Dressed For Action (HH)
#28 of Hockey Hunk Season 6
Dressed For Action (HH)
*
Well, I had the time and inspiration today to write this, so let's hope it lives up to scratch. I am very interested in hearing what you think about it, and I look forward to reading your feedback.
I'm afraid I can't yet promise an exact date for the next chapter, but do enjoy this, and let's hope the inspiration picks up soon again. Before that, though, I hope to keep getting little things done.
Have a good read!
*
I was scrambling under the counter to search for the pen I dropped, when a soft tapping noise roused my attention. I huffed in abandonment of my quest for the writing utensil and stood upright, my spine popping, as I assumed a vertical posture and gazed into the direction of the earlier knocking interruption. I knew the shop well enough to identify the surface being tapped upon as the window on the front door, since such a noise was almost a daily occurrence, anyway.
"I'm afraid we are still closed!" I called out while looking in the direction of the shop front, but about as soon as I got my muzzle open and the words out, I realized that standing behind the door was a familiar tiger, not a random passerby hoping for an early newspaper to take along to work.
"Oh damn!" I muttered to myself and gave a quick wave, and saw that the tiger staring back to me through the window give a mild blink through the glasses he wore over his muzzle.
I ambled to the door, took out my keys and opened the door, letting in some slightly cool morning air, the smell of bagels, and a tiger who stepped in with a soft sway to his tail, a bag slung over his shoulder.
"Good morning," he spoke.
"Oh, good morning!" I replied with a smile.
"I do not have a key yet, I'm afraid," the young man replied to me, still smiling ever so gently.
A quick glance at him told me that part of the scent from before was coming from him, since he had a rather bagel-scented brown paper bag in one paw.
"Damn!" I declared. "I think Marge must have forgotten it, I'm sorry about that."
"It is fine" he replied, still sounding very much non-pulsed by being overlooked in such a manner, "I did get in, after all."
"Heh, sure!" I stated, which reminded me to make sure the front door was still shut, with a glance and a poke on the door handle, and I retrieved my key into my pocket. "First day for you, isn't it?"
"Indeed," he spoke, his voice a soft, feline variety, unsurprising for a tiger of slim statute. "Until midday. Then I must go to the university."
"Ah, right, yes," I relied, though I didn't really remember today's roster that well, even though I was supposed to be in charge.
"I would like to change my clothes," he said. "Could you show me the way to the dressing area?"
He was almost unnervingly polite, which was perhaps refreshing, considering he looked like a high school kid and he was fresh out of one, too, I knew as much from what Marge had told me, and a new fish in town, too, I'd learned when we pored over his references. The slightly different twang in his accent was a giveaway, too, at least to my linguistically trained (once) mind.
"Oh, sure, of course!"
I'd just about waved my paw in the general direction when Mason appeared. He came up the stairs from the secondpaw section, a box in his paws, his ears bobbing as he hauled himself up the steps.
"And here's Mason, but you guys have already met, too!"
"Good morning," the tiger boy nodded generously to the wolf boy.
"Hey-a," Mason rumbled, mostly concentrated in his task.
"Is that the paperbacks?" I asked as he headed for the shop floor.
"I think it's the tantric sex manuals," Mason replied mildly.
The tiger's tail flipped curiously, but he showed no other reaction to Mason's matter of fact statement.
"To the 'Advanced Furry Fun' shelf," I stated.
"I got it," Mason's tail flicked behind him as he stomped on his way.
"Well, that's Mason, and that's all of us this morning," I said, "Crystal will come at noon to relieve too, and I'm working a full day since Marge is having a day off today to attend to some business at the head office, so I'm in charge today."
"As the assistant manager?" the tiger boy asked me.
"Well...acting manager?" I suggested with a slightly wry smile.
"I see."
"This way," I said before we'd get stuck on it.
We walked downstairs, meeting the scent of used, fondled books, which the tiger sniffed carefully, before it was time for the loud stairs and the rows and rows of books waiting to be uncovered and put to the shelves on the actual shop floor.
"And this is the staff area," I pointed at the messy corner with the couch and the chairs and the coffee making facilities, though, I knew he was familiar with this place, too, from his earlier visit, "as you can smell, there's coffee, if you fancy some."
"I had a coffee in the morning, thank you," he replied. "But I could have some tea with my bagel."
"I think we have some," I rubbed my chin in thought, "but you'll have to check, I think. Everyone kind of just guzzles coffee here."
"I don't want to be caffeine overloaded," the tiger replied. "I'm rather sensitive to the diuretic action, too."
Well that was a curious statement.
"Heh, yeah, I know it's not too good to you in the end. Come on, let's find something for you to wear. We must have a fitting spare here somewhere."
We entered the locker room, which smelled mostly of Mason and me since we had been its last occupants, with a lingering hint of Crystal's mane dye, and Marge's perfume, all mixing into a familiar tangle that would remain on my furs until I'd wash it away with Xanthomax at home.
"Marge cleared this locker out for you," I pointed at one next to Crystal's on the opposite side of the small room from mine. "It should be perfectly clean and...well, that's about it."
"I'm sure it will be fine," the tiger replied before he moved forward to investigate the assigned locker, opening its door, checking its interior, sniffing the air inside it, even, his tail still alive behind him, above a butt in relatively tight dark pants.
"As for clothes, I think..." I turned about and opened one of the empty lockers on my side, from which I procured a red shirt, on a coathanger and covered in dry cleaner's flimsy plastic, "I think this ought to do, at least until we can get you fitted, if you prefer so."
I handed over the shuffling shirt and he took it, observed it with a critical eye, and then began to carefully remove the plastic.
"At least it is better than what I had to wear at my old place," he said, "there my uniform included an apron."
"An apron?" I questioned curiously.
"Oh yes," he said, smiling a little, which seemed genuine, since his eyes gained a feline glint from it, "old man Kleiner insisted that it gave the right impression."
Well that sounded rather curious.
"And it was a bookstore, yeah?"
"A small one, yes, and we also did bookbinding and some book restoration," he said. "But I was only a clerk, really, not an apprentice, so I mostly minded the till."
That did sound musty enough to warrant an apron. The second paw section smelled enough of old books...to actually work in a place where the books were taken apart and lovingly repaired...that must've been something else.
"Ah, I see," I said, "I did read your references, and they gave me a very good impression."
"Thank you, mister Gliese," the tiger replied.
Guh. I was way too young to be a mister...or seriously lacking a plaid shirt and a grizzled mane, at least!
Basically, I wasn't my dad.
"Just Rory," I smiled quickly, hurrying to establish a more easy rapport between us. There wasn't more than 10 years between us, and I didn't want him to think otherwise, either.
He looked at me somewhat suspiciously, for reasons I could not fathom, but then he nodded.
"I am Paul," he said.
At least there was no pawshaking or some other rituals there to make things feel more awkward. He finished unwrapping the shirt and carefully placed the plastic onto the small bench before trying the shirt on for fit by pressing it against his chest.
"Seems to be alright," he said. "I'll just have to change."
"By all means," I replied.
He did not make a motion to start, however, while I was standing there, and I felt a twinge of nervousness in my stomach. Was he suspecting I was going to check him out while he did the cursory stripping needed to change his current casual green shirt into what he was holding on his paws? Or was he just shy thinking of removing clothes in front of strangers? Sure this was a locker room, but I wasn't exactly a peer, and this situation might've been a bit unnerving to begin with, since I was his acting boss for now, and I couldn't decide whether his manner was borne out of high respect or simply being timid.
"Maybe I'll go and check how Mason is doing and you can come up when you are ready?" I nodded in his direction.
"Oh, perhaps," he said. "I won't be long."
"Oh, there's no hurry, just take your time," I said with another smile I hoped would come off as friendly, "we'll be upstairs."
"Alright, Rory."
At least he agreed to use my first name...
"Sure!" I smiled before I departed, with my tail swinging neatly into action behind me.
Hm. Curious. Couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking while I scaled the steps and found Mason doing some straightening up of the magazine shelf, paws moving over the glossies.
"Everything set?" I asked.
"Yup," he said.
As verbal as usual, I thought. Maybe he was worn out from making out with Haakon, or something.
Envy...I hadn't done any Dobie making out in the past...10 hours?
"That's good!"
"Did you show the new guy around?" Mason asked.
"Yes, again," I said while I lingered by the sales counter, "I just left him to change to his uniform."
"That's cool," Mason said.
He was still tugging on the odd corner here and checking a fold there, moving slowly and meticulously over the rows of magazines. Almost as if he was fondling some nice pecs...
Ahem. Shouldn't let Rory Junior access my visual centers so that he could come up with imagery like that...hmm...
"Everything alright?" I asked. "Not too rough a start to the term?"
Mason's ears flicked a little, and he gave me a quick look over his shoulder before going back to making sure that the stack of General Interest magazines was just perfect, thumbs covering the screaming "100 THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT DIABETES!" headline on the cover that showed a smiling ewe holding a steaming carrot cake.
"Uhm, no, not really," he said. "Just taking a few courses and maybe starting to think about my thesis and...yeah, that's about it, keeping stuff busy."
"Well I remember how it is," I said, "do ask me if you ever think I could help with something, you know you always can."
Maybe for tips on how to please a cat in bed...spice up one of those one on one study sessions...
Guh.
Rory Junior, seriously?
"Sure, I'll remember that," Mason said, "thanks, really."
"I mean it!" I smiled.
"Well, thanks again," he said.
Didn't feel like I was going to get here anywhere, either. Hmm. Maybe it was due to our semi-comatose state at this time of the day. Mason didn't seem like to be any more of a morning fur than I was.
"So would you rather walk the floor or stay behind the counter?" I said. "That is, if you don't mind helping Paul out with the cash register if he needs some extra help with it. He did assure that he knows how to work them, but you never know..."
"I guess I wouldn't have any trouble with that," Mason said.
"I trust you completely," I spoke in a slightly too serious a tone, while smirking. The flicker of Mason's ears told me that he got the message, too, which made me feel nice. It was good to be in fine terms with the wolf, even if I did feel a bit strained about the current situation, how I knew things about him and...and perhaps h suspected things about me, and we just hadn't gotten to that point yet when we had the space to just...let it all go.
"I mean, as long as he knows how to count the change..." he said.
"He used to work in a place where you have to wear an apron, I suspect he does know," I said.
"Like a supermarket?" Mason asked, brow perking a little as he questioned me about the new guy.
"A bookstore," I replied, "with traditions."
"Didn't this place used to be like that, too?" Mason asked. "Marge keeps talking about the old times..."
"Apparently so," I replied, "mahogany and teak and lacquer and rugs and antique chairs and dust, she says, just like Old Mister Albrecht liked it."
"So the Young Mister Albrecht didn't?" Mason asked.
"You'll have to ask Marge about that, she saw the great renovation, as far as I know," I said, "I mean, it was even before I started studying at Taylor, this bookstore had been modernized around the time I first visited."
"Never realized Marge has worked here so long," Mason said, more in a voice that seemed to imply that he couldn't believe she was _that_old, really.
I chuckled, my tail swaying about.
"She's a pro," I said, "we should appreciate that."
I hoped that wasn't too close to saying that she was seasoned, which I'm sure would've threatened my lion-butt with a big old tail-swat.
"Yeah, definitely," Mason said.
"And I'm sure Paul is a hard worker, too, so we don't have to worry about him slacking around," I said, "Marge has inspected him, after all."
Her eyes practically strip-searched the boy, but I knew that was just Marge being Marge.
"You don't say?" Mason's fluffy tail shuffled, brushing against Guns and More Guns and Paws Illustrated.
"Of course, if there seems to be any trouble, just ask me and I'll be right there," I said, "I'll be just helping out the customers, after all, I don't have paperwork or anything to do."
Thank God for that.
"Gotcha," Mason said.
"You almost dropped the 'Gamers' Pawbooks', though," I pointed at another stack of magazines he had ruffled on the rack, "mind giving them a poke?"
"Yes, boss," the wolf rumbled.
I smiled, amused enough, and watched him do some careful arranging while my nose suddenly picked up a renewed whiff of tiger mixed with bagel. A quick relocation of my eyes found the tiger, now wearing a red shirt slightly too big around his midriff, approaching with an easy swing to his tail and a bagel in his paw, wrapped in a paper napkin.
"Is it alright to eat on the floor?" he asks right away, his eyes questioning in the direction of the still untouched bagel, which smells nice...it might actually be a little warm still, judging by the aroma that tickles my taste buds.
"As long as the customers don't see it and you don't leave any crumbs," I said casually.
"Understood," the tiger replied. "I had to hurry in the morning because I wasn't exactly sure how long it would take me to get here, so I had to skip breakfast and buy this off the street."
"Oh?" I mused. "Where do you live?"
"In Lyon Estates," the tiger said.
That was a very nice area. Suburban, with big houses and lawns and professional people living there. A bit different kind of nice from, say, where Victor lived, right near downtown, but definitely very nice. Not exactly the first place where I'd imagine a student to live. Hadn't he mentioned something about living with his family? I tried to remember what he'd said during the interview, but I wasn't there for all of it.
"That's on the other side of town, isn't it?" I replied.
"Beyond Hilldale and...Swan Bridge, which I found to be something of a traffic bottleneck," the tiger replied.
"Well, it is, because that's where the southern part of the city connects with the 390 and 90, and everyone coming into the city pretty much takes the road," I advised him.
"Should I program my GPS to find an alternative route?" Paul asked.
"Well if you find it a nuisance..."
"I also forgot to ask you, does anyone come to work by car?" he continued. "I wasn't exactly sure where to park mine. I left mine a few blocks down and walked here."
"Sorry, I don't even have a car," I replied with puffed cheeks, "Mason?"
"The Furbank Tower on Barrow Street," he said, "or the underground park on the intersection of Granger and Slocombe."
I chuckled.
"I didn't know you knew so much about parking downtown," I mused.
"I've had to help mom and dad enough times," Mason said.
"Thank you," Paul said, "I shall have to remember that."
"No problem," Mason replied.
"Really," Paul said, "always glad to get some help before I find my way around here. Mason, wasn't it?"
"Yup," the wolf said.
"Paul," the tiger said, thankfully sounding a bit more relaxed than before, when talking with me. "Paul Lyndon."
"Nice meeting you again," Mason said.
Perhaps this would turn out alright.
*
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and I hope to read your thoughts on the chapter!
See you soon!
Cheerio!