickest of fur, so it's easily resolved with one of those hand-vac things. Just a pain in the ass, lol.

Cathy: See? Everything works out then, no problems at all. :D

Chris: Yep! Got flight plans sorted out yet? How long do I have to get your room ready?

Cathy: I found one as early as Monday. Six days!

He took a moment to look around the immediate area. His computer desk was cluttered, the kitchen could use a scrubbing, but wasn't that bad. Living room was trashed. Total disaster zone. He didn't even dare look into Karina's room, which would soon be Cathy's. Not yet. Maybe later.

Chris: Cool. She's gone by Saturday... Sunday and Monday to clean up the place so I don't feel like a slob when you get here. It's best you discover that part in time. >.>

Cathy: I'm sure it's not that bad. :P But hey, I guess I can help with that too if it's true! lol

Chris: Haha, true. Oh well. How long is the flight?

Cathy: Just over 10 hours. It says the flight is at 8:45 am, arrival in Fredericton at 7:00 PM.

Chris: Oh, cool. Okay. Well, lemme' give you my address first, just to avoid the badness if I completely forget or have work or something.

It only took a few more minutes to hammer out the last few details. He assumed the work Visa meant she could get around if she needed to, so the pressure of being there to pick her up wasn't necessary. This was fitting together too well. Something had to balance this out somewhere. Or maybe this was the balancing factor for Karina's bullshit? He couldn't be sure.

Cathy: Thanks you so much! I should be there next week!

Chris: It's no problem. For serious. I'm kinda' almost as excited as you are.

Cathy: Probably not! But yay! XD

Cathy: Time to start packing and spend some time with my mother. Fun!

Chris: Hahaha. Alrighty. Have fun.

With the conversation wrapped up, he decided it was time to do some gaming and bring his mood back up from the weird and eventful day. Just as he'd gotten settled and kicked his feet up, preparing to help the "inFAMOUS" Cole zap even more enemies into submission, his phone started to go crazy on the coffee table.

"Seriously?" he asked himself, scowling at his phone. When would he be given a chance to sit back and get some real gaming done? Grabbing his phone, he checked the number. Corsi? What did she want? He wasn't expecting to hear from her at all. Not today anyway. Though he did note some sort of boyish excitement swell up inside of his chest. The girl that didn't quite get away. The hot one. His greatest achievement. She was calling him back. After three rings, he answered.

"Hola? Quien habla?" Even that much was a stretch for his knowledge of the Spanish language.

"Huh'? Oh god, Chris. I thought someone else had your phone!" he heard Corsi say from the other side. She didn't sound amused though. Something must be wrong.

"Hah, you know me. Secretly Spanish. Manly Mexican Cheetah... What's up?" He felt like a dork now, and rightfully so. The slow sigh of exasperation was his sign to shut up and listen.

"I need to talk to you. Now. I'm at work, on break, and I just left McDonald's." she said quickly, and he could hear her breathing a little quickly. She must be rushing somewhere. Or away from something or someone.

"Woah, what's up? You sound like it's some sort of emergency or something." Hearing her tone, he say up and put his serious face back on. Cole could wait.

"I just heard a couple people here talking about your... incident."

"... Which one? I'm kinda' walking on broken glass at work right now." he said with a little sigh.

"In the bathroom! When you were... you know..."

"Oh right. Raped. How could I forget?" More sarcasm, but he couldn't help that one. He leaned back to get more comfortable as she continued.

"Hah, funny. I know you don't remember anything, but they seem to know quite a bit about what happened. One even mentioned how she took advantage of you."

That got his attention. Was this it? Did she find the person who did this to him?

"Who was it? Who did you hear talking? Did you see their faces?"

"Yep. Candie and Lana. From what they were saying, it sounds like Lana is the one that attacked you."

"... Oh." He slouched a tiny bit. "Yeah... I don't think they were talking about the same incident. I won't get into the details just yet but let's just say that last night and this morning have been quite eventful. And not in the good way."

"Huh? Really? But she said Lana took advantage of you..." Corsi replied with confusion in her voice. He could hear her fiddling with her locker on the other side of the line.

"Yeah, something weird is going on. Thanks, though. She wouldn't tell me who else was involved. Candie, you said?"

"Yeah."

"Right..." He paused, and glanced out toward the window. "Hey, do you have work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but not until three-thirty..." she answered.

"Same here, actually. Wanna' come over tonight? I'll fill you in on the details, and we can drive in tomorrow at the same time. You can borrow my shower and stuff." In truth, there were a few reason he invited her over. One was so he didn't feel so... alone. With Karina gone the place was already feeling a bit empty. She'd been out before, of course, but knowing she wouldn't likely be back except to get her stuff... It was a strange feeling. He didn't like it.

"Oh... I uh'..." Corsi paused for a moment, thinking about the offer as she tugged on her vest. Such a sudden offer. With a topic like this, the fact that he'd be willing to talk to her about it meant he trusted her at least a little. Hanging out with him made her feel good, too.

"Sure, why not? I get off at nine. I can be there by... Half past? I just need to get a change of clothes from home on the way."

"Oh, sure, sounds good." He sat up a little, lips curling to half smile.

"Yeah... Anyway, back to work. See you later." Click. She hung up.

* * *

In times like these he knew being born as a Cheetah was a blessing. He could actually be quick when he needed to be! In the two minutes that it took for her to get from the main building door to his, he managed to tidy the kitchen and living room up enough to make it sanitary at the very least. Knock knock! Hurrying to the door (though there was really no reason to, he didn't expect much to happen), he straightened himself up a little and let her in.

"Uh'... hi..." she said, taking a glance at what he was wearing.

"Hey." Following her gaze, he felt a bit of warmth behind the fur of his cheeks. In his rush to make the place not look like a disaster, he forgot to change into something more suitable for having a guest over. While his black Batman t-shirt was fine, the genre-matching Riddler boxers probably didn't help his image much.

"I uh'... I cleaned up a little... Didn't have time to change..." he mumbled, stepping to the side to let her in. As she stepped through the door, he heard a little muffled giggle. Obviously laughing at his attempt to make an excuse for being dressed the way he was.

"You're too cute..." she said softly, shining a little half-grinning smile at him. "It doesn't bother me... I mean, this is your home. You can be comfortable if you wanna' be." With a little shrug, she stepped further inside, not bothering to wait for him to lead her in this time.

"So, uh'... In that conversation you said you overheard. What exactly did you hear? Did they specifically mention the attack in the bathroom?" he asked curiously, as he followed her into his kitchen. He stopped at the fridge along the way, grabbing himself a bottle of Pepsi. "Oh, want something to drink..?"

"Sure." she replied, casting a glance back at him and what he was holding. "Pepsi's good for me." She paused at the table, long enough to put down her purse. "They didn't mention much. Smart move considering they were already dumb enough to bring it up in McDonald's of all places." she finally answered with a little shake of her head.

"Right..." he sighed, sauntering over to her to offer over her drink.

"They only mentioned that she took advantage of you. Lana, I mean. Sounded like she wanted to do it again, too." Uncapping her bottle, she took a long drink of fizzy beverage. Somewhere in the back of her mind hoping it'd wash the bad taste of that conversation out of her mouth.

"Ah, yeah... Well, they might'a been talking about something else..." he mumbled, before taking a drink from his own bottle. Gesturing with it afterward to the living room, he made his way in that direction. She followed along, even sitting down next to him on the couch as he made himself comfortable.

"What do you mean? What happened...? Are you starting to remember stuff?" she aked curiously. Inquisitive eyes watching his face, hoping to catch signs of... well, she didn't rightfully know what yet.

"Kinda', but not really. I think someone knows what happened. I just don't know how to..." He paused for a few seconds, brow furrowing in frustration at not knowing the right words to use. "... How to... get to her... without freaking out."

"Oh god... Who is it...?" Corsi asked, eyes widening a tiny bit. This must have been serious if he couldn't even talk to someone without her freaking out.

"That's... complicated. I can't really tell you, yet. But I can show you, tonight even." Another pause for a moment of thought, and he added with a smirk. "After we sleep..."

Corsi's serious face washed away with a bit of exasperation. He was really expecting her not to ask questions now? He was feline, he should know how this whole curiosity thing works for them. To stop herself from complaining, since it obviously seemed to be something serious, she muted herself with another long drink of pepsi.

"Well, fine." she huffed, turning away from him to grab the remote to his TV. "If you're gonna' clam up like that, and we aren't talking about this until tomorrow..."

"After we sleep. Not tomorrow." he interjected, as though it were an important thing to note.

"Whatever... After we sleep, then. But in the meantime, since I'm not tired in the least, let's at least do something. Play a game. I'll watch." Grabbing at the PS3 controller on the coffee table, she thrust it commandingly at his stomach. He gave a little 'oof', and took hold of the familiar black controller.

"What should I play?" he asked with a smile.

"Whatever you were before I came over. I'm sure I interrupted something, right?" she answered as she casually wriggled herself up against his side, leaning into him with a good view of the TV.

"Oh, sure..." he mumbled, taking one final sip of Pepsi before wiggling a little to keep himself in a comfortable position. A few button-presses and he was already lightning-deep in another quest involving Cole and a hoard of fools getting in his way.

"So this guy. In the last game his life was pretty much shit. He was a nobody with failing relationships, and then this big bomb thing went off that he was delivering - he's a courier by the way - and it gave him superpowers. Mainly lightning and electricity stuff."

"Oh... Sounds cool."

"Yeah, kinda'. The plot was campy and the game was just an open-world blast-em-up with a few objectives and secrets to find. This one's a bit more complicated..."

She slowly nodded, trying to absorb the information spewing non-stop from his mouth. He actually made it easy to comprehend. And there they stayed for a few hours, sharing the controller back and forth, changing games once in a while. He even managed to get her to try and beat him at some Soul Calibur V, which she did a few times, thoroughly impressing him.

* * *

After the exhausting practice of pretending to lose repeatedly to a girl who was obviously (not) his inferior in terms of gaming skill, Chris was ready for bed. It also helped that this girl was following him to bed, which he had also very readily agreed to. She'd stopped off at the bathroom to change as he shuffled in and made the bed. Not a lot of effort went into the artistry that was blanket tossing and pillow fluffing. It would just be messed up again in a couple of hours. Did he have hopes that something sexy would happen before they went to sleep? Surprisingly no! Especially when she slipped into his room wearing that same dorky tee-shirt she stole the first time they spent the night together.

There she was. The girl that he thought got away, standing in only his Green Lantern tee-shirt and a pair of simple black panties. Not that he knew that right away; only after a nice peek when she climbed up onto his bed, which for her was almost waist high. Choosing first to sit up, she peered at him curiously.

"So what is this thing you're supposed to show me? It isn't some trick to get me to look at your junk is it?" Her eyes cast a quick glance down toward where that area would be if he wasn't already half-covered by the blankets.

"Haha... naww'... But now I wish it was. That's just dorky enough to be something I'd do, eh'?" He flashed a grin at her, which she rewarded with a swat from one paw and a merry little giggle. Shaking her head, she leaned back against the headboard of his bed.

"True, I guess... But you still didn't answer the question." she mumbled.

"Trust me. It's not something I can just explain. You have to see it to believe it."

"Yeah, like I haven't heard that line before." Having said that, she playfully shoved at his shoulder. He squirmed, pretending to protest to her abuse as he rolled onto his side to look up at her. He was silent for almost a full minute. It almost made her uncomfortable, if it weren't for the way he was looking at her. Happy, almost serene. It was like she had a calming effect on him, and she couldn't (or didn't want to) think of why.

"... Stop looking at me like that..." she mumbled, turning toward him. She pointedly avoided meeting his gaze for now. One arm draped over his waist under the blanket as she pulled herself in closer, curling up to his chest.

"Like what?" he asked, blinking cluelessly a few times.

"Like you're in love, or something..." she said, muffled by his shirt.

"... What if I am...?" he asked absently, head resting on the pillow, nuzzling down against the top of her head. She tensed up a little, and he sensed he'd crossed a line there. Perhaps after the limited social experience they had at work with each other, and this only being the second night they'd be spending together, this wasn't the best time to speculate on such things.

"You're not..." was all she said, though it had a tone of finality.

"Mmh... I guess I'm not. You're the woman, so I can't argue with you about it... I trust your judgment better than my own, anyway." His words, though affirming her statement, left her with a mixture of relief and disappointment. It was one of those feelings that she wasn't sure how to deal with, so it was shoved to the back of her mind as she focused on his last comment instead. Pulling her head back a little, she dared to look up at him.

"Why is mine better than yours...?" she asked, curiosity in her voice and doubt squinting her eyes.

"Because by my usual perception of how things are, you should have the pick of any strong armed man you want to take as your own, while being doted on by everyone with good taste at some awesome party. Meanwhile, I get to sit at home with a game controller in my hands, wishing I was one of those guys." He paused, thinking for a moment about what he just said. That was the way things usually worked, wasn't it? Why didn't it settle right in his mind? Was he already falling through the foggy haze of sleep? As if on command, the moment he thought of sleep, his muzzle stretched open for a softly growling yawn.

"Yet here I am..." she continued for him, "... cuddled into the arms of a gamer-geek with a daredevil complex." A pause, considering her own words, before adding to them. "... The only guy I've ever met who looks at me like I'm made of solid gold..."

"Gold is poisonous... I like ice-cream..." he mumbled in a brief interruption. She giggle-snickered lightly against his chest, shaking her head.

"Fine... like I'm made of delicious ice-cream, even though gold was supposed to be a metaphor for great value..."

"You said 'like'... technically making it a simile..." he mumbled again, his voice fading even more now. It was pretty obvious he was about to fall asleep.

"Shut up! I'm trying to prove you right, here... Enjoy it while it lasts." She couldn't help but let out a soft laugh now. His babbling was just too cute. By the time she stopped, she could feel that his breathing had turned rhythmic, his eyes were closed, and his grip around her had softened. He was asleep.

"... And probably the only guy who's ever made me... feel enough... to be too scared to let him get close to my heart..." she finished, burying her face against his chest. Her eyes closed, ears focusing on the beat of his heart.

A strange beat, one she wasn't used to hearing. At first slow and steady, almost normal, but then it picked up speed, almost sounding strained. A few moments, and it would go back to normal. Listening to this over and over again for a few minutes let her clear her mind long enough to actually fall asleep.

* * *

She had only been asleep for a couple of hours when she was stirred by a feminine mumbling in her ear. The first thing she noticed was that she wasn't facing the same direction as she was when she fell asleep, but it didn't seem to matter. She was comfortable either way. The thing she didn't like was the feminine mumbling she heard, that wasn't her own. Her eyes started to blink open slowly, peering around sleepily for intruders in the room, but there were none. Maybe she was imagining things? She chuckled softly to herself before wiggling back into the comfy cheetah behind her, one hand reaching to tug Chris' arm around her body a bit more snugly.

That wasn't Chris' arm. The wrist was thin, and the arm was sleek. The paw was feminine and the fur was too soft. Her eyes snapped open wide. Just then, her mind registered what else she was feeling. Chris wasn't a thin guy, but the two lumps of squishy something pressing into her back definitely couldn't be his. She stiffened, the fur on her tail puffing up in fear. What could she do? She needed to get out. Someone had taken his place!

Just as she started to pull herself to the edge of the bed, the feminine hand grasped her shoulder in an almost familiar firm but gentle sort of way. The voice that came from behind her wasn't his.

"Wait... Don't leave..." Chris mumbled, trying to force herself awake now that she'd been roused enough by Corsi's near-panic.

"Who are you? Please let me go..." she murmured though a clenched jaw, just about ready to snap around and start growling and hissing at her delicate captor.

"This is... what I needed to show you... The person I needed to get to..." Chris said a little more coherently. "I'm Chris..."

That sent her head spinning, just about the same time as she spun herself around, and shoved herself to arm's reach. Eyes wide, she stared at the female cheetah curled up almost defensively on the bed where Chris had been. Her bright green eyes staring up at Corsi with a hint of fear behind them. Fear and hope. It was an expression she hadn't seen from someone in so long.

"Please... don't leave. I need your help, Corsi..." begged the female Chris, her voice starting to quiver.

"Fine!" Corsi blurted, feeling a little bit defensive herself at the moment. Her heart was sinking further and further every minute that she had to look at Chris like this. The big guy she'd started to fall for wasn't so big anymore. Nor was he even a guy anymore! How could she even deal with this? With a long exasperated sigh she combed her claws through her hair, pulling it back over her shoulders.

"What do you need me to do...?" she asked quietly.

"I need you to ask me what happened... To make me think about it... And please don't freak out or run away if anything happens..."

"Fine... So? What happened? How did this all... start?" Corsi asked the question in a way that almost made her feel like she was scolding the cheetah.

Having sat up now, hugging her arms around unfamiliar knees, Chris didn't want to be interrogated with this sort of tone. It made her feel guilty for being this way. She started shaking her head slowly, denying that it was happening. She would not be scolded for wanting help.

"I... don't know. I wanna' forget. It's terrible..." Chris mumbled, eyes closing tightly to avoid looking at Corsi. The black feline would have none of that, her hand reaching out to grip one of the cheetah's knees, squeezing it tentatively, trying to be supportive even if she didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Don't... You didn't come this far and show this to me, just to back down now. You need to remember. We need to figure this out so we can fix you and you can be Chris again." she said softly, holding back the confusion and fear she felt about the situation. Chris deserved that at the very least.

"NO!" screamed the cheetah! Eyes popped open wide again, staring angrily at Corsi. Such a change in her demeanor made the other feline jerk back her hand quickly, the fur of her tail once again standing on end.

"I won't! I don't need to be fixed! This is me!" Chris blurted, immediately wrapping the end of her muzzle with her hands. Did she really just say that? That was so wrong, and such a lie. She wasn't "himself" right now at all. But... it felt right to say.

"But..." interjected Corsi, face twisted with confusion. "... We're trying to help you get better, right? What do we need to do, then? What happened to you? How do we make it stop?"

"I don't remember! This... this -is- better... I think... no! I know! This... this is..." Chris trailed off, rocking back and forth in place. Her paws slipped from her muzzle up into her hair. So wild, so red, so foreign. But it felt right. She didn't know if she wanted it to feel right.

"Come on, Chris! We..."

"My name isn't Chris!" she yelled, cutting Corsi off mid-sentence. Her eyes now wide in desperation.

"Then... what -is- your name? Do you remember that?" asked Corsi delicately.

"Stop. Stop making me think!" the cheetah pleaded with a bit of welling moisture in the corners of her eyes. Her mind raced with effort as she pulled at memories from deeper places than she'd ever reached out to before. "I.. I don't know... I don't.. knng~...!" Chris doubled over with a headache so sudden and so profound that she almost couldn't breath. She felt her mind pulling back on itself. Wrapping itself in protective layers of psychosis and trauma that she couldn't even begin to understand.

And then she remembered.

* * *

Chris had just walked into the men's bathroom that day. Typical business. Zipper down, lift, let go, stash, zip up, wash hands, and go. About half way through, things got complicated. A disgusted feeling washed over him like he'd never before experienced. A feeling that made him feel like he was some sort of gross creature.

"This can't be good..." he mumbled under his breath, hands braced on the edge of the urinal. It didn't help. His knees went weak. He collapsed to the side, grasping desperately for something to hold onto, but the porcelain fixture simply slipped from his grasp. Thunk, sploosh! He landed hard against a big yellow cleaning bucket nearby. Probably left sitting there because of the big 'out of order' sign on the actual toilet stall. A foul smell stung the inside of his nose, as the chemicals in the cleaning water tickled up against his face. His eyes started to water, and he tried to call for help.

"Hheeeyyy...! Fffuuu.... Heelll~!" he whined! Just loud enough to maybe let it echo into the hall just outside the door. This is where things started to get strange for him. The memory blurred, but what looked like acrid green smoke with a bright, fiery inner glow started to get pushed from his extremities. The foul looking energy billowed away from his fingertips and coalesced in front of him like a vicious serpent. Everywhere the energy was pushed away from was changing. Slimming, softening. Becoming more feminine. Even his face let out some of the energy, giving the tendril of foggy foulness a pair of beady green glowing dots for sinister eyes and a wicked maw of what looked like lightning and fire combined stretched out to draw a set of fangs.

And then she came in. He wasn't sure who, but the voice was familiar. Soft hair. Sweet voice. Long ears. But that voice didn't sound sweet. It yelled in ways he'd never heard before. Flashes of soft light spat from blurry fingertips toward the wicked serpent trying to be forced from his body. It screeched in a way that made his soul hurt, more so than it already was. A few seconds of this strange torment and the serpent had taken enough abuse. It whipped it's wicked head around and dove straight into Chris' stomach.

The chemicals in the water soaking his fur didn't much like the fact that the thing was made from burning evil, and caught fire with a vengeance like he'd never before experienced. The pain didn't even register for Chris, he was too far gone from the delirium of falling and watching that thing come out of him, not to mention the fumes from that bucket up close. All he could do was black out.

* * *

When he woke up, Chris was himself again. Or, at least male again. Being himself wasn't as easy as it seemed anymore. The thoughts that swam in his head were half his own. Logical, unconcerned, strangely confident. Those that were not his, however... Raw, emotional, defensive. Feminine. A strange feeling came over him as he lingered upon those thoughts. It was less like he was trying to filter something out of his own thoughts, and more like he was just then noticing something that was always there.

As he focused less of his attention inward, and started to brave the wilds of the reality around him, he was pleasantly surprised at the lack of pain. Usually when an incident like this one ended, there was soul-twisting agony and plenty of screaming on his part. This time... Nothing. Nothing but softness beneath his cheek, and fingertips in his hair.

His eyes blinked open, greeted by the pleasant sight of sleek black-furred thighs and the hem of a black t-shirt. He rolled onto his back, groaning softly as he looked up at Corsi from below. The way the shirt draped over her bra-less figure tugged a little purr from the back of his throat.

"... Good morning..." Corsi mumbled, staring blankly across the room. The look on her face made him feel a little queasy. Was this because of him? He shouldn't have let her in on this. No, he shouldn't have -dragged- her into this.

"Sorry to make you go through all that..." he mumbled, feeling a swelling in his chest he hadn't felt in quite a long time. Sadness. Regret. The revelation of these feelings hit him a bit late, but the stunned look on his face matched what she did next regardless. Her paw left his hair, reaching up to scratch very lightly at the edge of what looked like a white t-shirt wrapped around her other forearm. The scent creeping up through the now-ragged wrap was too familiar. Burning, pain, flesh... evil.

"Shit, what happened?!" he blurted, jerking himself upright so fast that she let out a startled squeak and gave him a timid look.

"... When you changed back... Some.. -thing-.. swirling around you. I tried to swat it away. You looked like you were in such pain." She paused, looking down at her arm, brows lowering to glare at the covered wound. "... It attacked me. Burned me."

He winced, reaching out to gently rest a paw on her thigh, and give a reassuring squeeze. "If it's the same kind of burns that I had... From... that -thing-... You'll be fine. Mine patched up real fast, but we need to get you to the hospital."

"Maybe they can help you? I... I don't know if I can." she said with a nearly muted voice. He only heard her through the grace of his feline ears. He shook his head quickly, raising his paw slowly to her cheek to gently brush against her fur. Her eyes perked in his direction, showing a mixture of fear and curiosity that blurred into affection the moment they saw his face. He looked sorrowful. For the first time since she -truly- met him not so long ago, she knew that she wanted something from him. She wanted a feeling, one that he was giving her right now. So concerned for her safety, and so negligent of his own at this time. She felt cherished.

"Right now, I can get you to the hospital. I will be fine. You're hurt. No arguing." He climbed from the bed and pulled on a shirt, unconcerned with the wild mess his hair had turned into during the night's events. He hadn't even noticed until just then as he crossed the room to open his dresser for an over-shirt, that sunlight was peeking through the heavy draped window. "How long was I out for...? Did you get any sleep at all?"

"... All night... and just a little..." she mumbled in reply, feeling inexplicably stubborn. She didn't want him to help her. She wanted him to help himself first. But he'd have none of that. Seeing the look on her face, he raised a brow and glanced at her shirt-wearing figure.

"Fine. If you won't come along willingly, I'm carrying you there in that shirt." He stalked forward, arms jerking out to scoop her up against his chest. She scampered away, mistakenly putting pressure on her wounded arm. It made her feel dizzy and weak, but she didn't even notice what had happened until she saw him brushing her hair out of her face, gently scolding her for not being careful. She'd collapsed on the bed and hadn't even noticed.

"C'mon... Let's turn you over and put some pants on so we can go. You really need to get that checked." He scolded her quite firmly, quite obviously not willing to take no for an answer.

"Fine..." she said reluctantly, slowly rolling onto her back. She wriggled a little uncomfortably as she felt him tug pants onto her form, then squeaked weakly in surprise as he scooped her up like a feather-light doll.

"Why do you have to carry me?" she whined weakly, even as she curled into his chest and cradled her wounded arm.

"Because I doubt you'll be able to walk. I know what that -thing- can do to a person's head when they let their guard down." he answered with a firmly knowing tone. Seeing her collapse started to solidify a pattern in his head. He'd gotten dizzy a few times in the last little while. Ever since waking up in the hospital. He blamed it on the chemicals that they told him had gotten into his system and caused some temporary brain damage. They didn't have the full story. Now he knew. Or suspected, anyway, that this... -thing-... whatever was inside of him, keeping that female side of him chained away, could also effect his mind.

"Oh..." she answered in defeat, just going along for the ride. Out the door, down the stairs, outside the building. Thankfully the hospital was only a few minutes walk in a straight line across a few yards and one road. He lived quite close to just about everything important. It was wonderful, really.

* * *

The visit to the hospital was thankfully brief. Her contact with the strangely stubborn magical serpent was brief, though painful. After a mind-numbing two and a half hours of waiting in the Emergency waiting room, she was treated with an alchemical ointment, spread over her burns to soften the pain and help mend the flesh. During their wait, she made an off-the-wall comment that she was supposed to work at noon that day (which was a lie, of course) so the orderly would speed things along for them. It worked, more or less, but it helped that Chris called in to work to ask for a few hours of wiggle-room.

"Really? He said that?" she asked, genuinely surprised as she inspected the bandage wrappings over her arm. She had come from the emergency ward, one arm wrapped up, holding a bag with what looked like a bottle of goopy liquid inside.

"Yeah. Randal's awesome like that. I'm sure if you need tomorrow off he'll even give you an extra personal day. Any other manager would probably demand some bullshit doctor's note, proving you were here and needed the time off." Chris shrugged, stood up, and started toward her. She paused, looking up at him with a conflict in her eyes. She didn't know what she wanted to do. Send him home and get a different ride? Or follow him and let him comfort her, as he obviously now wanted to do?

"Oh, uhm... I guess... What now...?" A little bit of stammering as she asked him what they should do. Her dizziness and strange confusion was gone, leaving only the very vivid memory of what happened earlier that morning. He seemed normal right now. He was back to the Chris she knew. The Chris she still couldn't admit she was falling (or maybe already has fallen?) for.

"Well... Your car's at my place." he said softly, glancing around at everyone else waiting in the lobby of the ER. "We could get a cab, or just walk and get some fresh air. If you feel like going home I can just spot you for a cab -now-, and you can come pick up your car tomorrow when you're feeling better." All of the above were logical courses of action in his mind. To her, there was really only one option. Her arm hooked around his, and she quietly pulled him through the door to begin walking back to his place.

Nothing was said the entire way back. Lots to think about for both of them. Corsi couldn't get the image of that serpent out of her thoughts long enough to figure any one thing out; while Chris couldn't stop feeling miserable for dragging her into his problems.

* * *

Fifteen minutes and one very awkward climbing of stairs later, they were back in his apartment. He had deposited her on the couch, where she had curled her legs against herself and flicked on the TV. Her expression mostly blank, unable to decide whether she wanted to be sad for herself, worried about him, or mad at this female side of him and whoever thrust it upon him. Most of that washed away harmlessly when she became thoroughly distracted by a re-run episode of My Little Pony.

Chris was already formulating an idea in his head. It was almost finished, he just needed to decide when to spring this plan upon her and drag her (kicking and screaming if he had to) back outside. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Until then, he busied himself with filling a couple of small bowls with vanilla ice-cream. Awkwardly balancing those and a couple cold bottles of Pepsi, he sauntered into the living room and settled down onto the couch beside her. With the snack safely secured on the coffee table, he gently picked up her feet and draped them over his lap, letting himself wiggle a bit closer to her.

"What are you doing..?" she asked tentatively, peering over a shoulder at him, glad that the majority of her torso was shielding her tiny smirk from view.

"Trying to make you more comfortable, and hopefully winning brownie points for a bowl of ice-cream. I know -I- love to eat ice-cream when I'm upset."

Rolling onto her back, she propped her shoulders up against the arm of the chair. Her eyes maintained a silent appraisal upon him for a few long minutes, trying to judge his sincerity. After finishing nearly half of the ice-cream this started to make her feel a little bit guilty. He hadn't done anything to hurt her by choice, and he was trying to comfort her right now. It was quite a sweet thing to do considering his own circumstances. She made effort to hide her slowly emerging smile, and continued to dig into the ice-cream.

As she seemed to be a slow eater, he had his long gone before she was even half finished. After a few swigs of Pepsi, his paws busied themselves with her ankles and feet. She almost didn't notice at first, but as his strong paw-fingers kneaded into the muscle and pads of her feet, she felt herself stretching out those cute little toes and purring softly. He wasn't too bad at this, and it definitely earned him a few bonus points.

"I'm not really upset anymore..." she mumbled over a mouth full of delicious vanilla treat.

"... Well, that's good." His reply didn't hinder his work upon her feet. Paw-fingers working strong but subtle magic into tender flesh, he cast her a simple smile, content to do exactly what he was doing while watching the TV.

Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie was throwing a party. However, only her toys (obviously her totally true and real friends!) were invited, because all the other ponies were being big meanie-heads.

"I can't believe how enraptured you are with this show. Isn't it for little girls...?" she asked, daring to eye him in a nearly judging sort of way. While she had let go of the idea that he was dragging her into all of this mess on purpose as some sort of torture, she still couldn't help but feel a little bitter.

"Consider this. Every episode has a lesson to be learned about morality and friendship. Self-discovery, tolerance for racial difference, communication being key between friends, lying being generally bad, yadda yadda... All drawn like this in an adorably cute sort of way, and stuffed full of little easter eggs and references that only adults would understand. How is this any worse than watching an arrogant teenager bitch about getting the wrong car for her birthday. Or watching someone who's so pretentious he names himself 'The Situation', sleep with a bitchy unattractive latino girl... -again-... Or maybe watching some washed-out over-the-hill TV judge lady mommy-scold grown adults and ruin their financial future without evidence to back up her decisions?"

"... Okay, good point..." she mumbled softly conceding to his logic for now. The show did seem to be super fun and super cute. If he was secure enough with himself that he could watch it without feeling foolish or (higher powers forbid!) 'gay', she couldn't think of a reason to argue against him. Some of the singing was getting on her nerves though, and she resolved that by turning over onto her stomach, hiding her face in the corner of the couch, and folding her ears against her head.

A few minutes later, during a particularly dull commercial, she started to feel that wonderful kneading in her feet spread higher and higher up the back of her legs. She wasn't sure when she zoned out so badly that she didn't notice it happening, but he'd apparently let her feet down onto the couch, and was straddling her calves as his paws worked their way up her body. The only reason she didn't protest the more... personal... massage, was the look she saw on his face, out of the corner of her eye. Not really any lust or obvious desire to jump her bones. Simply a smile and a look of lucky admiration. The same look she'd fallen for before this gender-bending mess they found themselves in now.

She almost regretted her decision to accept this treatment when the paws so boldly roamed over the curves of her hips and rear! The unexpected sensation washed away into a deepening purr and wider-stretching smile as the paws tenderly massaged the base of her tail. Slowly, the paws climbed further and further, lingering for minutes (or longer, she stopped paying attention) in each place, like he was making sure the area was well-worked and comfortably loosened up.

She didn't even protest when he (somewhat surprisingly) lifted the edge of her shirt, exposing her bare back to his roaming digits. Strong paws kneaded gentle pads into her muscles so tenderly that her eyes had closed, lips had delicately parted, and soft mewls of full-body contentment were starting to slip from her muzzle. His own grin widened. It wasn't his intention to bring this half as far as he did, but now that she was there and in this state, he couldn't really help himself. Further up the shirt went, guided by his friendly touch, knowing full well that if she were on her back she'd be quite exposed to him. She didn't protest. He leaned forward, muzzle and nose gently nuzzling the side of her neck, nosing to one side to brush her hair out of the way. She shivered gently, head canting a little to peer at him out of the corner of her eye. He leaned further upward, paws kneading firmly into the loosening muscles of her shoulders and the base of her neck. She gently smiled at him, inwardly gleeful as he noticed and returned it with one of his soft affectionate smiles.

"... I'm still kinda' scared that you'll be someone else after all of this..." she mumbled lightly, eyes closing again to avoid seeing the look on his face as she said this. His paws didn't falter, his nuzzling affections merely drifted to her cheek and the side of her neck.

"No matter what I look like, Corsi... I don't think I'll be able to feel any different about you than I do right now."

"... Oh...? And how do you feel...?" she asked weakly, not even sure she wanted to know the answer. He retorted with something equally as difficult for her to stomach. A question. One she'd been avoiding asking herself since the first day they spent together.

"How do you feel about me?" His question was fairly simple, though answering it proved much more complicated. She remained silent for a few minutes, content to let him pamper her, growing amused at the shuffling he did every ten or fifteen seconds to avoid the obvious contact of crotch-to-rear.

"... Please don't ask me questions I can't answer..." she said, barely a whisper, but he heard it.

"... Yet...?" he added, his voice hopeful, sincere.

"... Yet..." she finished, surprising him by rolling in place, arms easily slung 'round his neck, tugging him in to kiss her deeply upon the lips. His paws went to either side, bracing him as he loomed inward, pressing needfully into the embrace she seemed so eager to share. After a moment that felt like hours she let him go. With both hers and his eyes all a-twinkle with emotion, emotion that neither of them could currently define, they started to speak. Both stumbled over a few words, and shared a small laugh. Her head turned, adorably embarrassed. He darted in quickly to peck a tiny kiss to her cheek.

"I wanna' take you on a date... A real one. Dinner, clubbing, a walk down the river-side trail... Something romantic."

"R-really...?" she asked cautiously. Was this for real? Or was this just another one of his budding sarcastic jokes that she couldn't help but laugh at.

"Yeah. Really... I think you deserve more than a few moments of sexy-time in my apartment, a trip to the hospital, and a few hours of mind-fucking. I..." He paused, pushing to sit up now. "... I wanna' do something nice. I wanna' do something..." Another pause. Her head started aching with a mixture of anticipation and fear. Not that she was really afraid of him, only what he might say. Fearful that she would be pulled in too far by this strange man with even stranger problems. "... something for _ us _."

Us. The word rang in her ears like a temple gong, echoing loudly in the front of her mind, drawing forth thoughts that shouldn't have been so easy to spark.

"Sure. I'd like that..." is all she could say. Though as her eyes struggled to look away from him, trying to distract herself with something that didn't make her feel so much, she found the unfortunate sight of the clock on the wall. Two in the afternoon.

"Good... Saturday, then. I know you have the day off. You never work on Saturdays... But I'm totally not stalking you, though." A shifty little grin tugged at the corner of his lips, but she barely reacted. She seemed suddenly distracted.

"Crap... I work in an hour and a half..." she mumbled, twisting to turn and get off the couch. Chris sat back up fully and let her get to her feet, eyes roaming the sleek figure of the beautiful kitten.

"Huh'... So do I..." he said with a shake of his head. Damn that profit-worshiping retail chain that could afford to fire them both without blinking an eye. They were mostly quiet for the next hour, both taking turns getting cleaned up, before heading off to work...