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Um, hey. For those of you that care, sorry bout the whole "akhusky taking forever to get not that much done" thing. Real life has just been absolutely killing me lately. So. This is actually the product of about three serious sessions of work over about a two-week span. It ain't the Odyssey, but it'll do. And with that said, here's the fo' real start of RWB 2. NOTE: Obviously, since this is RWB TWO, it's a sequel. I tried to make it possible to read for someone who hasn't read the first one, but it'd seriously help if you read the first one, well, first, because I'll probably miss recapping some important details.

Chapter 1: Mama Said Knock You Out

Alexei

You ever have one of those times where you find yourself out at a ranch in the middle of nowhere, about to get in a fistfight with a guy a lot bigger than you that calls himself Raznok? No? Congratulations, sir or madam, you are probably normal. I, on the other paw, am definitely not.

Hey. I'm Alexei Pavlov. I'm a Junior at Central Washington High School in Washington D.C. I'm an honors student and a varsity football player. I play in a band, get good grades, and have a really solid group of friends. I also love rainbows and pink ponies. Heh, I kid. Just seeing if you were paying attention. I did this however, because all that stuff is, y'know, boring. Like, I just fell asleep writing that. So, what, you are inevitably asking, makes me so strange?

Well.

I could tell you that both of my parents died violently, one in a car accident, the other shot up. I could tell you that I'm under the employment of a government organization you've never heard of. I could tell you that the number of furs I've stealthily and not so stealthily killed in real life is starting to rival what I have as Ezio Auditore on my Xbox. I could tell you that I have two very, very attractive girlfriends that would readily mate me if I only said the word. I could tell you all of these things, and they'd pretty much all be true, but I won't. (Actually, I guess I just did, but just roll with it, okay?) What I will tell you is that I live out a seamless double-life without losing my sanity. That is the most impressive thing about me. When my classmates see me in the halls, they see a six-foot tall, muscular, black and white husky who's a good student and athlete. And that's all. They don't see the blood and the violence, and I like to keep it that way. The only two people outside the organization that know what I really do are my best friend Kurt and my legitimate girlfriend Natalya (I do have to specify. I have two, remember? You'll find out more about the other one later).

And as for what I really do, I work for a group called the High-Priority Urgent Response Task Force, H.U.R.T. for short. It's sort of an ensemble cast of the best special forces operators from the United States and Canada (with a few exceptions) that all come together to be the most skilled and unbeatable combat force in the world. We're invisible as well; everything we do is shrouded in secrecy. The less people know about us, the better. In any event, I lead a team of five soldiers, including myself, and two support crew, and we are collectively known as Strike Team 13, a.k.a. the most effective squad in the most effective unit anywhere. No big. We all come from diverse backgrounds as well. Manny was a ranger, Kris was in JTF-2, Blake was a sniper for the FBI, Travis used to work for the CIA but was apparently much better at shooting people than spying on them. Sam, a former LAPD SWAT officer, was on the team from the onset, but thanks to a debilitating injury he sustained during our first mission, is now on the sidelines, at least until we can get him on some suitable prosthetics.

The two support crew I mentioned? They're not exactly benign either. Pavel came to us as a tech specialist/hacker/tracker/computer whiz who used to work for the Slovakian government. We were all kind of expecting a complete nerd, but it turns out he had been on the national hockey team, at least on a junior level, and in the months leading up to the beginning of this story, Travis and I had taught him combat skills, and he was getting good. Really good. The other fur is Elise. Her primary job is being the secretary for our boss's boss, the Director of the organization, but when we're active, she runs communications for us. She hails from Australia, and in addition to being more than competent at her actual jobs, she is also a phenomenal marksman, almost if not just as good as Blake, but the director won't let her into the field. As another perk, she's also hot as hell, and very much in love with me. Not that it necessarily applies in this situation as much as others, but I can honestly say that I'm having an affair with the company secretary. That's right, ladies and gents. Elise is girlfriend #2.

And then there're the commanders. My boss is Bronco Shadowstep. Former Navy SEAL, all-around badass. He's also my adoptive father now since my real dad got killed by our team's foremost target, Russian mafiya boss Igor Kossenko. Oh, right, forgot about that part. Whoops. Yeah, I'm only seventeen, so I wasn't in the military or anything. Dad ran the local Russian mob in Washington DC, where we live, and I was kinda the heir. I also was a hitman, never once failed an assignment. So, I had lots of experience killing, and when Dad died, both H.U.R.T. and Kossenko wanted my abilities, and I chose the good guys.

Anyway, back I what I was saying, Shadowstep's my boss, and everyone's boss is David Mansfield, the Director of H.U.R.T. He's a gruff Canuck who has a lot of experience in the field, but no one really knows what exactly he did. Whatever he did in his past life, he knows how to get things done at H.U.R.T., and that's good. Guys that do what we do need a fearless leader to keep them sane.

So that's my backstory. There's more to it, but that's a separate book, so if you haven't read it, you should either go do that, or you can try to hang with this one. You'll figure out what you need to know.

Now, our current story starts, for me at least, at the ranch I mentioned earlier. You see, a new kid had joined our class after Christmas break. He was a collie from West Virginia named Geoffrey Rivers, and he was a complete redneck. Nice guy. Complete redneck. As a middle of the year transfer, Geoff had approximately zero friends coming into Central Washington, so our group kindly offered him a seat at our lunch table, he fell right in with us and the rest was history. Now, all the guys in the group play football, and all of us are pretty good at it. We also all play defense. Not to say the offense is terrible or anything. Even though it is. But it's more complicated than that. You see, our offensive line is pretty solid. We have some great running backs, and a couple of talented receivers. But we were kinda short in the quarterback position, as the guy we had playing in it was an egotistical, yet braindead, unaware, and talentless scrub named Leo Fortuna. He sucked. I really can't hammer that home enough. He was really, really bad.

So in comes Geoff Rivers. One day, while Dex, Jay, and I were at track practice, the other two members of our group went to football conditioning, and Geoff decided to tag along, mentioning earlier that day that he hoped he would make the team. Turns out the new guy was just being humble. He didn't even need to beat out Leo in tryouts; the collie had been an all-state quarterback in West Virginia, and according to Tony and Kurt, he had the best arm they had ever seen. Upon discovering this, our coach practically came in his pants and announced that he was the starter. In February. Months before we would even think about putting on pads for the season. Geoff suddenly became quite popular among the student body, being treated like some sort of athletic savior. But oddly, he shied away from the attention, electing instead to stay with our group, and instead of picking up one of the hoard of cheerleaders fawning over him, he continued to chase after this one French chick who was a friend and tennis teammate of Kurt's girlfriend. This was somewhat problematic though, as Charlotte didn't like football, and as far as we could tell, didn't like Geoff either.

Regardless, time had passed, and it was now mid-March. It was the first day of our Spring Break, because apparently the school system had taken to putting it in whenever the hell the felt like it, and Geoff's family was having a get-together at one of the branches of his family's ranch in Virginia, and invited all of our group to go to it including Charlotte, who agreed because in her own words, "I guess I'm some sort of masochist". And that's what led us to that bit I started off with.

Me and the other guys had just played a pick-up football game, and I was resting in the shade of a tree, my reddish-orange vixen girlfriend curled up next to me. It was a great day; the sun was out, but it wasn't too hot, there was a nice breeze and everybody was happy. But the day was overshadowed as usual by Natalya. She's beautiful. She's beyond beautiful. She's the most amazing female I've ever met, that I've ever seen. Average height, flowing scarlet hair, downy soft fur, perfect body proportions, and sparkling big brown eyes. I love her more than anything, and am seriously considering asking her to mate me after high school. And I cheat on her regularly. I'm not going to ask you to not judge me; I'm fully guilty of being a terrible person, and I have been sick and depressed with that guilt at several times. But for some reason I can't seem to shake Elise, and even though I've pledged to myself that I absolutely have to stop after I get engaged, for the meantime I'm polyamorous.

Not that Natalya knows that. I did almost get caught once, after a concert. Elise occasionally wears some sort of lip gloss that I guess leaves a funny aftertaste. I kiss her frequently, so I guess I just got used to it, and wasn't even thinking about that when I kissed Natalya about two minutes after Elise, and Natalya was definitely NOT used to it, and I got called out. I was able to think on my feet though, and came up with a story about a renegade fan who was all over me outside the venue. I said she was a puma, and in an amazing stroke of luck, there had apparently been a questionable puma in attendance that Natalya had talked to, and she bought the lie. I breathed a sigh of relief that night, but I still hated lying to her.

I seemed to forget all that under the tree though. I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her in closer. She set her head down on my shoulder and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, then suddenly opened her eyes and recoiled. I worriedly asked what was wrong, and she succinctly replied, "You smell." "Yes, I just played a football game, I apologize for not smelling like roses." "Oh, no, I don't fault you for smelling bad; I was just stating a fact." "So does that mean no snuggling?" "Ugh, no it doesn't you big fluffy puppy. I'm not getting up any time soon." I grabbed her tightly again and firmly kissed her, "I love you, Natalya." "I love you too," she giggled back.

We were just starting to get comfortable when a white pick-up pulled up the drive, and three douchey-looking guys, a horse, a bull, and a collie got out, trying to look as smug as possible while getting out of a lame truck at a family get together. The collie quarterback phenom Geoff noticeably winced when the trio appeared, but went on shyly attempting to converse with Charlotte the little French skunk. We couldn't tell exactly what was going on, but we saw the collie from the truck swagger like the poser he was over to Geoff, his two much larger cronies in tow. Words were exchanged, and Charlotte, ever temperamental, looked offended and stepped forward at the mystery collie, who proceeded to push her to the ground before Geoff could stop him. Geoff was reasonably miffed, and went to go return the favor to the newcomer, when both the horse and bull took him on simultaneously, throwing him to the ground like a ragdoll.

This was ridiculous, and I wasn't having any of it. I let go of Natalya and moved to get up when she grabbed my wrist. "Ok, look Natalya, I know I promised I wouldn't get in any more fights, but come on. Are you seeing this? I can handle myself." "I know you can," the vixen smiled faintly, "and I think it might be time I realized I'm dating Bruce Wayne, and that you'll always be okay. I've anxiously waited to hear that you're safe too many damn times over the last five months to worry about a couple of bullies at a party. But you also need to think some things through. You can't take them both, or it'll look too strange. Ask Kurt to help." I acknowledged her correctness and stood up to do what she advised when she tugged on my arm again, "Oh and one more thing. Those guys are total jerks. I think they really need a lesson in humility. Break something for me, baby." "I love you so fucking much," I said, diving down and passionately kissing her again before leaving to get Kurt.

I started walking in Kurt's direction, but soon found I didn't need to go very far, as he got up and walked towards me as well. Kurt's a wolf, and saying he's big would be an understatement. He's basically how I imagine the biblical Goliath. If Goliath was on creatine and several illegal steroids that is. Not that Kurt was, of course; he was just naturally gigantic. Standing around 6'5'' and weighing almost 275 pounds, he towered over me and asked in his quiet, reserved voice, "What took you so long?" "Um, sorry, was with Natalya. I take it you just witnessed our lovely new friends as well?" "Hardly lovely, but yeah. They need to be pulled back to earth. Forcefully." I grinned as we sauntered over to where the confrontation was taking place, "Indeed, ol' buddy ol' pal, it's time for some good old-fashioned ass-kicking."

Kurt chuckled to himself. Despite being the size of a pickup truck, the wolf wasn't actually a violent individual. In fact, he was quite intelligent, and preferred reading and general thinking to taking pups' lunch money. Of course, this didn't prevent him from being a reliable force in a fight where there was real injustice, or being a nightmare for opposing running backs (or sophomore JV running backs for that matter) in football. He had also been my best friend since we were like, four, and we get along quite well, to the point where he knows just about every detail of my involvement with H.U.R.T. (including my infidelity) and he dates my ex-girlfriend without it being awkward at all. Hell, I even support them. They're a good couple, and it's not like I really have any reason to be jealous here.

"I'll take the bull," Kurt strategized. I raised an eyebrow, "Any particular reason?" "Yeah, if you take the bigger guy that'll make me look like a puss." "Oh, right. Good call. I forgot my red sheet anyway." "You probably need to stop talking." "Yeah, I probably do." We walked up to the scene, and Kurt whistled to get the cretins' attention. And there we were. A trained assassin, a beast, and a nice-guy quarterback about to get into fisticuffs with a trio of overconfident hicks. Heh, it was gonna be one helluva time.

"Howdy, losers," I opened up poetically, "I see you've been doing a fine job beating up on a girl and double teaming a guy half each of your size. Excluding Sheepdog McImpotent over here, who's kinda been just enjoying the show. Anyway, I must say, I applaud you guys, I really do. In fact, I admire you so much that me and my buddy here want to get in and make this an even three on three fight. We won't win of course; we just want to see if we can go the distance with such pristine examples of chivalry, honor, and fighting expertise." "Oh, so you want to fight us, huh?" Mystery Collie retorted cleverly (at least he thought so) in an overly emphasized southern accent. "Uh, yeah," Kurt responded with a bit of confusion, scratching his head at Mystery Collie's evident stupidity, "That was the general idea. I mean, Alex did use the word 'fight' I'm pretty sure, so, should've been pretty obvious."

"Well then hell yeah we'll fight you!" Mystery Collie exclaimed enthusiastically, "We're the best damn fighters in our whole damn town!" "So...," I guessed, "Retirement community?" "Retirement- Are you callin' us old, son?" Mystery Collie continued to shame Southern culture. "No, son, I'm saying the only people you could take in a fair fight are grannies and vegetables. Which I guess would be unfair anyway, so, really you can take no one," I taunted. "Oh, we are gonna kill you so hard!" Mystery Collie fumed. Kurt rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Yeah, I'll bet."

Mystery Collie was not big. He looked to be about Geoff's size, but while Geoff had the body style that you'd see on a fashion ad or magazine cover, with a good amount of lean muscle, MC was a little... pudgy. He didn't look like he worked out a lot, and if he played football, my guess is that he either did so solely on Madden, or played Left Bench for his high school team. He also appeared to be a guy that girls would generally avoid. For multiple reasons.

On the other paw, his backup wasn't small and inadequate. They were big, WAY bigger than Mystery Collie. The horse was a Clydesdale, big, brown, and muscular, with little puffs of white fur extending from his wrists and ankles. He appeared to be a quiet follower of MC, even though he clearly was more intimidating. From what I could tell, he had very sizeable leg muscles that could make him as fast as he was strong, and from the way he took MC's orders, he had some intelligence locked up in there, but for some reason didn't want to let it show. The bull was more akin to Kurt, massive, gray, and bulging with muscle. He looked like a much different opponent than the horse, relying much more on brute strength to get his job done, and while the Not-Exactly-Italian-Stallion appeared to have some smarts, the bull looked to be about as dumb as a rock and half as clever. I was surprised he could form words, and also slightly afraid he would get distracted by one of the girls' hair, try to feel how soft it was, and accidentally break her neck. Luckily there were no rabbits in our group.

The rest of our friends and even some of Geoff's extended family circled around us as the fight edged closer to its start. Charlotte scurried out of the danger zone and hid behind Natalya and Kurt's white feline girlfriend Stephanie, peeking out just enough to see what was going on, and Kurt helped Geoff to his feet, asking him who exactly the aggressors were. "The collie is my cousin," Geoff started, but he was quickly cut off by MC, who obnoxiously interjected, "We can introduce ourselves perfectly fine thank you very much." "Go right ahead then," Geoff countered flatly, regaining some confidence with our support.

"Well," Mystery Collie smirked and gestured to the horse, "This is Raznok." He gestured to the bull, "This is Ragnarok." He gestured to himself, "And as for me, well, you can just call me Cousin Guido." Kurt and I looked at each other, mouths trembling, for a second or two, then, unable to hold it in any longer, started to crack up. Kurt covered his mouth with a paw and turned away and I doubled over and grabbed my knees, gasping for breath from laughing so hard. In one of my by far most impressive feats, I, with much struggle, regained some composure. At least enough to say, "What the fuck? You gave yourselves nicknames? God, if you were going to be that obnoxious couldn't you have at least picked some less shitty ones? I mean, Cousin Guido? Is that a joke?"

By this point most everyone surrounding us was snickering as well, and the tension escaped like air from a popped balloon. Or a popped blowfish. I don't know if that works the exact same way, but I've always totally wanted to try that. But at the same time I don't, because it will probably explode like a frag grenade and kill me, so I probably won't be attempting that experiment for a while. Definitely on the bucket list, though.

Right. Um... Anyway, "Guido" was a little miffed that we were taking him and his "gang" so lightly (yes I am totally making air quotes for those as I'm writing this). In fact you could say he was enraged. Fuming. Seething. Worse than both of my girlfriends on their Times of the Year combined. He was so pissed he could barely get words out, "Are y- tauntin' us? Still fffuckin tauntin' us? We gon' fffuckin' KILL YOU!" Kurt nonchalantly flicked some dirt out of his claw and mumbled, "Ok, sure. Whatever." Guido was apparently trying to knock out Kurt with a really intense glare when Geoff, now very confident, suggested 3 one-on-one fights to decide the better group, and the three aggressors hastily accepted, eager to fight. "Well, one of you get them," Guido shouted at his companions. Ragnarok the bull stepped out, "Hey wolf-boy. Yeah, you. I'm callin' you out, wolf-boy." Kurt muttered something that I could just make out as having something to do with "Epsilon Semi-Moron" as he stepped out into the middle of the circle as well, audibly responding while shrugging his shoulders, "Welp, here I am. Come and get it, punk."

Ragnarok charged at Kurt head-on, determined to take the wolf down with brute force. Luckily for Kurt, the bull was an idiot. First of all, if he was any bigger than Kurt, it wasn't by much. Even with the momentum he would gain while charging, he wouldn't be able to produce enough force to completely overpower him. Second, Kurt WASN'T an idiot. If he was knocked down, he knew enough about fighting to still beat up the bull, but he really didn't have to worry about that. The wolf merely stepped out of the way, throwing off Ragnarok's rush, and extended his arm at the level of the bull's neck, clothes-hanging him and causing him to fall flat on his back. Ragnarok struggled to roll over and get up, and then, apparently not learning a damned thing from his first foray, attempted to come straight at Kurt again. Already in close proximity, the bull dashed forward and threw a punch, which made solid contact with the air as Kurt got down low and used the bull's own momentum to lift him up, wrapping his arms around his legs, then forced him to the ground, still holding on to his legs and immobilizing him. Unable to do shit with nearly 300 pounds of lupine muscle on his lower limbs, the bull was forced to submit, giving the good guys the first win within about 30 seconds.

Kurt let the poor sap go and walked back over to Geoff and I, completely unscathed, commenting, "I've faced tougher guys in my day. My punching bag, for instance. Much better fighter all-around than that dipshit. I'm sure you won't have any trouble with the other guy, Alex. These guys probably haven't ever been in a fair fight before." The wolf and I shared a fist bump before I walked out to the center of the circle for my turn. The horse, Raznok, did the same, generally looking like he just didn't want to be there. I don't know what Guido had on him, but for a second I just kinda felt bad for the guy. Then I forced that out of my mind because my job was to beat the fur off that guy, not talk about his feelings.

I momentarily looked back, receiving a smile and wink from Natalya, and thumbs-up from Kurt and Geoff, then turned back around and faced my opponent. The horse was remarkably less stupid than his bovine counterpart, forgoing an all-out surge for slower, more calculated movements. Even though he was clearly much larger than me, he figured that if he did charge, he'd just wind up like his buddy. So, he advanced cautiously, his fists up in front of his face in a standard boxing stance. I got into a similar stance and edged closer to him, keeping just enough distance between us. Not that I needed to do any of this; I had been trained to physically dominate people since I was ten years old. I was just humoring him. Hey, this guy seemed salvageable. Maybe a legit fight could set him on the true path.

Thinking he still had some sort of size advantage, Raznok threw the first punch.

He missed.

To be fair, I did *deftly* sidestep the attack, seeing it coming from a mile away. I chose not to counter at that time though, preferring to see what he did next. He stepped back, then came right up again, this time changing it up slightly, faking a punch with his left hoof, then throwing a right cross. Still without any issue, I ducked under it and jabbed him quickly in the gut, not doing any real damage, but giving him something to think about. He breathed in sharply and bent over just noticeably from the dual shock of getting hit and being made to look like a fool, and I backed away a few steps. I could see he was starting to get frustrated as he closed in again. Raznok lunged at me, sending a sufficiently powerful punch in my direction. Of course, this missed too, as I surged under his arm, and once I was behind him, I kicked out the back of his knee. With the loss of balance from the combination of my successful attack and his not-as-successful one, Raznok received a free taste test of the dirt of the Rivers' farm. I stood about maybe six feet behind him, still yet to break a sweat, while the horse struggled to get back on his feet.

Raznok stood up and turned to face me, dirt-stained and with cuts on his face and one of his arms. He looked nothing short of disheartened at this point, like he had no motivation to continue fighting. I heard Kurt shout from the side somewhere, "C'mon, man, stop being a dick. He's had enough, just end the fight." I was about to do just that when I accidentally did the most offensive thing possible in that situation: I yawned. Hey, to be perfectly honest, I was bored. I don't mean to sound like a tool, but I was a way better fighter than this guy, and it was all starting to get old. Thing is, that really pissed Raznok off. It was bad enough that he was getting beat; me yawning only hammered in that fact like a jagged, rusty nail, and visible signs of anger began to emerge on his face. At this point I even got a little nervous. I had no idea what this guy could really do if he was aggravated enough. But then I calmed down, because hey, fuck it, compared to this guy I'm the goddamn Batdog. Also when I thought of this I really wanted "Straight Outta Compton" to start playing in the background somehow. Or at least "How I Could Just Kill a Man". Something like that.

The enraged equine ran at me head on, driven by emotion to make the same stupid mistake his companion did. I sighed a little, then got ready as he propelled his hardest punch yet, moving so fast the furs watching probably couldn't even comprehend what was happening. I'm sure he thought he had me, but I didn't share that sentiment. I shifted to the outside of his body, then grabbed his rocketing wrist and redirected it to his center, and simultaneously rammed my forearm into his gut, just under the ribcage. Staying in this position, I swept out his legs from under him and pushed him backwards with my forearm, causing him to fall flat on his back. Understandably, Raznok was still stunned from the assault he just took, and I found it easy to flip him over with my foot, still holding his arm. Once he was lying face down, I grabbed his other arm and pulled both of them behind his back, telling him, "Give up, or they break."

He quickly vocalized his surrender.

I let his arms go, and after he rolled over, I offered him a paw to help him up, which he gladly accepted. He fought a fair fight, so I thought I'd keep the whole "honorable" thing going. Plus, I probably smashed his ego in two when I turned his most ferocious attack into something that made him look like a four year old colt trying to tackle his dad, but hey, that's why they pay me the big bucks, so I didn't feel like it was necessarily fair for him. I slapped him on the back and told him quietly, "Come talk to me after this is done," and then more loudly, "Better luck next time." Raznok had potential, I could see it. But he wasn't gonna get anywhere following this Guido dipshit around.

I walked back to where everyone else was, and moved to where Kurt was talking to Geoff. "Oh hey Alex, nicely done. I'm just giving Geoff some pointers for taking out Sylvester Stallone's wannabe cousin over there," the massive wolf told me, "Any input?" "You don't even really need input in my opinion," I commented, "This guy's probably used to others doing all of his work for him. Just go straight at him and start wailing on him. He'll collapse in like, four seconds." "Alright, looks like it's time for a beatdown then," Geoff acknowledged, "I've wanted to do this for a while now."

The two collies stepped into the middle of the circle, and for the first time, I joined the circle, lacing my fingers with Natalya's and quickly kissing her before proceeding to watch the main event. Guido was clearly intimidated, but his ego drove him to continue with his verbal diarrhea. Most of the stuff he was saying didn't even make sense to me, but judging from Geoff's reactions, they definitely made sense to him. One of the taunts that made a huge impact was one apparently about a past romantic interest of Geoff's, "Hey, I wonder where that barncat whore of yours ran off to, Geoff. They said she disappeared off the old farm," Geoff looked confused as Guido continued, "Word on the street is she's bouncing around all over the place, doing whatever's er... necessary... to get what she needs," Geoff started breathing heavily and clenching his fists, "Yeah, Geoff. That. She's doin' that. Rumor is, she was just tryin' to get back to you, too. Her brother even blames you for her leavin'. Though, I have heard a thing or two about how she might be carrying on more because she likes it than because she's out to see you." Geoff exploded, "YOU'RE A LIAR! YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR! How can you say that about Miranda? I know she left, but, you're a fool if you believe that bullshit."

Guido smirked, "Oh really, Geoff? My sources don't lie too often, and b'sides, why would you even care? You've seemed to move on to this ugly French waste of space pretty quickly anyway." Geoff was seething with rage, "When I moved, Miranda told me to start over, and that's what I tried to do. It hasn't worked, but goddamn if I haven't tried. And don't you say a damned word about Charlotte; if you need a visual example of what ugly is just go look in the fuckin' mirror." "Oh yeah, if you're pissed now, why don't you come and fight like a real male, huh? Fight for whatever bitch you fuckin' want, it doesn't matter to me, pussy."

Geoff didn't say anything after that. He didn't have to. He just strutted up to Guido and socked him right in the face. It was brutal. It was intense. It was beautiful. Guido stumbled backwards a couple of steps, then attempted to come at Geoff. He didn't make it too far. Geoff started throwing body shots, lowering whatever meager defense Guido had, then started beating the fur off his face. Geoff pulled his leg back, then kicked Guido in the chest, causing him to fall onto his back. He then pounced on him and started absolutely wailing on him, screaming, "Don't you EVER talk shit about Miranda OR Charlotte again!" It wasn't even a fight. It never WAS a fight. And it was starting to get a little out of control.

I looked at Kurt, and he looked back and nodded, as if we had communicated telepathically, then we ran out into the middle of the circle and pulled Geoff off of Guido and calmed him down. Geoff started to cool down as we stood there, looking at his handiwork. Guido was quite literally a bloody mess. A few tears trickled down his face, mixing with the dirt and blood and moistening the soil around him. I knelt down next to him and said, "This is what happens when you instigate. Don't ever do anything like you did today again. Anything. Do I make myself clear?" Guido nodded, and I stood up as Raznok and Ragnarok helped him to his feet.

"I guess we won then," said Geoff, observing the states of the aggressors. "Yep, they shouldn't be bothering you anymore," Kurt agreed. "So now that we're done with all the painful stuff, I have a question," I announced, "What are their real names? I mean, come on, nobody names their kid Raznok." "Oh, right," Geoff said, cracking a smile for the first time in what seemed like ages, "Raznok is Eugene, Ragnarok is Willard, and Cousin Guido is Cletus. And yes, Cletus actually is my cousin." Kurt and I laughed heartily, and I commented, "Eugene, Willard, and Cletus? Jeez, I can understand the need for nicknames now."

With everything settled, the circle began to disperse, and I headed over to Natalya. "Great job. They deserved it," the vixen told me, nodding toward the failtastic trio. "And yet I still feel terrible," I confided in her, "At least they'll finally stop." Natalya saw something out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to face it with a puzzled expression, "I guess it's all a big happy ending for Geoff today too." I looked in the direction Natalya was looking to find Geoff and Charlotte hugging it out, the skunk apparently holding a better opinion of the collie after the fight. The picturesque moment was smashed, however, by another southern drawl, this time female, "AWWWWWW, does little Jeffy have another girlfriend? That is so cute!" Charlotte buried her blushing face in Geoff's shoulder, and Geoff sighed, "Get out of here, Sheila. You're killing the mood." "Oh yeah, because you're smooth enough to create a mood. Really though, I heard a commotion over here, what happened?" "Oh nothing. Cletus and his group got violent so me and a couple friends beat the shit out of them." "Geoff, what the hell?! Mom would kill you if she found out!" "Well, you're not going to tell her are you?" "No, only because I know they deserved it. But I can see them from here. Cousin Cletus is a mess, someone's gonna ask questions. Who were you with anyway?"

By this point Natalya and I had already advanced to where this conversation was occurring, and I partially answered Sheila's question by clearing my throat and raising a paw. Charlotte extricated herself from Geoff to see what was going on, and Geoff saw this as an opportunity to make introductions, "Sheila, this is Alex, he's a friend from school that fought Eugene, this is Natalya, Alex's girlfriend, and this is my friend Charlotte." Charlotte shook her head, and Geoff responded with a confused and slightly distressed expression, then the skunk corrected, "Girlfriend." Geoff got all red in the face and whatnot, and stumbled over his words as he said, "A-and, Al-lex, Natalya, and C-Charlotte, this is my sister Sheila. Sheila, the other guy who fought with me is the wolf over there, Kurt."

"Nice to meet y'all," Sheila said with a big smile, "Geoff, you didn't tell me you had such cute friends." "His friends are taken, too," Natalya informed her, grabbing my arm. "Relax," Sheila said, chuckling, "I have a good male already. Sweet, romantic, ex-military, runs a big organization, very, very handsome. I'm not saying I'm expecting a ring, but I wouldn't be terribly opposed to one." "And we still haven't met him," Geoff said with an unimpressed expression. "Shut up, Geoff! He's a busy male!" "I can't imagine why. How much work could a figment of your imagination possibly have?" As the siblings continued their bickering, I got a good look at Sheila. She was a collie, just like Geoff, and looked to be in her mid-20s. She was also smoking hot. She wore a plaid shirt that was tied off above her midriff and denim shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination, as well as some leather boots that matched the environment. The shirt was opened a bit so some of her impressive bust, which rivaled Toni's (you'll meet her later, if you don't know who she is) in sheer size, was shown to the world, and long brown hair floated down her neck and back.

If I didn't already have to girls who were equally if not more attractive at my beck and call, I probably would have drooled, and I'm fairly certain some of my friends DID drool at the sight of her. The description of her boyfriend did seem a little strange though...

Anyway, most of that day and the ensuing night passed without a hitch. We hung out with Geoff's family some more, and they were all pretty chill people. I talked to Eugene for a while, convinced him that he should find a better outlet for his natural fighting ability. He said he'd stop running with Cletus, too, so maybe he could really change his own life. I don't know.

By nighttime, we all circled around a bonfire, songs were sung, a fair amount of snuggling commenced (much of it by Geoff and Charlotte, which none of us saw coming twelve hours prior), and we all just relaxed and had a good time. I was all excited for Spring Break then. I'd have a little more than a solid week to just take it easy and have fun like a regular high-schooler.

HA. Yeah right, I could barely keep a straight face there. Of course that wouldn't happen, because it's just never that damn easy for me, is it? Nope, it just so happened that a megalomaniac would decide to set his plans into motion right as I started my vacation. So of course I had to go stop him, because apparently a teenage assassin/soldier/ninja/demigod (I might have exaggerated) is the world's only damn hope at salvation.

Yay. Lucky me.