FSE

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Somehow, somewhere, Slippy Toad knew something had gone terribly wrong. The young frog panted, almost hyperventilating as he tried to calm himself down. His eyes darted around the small room he ran into, vaguely recalling it as a lobby. The fact that he just ran out of a large conference room in a fit of hysterics was not lost on him, and as the swell of panic slowly started to fade, he could feel his cheeks burn up at what the others in the room must've thought of him.

It wasn't everyday that anyone was commissioned to work on one of the military's leading projects, and, while reluctant at first, he did manage to take some pride in his mechanics. It said a lot for the Academy drop-out. Though any credibility he most likely carried was now undoubtedly to be put into question. What did it say about one of their lead developers if he burst into random hysterics at the drop of a hat for no adequately explained reason?

Still, Slippy knew something happened. He usually only got feelings like that with his machines, and only after they were damaged or destroyed. The fact that it hit so strong meant that it happened in dry dock as well, and while it dismissed any notion of an enemy attack, it instantly made the amphibian recall his temporary replacement. The young Toad sat in a chair, rubbing his snout as he thought the worst.

His musings were disrupted at the sound of the automated double doors opening, then closing. Most likely they had gotten someone to tell him he was to be taken off the project, and then escort him out. So it came as a great surprise when his father, Beltino Toad, was there to greet him when he looked up. Slippy swallowed his anxiety, silently thankful that it was his father, at least, to bring him the news.

"Is everything alright son?" The elder Toad asked, tipping Slippy's head up to meet his gaze.

The younger frog shook his head slightly, rubbing his arms as he shivered.

"I've got this feeling... like something really bad happened back at the Great Fox. I'm not even sure why I felt it, or what even happened. And now everyone in that room probably thinks I'm a lunatic." His gaze fell to the floor, unable to face his father as he lamented. "I screwed up one of the greatest things that's happened to me, and in a field I excel in, all because of some weird feeling..." He shuddered, trying to keep his composure. "I'm sorry dad... and I'm sorry they made you be the one to tell me I'm gonna be let go."

Beltino regarded his son for a moment, taking note of his appearance. His outburst at the meeting had been hard to explain, but now, looking over the young engineer, he could see it. Slippy had the look of someone whose masterpiece had been ruined. And though his mercenary lifestyle had put his creations through many tough situations, there was rarely an instance in which his machines were completely destroyed.

Beltino sat next to his son, placing a webbed hand on his back, rubbing it reassuringly.

"Now, now, there's no need for that. That's not why I'm here at all." Beltino held a grin at his son's reaction, the frog turning his head so fast he was almost afraid he'd hurt something.

"Wha-you're not?"

"No, not at all. True, your actions caused some commotion, but most of them are more concerned then angry at you, my boy." Beltino drew his son in closer, pulling him into a half hug. "Many of these people know someone or are friends with someone who have similar reactions after war time. Andross' attack on Corneria has left many of the citizens and soldiers with scars of their own to face. A little outburst like that is a good sign, comparatively."

Slippy was silent for a while, sniffling lightly as he rested against his father. After a few minutes, he managed to calm himself before speaking up again. "So, they all still think I'm fit for the job?"

"A good majority are, and I convinced any of the doubters that they better know who they were speaking to when they questioned your judgment." He tightened his hug, giving the younger Toad a shake. "They'll be willing to start things back up again with full confidence in you."

Slippy's silence at the statement was slightly unnerving. He had expected his son to react with his usual pep and enthusiasm. Seeing him melancholy like this was never fitting for him. "If you want, we can take a break. Come back to this tomorrow after you've rested for a while." Beltino suggested.

The younger Toad took in a calming breath and shook his head. "No. Fox was confident that I'd be able to help this project along." He pulled himself out of the hug, standing up and wiping his face dry. "They have things over there covered, so there shouldn't be anything too bad happening. It's nothing they can't take care of without me!"

Slippy slapped his face with both hands, shaking himself as he jumped up, determination plastered on his face.

"That's the spirit!" Beltino stood up with his son, leading the way back to the conference room. "Now let's get busy! We do have a deadline to keep." He chuckled as he left the room.

His son nodded, shaking out his body as he prepped himself mentally. The things he'd be shown were miles above what he'd been taught in school, and he knew he'd regret not being able to learn from this experience if he chickened out.

Besides, Pepper said that the guy they got was well trained. He thought back to the foreboding feeling in his gut. 'If there was a problem, I'm sure they can get through it without me. At least for a day."

***

Fox sighed heavily as he walked towards the hangar bay. With his young charge... indisposed and in his room, he was left to clean up the mess left behind. Or at least get ready for the new intern to clean it up. What he wouldn't do to have Slippy here to help. The young Toad was always there to help with the small stuff. Even back at the Academy, he helped Fox with various things; studying for exams and dealing with any punishments that ended up with him doing physical labor.

"It's gonna be a long day..."

The vulpine captain was not looking forward to inspecting the damage. While the distraction had been nice, he did share some of the ire Falco had expressed towards the dog. He recalled Falco's words about firing a ship's laser in an enclosed space without consulting any of them first. It had actually been a sound criticism, in spite of his anger.

"Leave it to him to actually say something sensible in the middle of a tirade."

Fox sighed again as he arrived at the hanger bay door. He closed his eyes as he waited for the door to open, and braced himself for what was to come. Immediately, he winced as his nose was assaulted by the smell of smoke and burnt electronics.

"Argh, ROB!" He coughed, holding his nose. "Open a vent shaft in the hanger and filter this smoke out!"

"Affirmative" Came ROB's voice over the intercom.

Fox held his breath, keeping what little clean air was left in his lungs in until the room cleared. After several seconds, seeing the black cloud dissipate, he breathed easy.

"ROB, why didn't you tell me the hanger was filled with smoke?"

"None of the crew members were present or available. You had also said to not disturb you during your 'private time'." Fox could practically see the air quotes the robot was using and rubbed his forehead in frustration as his words were thrown back at him. "I had assumed with the nature of your and Field Technician Mayfield's activities that it would be categorized as such."

"Thank you, ROB" Fox said with thinly veiled sarcasm. "Though next time, bring me up to speed before I walk into the room!"

"Noted."

Fox pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly. He knew ROB meant well, but it sometimes showed that the robot was getting on in years, so to speak. It had been his father's after all. The captain sighed, now almost regretting Slippy's departure. He would know what to do to get ROB's attention back on track. Until then, he had the rest of his crew to worry about.

"ROB, have Peppy or Falco checked in yet?"

"Negative. Neither have contacted the Great Fox since their leave shortly after the explosion in the hanger."

"Peppy should be able to keep Falco out of trouble, hopefully." Yet another sigh passed the vulpine's muzzle. Falco was an entirely different matter, and for now he knew he had to leave things to their senior member. "Well, just report in if either comes back."

"Affirmative."

His thought done, Fox went to inspect the still mangled Arwing. It seemed that, sometime during their romp, the Arwing's cooling systems had fried, and discharged air from the wrong vent. That explained the cloud of smoke, at least. Any other problem was on the technical side, or out of the captain's expertise in handling. Seeing no further damages to the ship or hanger, Fox made his way back across the hanger, heading to the main hall.

"And tell Mitch to get his butt down here when he wakes up." He called just before walking through the door. "It's time to put him to work."

***

"That stupid idiot!" Falco slurred as he downed the rest of his drink. It burned his throat and filled him with nostalgia. Back in his gang days, this bar was one of his usual hangouts. It was like a home away from home, and right now he needed it. Though the place had been remodeled after its destruction in the Cornerian invasion, it still held enough of the classic charm to let Falco mellow out.

Falco looked down at his empty glass, clearing his throat to order another one. Before he could open his mouth though, the bartender, a rather burly looking pitbull, slid a full mug to him.

"Compliments of the fellow in back." He said gruffly, pointing to a booth in the back.

"Thanks", Falco said slowly. "Same as before?"

"That's what he said." The dog nodded before walking away to tend to the other patrons.

He eyed the booth, trying to get a good view of his "admirer". Unfortunately, the only thing that was visible to him was a bit of a black sleeve, the visitor sitting away from his line of sight. Not the greatest signs to the avian. He turned back and watched his drink, sloshing the amber liquid gently around its container. It took a little while, with his unfocused eyes and the bad lighting, but he did notice something suspicious. The drink was definitely a lighter shade than the one he ordered before.

He picked up the mug and walked to the booth, rolling his neck around as he limbered up for any potential confrontation. Ever since the end of the Lylat war, there were always a few stragglers that held a grudge and would hire an assassin to do away with the team. Each one was swiftly beaten, and they had become a minor occurrence that served to halt the endless boredom the mercenaries were finding themselves in.

This one would be no different, Falco thought as he reached the booth. He roughly grabbed the occupant's shoulder and shoved him down on the seat, standing over the figure.

"Alright, who do you think you-!?" His words caught in throat as he saw the very familiar figure staring back at him. "Peppy!?"

"Heh, glad to see I caught you before you went off the deep end." The Hare was dressed in a black trench coat and even had a matching fedora, his long ears poking through two holes on top of the hat. "How do I look? Pretty convincing, huh?

"Yeah, like a mobster from a film 30 years ago. Peppy, why are you serving me a drugged drink?" Falco said in one breath, huffing slightly. He held the mug up to his friend's muzzle.

"It's not drugged. I told the barkeep to water it down for you." At Falco's confused stare he continued. "I didn't want you to get drunk off your ass and do something you might regret." His tone was firm, and his eyes piercing. Falco leaned back to let the hare up and took a seat on the other side of the booth. "You go overboard when you get mad like this. Either you get trigger happy in the skies or try to beat them to death on the ground."

Falco sighed, putting his head in his feathered hands. "The guy blew up my ship, man. I mean who does that?"

"He was a little overzealous. That's all." A smirk grew on his muzzle. "Not so long ago, I remember a reckless young pilot who had a similar idea once before. Had to have a certain vulpine talk him out of it before he blew our funding on repairs before we left dry dock."

"That was different," Falco pointed at the Hare, a hand still covering half his face. "I was inexperienced and had no formal training! Hell, I still don't have any! So why do I know something they should be teaching in flight school!?"

"He may have had training, but that doesn't mean he isn't as eager or overzealous as you once were. He made a mistake. We all do." Peppy took hold of Falco's still raised hand, bringing it down to the table. "He'll clean up his messes just like you did. What's important is that no one got hurt."

"So, you're saying I should go back and apologize to the guy, right?" Falco sighed, leaning against his other hand now.

"I'm saying you shouldn't do anything crazy or that you might regret. Now, I told the bartender to make any of your drinks watered down for the rest of the night. That way, at least your liver will make it through this intact."

"Yeah, great. Gonna drink all my troubles away in half baked liquor. There's a party. Thanks, mom." He shook his head, chuckling softly.

"Heh, Mom indeed," the old hare laughed, sliding out of his seat.

"Hey, where are you going? You except me to hitch a ride half drunk?"

"I expect you to not wreck yourself while you vent." He looked back expectantly at the avian. Falco looked back at him incredulously. He could see from his expression, the old Hare expected him to stay sober enough to walk back to the ship. "I'll be waiting back at the Great Fox."

"Of course you will." He wore a grin on his beak the whole time, and took a swig of his drink as Peppy left the bar.

***

Sleep came easy to the tired mutt. He had never had such a great night's sleep in too long. The young canine rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, sitting up to stretch. And that was when he felt a sharp sting from his posterior. Immediately, he laid down again, paws coming to rub his rump.

"Ow... what did I sit on...?" He whined for a moment longer until the sting faded.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and saw a very unfamiliar sight to him. A room, barely furnished and containing only the bare essentials met his gaze. The dim lighting of the room weren't like back at home, and the window, showing what he expected to be the Cornerian docking bay, was equally unfamiliar

from above him was unlike his own dwelling and the window showing what looked to be the docking bay at Corneria were also undoubtably unfamiliar.

Then it came to him. His assignment, meeting Beltino and the StarFox crew, getting to explore the GreatFox. Then he cringed as he remembered his systems check on the Arwings and his less then stellar job on Falco's. The dull pain in his rear reminded him of Fox's method to cheer him up, and he swallowed as he realized he was in a room on the GreatFox.

Obviously a guest room, he noted. It was true, the sparsely decorated and smallish room did seem more like a guest room. Though it still made him grin. It made him feel like an official member of the team.

His priorities came back to him a minute later, so he scanned the room for a clock. After a few turns, he found a wall mounted one, its numbers reading 22:12, a little after 10 p.m. if he remembered right. Dimly, his prior training kicked in, waiting for him to kick himself at the time slip. Instead, he only sighed. He knew Fox wouldn't be like his instructors back in basic, but he wouldn't be pleased either. After a quick stretch, the dog set off for the bridge, hoping the vulpine captain would be up and in a talking mood.

***

"Greetings Field Technician Mayfield." ROB called from his station as Mitch walked onto the bridge. The gold plated robot was facing away from several monitors, each one showing a section of the Great Fox.

"Hey, ROB." Mitch waved halfheartedly. "Where is everybody?"

"Falco and Peppy left Great Fox not long after the blast in the hanger bay and have yet to return," The casual mention of his folly caused the dog's ears to fall back, his only sign of embarrassment. "Fox is assessing the damage to the Arwing. He is currently-"

"ROB!" Fox's voice shouted out from the multi-screened wall. Both the dog and robot turned to one of the screens that looked completely black. "Open a vent in the hanger and filter this smoke out!"

"Affirmative" ROB replied, his mechanical fingers typing away at the panel below the screens. Little by little, the gray wall of smoke obstructing the monitor gave way, and the image of the still wrecked Arwing, along with Fox doing his best to not suffocate, was revealed.

Mitch inwardly cursed himself, seeing the extent of the damage. Though he never worked on the Arwing before, he was still highly trained in repairing fighter crafts. Hell, he was planning on getting a degree on the subject if possible. Now it seemed that that dream was in the same state as the ship he tried repairing; up in smoke.

The dog sighed, turning his head to look out the window, tuning out ROB and Fox's conversation. Now, more then ever, he wished he had more combat experience. Schematics and simulations were one thing, but back then, the feel of the controls moving and reacting as they did were a marvel to behold. He'd be lying if he said his makeshift method to remove the obstructing object wasn't just him wanting to fire the Arwing's blasters just one time.

"Well, just report in if either comes back." Mitch turned his head, looking at the robot as he finished his conversation.

"Affirmative."

Mitch watched Fox take one last look at the Arwing, and swallowed lightly when he saw the mercenary leader walk back the main hall. "And tell Mitch to get his butt down here. Time to put him to work."

"Affirmative." A light click signified the com link closed. "Fox has requested-"

"Yeah, I heard him," the canine chuckled a little, heading to the door. "Tell him I'll be right down."

"Affirmative," came ROB's reply as the doors closed.

***

"So, how bad is it?" Fox called to the Arwing's open canopy. It had been at least an hour since the technician's repairs got underway, and it looked like he was finally finishing up. A small pile of charred parts lay on the floor below, most of them from the destroyed cone.

"Well, good news is I can repair the hull." Mitch said, dropping down from the canopy. "As well as fix the lasers, I think. Just gotta get the right parts."

"And the bad news?" Fox waved a paw for him to continue.

"The blast did some major damage to the central control system. I can barely get anything to respond. Whoever built that bomb knew what they were doing and how to make sure the ship went out of the air."

"What did that bomb do? How bad did it muck up the systems?"

"Well, to put it simply..." Fox was briefly reminded of Slippy for a moment, and was grateful that the dog had opted to spare him a headache by speaking in technicals and formulas. "There was sort of an electromagnetic discharge when the blast went off. It scrambled the Arwing's CPU and now all of the controls are scrambled. Specifically the G-diffuser system."

"So it's grounded then?" Fox winced at Mitch's nod. "Falco's gonna be pretty ticked."

"Well, there is more good news. We just gotta replace the computer parts, and there shouldn't be any lasting effects after everything's fixed." The dog paused to stretch, grunting as he popped his joints. "I'm not specialized for that kinda work yet, unfortunately. I mean, I could get the parts, but I don't think I would be able to repair the CPU. At least not with how bad it's fried."

"It's alright, we'll get in contact with Slippy as soon as possible." Fox put a paw on the dog's shoulder. "You did well for your first day, no matter what Falco said earlier."

"Thank you... sir" He added on, somewhat hesitantly. Fox had to stop himself rolling his eyes.

"Don't get all army soldier on me, all at once. Now go back to your quarters and clean up. You reek!"

"Yes sir!" Mitch nodded and saluted on reflex, earning him a chuckle from the captain.

***

Peppy waltzed down the corridor, causally eying the Great Fox's walls. The Hare had returned shortly after his rendezvous with Falco and was eager to relax after his fun at the avian's expense. In the back of his mind, he had hoped the hot headed avian would return soon, but he knew full well the ace pilot would take a while to simmer down after what had happened.

His musings were disturbed by the sharp scent of burnt wires lingering in the air, the Hare following the scent to the hanger where the wreckage still lay. Falco's Arwing was still in its support lock, sitting just as destroyed as before, though it was considerably cleaner. The old Hare sighed at the sight, shaking his head. While he held no ill will against the young technician, he too couldn't help but share a little of Falco's sentiments. Mistake though it was, it was rather impulsive on the technician's part.

Peppy shook his head, berating himself for thinking like that.

These things happen with new recruits, now matter how experienced. The Arwing is in a class of its own, and you can't get mad at a freak circumstance.

The old Hare took his leave, heading to the washing room to clean his old-style clothes. In spite of the day's dour mood, his outfit had him feeling upbeat, glad to wear one of his old disguises again. It wouldn't be wrong to say that he was feeling rather restless, his old combat habits keeping him alert despite the downtime. It also wouldn't be wrong to say that he enjoyed playing 'the spy' more then he probably should have, considering the seriousness of the situation. Nevertheless, the old pilot found himself keeping walking with a determined gait, as if he was ready to crack some heads, rather then do some laundry.

Peppy chuckled softly, and silently berated himself for taking enjoyment while his fellow pilot's suffered a great misfortune. It didn't stop the smile on his muzzle, and it did nothing to diminish his pace, nor soften his determined gait. The Hare even found himself creeping up to the washing room, the sound of active machines putting him on alert, though the sight inside was more or less what he should've expected.

A familiar looking dog, now dressed only in a tank top and boxer-briefs, was putting the last of his work suit into one of the washers, the cloth looking blackened with grease. The new technician's fur was sticking out in all sorts of directions, his muzzle and tail considerably dirtier then the rest of his coat. The Hare let out a low whistle, feeling a pang of sympathy for the dog's coat. He was glad to see Mitch's attitude hadn't taken a hit, the dog humming to himself as he checked the machines. He held in a chuckle as Mitch's ears perked up, his presence now known.

"Peppy!" Mitch turned to the old rabbit, straightening out as if at attention.

"Hey there, youngster," Peppy smiled, his previous thought returning to him as he took in the dog's ragged appearance. "There's no need to be so rigid. I can see you've been hard at work. How's the Arwing looking?"

"Eh, not so good. I can fix the hull and put it back together, but we'll need to call Slippy in on it." Mitch fidgeted slightly, his smile becoming much more sheepish. "We've got some technical issues I'm not trained for in there."

"Well, don't worry. Things like this happen from time to time. It wouldn't be StarFox without a little mishap every now and then."

Peppy chuckled and shook his head, lost in a memory that Mitch didn't want to disturb him from. But there was a question that did garner some urgency.

"So, where's Falco?" he asked tentatively, shaking Peppy from his thoughts.

"Oh, he's off fuming." Peppy waved the question off, still chuckling. "I've made sure he'll be fine, and won't hassle you on the subject when he gets back."

He offered the dog a kind smile, and Mitch couldn't help but be reassured by the elder's presence.

"So, is that the reason why you're wearing an old mob boss's movie suit?"

"Part of it, yes" Peppy laughed at the canine's comment. "The other reason being simply that I wanted to air out this set for a spell. Can't have you youngsters doing all the fun stuff now can I?"

He grinned at the mutt, whose sheepish grin turned back into a full smile. "Thanks Peppy."

"Anytime. Now, go and clean up. I need to wash this old suit up, and you smell like something that crawled out of Zoness and died!" The old Hare laughed at the dog's embarrassed grin and left him to go about his business.

***

The Great Fox's bridge was quiet. For the first time since it docked, Fox relaxed in the silence that encompassed the room. Even ROB was quiet, the gold plated robot staying near a console, checking on diagnostics or some such. The mercenary captain's muscles ached after the amount of cleaning he had to do. Falco's Arwing had been stained black from the blast, and even with Mitch's help, cleaning it had been no easy task.

Fox scanned the room, his ears swishing about, trying to detect any of his teammates coming near the door. Falco was still out and Mitch was either in the showers or in his room. That left Peppy, but the vulpine captain didn't hear any of the telltale foot falls of the elder Hare. Light on his feet, the man was not.

Satisfied that he was mostly alone, Fox slouched in his captain's chair, sighing as he let himself relax. The fox shifted slightly, a familiar feeling rousing between his legs. A grin crossed his muzzle as he lowered a paw down, gently cupping his arousal. He sighed to himself as he squeezed his bulge. His recent tryst with the technician seemed to kick his libido up a notch if he was this easily aroused. Not that he was complaining.

In truth, the thought of just relieving himself in his chair was oddly arousing, and it spurred his paw on to unzip his pants, giving his growing erection more freedom. He looked outward, what normally would be a view of space was instead a wall of a Cornerian hanger. His paw slipped into his pants, gripping his growing shaft, and he sighed as he gave it a squeeze. Licking his lips, he slowly pulled his shaft out, swallowing some as he watched his dick throb in the open air. A flash of a image passed through his head, and he couldn't help but shudder slightly as he imagined the new tech dog on his knees, sucking him off in the middle of the bridge. The thought helped give the final push and he leaned back to give his hard length a few long strokes....

...

"Fox, a communications request is being sent by the Cornerian mainland. From the General's office."

ROB's voice jerked Fox out of his reverie, paws frantically pushing his dick back into his pants, the full shaft making a large bulge as it was stuffed back into its tight confines. The vulpine panted almost heavily, trying to calm himself down. He smoothed his fur and shifted in his seat, his erections staying with him in spite of the scare.

"Alright, patch it through..." He huffed once he thought himself presentable. It wouldn't do to be seen tending to himself by General Pepper.

To his surprise, it wasn't Pepper's muzzle that greeted him when the hologram kicked up, but their own resident frog mechanic!

"Slippy?"

"Yeah, it's me Fox." The Toad called back, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry about calling this late. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

The fox raised an eyebrow to his teammate. He almost had to wonder if that had been intentional or not. He dismissed the thought. Slippy was many things, but he was never purposefully disruptive. No matter what Falco seemed to think.

"It's fine, nothing that can't be done later." He shifted in his seat, grateful that the console connected to it blocked the view to his still bulging crotch. "So, what's up?"

"I had a really bad feeling, Fox. I can't really explain it, but it was like I could feel one of the Arwing's in danger." He sighed, and laughed weakly. "Pretty silly huh?"

"It's fine. You're just really in tune with the machines." Fox bit the bullet and hid his wince. "There was a slight complication, though. We found out one of the bandits left us a gift in Falco's Arwing. Mitch was performing a safety test and we set off something in the Arwing's cannon." At Slippy's gasp, he hastily added, "Nothing serious, just a small blast, but it got hit with an EMP wave too. The CPU is fried."

"That would do it..." To Fox's relief, Slippy's mood was more contemplative then sad. Then again, he had yet to see any of the actual physical damage done to the craft. "Alright, well, that's better then I thought. I can repair something like that no problem, just as I get a new CPU. Anybody get hurt?"

"Mitch was a bit frazzled and Falco was pissed about the whole thing, but we're all fine."

"It just had to be his Arwing that got hit, didn't it?" the Toad chuckled. "Is he still fuming?"

"Last I heard. Peppy said he'd go calm him down, but I haven't heard word from either of them."

"Well, you can tell him he won't have anything to worry about. I'll be back tomorrow to fix the Arwing proper." A smug grin briefly overtook his face, "A temporary technician is nice, but you need the brains of the outfit to repair any real damage."

"That's what you're here for," Fox answered dryly.

The Toad grinned in spite of the tone. "I won't keep you waiting too long. Just let me finish my work here, and I'll have that ship in good order before too long!" A few muffled voices came from offscreen, Slippy turning to face them for a moment before returning his attention to Fox. "Sorry, Fox. They're telling me I gotta cut it short. Security's pretty tight about this project, after all. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye!!"

And with that hurried farewell, he was gone. Unlike Fox's surprisingly persistent erection.

"This is gonna become a regular thing when I'm alone, isn't it?" He asked himself. His maleness seemed to almost throb in agreement, and it got him to chuckle. "ROB, has Peppy checked in yet?" The fox was more then a little paranoid with any other interruptions to his 'private time'.

"Negative, but he has boarded the ship. He is currently in the laundry room."

"Of course he is," Fox huffed gently to himself, going back to fondling his still beating arousal. No reason he couldn't have a bit of fun before his duties came back to him after all. "Just say when he starts coming here." Before I end up doing it.

"Affirmative".

***

The scruffy dog huffed to himself as he walked the halls of the Great Fox. He shivered involuntarily, his minimal clothing doing nothing to insulate his body heat. He thanked his luck that Great Fox had a very powerful heating system, the temperature warm enough that it didn't detract from the hot shower he had just finished.

It had taken almost an hour to get all the grime out of his fur, or more specifically, his muzzle and tail. The suit he wore covered most of his body, but left those two areas exposed to the elements. He had hoped they wouldn't mind him using almost all of the fur conditioner in there. And while he felt like he got ran over by a Landmaster, the long shower did wonders for his body.

He didn't know what to say after Fox ordered him to his room without giving him a spare pair of clothes. Fox claimed his were still in the wash, and that they needed to be sanitized thoroughly to get the stains out. Mitch could honestly believe that, though he was still curious if he saw a flick of a smirk on the vulpine's muzzle as he turned to leave.

His ears went back and an embarrassed grin crossed his face. The Star Fox captain, checking me out...

The thought put a small spring in his step, his trip to his guest room going much faster for it. His grin lit up, knowing he'd be technically listed as part of the team roster during his stay, in his head if nothing else. The room all but solidified his membership.

It was definitely a step up from the living quarters back at HQ during the War. While he experienced very little active war time, he was still shacked with the rest of the technicians in the barracks, his guest bed trumping the small cot he received by a wide margin. He was almost surprised that the team had managed to remain so casual despite being so well off. It was no wonder the captain himself let him just walk around the ship in his underclothes, even if it was to check him out.

Going with the notion, he tugged off his tank top, tossing the white shirt onto the bed and stretched his stiff body.

"Much better!"

Mitch shook his body down, settling his fur before sliding onto the bed, hugging the cool pillow to him. He knew he'd miss this bed when he left. It was nicer then even his own bed at home! Still, he'd have fond memories of his time. After all, who else got to work personally with StarFox, and even more personally with Fox McCloud himself?

"You..." Came a voice from behind.

Mitch nodded once at the affirmation, but turned in shock from the familiar voice. There stood the team's ace avian pilot, leaning against the doorway, his eyes slightly red and posture slumped.

"Falco..."

***

It was an altogether dark evening that welcomed back StarFox's avian ace pilot. Falco trudged up the ramp leading to the GreatFox wearily, his gait coupled with a few stumbles as he went from floor to ramp then floor again. His attempts to drink himself silly were foiled by the closest thing he had to a father, and while he knew he'd thank the hare come morning, right now, he was still rather cross with him.

Still, he was grateful that the minor buzz he'd gotten at the bar stayed with him, even after the cab ride over. He navigated through the ship's white hallways, going by memory of his numerous trips down the halls. He could probably walk through the entire ship blindfolded, and the thought brought on a series of chuckles that he was sure would've turned to hysteric laughter had he been totally plastered.

Drearily, he was reminded of his main reason for 'excusing' himself from the GreatFox earlier as he entered the corridor which he knew would lead him to the hanger. His buzz let him put the incident out of his mind, focusing instead on the way to his quarters so he could pass out in blissful slumber. In his drunken mind, he decided to risk the trip and shortcut it back to the main section where the living quarters were.

To lessen his ire, Falco closed his eyes, relying solely on muscle memory with the hope that his feet would naturally take him to his room. To his half surprise, when he opened them, he found himself in a corner of the hanger, away from his fallen Arwing, but nowhere near where he wanted to be. The avian sighed and took a few more moments to steady himself, glaring at the wall so as to not look at the subject of his anger. He even took deep breaths to help, anything that would keep him from flipping out.

He noticed something in his state. The faint smell of something. Something clean... too clean. True enough, the hanger was due for a cleaning, even before the incident. But now it smelled too clean. He could smell the cleaning product in the air still, and while it might've been for smoke damages, the perverted side of Falco's brain was reminded of several other times their team leader used 'too much cleaner' to cover his tracks.

Falco found his good mood returning, laughing to himself as he thought the implications over. Try and sort a kid out, get him laid instead. The irony was palpable. Or maybe that was the liquor. Whichever the case, the avian decided to move along while the moving was good, looking at the floor instead of at the surrounding hanger, and soon finding himself following the familiar corridors to the living quarters.

He let off a huff, silently thankful for the dog's temporary position. Knowing their leader, Fox would probably be working with the dog full time to try and improve his skills, and more then likely, it'd mean more grief for the avian. If anything, he wouldn't have to worry about running into him for a while. It was far too late to...

"Much better!" A rather familiar voice yawned.

Falco's head turned as he passed an open door. This was usually the spare guest room, but was now occupied by a very familiar scruffy-furred dog. Mitch was shaking his fur back in place, heading to the bed with only his boxers on. With a sigh that told of his relaxed guard, the canine flopped on the bed, hugging the pillow to his chest.

Falco stepped into the room, looking at the dog's upturned ass and wagging tail.

"You..." Falco's voice rang out. Mitch gasped and flipped on his back, the blankets falling to the floor.

***

"Falco... you," he winced a little as he saw the bird's haggard appearance. "Went drinking..."

"Damn straight kid. What else do you do when someone blows apart your ship?" Falco's voice was even, surprisingly so, but that only served to unnerve the canine further.

"Listen... I know you're mad, but we're working on it. We'll call Slippy tomorrow and he'll have it working at 100% again." Mitch couldn't help but be wary. The avian approached him with a glare in his eyes.

"You just don't get it. Do you, newbie?" Falco laughed. He laughed a drunken laugh that made the dog's temper rise, in spite of the unease he felt. Eventually though, he calmed down, his voice once more calm and disturbingly even. "This isn't about fixing my ship. It's about you pulling a brain dead maneuver on the inside of a hanger!"

The bird wore a grin on his beak as he saw the effect it had on the dog. His ears flattened instinctively and his eyes widened, any trace of aggression gone. "You come here with your fancy Academy education and offer to help. Nothing wrong with that... But when you start thinking you're ready to deal with a suff- suffaci- big threat by yourself without any of us looking into it, you step way outta line!"

He swayed a little on his feet, still buzzed. It took Mitch by surprise sure enough. The dog found he couldn't offer a rebuttal to Falco's accusations.

"You destroyed my ship," Falco continued once he balanced himself. "You owe me big time for screwing with my ship like that."

That brought back the canine's ire, an indignant growl underlying his voice. "I can pay you back just fine. I'm not just some kid-"

"No, you're not." Falco cut in. "You just haven't been shown the ropes yet." He grinned broadly and placed a feathered hand over Mitch's shoulder. "So, how about I show you how the big guys pay back someone who owes them?"

It was so sudden, Mitch wouldn't have thought it possible for anyone to do it while drunk. Falco lunged forward, grabbing the dog's shoulders and bringing him forward and actually kissed him. It was the most bizarre feeling the young canine had experienced. Despite the sharp appearance, the beak was surprisingly soft when his lips were matched with Falco's own equivalent pair. Nevertheless, in spite of the oddity, Mitch found himself melting into it. His and the bird's tongues clumsily wrestled each other, Falco's from drunkenness and Mitch's from lack of experience. He wouldn't be lying if he didn't find the assertiveness hot, and his body agreed with him.

Eventually, Falco pulled back with a gasp and looked the dog over. "Hah, I was right, you are gay!" Mitch looked down at the damning evidence, having pitched a nicely sized tent in his underwear.

"Fine, yeah, I like guys. What of it?" He asked, too flustered to think of the kiss.

"Well, it makes taking my payment a hell of a lot easier!"

It didn't take much time for the sentence to make sense in his head. "Wha- but you're straight!" The dog swallowed audibly, his voice losing conviction at the sly smile Falco was giving him. "Aren't you?"

"Did that kiss seem straight to you? Besides, who says I can't swing both ways once in a while?" Falco chuckled, shucking off his bulky flight suit. He had never gotten around to taking it off since he stormed off and sighed in relief as he was rid of it, as well as his undershirt, baring his half naked body to the technician. "Not every day we have another gay military brat here!"

Mitch swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat as he looked at Falco. The avian kept in good shape, his body fit and toned with wiry muscle, similar to Fox's. His chest was now only covered by a red tank top, matching the one on the floor. Mitch had to quickly wonder if that one was one of Fox's spares.

"You liken' the view down there?" Falco chuckled. Mitch looked up at him, confusion blurring with arousal. "Gotta say, kid, you're not half bad."

Any objection melted into a whimper as Falco licked the dog's ear, nibbling it as it tried to flick away. His curious tongue soon found its way to his neck, only serving to make the dog pant as it trailed up and down the surface.

"You taste pretty good, for a grease monkey." His hands never stopped roaming over the dog's body, feeling the surprising muscle tone previously hidden behind the suit. "And ya got the body of a military dog. Fox always liked that type".

Mitch's eyes widened at the fact, still too stunned to speak, but processing the information just fine.

"That's right, pup, I know," Falco sat up from the stunned dog. "Fox never was any good at keeping his interests from us. He tries way too hard to cover up when he's had his fun." Falco chuckled again, steadying his posture as he wobbled. "I took a detour through the hangar bay. Smelled way too clean to just be dealing with some fried Arwing in there. Fox only uses the heavy stuff when he doesn't want us to smell what he's been up to."

Mitch blushed at the imagery of their previous coupling filing the room with their combined scent as they rutted wildly. It made his trapped length twitch in arousal. A blue feathered hand was on it a second later, stroking the growing length through the cloth, its owner whimpering and panting at the gentle stroking.

"And I saw the look on your face earlier. Not too hard to figure out when you're being ogled." Falco laughed again, sitting up as he took off his tank top, stretching his toned body out to give a good look at the muscles there. Likes Fox's fur, Falco's plumage was relatively short, his definition showing easily though. "Go ahead boy," He slurred, tossing the shirt into the small pile of clothes. "Drink it all in."

Mitch's tail wagged under him, his paws reaching up to feel the avian's body. It was something he hadn't gotten to do with Fox, to simply feel them. The thought once again crossed his mind that it was Falco's body he was caressing and, even with his attitude earlier, he still felt a sense of giddiness living out one of his old fantasies.

Eager paws roamed over the inebriated avian's body, the feathers adding a smooth yet warm texture to the firm muscle underneath. The technician leaned in close, pressing his muzzle to Falco's stomach, wrapping his arms around the pilot's back and nuzzling his abs. He breathed in slowly, taking light breaths to inhale the avian's musk. It wasn't as strong as Fox's was after their match, but it was strong enough to fill his senses, until all he could smell was the excited avian in front of him.

Falco reveled in the attention, his easily stroked ego, combined with the alcohol, immobilized him. His own length firmed up as he felt the dog's paws wander his over his body. "That's it, boy, get a good feel. Ain't everyday you get a chance like this." He squeezed Mitch's trapped length again for emphasis, grinning as he heard the dog's pants and moans.

It was more then enough encouragement for the technician. He brought his head up, nuzzling the avian's chest before lapping his tongue over it, tasting the slightly musky flavoring that coated his body. Slowly but surely, the dog trailed down to his navel and lapped at it leisurely. Falco leaned back as he enjoyed the unexpected pleasant sensation, rubbing the dog's head in appreciation. Kid's braver then I thought.

The dog's bravado shone through once more as he reached for Falco's growing arousal, grasping the firm length and stroking it slowly. Falco shuddered at the warm paw gripped his slick length, already drooling some pre.

"You've got balls, kid." He chuckled, reaching down to fondle the dog's balls through his underwear. "A good set too."

Mitch squirmed, too busy in his own pleasure to groan at the lame joke. His tongue running over Falco's stomach in long strokes, tracing over the bumps that made up his abs. All throughout his treatment, he gently humped into Falco's hand, his whines growing each time his shaft was rubbed against the cloth of his restrictive underwear.

"You want out, kid?" Falco breathed heavily, teasingly pulling down the front of the dog's underwear.

Mitch nodded, himself panting as his arousal throbbed. He had to make a conscious effort to still his tail so it wouldn't chafe against his underwear.

"What's that kid?" Falco's grin turned sly. "Didn't quite catch that. You'll have to speak up?"

Mitch blushed as he saw through the bird's game, and blushed even harder as his trapped erection throbbed again for it. He knew what the avian wanted him to say, but dammit if he wasn't too aroused now! Shakily he nodded again.

"Please, Falco..." He stifled a groan as the hand on his bulge squeezed again. "Let it out... take my... cock out..." By the time he finished, his ears were pinned to his head, his tail still but his erection stronger then ever.

Falco's cheeky grin only got wider. "Well, whaddya know! This pup came pre-trained! " He played with the large bulge again, moving it about and letting the fabric run along the sensitive length. "What are they training you military dogs to do these days?"

Mitch could only squirm as he was played with, his paws clutching the bed as he tried to speak again. Truth be told, he always fantasized something like this happening. But never in a million years would he have thought Star Fox's ace pilot would be edging him on, acting like he was a trained pet and making him beg. He also never imagined how turned on it would've made him.

"Speak up, boy," The dog whined as Falco's hand squeezed his trapped shaft again, reminding him he wasn't fantasizing this time. The pilot's voice low, and husky, showing how much he was getting into the act. "Don't ya know how to address a superior officer?"

"Please... sir..." Mitch huffed, his muzzle flushed red as he let his desire speak for him. "Let my dick out, please."

Even in his inebriated state, Falco admired how into it the dog was getting. "Heh, well, since you asked so nicely," Even he wasn't so much of an ass as to not deny a good puppy his treat. It didn't stop him from having one last bit of fun, pulling down on the dog's waistband with a teasing slowness, uncovering the mutt's rear first, and giving it a firm grab. "Mm, a tight one. Good to see the General's training program still gives cadets asses like this."

The mutt knew it was meant to be a playful joke, but it still had him squirming. His head was filled with the thought of him being 'inspected' by his fellow cadet, being prepped up for his superior. His shaft throbbed in it's cloth prison, Mitch wiggling his hips to try and slip it out between the folds of his boxers. "Please, sir," He whined, cheeks reddening, "Let me present myself for you."

Falco's grin couldn't get any wider, his hands moving to the front of the bunched up boxer-briefs. He was rock hard too, and having entirely too much fun dominating the poor dog. "You ready for inspection, boy?" He chuckled at the technician's instant nod, and finally pulled down the restricting cloth. He couldn't help but smile at the dog's relieved gasp as his cock was freed, bouncing and hitting his stomach from the force before standing straight up, throbbing in the cool room air.

"Mm, you've got a good length to ya, kid." Falco admired, taking hold of the bare shaft. Mitch squirmed once more, the sensation twice as strong now that there wasn't anything blocking it. The dog's paw, long since having lost its grip on the avian's own member, squeezed his toned thigh, the mutt panting in pleasure.

"Woah, there kid. Don't pass out on me," Falco chuckled, letting the throbbing erection go, its owner whining in complaint. "Don't worry kid, you'll get your chance. But you still owe me for the Arwing, and it's about time I collect on it."

Mitch looked back, eyes half lidded as the thought passed through him. "On all fours kid." Falco said, sliding off the bed. Mitch hesitantly did as he was told, propping himself up on his knees and paws as he watched Falco rummage through the pile of discarded clothes.

"Aha! Found it!" Falco showed off a small tube to the dog that was reminiscent of a similar one kept in his own flight suit. "Thought maybe I could get some action in town to calm me down." He chuckled again as he took in the dog's form. "Never thought I'd find someone so eager to please would be bunking with us!"

Mitch grumbled quietly, a tinge of humiliation ran through him at the thought but was literally knocked out of him when he felt the bird's hand swat his rear. The swat caused his tail to go up instinctively, being met with another laugh from the avian.

"Boy, you are just full of surprises!" Mitch found it hard to protest as a slick finger met his tailhole.

The surface still stung a little from his earlier escapades, but the cooling lube that the pilot rubbed over helped dull the ache, making the pleasure that much more apparent. The dog moaned quietly, burying his muzzle in his pillow, raising his ass up more and giving more space for Falco to work. The pilot's feathered fingered traced over his hole in slow passes, getting the entire area slick with the cool lube. He leaned back, trying to slide the prodding finger in.

"Eager, aren't ya kid?"

The dog's paws gripped the bedsheets, trying his best to not moan back his answer. His tail twitched erratically each time Falco rubbed over his entrance, never real penetrating in spite of the increasing slickness. Mitch could practically hear the bird's grin as he chuckled at the dog's antics, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he didn't want it any less. It was like Falco could sense his need and was denying him just for kicks.

As the bird's fingers just dipped into his tailhole, the young technician found himself moaning, pushing his rump back to force more of the bird's digits into him. His attempts were met with another chuckle as Falco moved his fingers down, trailing down the dog's taint to his balls, giving the orbs a squeeze before moving back to his slickened hole. The dog found it too much and grit his teeth before finally growling out.

"Just... push in already!" The slight crack at the end of his moan lessened any demand his statement had in the dog's head.

Falco didn't answer verbally, though Mitch could imagine the grin he had now. Instead, he was treated to another slow crawl of the avail's fingers on his tailhole. This time, though, one of them finally slipped in, the cool liquid coating it spreading inside the dog's passage. The young mutt couldn't help the small moans and whines that the probing fingers coaxed from him. His paws moved to grab the pillow, the dog burying his muzzle into it as he was slickened up. It wasn't long before he felt his rear get spread again, another light gasp escaping him as he was invaded, the lube helping both intruders slide into him. He let himself get lost in the motions, rolling his hips back slowly against the pilot's fingers.

"Fox stretched ya good, didn't he?" Falco's voice knocked the technician back to his still addled senses. Mitch gasped again, trying to look back at Falco. "It's pretty obvious. I'm already two fingers in."

Mitch couldn't imagine his blush getting any more intense, or his dick getting any harder without someone stroking it.

"That guy's got a cheat with that knot," Falco chuckled, and Mitch had to swallow once to prevent himself from drooling. "Yeah, you remember it. Thing's huge, and unfair if we're comparing," Falco huffed to himself, seeming to lose his train of thought for a moment before turning back to the dog. "I won't need an enhancement to stretch you out and make you moan, boy."

Mitch shivered as the avail's fingers left his passage. Sitting there, with his ass presented to the horny avian, he was sure the pilot would live up to his claim.

"I think you're ready now," Falco said in a near whisper.

Mitch's mind was still in a haze of pleasure, his entire body sensitive in it's upturned position. It was the only thing to explain why he almost yelped when he felt Falco's own thick shaft suddenly grins up against his hole, the pilot hotdogging him and coating his length in the clear liquid.

"Forgot to mention," the avian casually remarked, the sound of the tube cap opening following his statement. "This stuff works extra wonders for mammals. Raises the sensitivity in your skin. But I bet you know that now, huh?"

Mitch knew this was his way of getting back to him for his Arwing, and that he'd most likely be sore for the entire next morning, if not the whole day. But at that moment, he felt it hard to care. His body was on fire, his dick throbbing harder then ever, feeling like it could go off at any second. At the edge of his mind, it occurred to him how long Falco had been applying the lube to his ass and even the surrounding area before making the true effects known, luring him into a sense of security before frazzling his senses.

Had he been in a saner state of mind, he'd have to applaud the avian for his ingenuity at finding the hottest way to deliver payback. In his current state, however, he could only utter a few words to express himself.

"Please... just fuck me..." The dog panted out, looking back at the pilot. He continued on easily, his desires and arousal getting the better of him. "Fuck my ass, please. Rut it like your own and cum inside me!!" He surprised himself with his own admission, but he meant it all the same.

Like before, Falco didn't answer with words. Mitch could see the lust-filled grin on the pilot's beak as he speared his length into him, making him moan out loudly, the lube amplifying the little jolts of pleasure he felt last time into large shocks. The mutt buried his muzzle into the pillow again to muffle himself, the increased sensitivity making him whine and whimper for every inch that was driven into him.

Falco was slightly slimmer then Fox, and Mitch's tailhole fit his shaft like a well worn glove, the thought causing his dick to jump, shooting pre onto the bed. The avian was also longer then his captain, probing even deeper then Fox had been able to before. Falco made him almost bark out as he slammed the last of his length in, Mitch biting the pillow as his senses were overloaded again.

The mutt got only a few moments of rest while Falco steadied himself, grinding his dick in him before pulling back. He moaned unashamedly, the lube making his exit that much more noticeable, the dog feeling every inch leave him and making him crave its return.

The avian did not disappoint his canine companion. His feathered hands came to rest on the dog's hips, gripping them tight before the entirety of his dick was rammed back inside the dog's hole. Mitch moaned into the pillow again, panting through his nose as Falco started up again. Both moaned out as the bigger bird began hammering away at the dog's rump, the bed squeaking in soft protest at their motions.

An errant thought went through the technician's mind, a fact he had read about the two lead members of Star Fox; Back in their school days, Falco was said to be the faster of the two, outpacing Fox in their track races. Now, as he felt those toned legs drive the throbbing mass of flesh into him, he knew it was too true. Those legs pistoned the rock hard length in and out of him at a constant pace, each time probing somewhere deep inside him that made his own twitching cock drool some more.

On and on, Falco ravaged the poor canine's posterior, for what felt like hours to the addled dog. The ace pilot was in a similar state, panting as the lube started to tingle over this shaft. While it wasn't as strong as it was for his partner, it added a little spark to him whenever he felt the dog clench around his dick, trying to milk its load from its owner. It made him buck harder into the dog's rump, coaxing more whimpers and moans from the technician, and spurring the pilot on. His thrusts grew stronger and faster, Falco hissing softly as he let himself go, his body controlling the motions.

The effect was immediate on the dog below, his pleasure spiking sharply from the hard jabs given to his rump. His whines got louder with the bird's now brutal pace. Every thrust from the avian blended into the next, the lube magnifying the spikes of pleasure to the dog's brain, putting him into a blissful haze.

A puddle formed under him, pre drooling in a steady stream onto the bed as he was inched forward to his release, his dick throbbing eagerly, even untouched.

The pleasure wasn't one-sided. The avian found himself reaching his peak sooner then he thought, his special lube having been rubbed thoroughly over his shaft and taking full effect. Pleasure surged through the bird's body, and finally peaked with one last clench from the dog, just as the pilot pulled out. Falco gripped Mitch's hips and slammed home, restraining his grunts as he reached his peak. He arched back and closed his eyes, losing himself to the dog's tight tailhole. He painted the canine's insides with his jizz, keeping himself buried to the hilt so each spurt just seeped in deeper into the dog's passage.

The bird was shocked out of his bliss however, a howl from the dog below him signaling his own euphoria. The bliss stricken dog found his muzzle immediately being pushed into the pillow, the sound muffled as his cock throbbed, coating the bed in several thick streaks of cum. The avian panted as he rode out his orgasm, a smug grin on his beak while the dog made a mess of his bed. He let the dog's head up after the howl died down, playfully ruffling his ears while the canine's body trembled. Mitch sunk against the bed, panting heavily as the afterglow set in.

Once the dog settled down, Falco pulled out, wiping his slightly drooling shaft on the dog's rear before getting up. He gathered his discarded clothes, chuckling at the dog's state, ass still up and panting into the pillow. The pilot had to restrain a laugh as the dog collapsed to one side, avoiding the puddle of jizz he left, and coming to rest on his side. Definitely a virgin.

"You're alright, kid," Falco said as he made his way out. He paused and turned off the light to the room, bathing it in darkness and hiding the technician's ravaged state. "Consider us even." It was the last thing Mitch heard before he lost consciousness.