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Hey everyone!

Looks what I got for you Sorry for taking so long to post a new chapter, but there it is! I hope you will like it, and I would like to hear it too I'm still full of ideas for this series, so much to write, and I'm happy you are reading it

As always, thank you Gritou, for being the amazing man you are *hug*

"Are you sure you don't wanna come, Ale?" The lupo asked, one of his paws holding the small cup that marked a true Italian coffee. His mom had gifted him a Nespresso1 last Christmas, and he had been using it intensively ever since; it was pretty close to what you got in a bar2, without having a crowd around you.

The questioned rottie was slouched on the couch, zapping through the channels in the vain attempt to find something even remotely interesting to watch on a Saturday morning. His shirt and boxers had the minimal amount of perspiration, something amazing considering the heat.

"Maybe it's the shorter fur." Luca thought to himself, waiting for the answer while hovering over his friend; he had just come out of the shower and he hadn't dried his fur all the way, letting the air do the rest of the work and, in turn, refresh him a bit longer. That also meant not sitting on the couch, but he was a big boy, he could handle that.

"Uuuuhmm, whut? Going where?" The buff dog said, his eyes fixed on the TV and a bit unfocused. Or so they seemed to the restorer once he padded in front of him; he didn't like to just be a voice over his shoulder, and that way the conversation would be more natural.

"Hello? Terra chiama Ale3?" Luca waived his paw in front of the sitting dog, trying to catch some attention. The rottie had just woken up, sure, but he shouldn't be that much foggy-headed. "The tour for Stanley. It's Saturday, ricordi4?"

The muscled canine blinked twice, but his eyes seemed still distracted, clouded by his thoughts. "Oh, yeah. That." He simply said, his voice flat.

The lupine waited for him to add more, staying there and lightly slamming his footpaw on the floor with impatience. His friend had been like that since his day off, distracted, answering with monosillabi5; that happened to the best, sure, so the tall lupo wasn't worried yet.

"So?" He asked again, gesturing his paw in a circle motion so to press him a bit for an answer; in doing so he unsettled the balance of his towel, which slipped, showing his goods for a brief moment.

"So what?" The dark furred male repeated, the initial question seemingly forgotten. His stare had lingered for a second on the uncovered crotch of his roommate before it was averted, though there was no need for it since Luca had put the towel back in place quickly.

"Do you want to come or not?" The lupine rumbled, not letting any kind of redness appearing under his fur, though he didn't manage to stop his ears from moving on his skull. Over the years they had seen each other's junk too many times to be embarrassed by that.

"Oh. Oh!" Finally, it seemed that the sleepy head was gaining some resemblance of reasoning, his mind grasping the simple words. "Thank you for asking, but I'd rather not."

The answer puzzled Luca a bit. It had been delivered in a weird tone, at least for Ale, and even if his friend was more present now, his eyes had still a strange light...

"Stai... Stai bene, Ale6?" The lupine said, stepping forward and closer to the other canine.

"Uhm, yeah. Why do you ask?" The rottie responded, but his words rang of lies. If Luca hadn't been worried before, now he was; not too much, but definitely something was wrong with his friend.

"You seem to be a bit... off." The tall restorer timidly spoke, lightly probing Ale. He drank what remained of his coffee, turned cold by now, and he would have sat besides the other if he didn't have to prepare himself.

"I'm just tired, that's all." The Rottweiler snorted, his eyes returning to the TV screen. That could be an answer, sure, he might been tired, after all he had passed his off day at the beach with Clara...

"Well, okay. I'm going to dress myself and then go." He ended the conversation, even if he wasn't satisfied with the answers he got. But he had to go; else he would arrive late, even though he felt the need to pry out of his friend what was wrong. The lupine padded to his room, leaving the little cup in the kitchen's sink on the way there, posed besides the dishes of last night's dinner.

The lupo caught his friend turned to look at him while he was closing the door, as if he wanted to tell him something; but the rottie turned back to watch the TV so suddenly that it was very unlikely. Sighing, he went to his wardrobe, taking out clothes comfortable and light enough for a long walk in the hot day.

All the while he kept thinking about Ale and his strange mood, between considering what shirt to wear, if a normal one or a lacoste. He had expected the complete contrary from the rottie, after the whole day and night spent with Clara, as he had expected himself to be in a foul mood for being left alone, however illogical that might had been.

"Maybe the lacoste should do..." The lupine decided finally, posing the chosen garment on his bed while he went in search for suitable pants. It was ironic that he was the one being happy: the dinner at Sara's had been very delightful in the end, the conversation fun and lively, and he had discovered that Stanley was a very nice guy to be around.

Maybe there were problems with Clara... that would explain a lot after all, though it would be sad if true. Even after the talk with Sara, he still thought they were made for each other, and their love was just starting; it was too early for them to grow apart, and... And... He didn't want for his friend to be unhappy.

The funny thing was that, with all the stuff he had to do recently, he had scarcely time to worry about himself, or the lack of romance in his life. Maybe he had been pouring all his angst in work and making Ale's own love life better; not that he mind too much, after all he liked to help out his best friend.

Judging that his fur was dry enough, he started to dress up, having opted for normal trousers, letting the towel fall at his feet so he could slip his underwear in its stead, covering his rump and his gioielli7. Swiftly, he put some deodorant under his arm pits, since the day was going to be long, hot and sweaty, and no one liked a smelly dog.

"Well, some do." The lupo chuckled by himself. The American Stanley didn't mind it at all, for example; and maybe he should find someone with the same liking of musky lupine... Maybe he could ask Guido to accompany him in that endeavour...

Luca shook his head, getting rid of thoughts like that; he was going to guide some youngsters, after all, and he didn't want to be boned up or distracted, thinking about possible and theoretical sex. He quickly put on the pants and the shirt, picking up the most comfortable shoes he had, the ones he always put on when touring, and went out of his room, the perfect picture of a calm and well-dressed Roman.

Padding back in the living room, the wolf find Ale in the same position he had left him, watching the soulless TV programs of the week-end, a hair away from scratching his balls, he would bet.

"Last chance of hopping on the tour, Ale!" He cheerfully exclaimed to his friend, looking at the dance his triangular black ears were doing thanks to the sudden words.

"Nah, I don't feel like going out. I prefer passing the day lazing around!" Was the response, the rottie sounding more like himself now. Maybe he had been really just sleepy and tired....

"Are you going to see Clara today? If you don't...." The lupo left the question hanging, since he always felt so uneasy when asking stuff to anyone. He realized too late that the black canine might take it for something else, leading to him being annoyed.

"Perhaps. But you can take the moto8 if you want. I can use the car!" The other restorer blown away any doubt and worry, rightly guessing what his friend was demanding. Sighing for the narrowly escaped peril, he scooped keys and documents of the motorcycle.

"Well, thank you Ale! I will let you know when I come back!" The lupo said just to let him know he could do whatever he wanted while he was away.

"I know, I know, it's fine! Have fun with those kids!" The rottie waved good-bye to him without turning, his meaty arm in the air. Even though he had the resolution to talk with his friend more seriously, Luca was content enough and exited their apartment, closing the door behind him and calling the elevator once outside. He could have just taken the stairs, but he was going to walk a lot that day, he shouldn't begin just yet!

With a metallic sound the doors opened, welcoming him in and accepting his orders; there was a faint smell in the air, of onions and lavender, oddly enough, a smell that he associated with...

"O Dio9." The lupo groaned, recognizing the weird stench that followed la signora Bianchini everywhere she went. It was never pleasant to meet her... Trapping you in her rants about the condominio10, lamenting of this or that neighbour, and never letting you go. The doors opened into the base floor, and he dashed out, making it to the garage as quick as he could without running.

All the while he prayed that the elderly vixen had been tending to the plants, or went home, not lingering in the garage to do only God knew what. He didn't want to hear her complaining how Desalvo was using too much water, electricity, he wasn't the boss of the building, oh no he wasn't, they should tell that in the next meeting!

Shuddering at the thought, Luca reached their box, already wide and open, Ale's moto resting besides his own car. He retrieved the helmet from the small trunk at the rear of the motorcycle, where he usually left it; Ale usually took it upstairs, since he preferred to take it wherever he went.

Carefully, he posed it on his head, leading his tall ears in their sockets, where they would be protected from everything; it was always a weird feeling, the fact he couldn't move them when wearing a helmet. Sure, there was a bit of space so they could move just a bit, but a full blown flick was impossible. The lupine had been just terrorized about that when he was younger, and he remembered, to his shame, crying a couple of times.

It was just a bother now, a big one but still not that much, plus his personal helmet was designed to be the most comfortable for the big, perky eared. Flying on leg above the moto, he started it and got out of the box, stopping outside just to initiate the automatic gate leading to the street. The lupine glimpsed the familiar greyed vixen in a pink dress, talking with one unfortunate soul just outside the entering door, and he thanked whoever had heard and answered his prayer.

The road was just clear, not even a car passing at the moment. That was to be expected, during summer the city emptied itself in the week-ends, granting streets without traffic to the few that remained behind for that reason or another. Sure, his own street never was full of cars, but the emptiness remained once he turned to take Corso Francia11, the three lane road holding just a handful of vehicles.

Luck was with him, since he caught all the lights green, which let him go at a very past speed, taking him a minute to arrive to the river. He turned right in front of the Ponte Flaminio12, the old Milvian bridge flashing to his left while he darted forward; even the heart of North Rome's movida was quite that morning, the usual crowd of happy furs still being under their blankets at that hour.

Forward the motorcycle brought him, a semaphore blocking him in front of the Olympic Stadium, the tall obelisk shading him and declaring in big letters who build it, back when Italy had been as dark as the heart of darkness. Luca had always wondered why they hadn't bothered to scrap the big MVSSOLINI engraving from it, in all those decades; he guessed that no one cared, as usual in the Stivale13.

Soon, it was past the memorial of years long past and dashing through the street, following the watery snake of the Tiber and entering Prati, the last of the Rioni14to be added to the list before they stopped. The road went up and down some tunnels, making the drive a bit like a rollercoaster for the lupine, though a safe and enjoyable one if you didn't consider the amount of holes that added some risks.

The last tunnel resurfaced in front of the Palazzo di Giustizia, commonly known as Palazzaccio15by the people, a towering white parallelepiped of stony late Mannerism style, sitting besides the river. Just after it stood another massive building, one that had lost its marble fifteen centuries before, leaving only the brownish stones to the open air; but the bare structure had survived in the years as a fortress and a place of justice, however wicked it might had been at times.

Luca went around buttresses of Castel Sant'Angelo, once the final resting place of good Emperor Hadrian, crowned by cypress and statues of great beauty. The trees had been cut down, the statues smashed, those made of bronze melted long ago to be used for weapons; but the building had remained and survived so much, seen so many events happen in its walls, ever mute, ever watching.

Under the Passetto16the wolf went, the covered passage that had brought the popes from the Vatican apartments to the safety of the Castle so many times in the centuries, and again stopped at a semaphore, forced to wait there for the pilgrims to pass. Not that he really minded that, the position made him possible to admire Saint Peter from afar, through the architectonical crime that was via Della Conciliazione that had ruined the perspective so meticulously planned by the great Bernini.

The tall restorer didn't have much time to think about what Mussolini had done, since the traffic moved forward, a car behind him honked at him just mere seconds after the light turned green. Luca didn't have the sanguine disposition of his rottie friend, and didn't gesture at the rude driver, just went forward and forward.

Through another tunnel he went, and at the end he found Regina Coeli17 at his left, one of the two prisons of the capital, strangely located near the most saint spot in all Catholic Christianity. He didn't know why they built it there, if it had been there since the popes or added to scorn the Holy See, back when the Kingdom of Italy was still in quarrels with the Church.

The sight of the prison meant he needed to start looking for a spot where to park, since even at that hour of the Saturday there weren't many in the neighbourhood called Trastevere. Luckily, he found it a bit before Piazza Trilussa, enough space between a big SUV and a red FIAT Panda; he hastily filled it, being careful to leave enough room for the cars, and dismounted, his eyes going to the clock and calculating that it had been taken twenty minutes to arrive there.

Donning off the helmet, he sighed in the newly found freedom of flicking his ears as much as it pleased him, something that he did with childish glee while putting it to rest in the trunk. He retrieved the padlock too, with the same action, and in a second he was kneeling over the front wheel to secure the moto. Better to be sure than sorry, he didn't want a snarling Rottweiler after all.

Content with the deed, the lupine straightened up and walked away, being sure that the keys were back in his pocket. The Piazza was just a few meters away, the monumental fountain looming at one end; the open space wasn't completely deserted, some tourists walking toward the bridge or deeper in the narrow streets.

Luca chuckled without thinking when he rightly guessed the nationality of a group of German bears, just by looking at their footpaws; not many wear socks and sandals at the same time, to his knowledge. There were a couple of Asian foxes too, chatting in Japanese, Chinese or Korean, he didn't even know; they were armed with cameras and, once their eyes locked with Luca's, they gestured to him for a photo, ever politely.

The lupo obliged with a smile, no words needed to speak up their instructions, just the universal gestures that any fur in the world recognized. The three reddish foxes postured in front of the steps, the fountain in the background, small smiles on their narrow muzzles when he took the photos.

They were happy enough of the results, bowing their thanks to the Italian stranger, and off they were in a jiff, ready to take more photos. Luca just smiled, he was used to such happenings and he always liked to help strangers, even when they didn't understand each other.

Looking again at his watch, he learned that there was plenty of time before the rendezvous with the three younger furs, maybe he could go to have another coffee or just wandering through Trastevere and killing some time with doing that and-

"Heya!" A voice purred loudly.

Translation:

1) What else?

2) Bar in Italy means a coffee place, like Starbucks.

3) Earth calls Ale!

4) Remember?

5) Monosyllables.

6) Are... Are you okay Ale?

7) Jewels.

8) Short for motorcycle.

9) Oh God.

10) Condominium. I honestly didn't think the word was the same in English.

11) Road in North Rome that runs until the place where the Via Flaminia and Via Cassia divide.

12) Flaminian bridge, another relic of the fascist period.

13) Boot. Affectionate name for the Italian peninsula.

14) Medieval Rome was divided in neighbourhoods called Rioni. Prati was the last one before they stopped the tradition.

15) Bad palace.

16) Small Passage.

17) The ironic name for one of the two Roman prisons is Queen of the Heavens. Really!