House Arrest
(Content note: This is not "adult" in the more crass sense, but in the more philosophical sense. In addition to difficult ethical issues and relationships, this story is quite an emotional rollercoaster.)
(Note to biologists: I have not studied Evo-Devo formally at all, so don't expect this to be too realistic.)
House Arrest
Dr. Anthony was awoken from his nap by his phone ringing.
The anthro fox's eyes snapped open, even before his brain was fully awake, and shifted himself on the couch to try and answer it quickly. He didn't want to disturb a black ball of fur on top of him who was his napping companion.
He barely got his pocket-sized device and pressed Answer as soon as he could. "Yes Larry?" he groaned.
"Now don't be upset Ben," cautioned the familiar Military Policeman through the speaker, "but Dr. Gryndeen is here to see you."
That was the last person he wanted to ruin a nap for. "Tell him that if he has something to say," he snarled drowsily, a bit of frustration creeping into his voice, "he can say it in an e-mail."
He was about to hang up, when Larry answered, "hang on Ben, just a second..."
There was a brief silence.
"He says he wants to give you good news for a change," was all the cat said.
"Yeah, the good news that I've been raised from 'excrement' to 'human' in his opinion. Tell him to eat shit."
"Master?" asked Peter, now awake, who rolled off of Dr. Anthony's chest and righted himself, "aren't you being a little hard on him?"
The fox looked down at his cute black pet, adorably propping his feral front feet up on him. As always, the moment he did, he couldn't help but feel his spirits lifted by the utter cuteness; particularly the way both his eyes and ears seemed to look up at him.
"Alright, Larry," he relented, "ask him one question. Trust me, he'll know what it means: does he still think I'm a rapist?"
"Uh... I'll ask," perplexedly answered the voice.
There was another pause, before he finally answered, "He says he is here to find that out for himself, and that if he is wrong, he will retract his editorial."
"What editorial?" asked the black bundle of fur resting on him.
"Okay, Larry, let him in... but if you hear any yelling, come straight in. There might be a murder in progress."
"Please don't joke about that, Ben," sighed Larry.
"If you're going to watch me, the least you can do is keep an ear out."
"Always do," replied Larry.
"Right, bye." Dr. Anthony hung up. "Go get your brothers," he directed gently as he carefully picked up Peter by the ribs, letting the fox's body hang and stretch out to its full two feet like a cat. "Dr. Gryndeen will want to see you all show off," he added as he set his pet on the floor.
"Great!" excitedly yipped the fox. "I think we're ready! We've been practicing for weeks!" He trotted up the stairs.
Dr. Anthony, meanwhile, got on his robe -- the first thing he'd put on since dinner -- and moved from the warm couch to a cold, but much more formal looking, old leather chair.
No matter how calm his pets made him, his heart still raced when he saw the tall and lanky green pterodactyl -- the only one of his kind -- stride slowly in. He seemed a bit creakier, but was wearing the same thing Dr. Anthony remembered from his courses: a blue sweater (despite the summer weather), a collared shirt, and a pair of khaki's.
It brought Dr. Anthony back to the days when he was his student -- particularly the summers. But all of the fondness and respect that he still felt were now tinged with the bitterness of betrayal. He wanted to scream at him, and then hug him, and the scream some more. But all he did was clench his teeth and sit stiffly in the chair.
Neither of them bowed in greeting to each other. Instead, Dr. Anthony waited until the long form was seated on the faded purple couch, long arms resting on the back and left arm rest, respectively. Only then did he speak.
"I am surprised you are here," stated Dr. Anthony coldly.
"I am here because of two lessons I learned long ago," Dr. Gryndeen replied calmly. "First, never hold a grudge for more than six months. Second, never miss an opportunity to collect data if it is presented to you. Especially if it comes from someone with whom you disagree."
"You did more than disagree with that editorial," pointed out Dr. Anthony sharply. "You made sure that I will never get published again, even when my House Arrest is over. Editors remember 'ethical problems' for a lot longer than six months."
"As I said," emphasized Dr. Gryndeen gently, "if you can convince me that you really did create beings capable of not only comprehension, but social maturity, I will change my mind. And don't underestimate the power of a second editorial on the subject."
"Very well. Here's your data." Dr. Anthony whistled, and an avalanche of scampering feet came down the stairs.
What rounded the corner of the stairwell was a small pack of feral foxes, the largest no more than two and a half feet tall and three feet long, including tail. All had fur that was significantly overgrown and jet black, with occasional splashes of white, and bright eyes and sharply pointed ears that seemed to show a constant look of attention and interest.
All of them trotted up in front of Dr. Gryndeen, tails wagging excitedly like dogs. But rather than barking, they begged for attention with words created by yappy voices: "hi, mister!" "how are you mister?" "Are you cold, mister?" "Will you pick me up mister?" "Please pet me, mister!"
For the first time Dr. Anthony had ever seen, Dr. Grydeen was so shocked his mouth dropped open. Without really thinking, he reached down, and picked up one of the foxes, who eagerly rolled up into a fluffy ball in his arms.
"Thank you, mister!"
"Ah ah," tutted Gryndeen, "you can't have all the fun. Let me get the others."
With a look of compassion, like he was picking up animals lost and hungry, he brought them one at a time up onto the couch. Each seemed to find a comfortable and incredibly cute position nearby: in his lap, by his arms, or snuggling by his side if nothing else would do.
Dr. Anthony couldn't help but smile with vicarious affection at the sight -- and further enhancing his sense of I-told-you-so, neither could Dr. Gryndeen.
Once all five were comfortable, the dinosaur opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. He closed it and opened it again, his face reflecting a look of pity.
"What," he finally asked weakly with a smile, "have you done to my laboratory foxes?"
"It's complicated," answered one of his cuddling companions.
"He says he cloned us," answered another.
"You wouldn't understand," said a third, in a patronizing tone.
"Actually," interrupted Dr. Anthony, after enjoying that tone for a split second, "he's the only one would. He taught me everything I know." He let his admiration glimmer through for this moment -- admiration he still kept, even though the trust and affection he once held had been grievously injured.
All of his pets all reacted in mirror images of each other, surprise lighting up both their eyes and ears: "really?" "He's the famous one?" "He's who taught you?" "Hey Mister, what were your foxes like? Are they our parents?"
"Now, now," called the anthro fox over the din, "calm down, my pets! Please! You are being rude to our guest! He has come for a reason, which is very important to your master's work."
Dr. Gryndeen shot him a look. "Master, you said?"
The foxes answered for him. "Yes, we call him master." "It's a lot shorter than Doc-tor Ben-ja-min An-tho-ny." "I kinda like it!" "What would you call someone who gave you food and cuddles whenever you needed them?"
Dr. Anthony kept smiling, but sharpened his eyes into daggers driving into his mentor's skull. He was trying to transmit his message through hypothetical telepathy: You cannot help but sense their intelligence, can you, Doctor?
And even better, as the foxes made themselves comfortable on and around Dr. Gryndeen, it was basically impossible for him not to pet them. Wherever his hands went, there was a furry head presenting itself.
"Well, um --" It was nice also to see his mentor falter for words for once. "-- do you think he's a good master?"
"Wonderful!" "Couldn't be better!" "Loves petting us, a lot!" "Takes good care of us!"
Dr. Anthony blinked hard at the hook, and Dr. Gryndeen heard it too. "Hold on, hold on... just how much does he like petting you?"
The foxes, again in unison, went uncharacteristically silent, and looked to their master for guidance.
Dr. Gryndeen, surprised by this action, gave Dr. Anthony a rather suspicious look.
"Why would you ask them that?" snapped Dr. Anthony. "You certainly claimed you already knew in your editorial!"
"I accused you based on how... friendly you were with my foxes," sighed his mentor. "Perhaps I was being a bit rash. You know how much I care about my foxes... just as much as you seem to care for yours. Wouldn't you be more than a little upset if you learned your lab assistant was going out behind your back and -- I don't know, torturing them?"
"That was five years ago," answered the anthro fox sternly. "I don't think it was torture, but I probably was a bit... more unfriendly than I realized."
"Master?" nervously asked Peter. "What you mean? What did you do to them, master?"
Dr. Anthony's anger left him in the face of that nervous tone of voice. Not only was his former master about to hear the truth, but the ones he most cared about were too... a truth he'd never planned on telling them.
He got so uncomfortable that Peter jumped down from Dr. Gryndeen's lap, and walked over to him, jumping up in Dr. Anthony's instead. "Master?" he repeated, eyes looking up at Dr. Anthony, worry growing in them by the second.
Without even thinking, Dr. Anthony grabbed Peter in a tight hug, trying to assuage that worry... but it wouldn't do by itself. He would have to tell the truth.
"I... I don't think you want to know," he answered nervously, running his fingers through the soft fur to keep his eyes from tearing up, "I would never, ever do it again... and I don't want you to think of me like that. I would never do it to you. I promise."
"Please, Master, it's okay... tell me."
The other foxes had their eyes fixed upon him, just as intently as Dr. Gryndeen did. However, their looks were much kinder than his.
"Well," gulped Dr. Anthony, "you know that third step of our special petting routine?"
The fox seemed about to say something, but stopped himself. "Oh... I think I know which one you mean."
"And you know how I don't do it to Jerry and Tim because they don't like it?"
"Yes..."
"Well, the reason I do that... is because I 'practiced' it on his foxes. And I enjoyed it. And they, of course, couldn't tell me they didn't like it."
Peter gave a visible wince.
"But since then, I have changed," begged Dr. Anthony, focusing more on Peter than anyone else in the room. "I got some short-term gratification, but I saw -- even years ago -- that it was probably not pleasant for most of them. Why do you think I set out on the quest to solve that ethical problem by creating you and your brothers?"
"Did you really solve it?" interjected Dr. Gryndeen, "or did you simply create more problems?"
That voice was one Dr. Anthony did not need in the middle of his heart-to-heart conversation. "No more problems," he snarled at the pterodactyl, "than the Global Council subsidizes every year with their New Family Incentive!"
"I'm afraid I must disagree strongly with that particular sentiment," replied Dr. Gryndeen, voice getting sharper but remaining entirely calm. "Because you are not merely replicating sentient life, but designing it. Not even the humans did that for fear of what kind of path it would send them down; they always replicated from nature."
Dr. Anthony took a deep breath, trying to keep his fear and disappointment from turning into anger. "Now is not the best time to discuss this, Horace," he coldly stated. "Please continue to collect your data on my experiments, or leave."
"Very well," answered Gryndeen, returning his attention to the black furred creatures around him. "I have more questions for them. Such as, just what's involved in this 'special petting routine'?"
Just hearing such a distinct and authoritative voice utter those very intimate and specific words made Dr. Anthony bristle, grabbing Peter almost protectively without thinking as he prepared a verbal dagger to stab at the heart.
"I think you'd understand it pretty well," Dr. Anthony answered, bringing the imaginary knife up to the green stomach, "since it's pretty similar to the one you use on the male students in your fraternity house."
Dr. Gryndeen took a good two seconds to return his face to normal from what Dr. Anthony interpreted as a flash of anger. He really got him with that!
"They agree to that," he replied back, voice no sharper than it was before.
"So do my foxes. Don't you all?" he asked, looking at them.
"Yes!" "Of course." "Uh huh." "Who wouldn't?"
Peter was the one who added the last bit. "Easy, Peter," chastised Dr. Anthony, "any one of you could object. And if you did, I would listen to you, because I want to make you all as comfortable as I can."
"And just what are you getting in return?" asked Dr. Gryndeen.
"Research funding... or at least, I was for a while. But I also get companions who, if they will have me, I really do enjoy the company of."
Dr. Gryndeen snorted. "What can they do for you besides let you 'pet' them?" he asked callously.
"Well..." piped up Jerry on the pterodactyl's side, "sometimes we fetch him stuff."
"We tried making him tea once," answered Tim on the dinosaur's lap, "but it didn't go very well."
"Tim almost brought down boiling water on all of them," sighed Dr. Anthony, memory unable to help but make him hug Peter as the thoughts of near-disaster returned to him. "Now they know better than to do anything in the kitchen."
"But we tried!" insisted Tim with his yappy voice, "we really want to make you happy!"
"I think it's wonderful that you tried... and why I've been a bit more careful about what I keep laying around the house since then."
Dr. Anthony smiled down at Peter. "You think your low-adrenaline foxes were curious," he added affectionately to the Doctor. "Well you wouldn't believe these little rascals get into!" He started tickling Peter's rib cage, getting the fox to giggle. "They make yours look like scared deer!"
"Master, please!" giggled Peter, "stop Master stop!"
It only took that to get him to stop, and the still laughing fox tried to catch his breath. "Master..." he gasped, still smiling, "you almost... had a mess in your chair... may I be excused?"
"Certainly, go take care of that."
He knew Peter's ribcage was still ticklish, so he avoided even touching the fox, and just let him roll to his feet, stand, jump down to the floor, and trot over to the stairs before starting to climb them.
"They're all toilet trained," Dr. Anthony explained.
"I'd hope so," replied Dr. Gryndeen with a bit of a smile. "I'm sure you wouldn't sign up to clean their cages all over again, like you did for me."
"Yeah... But what about you, Horrace? Are you satisfied that I'm not a crime against nature?"
"Not entirely. Can they read?"
"I'm working on that. Tim and Peter can read, at least."
"Yeah we're the smart ones!" "Hey, no fair!" Two of the foxes jumped down from Dr. Gryndeen onto the floor, and started play-fighting.
Both Dr. Anthony and Dr. Gryndeen watched them fight for a good half minute before Tim backed off, and said through heavy breath, "okay, okay, you win."
"Thank you!" beamed Jerry.
"Besides, I don't care about that!" playfully spat Tim. "When I hear what you read when you read to him, it's all stupid anyway!"
"What does he ask you to read?" asked Dr. Gryndeen, kindly -- but with a look that made it clear he was now getting the metaphorical dagger out to stick into Dr. Anthony.
"Jerry!" barked Dr. Anthony, "I think you've said enough."
"Nonsense!" insisted Dr. Gryndeen, syrup in his voice, "I'm sure that Dr. Anthony wouldn't mind. I mean, he once told me that he trusted me completely."
That was quite a stab wound, but before Dr. Anthony could respond, Tim answered.
"It's okay master," Tim insisted, "I'll tell him: I read him Dr. Gryndeen's scientific papers."
Dr. Anthony's face went limp, as he tried to decide what to do about this: it was not a very convincing lie at all, but it was better than the truth.
But to his surprise, as the anthro fox was about to say something, he saw the pterodactyl similarly stunned.
"Really?" he asked.
"Really! The last one was about... um... molecu...lari...uh...genitical... uh... whatever it's called. Right?"
It was close enough that Dr. Anthony decided to play it straight. "See?" he replied as smoothly as he could.
"I see," replied Gryndeen distantly, still shocked. "Um, would you all mind letting me talk to your master in private, please?"
The anthro fox sensed this was important. "Please," he added.
"Sure! We can do round two upstairs!" laughed Tim.
The remaining foxes jumped off of Gryndeen's lap, and they all scampered back up the stairs from whence they came.
Dr. Gryndeen stood up, back to his greater-than-six foot stature, walked about half way over to Anthony, knelt on one knee, and offered his hand in a gesture Dr. Anthony had never had made to him before.
"Ben, I take it all back," he stated solemnly, eyes becoming the softest they had yet been. "Will you forgive me?"
But Dr. Anthony was not in the mood to be swayed by such a display, for it made all of the hatred and betrayal return to the foremost in his mind. "Did I convince you?" he asked levelly.
"You've convinced me of a miracle!" he answered. "I am in awe! You created a non-human creature that has the memory, vocabulary, and social sense to lie half-way convincingly!"
Dr. Anthony was briefly stung that the lie did not succeed, but the fact that the question had, in fact, dropped, was a victory... not to mention the subsequent result that was now playing out.
"I would be willing to retract everything I said about you... if you, in turn, would tell me how much of your mind and heart went into them."
It was standard Horace Gryndeen, thought Dr. Anthony: the intellect was temporarily blinded, so the heart took over. He was almost like a teenager in this respect, in spite of his nearing seventy years -- and it was part of why, if Dr. Anthony was honest with himself, he had fallen under his spell all those years ago. And why he still felt affection for him now.
"You may be able to drop your grudges after six months," replied Dr. Anthony cautiously, "but I cannot so easily. It will take time... but if you are really willing to do all that, I can at least call a truce."
He stood up, and gently took the elder male's hands in his own. "For whatever it's worth," he admitted as the green form stood to match him, "even when I was mad at you... I knew your editorial was honest. And while it was a bit overzealous, and too widely read, I don't blame you for feeling that way."
"And it doesn't surprise me that you, similarly, are taking your conviction and House Arrest so well. And that you really believe in what you did."
It took the momentary silence that followed for Dr. Anthony to realize just how close their bodies had drifted: still holding each others' hands, they now had their fingers criss-crossed, and had brought their chests quite close together. It was enough that the anger in Dr. Anthony started to subside -- and even though he knew it might come back later, he decided he would enjoy this moment.
"Can we... sit on the couch?" asked Dr. Gryndeen after a long moment.
"I suppose we can try that one more time," the fox answered coyly. And when they sat, with silent, mostly-unconscious coordination, Dr. Anthony allowed himself to be laid down across his former mentor's lap.
"If you think this will end like it used to," teased Dr. Anthony with a smile, "you're wrong."
"Of course not," replied the taller male, whose long, bony fingers reached out to brush his head -- behind the ears. Even after all this time, he remembered what relaxed the fox. And that was what finally drew the bile from Dr. Anthony, and let his affection return.
***
"So..." sighed Ben, after spending a couple minutes just relaxing into this this moment they were having, "you really want to know the secret, huh?"
"Why do you think I remembered the ears?" Horace replied with a warm smile.
Ben almost blushed, but kept himself on topic. "Okay then: the secret is in what I said earlier. I'm doing nothing less ethical than Dr. Schmidt did in creating us. Because I used exactly the same procedure -- more or less, anyway."
"Really?" asked Horace, sounding genuinely surprised.
"I had a lot more iterations and I had to, uh, 'borrow' a lot of the computing power, but think about it: how else would you design a completely new organism? Start with the template. Clone it through nucleic transfer. Develop it up through Hox stage 2. Model the baseline for the Monty Carlo simulation, and start making adjustments based on current research. When you get 10,000 valid designs, grow them out and see what happens."
"But the stuff he was grafting on was simple by comparison," sighed Dr. Gryndeen, questions sharp but voice quite relaxed. "Forget about the neocortex, how did you do even speech processing? That's a lot more than changing the growth of human hair into a coat fur."
"I got one of my grad students to run develop a new nerual-something-or-other pattern analysis tool back at Joel University for his thesis, and it 'accidentally' discovered a reasonable heuristic for development of the Broche area if I let Hox get all the way to stage 3. And then, it was blind trial and error from there."
Dr. Gryndeen seemed thoughtful for a moment, before he reluctantly asked, "so how many of them made it past stage 3?"
Dr. Anthony's body rose from relaxation back to the tension where they had started. "I tried my very best to get rid of even most of them that looked viable until I spent a great deal of time on that model... but in the end, it still wasn't great. I knew that going in, but..."
Some part of Dr. Anthony suddenly wanted to cry, but he held it back. "If you want to know why I pled guilty to Illegal Genetic Alteration, that's why."
"How many?" the pterodactyl whispered gently.
Horrace's voice was so soft, his eyes so forgiving, that Ben could keep his eyes from tearing up, but his voice didn't get the memo. He had to sniff and clear his throat before he could answer clearly:
"Besides those you met... fifty two in the first batch, fifteen in the second."
Ben swallowed before adding, more for himself than his mentor: "It was only Hox stage 3, so I know none of them felt a thing, much less become aware they existed... but that just makes me feel human rather than like a pile of excrement. I still support my own conviction whole-heartedly. No one else should try this. If they have the heart, it will be crushed, and if they don't then they should have their degree revoked."
"The most dedicated friend I ever knew," suddenly stated Horrace, as if Ben had asked him a question, "was someone who worked on GEN-K. You know, that nuclear research project that they keep moving around because no one will house it without their citizens revolting? Well, I think you've just found the nuclear energy of biology."
Dr. Anthony had nothing to say, but a sigh. His heart felt just as heavy as plutonium.
"I completely understand how you feel," added Horrace, "which is why I'd like to see a list of the extra exons you added."
"Why do you want those?" Dr. Anthony asked, voice a bit sharper than he intended.
"Because if you've got the complete sequence, and they are sentient, then I think technically you are a father and you can clone as many as you want in your Reproductive Rights."
"I don't think so," he insisted, heart making him reject the idea of making anymore.
"Sure, a lawyer would argue about the exact method of zygote creation, but the idea is in there. Since you've done all the work, I can touch the dials for you, not requiring you to violate your inability to access a lab."
"No," insisted Dr. Anthony coldly.
"Unless you have cured all their diseases, I'm sure you will want new ones by the end of the decade, as your old ones will... have expired by then."
"Wait! Are we getting more brothers!?" exclaimed a much higher voice.
Dr. Anthony startled and sat bolt upright to see all Tim and Jerry standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"How long have you two been standing there!?" yelled Dr. Anthony, almost in a panic.
"I'm sorry, Master," whined Tim, "we just thought it was so cute to see you being petted by someone else!"
"Your master told you he wanted privacy!" he snapped. "You've been very, very bad!"
Both of their faces fell, but Jerry had a bit more courage. "Because of what we saw," he asked, "or what we heard?"
That was even more painful a question. "Because... I didn't want you to know those things. To know... how bad it made me feel. What I gave up to bring you into the world, and what will happen..."
His brain suddenly saw a picture, 10 years later, of a Jerry's lifeless body in his arms, and the tears broke free. He felt Horace hug him, but it didn't help. He just started sobbing into his hands.
As the tears continued to flow, soon he felt a familiar pelt start brushing one of his arms. Eyes closed, he groped around, and hugged the warm body to him, arms curling in more or less the same way that they did in his mind. He wanted to feel the breathing and the heart rate of Jerry. He wanted to know he was still alive.
He felt the blood pumping through him, and soon the tongue licking his cheek, which simultaneously comforted him and felt incredibly fragile. It was something he never wanted to stop feeling, but was crying over the fact that he would have to stop someday. That this feeling was not forever.
It simply took a minute and a good cry for his brain to right itself; to start drawing more comfort than longing from the sensations of the black furry ball he gripped. Slowly, he gathered himself back together, opened his eyes, and tried to take stock of the world. His mentor was hugging him, Jerry was in his arms, and Tim was by his side. This was supposed to be a really good thing, and he started being able to feel that again.
"Thank you. All of you," he sniffed. "I'm okay. Really. Jerry... do you know why I treat you so good?"
"Because you love me?"
"Yes. But also because... unless something terrible happens, I will outlive you. By many years. And I want to make the most of it."
"That's nothing to cry about, master," he replied, face droopy but sympathetic. "Because to me, it means I'll always have you to take care of me. No matter what happens."
His eyes threatened to restart... but they didn't have the tears left. His voice however, did its part, and cracked. "That's the nicest thing you have ever said to me," he whined, voice cracking as he hugged the fluffy ball tighter. "Thank you."
"See? Wasn't it all worth it master?"
"I wish you could have had more brothers," he sighed, "but I'm glad you're here. Why don't you go get everyone? Tim?"
The fox scampered up the stairs, made a commotion that didn't quite carry except for higher-pitched noises, and then a cacophony of feet came down the stairs, and bundles of fur jumped all over Dr. Anthony an Dr. Gryndeen.
Once everyone was comfortable, they talked long into the night. Dr. Gryndeen did not ask a single other question about the foxes. Instead, it was about the research, were there any findings, and also Dr. Anthony got to learn what Dr. Gryndeen was up to after they had stopped speaking before.
"And on top of all that," Dr. Gryndeen concluded, "I'm surprised at how many frat students I have this year."
"But how many of them stayed during the summer?" asked Dr. Anthony -- voice playful, rather than spiteful, when he uttered the suggestive question.
"Unfortunately, only three. And one's a female, so she's out."
"You know, Horace," Dr. Anthony asked, looking over his shoulder upward to see his mentor's face, "I've wanted to ask you for years: how do you get away with it?"
The elder male's hand stopped its stroking on his ears, as the green eyes gave him a small sour look. "What do you mean 'get away' with? It's perfectly legitimate."
Dr. Anthony was not so sure. "Really?" he asked flatly.
"Really! It's no secret."
"And the Compliance Officer?"
"I've gone through two since you graduated, and each one takes about a year to give up. So did Mr. Miles."
"What, do you bribe them?"
"Of course not!" he snapped. It took him a moment to return to his jovial tone of voice. "I challenge them."
"Challenge them?"
"Take Sam, the new one. End of winter semester, all of the rumors reached her ears, and she asked for some 'one-on-one' time in my office. I knew what was coming. She tried to be polite and diplomatic, and I just interrupted her and blew her mind. 'Is this about me sleeping with students?' I said."
Dr. Anthony snorted.
"And you wouldn't BELIEVE the stunned look on her face. Well, I knew an opening when I saw one. So, I gave the same spiel I give to everyone who asks: I'm not trying to hide anything. It's consensual, it's over the summer, and they have to start it. It's just adults being adults."
Dr. Anthony nodded. "Yeah, but --"
"So," continued Dr. Gryndeen on his roll, "I give her the challenge: find any student complaining I've abused them, or find any time a student's grade has gone up instead of down after I've started, and I'll resign immediately. Oh, and here's a list of where to start."
Dr. Anthony couldn't help but guffaw. "A list!?"
"Of course I keep a list! With dates and everything! You know, just in case someone's memory is faulty, especially mine."
"Wait wait," Dr. Anthony chuckled, trying to get a grip, "what about me? You're telling me that --"
"Yes! Think about it: what would you say was your hardest class with me?"
"Uh... Genetics 3?... Hmm, it was the summer before, wasn't it?" He couldn't help but smile in recognition.
"See? I'm not a dirty old human lusting after students half his age. I'm enraptured by intellectual prowess. Anyone who can survive a frat with no drugs, no alcohol, no stims, and no caffeine is a start." His voice grew snarky. "Anyone who can survive the courses when I decide to make them into a real geneticist is what really gets me excited."
Dr. Anthony blushed. "Are you sure... that was the only thing?"
He felt the long green fingers returning to his ears. "Well, that fur of yours doesn't hurt, particularly. But someone who is both willing to listen and able to hack it, that's the real necessity. And, as you can see, I have yet to get in trouble. Sam never mentioned it again."
"Well... just because you don't get in trouble doesn't mean it's a good idea," concluded Dr. Anthony. "But I'm not going to say anything more about it. I couldn't change your mind anyway -- or perhaps I should say, your heart."
The fox looked down to see Peter giving him quite a look. "Do you want to say something?" asked Dr. Anthony.
"Could we have him over more? He seems nice."
"And smooth," added Tim, who was curled up beside Horace's shoulder.
"Well... we'll see. Maybe," Ben answered. Even though the rubbing of his ears told him it should be yes.
The End.