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Dalten Samuel Taylor Jr gently raised the baton to it's full height. He could hear the many whisperings and soft noises of musicians getting instruments ready. He paused before bringing the baton down, beginning the final movement of Beethoven's 8Th. Many argued the 9thwas the most impressive, Dal would argue all day that the 8thwas the most brooding of them all. It matched his mood.

Rick sat in the wings, frantically practicing his fingerings. He'd be the on stage entertainment during the intermission between the Beethoven 8th, and Dalton's own Requiem Celebration for the Final Founding. He listened with half an ear as he worked on the piece, thinking back to the lyrics.

**

"I'm sure glad you could come Dal." Dalten Sr. drawled lazily, sitting on the porch. Vi, Rick, and Meghan were in the parlor chatting while Dal and his dad had a chat.

"Me too dad, I don't get to come here enough really." Dalten sighed scratching his arm idly where his fetlocks had grown to their full length, catching golden lights in the sunset. Dal's dad sighed. "Yah I know. I'm glad you brought Rick. That boy is just a joy."

Dal Jr. smirked. "He is Dad, I'd be lost without him." Dal Sr. nodded.

He knew his son well enough. His son latched on hard to people. With this whole Soul Bonding and Soul Touching, Dal Sr. was just as glad. It gave them a link, or so he heard. He was afraid his son would need all the help he could get.

He knew Dal and Rick had one serious problem when it came to realizing the situation they had been in. That one act of Dal's during the concert had sparked something in people. Some people were full of hate. Some were full of tolerance and acceptance. The biggest problem with people like either of those is that they tended to fight until one side won regardless of cost.

Dal Sr. rubbed his still aching ribs. Damn that Carson!

"Does it still hurt?" Dal Jr looked at his dad, radiating concern.

"Only the memory. Listen, why don't you go in and give Rick a break. Send him out to me, I'd like to speak to him."

Dal's son only raised his eyes, nodded, and headed inside.

A few minutes later Dal Sr. heard the canine foot pads and the soft click of claws as the youngster joined him on the porch.

"You wanted to see me sir?"

Dal Sr. laughed throatily. "Sir? Since when did you get to be so formal son?"

Rick blushed and rubbed his neck. His shirtless form catching the light. Dal Sr. may not go for men but he could appreciate a fine specimen, and Rick certainly was one of those.

"Well....I don't know si....I mean Dalten sir. Its just, well...."

The young pup trailed off. Dal Sr. nickered his amusement at the canine's discomfit.

"It's alright son, spit it out."

Rick sighed. "I was just afraid that your feelings might have changed since...well...since you were attacked because of Dal and me...."

Dalten frowned. "Nonsense. If anything it's made me feel closer to the two of you. No one messes with my boys, and I count you in on that son!"

Rick's blushed deepened.

"Which is why I asked you out here. Come with me..."

Dalten Sr. stood and strode to the barn. He could hear the dalmatian padding quickly after him.

Once inside he walked over to his work bench and reached deep under it.

"Son, I've...." here Dalten Sr felt nervous. "I've keep these all my years. Poetry, lyrics, some short stories. I....want you to have them."

Dalten Sr pulled out a thick folder filled with yellowing paper. Rick swallowed.

"Shouldn't you, ah, give these to Ken or Dal?"

Dalten Sr shook his head slowly.

"No son. That night you played for us, I could tell who would get these. I want you to have them. Use them for lyrics. I don't need them anymore. I still write when I need to, but all these are in here." Dal tapped the side of his equine head handing the thick sheaf to the canine.

Rick grinned sheepishly. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will son...."

**

Rick had picked a simple one of Dal's dad's pieces for this concert._As if anything the old stallion did was simple. He acts simple, he thinks simple, but he is so very complex! _

Rick's opinion of the old stallion had gone up about fifty points. The lyrics were genius. Inspired. They spoke of sitting with your love under a tree, watching a gentle rain fall, as all of nature sang. It was just long enough for the fifteen minute intermission. The alliteration was wonderful, and Rick had composed the music around the melody, working hard. Dal had given him no instruction and had only raised his eyes a few times during the practices as Rick played. He was getting the distinct impression Dal knew where the lyrics came from and was pleased and impressed with Rick's interpretation.

**

Dal and Rick headed to the hotel with Roland and Dwight in tow. The two hulking bodyguards making their presence known. Rick chatted about the upcoming performance. Dalten nodded a time or two. They felt a little more free in London. The cool air, the mist, and the closeness of the city made them feel at ease. It also helped that it seemed the Londoners were not as interested in them as people back home had been.

"Dal!" Rick called out. suddenly. Dalten looked back. There was a dark alley filled with graffiti they had just passed and something had caught Rick's eye. "What is it?"

"Come see this!"

Rick was staring at a wall, a grimy stained poster stood glued to crumbling brickwork. Dalten stared. There stood a white poster, now covered in soot and grime. A large horse-shoe with a single paw print in the middle. The word "UNITE!" Printed bellow. Dal swallowed and reached out tentatively touching the paper, fearing the touch would burn him. His hand slid across the drenched cheap paper.

**

The morning son shone in the flat's windows brightly, a change from the normal London weather. Rick yawned hugely, peeling his muzzle off of Dal's chest. He smirked at the damp patch. Dal reached up and scratched at it. The two went about cleaning up for the day. Dal took a long shower, taking extra time drying his mane and tail. Rick smiled. That mane was getting incredibly long as was the tail.It'll be on the ground and he'll trip on it soon if he isn't careful.

As it was Rick couldn't help stare at the stallion as he cleaned up. Dalten still found time for the gym, and was in his prime. His muscles bulged tightly under his thin layer of fur.. His teeth gleamed whitely. The chestnut mane flowing to deep coppery-gold was magnificent. The dappled marking indicating who his sire was marking his tummy, lower sides, and ass. It was plain he took after his mom, with a sprinkling of Dal Sr. in there.

Suddenly Rick found his muzzle closed gently by Dal's thick finger.

"You were drooling pup." Dal smiled down at him. Rick wagged his tail and blushed. "Well....you are definitely drool worthy."

**

The day passed quickly, and soon they found themselves at the "New" concert hall in London. It had been built during the reconstruction a hundred years ago. The throngs outside were dressed in their finest. Dal did not miss the conspicuous presence of Bobbies or Police as they were both called. The local government was not taking any chances. It made Dal feel safe.

Once within the confines of the hall, both Dal, and Rick took up their places. Dal needed no formal scripts or score. He had memorized everything. He'd been at the podium the last three weeks with the orchestra, only brang out "The Maestro" a few times to correct bad behaviors. Dal found himself reaching for Rick's hand. Dal squeezed it and felt a flood of love and support flow down their bond. Dal sent the same back. The applause started.

**

Chas sat in the third row with William. He'd sent notes to Dal and Rick last night saying that he and William would be there, and had asked the two to join them at his apartment for a light dinner after. He'd received a warm response from Rick sent directly by Roland.

The curtain rose, and Chas caught his breath. He always did when seeing Dal stride confidently up to the podium The sight of Dal with his full mane, tail, and fetlocks was stunning. He heard quite a few murmurs of appreciation. The fact that Dal still went shirtless didn't deter anyone.It thrilled the Tiger. Oh my....he's so beautiful.....does he know?

Dal bowed low, his mane almost reaching the ground. The audience's applause died down. Dal turned. He raised his baton and began.

**

Chas had always been an admirer of Mozart and Beethoven, but Dal brought out a beauty from the two composers that was fresh. It wasn't just that the music was tired, Dal interpreted it differently. He didn't add anything radical, or remove anything important, but he emphasized a phrase here, a turn of chord there, a significant pause a little longer than was standard. It was genius. Chas found himself mesmerized by the piece.

The Beethoven was just as moving. Dalten played the orchestra. They followed his every move. Their eyes were glued to him almost in trance. Chas got the feeling that there were changes being made on the fly and the orchestra responded in kind. Chas was well acquainted with classical music and this was not normal for an orchestra. Over time they got to know their conductor and anticipate their moves. This was almost like magic.

That was when the single gunshot rang out. Chas heard it, thinking someone had dropped a cymbal or something. He saw the red spread down Dal's back from his right shoulder, his mark glowing green. Dalten didn't even react. He kept going. A fight was breaking out, two more gunshots sounded along with some loud yelling, which got fainter and fainter.

Suddenly the piece came to an end. Dalten turned around. The audience could see the exit wound on the other side. Dal only grunted lightly as he bowed, removing himself from the stage, the curtain lowered.

**

"Damned British!" Rick snarled. He'd found someone's scarf and had made a rough bandage as two medics attended to Dalten.

"Calm down Rick!" Dal almost shouted at the frightened dalmatian. Rick snarled at his lover. Fear lanced from the bond from him to Dal. Dal took it in himself and soothed rick. Soon Rick wasn't so wound up.

"Rick, look at me! It's not that bad!" Dal gestured to the stained imrpomptu bandage. The two hound medics only shrugged. "'E's right you know..." one spoke. He shrunk at the glare Rick gave him. "Still upper lip and that rot?" Rick snapped back, only slightly mollified.

"Rick listen, the show must go on, go, it's your turn. Keep the audience calm. Play....play dad's piece."

Rick stared at the equine face. Dal didn't move a muscle. "I know dad's writing. I read that piece when I was a colt. Dad was very proud of it. He'll be expecting you to play especially well for him. Now go!"

Rick nodded back at Dal, turned on his heals and walked away.

**

The curtain was down. Rick made his way to the single chair and dual microphone set. He carried "Beauty" with him, setting up the pickup microphone to the right height, he took his seat. With no introduction Rick began playing. He'd created a sweet simple tune, classical in nature, almost a folk song. He sang the words as sweetly as his voice would allow. He felt calm feed down to him from the bond from Dal and his voice grew stronger.

**

Chas stared from his seat as Rick played. Roland had been out to tell him that Dal was not badly injured at all "Clean through and through." Chas almost chuckled at the old 'flesh wound' joke. Rick's voice was true and sweet. The song was melodic, and held you captive. Soon he noticed more and more people were taking their seats during the intermission. Within a minute or two the audience was back, enraptured as Rick sang the sweet melody.

**

Rick lost himself to the tune, winding the worlds of Dalten Sr. around the melody, the descant picking up parts of the previous melody until finally he was in the final round. He felt his shoulder burn where the mark was and felt slightly weak. Soon enough the song was over, his hands lightly strumming the final chording He opened his eyes to thunderous applause, He stood shakily and bowed, and made it off state. He made it to a chair in the wings looking at a very confused Dalten and a couple of confused medics. The wound on Dalten Jr's shoulder had healed entirely.

Someone shoved a glass of wine into his hand "Drink up old boy, you'll need it!" Rick stared at the grinning face of Chas.

**

Dalten made it through the first and second movement of the Requiem Celebration and had started in on the final movement. Sound caught his ear. Angry sounds. Sounds from outside. He kept conducting, the orchestra and choir bent on his every move. He could sense panic rising in the audience.

Oh no....no you don't...not while I'm here! This is MY piece!

Dal had no idea how he did it, but he channeled his nervous energy through the music and out over the crowd. He heard the voices silence, the shuffling stopped. It took tons of energy from him, but the more people generated, the more he had to work with. He drew their fear into him, turning it to calm peace. Finally the final strains of the chorus finished. He cut of the musicians at the same time as he cut of his energies directed at the audience. He turned. Sweat poured off of him. His hand went up to cover the mark, he bowed deeply.

"For you...." He whispered. Calmly he turned and walked off. The sound of a full riot outside. The audience gave him a standing ovation.

**

Rick had been slowly gaining his strength back stage as the noises started. He heard a few minor explosions and restive noises. Then he heard the audience begin to move about in their seats. Suddenly strength poured from him to Dal, and an incredible sense of peace came over him. When the movement finished, he didn't just hear Dal, he FELT Dal say "For you...." and Dal had meant it for everyone in the venue, including Rick. A collective sigh broke out. Chas looked down at him frowning.

"This is not going to be good."

**

The riot kept to the streets outside of the concert hall. People threw home made explosives, and threw trash bins and rocks at the building. A long line of police formed around the building. The riot spread to only the nearby streets. Most of the chanting was confused and garbled, but one message came out clear. "Death to traitors!" Most of the concert goers decided to stay within the hall. The staff wisely made the decision that "drinks were on the house" as slightly sauced people were more than likely easier to handle.

Chas had ushered Rick and Dal to a waiting car surrounded by police cruisers directly out the back door where the rioting was not as strong. Chas, William, Roland, Dwight, Rick and Dall all squeezed in as the overloaded sedan made its way through the streets with its escort.

"Well I think you've made an impression!" Chas seemed to have affected a bit of a British accent. Rick rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

Chas looked pained. "Well it's true."

Dal was still looking at his shoulder, disbelief that the bullet hadn't even left a mark. He had realized that Rick had done that. He had healed him during his own song, just as he had for Rick so long ago.

**

The car pulled up to a very expensive block of apartments. Dal and Rick were ushered up to the room by Chas and William. Dwight and Roland would head back to the flat Dal and Rick had making certain the property was safe. Dalten had also asked for his piano to be delivered. They would be here for several months. Dal had signed on to Havestrom and Company after Rick's dad had made changes to the contract. He had some other concerts planned. Some in Old Ireland, one in Paris, and a few in Moscow.

"Well, you certainly know how to treat your friends right!" Dal spoke aloud as he stepped into the grand entrance, and main room of the apartment.

"Oh, I do alright." Chas examined a claw again. Rick chuckled.

"You do more than right Old Man! You know that better than all of us, so stop being modest and say thanks!" Rick wore a fierce canine grin.

Chas raised one sardonic eyebrow. "Thanks?" He intoned it with a thick British accent.

Rick waved his hands as he set a suitcase down and his guitar. "And now you're affecting a British accent? What gives?"

Here Chas looked genuinely embarrassed. His light french accent returned. "Um, my apologies. I've spent so much time abroad I tend to pick up accents quickly, and well, being back here on semi-home soil seems to have brought the old Brit in me...."

Rick ducked his head as Dal patted Chas on the shoulders. "Well, speak as you find Chas, we don't judge. I'm certain Rick was just on edge..."

Dal was giving Rick a thick equine smile, and a significant look.

"Um, yes, sorry. It isn't every day your mate is shot." Rick blushed finding the couch and sitting on it.

Chas sighed. "Yes, about that." He clicked on the news feed, the images and narrator told the tale:

**

"Widespread riots tonight here in London as Conductor and Composer Dalten Samuel Taylor Junior lead the London Symphony Orchestra in several pieces. We're lead to believe there was an assassination attempt on the composer musician as he conducted his own work"

The screen showed Dal getting hit by the bullet, the blood oozing down his back and to his pants. The screen then panned over to a large paint Equine who was firing shots randomly at the ceiling. Suddenly a large Mule brought two fists down on the horses head and the equine went motionless, being dragged out of the concert hall by the mule, and a very burly bear.

"The assassin, known as Sir Froederick Douglas has been arrested on charges of attempted murder. He has been a known proponent of blood purity, and a backer of such laws to the Final Govenments." The riots continue tonight, and most of London is on a lock down. Martial law has not yet been declared, but if these riots continue local government officials say it will only be a matter of time before....

**click**

Dal sighed. The next several weeks looked like they would be action packed. In reality they weren't. After the first attack, Dal and Rick found that each subsequent concert was more calm. It seemed as if the rioters had gotten tired and had left. By the end of the three weeks, Dalten was sorely tired. He'd used some of his power to keep the audience at ease during each concert, something that took a lot of energy, but he felt it worth it in the end.

**

"So what now?" Rick laid on Dal's chest smiling at the deep chestnut equine eyes staring down the long nose at him. Dal snorted causing Rick to close his nearest eye. "Ew, horse snot."

Dal flicked him in the ear. "Then don't lay so close!"

Rick chuckled rubbing his ear. "As you were saying?"

"Well I have a concert in Dublin, and one in Paris, after that is Moscow. I think things are going to go pretty much like they did here." Rick frowned but turned his blue eyes fully on Dal.

"Dal....I have an idea. It seems every time we're together in a concert, someone is trying to kill us, or at least try to get to us. I was wondering if it might be safer for me to stay here."

**

Dalten thought the concept through instead of reacting like he would have several months ago, negatively.

Huh. He has a point. When we're together we're a more tempting target. There was that one attempt to blow up the car the night after the first concert that was thwarted. It makes sense...."

Dal nodded. "Its a good idea love. It's not one I like, but it's practical. Also, you can work here, perform your works, get your face out there." Dalten found his hand idly scratching Rick's neck ruff as he did while thinking. The canine sighed. "That was my idea too."

Suddenly Dal felt a huge rush of lust through the bond. He could feel just what his scratching was doing to Rick.

"Uh....Rick....why didn't you tell me that was a sweet spot for you?" Dal was having trouble keeping himself in his sheath, so he didn't even try. His length slowly snaked it's way across his thigh. Rick laughed in his throat. "Because I was afraid you'd stop...."

Dal kept the scratching up as he bent over and locked his muzzle with Rick. Their tongues swirled around each other, not fighting, only playing. Soon Dal could see his own cock inches from his own muzzle over Rick's shoulder. Rick broke the kiss.

"Um...Dal?"

**

Dal smiled down at Rick. Rick felt the hardened equine member on his shoulder, which was quickly growing wet. "Um...that really isn't far from....ah....."

Dal grinned lustily at him. Rick blushed.

"Care to join me?"

Rick cocked his head confused for a second, until Dal lent down and took himself into his own muzzle. Rick quickly got the message and lapped his tongue at Dal's muzzle playfully, suddenly diving lower. He nibbled his teeth along Dal's sheath ridge bringing a lusty bass groan from the equine. Soon he found his nose buried deep against Dal's dappled balls.

**

_He was embarrassed to show me this!?_Rick felt the emotion course down his bond. Along with it came images, memories of doing this time after time. Alone in his room, bored in college, and lonely in his time before Rick. Rick realized that Dal had loved to do this to himself, but had been embarrassed that he could.

Rick sent a wave of love and intense lust up the bond, showing his mate how proud he was of him, even in this skill.

Dal couldn't take himself entirely, maybe only the first quarter, which left Rick with a lot left to work with. He concentrated on the medial ring and below, making certain to pay special attention to the inflated testicles that lay flat on the bed.

Once in a while Dal would pull off himself and kiss Rick, letting him taste his own thick pre. The canine would whine deeply at that. Even though his own member was throbbing and was getting no attention, he was getting more than enough stimulation through the bond.

Soon Rick could recognition the pace his mate had picked. He saw the equine cock-head flare against Dal's own muzzle and heard the grunt as the equine took his own first shot. A few dribbles leaked out.

Rick lapped with his long tongue at each drop that drizzled out of Dal's lips. He'd dive down again to the churning balls to nip at them, trying to force more of the load out. He felt his own knot expand painfully, his own hips bucking as he organized to the feelings along the bond. Soon the torrent of cum from both of them were over.

**

Rick panted beside Dal. "Why didn't you ever tell me you could...well....do that?"

Dal blushed. "Um...well....."

Rick slapped him in the balls lightly. Dal let out a lightly pained "whuff".

"We share got it? If you want to do that again, I will NOT mind!" Rick laid his muzzle on Dal's heaving chest, licking the remaining cum from his chops. Sharing the sensation and sweet and masculine taste down his link to Dal.

Dal caressed his face, those deep chestnut eyes boring into his. "I love you, so much." Rick melted. "And I you."

**