Zig Zag is Copyright © Max Black Rabbit. Sabrina, Darke Katt and R.C. are Copyright © Eric W. Schwartz. James Sheppard, Marvin Badger, Rhonda Badger, Yohni, Alexi, Michael, Esteban, Mia, Wanda Vixen and Tamara Rabbit are Copyright © James Bruner. Jean LeBrun, Francois LeBrun, Marie LeBrun, Gabrielle Ryder, Theodore Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg the Third, Roxanne Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Timothy Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Malcolm Grazer, Doctor Lupin, Doctor Fox Jones, William Pongo, Captain Archibald, Peter Spermophilus, Miranda Spermophilus, Leo Leon, Vincent Leon, Abu-Yusuf, Sergeant Otetiani, Lieutenant Black, Julie Black, Miriam Redtail, Lizzy Doe, Emma Grey, Rowena Spyke, Jeremy Mustela, William White, Hannah Vulpes, Richard Terry, Hantaywee Twofeathers, Professor Nutkin, Professor Moose Nicholson, Professor Werner Schnauzer, Professor Erica Belge, Charles 'Mouse' Mombay, Ulf Søndergård, Paul Donkey, Harley Davidson (Not the motorcycle manufacturer, obviously) and Pethouse Magazine is © Joan Jacobsen, 2005. 

Legal Notice: This story is Copyright © 2005 by Joan Jacobsen. This story may not be sold or used for commercial profit in any form or fashion. This story may not be modified in any way. This story may not be posted on a mirror site or any other Internet site without the written permission of the author. This story may not be distributed on print, magnetic, electrical or optical mediums.  

Permission to use characters that are Copyright other individuals was obtained prior to the appearance of said characters.  

The author, Joan Jacobsen, hereby asserts moral right to be identified as the author of this work. 

This is an independent work of fiction with no connection whatsoever to Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions or James Bruner and is in no way meant to imply any connection with Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions, or James Bruner. This story contains characters created by Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, James Bruner, Tigermark and Silver Coyote. Events and characters occurring in this story should not be considered part of the storylines for either 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online' or 'Sabrina Online - The Story'.  

In fact, as far as 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online', 'Sabrina Online - The Story' and 'Zig Zag the Story' are concerned, this story does not exist. The artists disavow any knowledge of and do not officially sanction the events in this story. 

Rights 

"Give it up, agent Grochy...he isn't speaking," agent Manchilla said, leaning back and lighting a cigarette. 

The Dalmatian growled and snatched the cigarette out of his partner's mouth, leaning down over the table, staring at Malcolm. The equine hadn't said a word. He didn't look defiant, this time. If anything, he looked bored. Agent Grochy didn't approve of bored prisoners. He held the glowing cancer-stick between two fingers and let it brush perilously close to Malcolm's muzzle, sneering angrily. 

"If he didn't have anything to hide, he'd sing like a bird. I swear, he's hiding something." 

Agent Manchilla shrugged. He was getting slightly tired of this. They had tried asking politely, luring, threatening...all that remained was begging and neither he nor Grochy was prepared to do that. They had to remain in control of the interrogation after all. However, this particular equine didn't seem willing to say a word.  

"Just give it up and put him back in the pen, all right? We've got more prisoners to interrogate today. You're wasting time with this one." 

Agent Grochy spun around to answer his partner. His sudden move meant he planted the cigarette firmly against the side of Malcolm's face. The equine groaned in pain and grit his teeth. There was hatred in his eyes as he recovered, shaking from the burn.  

"What?" agent Grochy asked indifferently. "Are you expecting an apology? Forget it!" 

Agent Manchilla shook his head. "Agent Grochy, I'm going to have to ask you to leave this room," he said and got to his feet. He looked shaken. "Now." 

"You're pulling rank on me? You need to actually outrank me first!" the Dalmatian spat.  

"If you don't leave this room this instant, I am going to have to report that you just used a well known method of torture to get a prisoner to speak. Leave...before you do something that'll cost you your badge," the feline said, sharply. "I am telling you this as your partner and your friend. You're out of control!" 

Malcolm raised a paw to his jaw and gently prodded the fresh burn. Fortunately it was in a place that didn't show. A scarred face wasn't very good when one made one's living on the stage. It stung, though. Terribly. Hot and cold flashes ran down his spine. His fur was burnt in the area just around the small wound. It was already starting to leak. Moreover, he was confused. Agent Manchilla hadn't played the 'good cop' routine until now and this didn't seem to be one of those moments, either. If it was, the feline was extremely good at it, at least. 

Agent Grochy bit back something and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, storming out. 

Agent Manchilla sat back down and looked at Malcolm. He waited until he heard the door close behind him, before speaking up again: "I'm not going to ask you to answer. I know you won't," he said and folded his paws on the table. "But I do wonder if you are fully aware of what has happened? Simply shake your head if you don't know. I'll fill you in." 

Malcolm narrowed his eyes and looked at the federal agent across the table. He didn't know if this was some trick but the situation was in a deadlock anyway...and at least this was a new approach. He was still resolved not to answer questions about himself until he had legal representation. 

"I'd rather if you would answer a couple of questions for me first, to clear up why I am here?" he said. 

Agent Manchilla nodded, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. "Very well...I don't suppose that'll do any harm. I am not at liberty to answer certain questions but...do ask," he said. Those were the first words he had heard the equine speak and he realized he had better play along if he wanted this opening to lead to something. 

"What am I being accused of?" Malcolm asked. 

"If you were accused, you'd be awaiting trial. You're being investigated for possible involvement on the attacks on Pentagon and the World Trade Center, as well as the crash in Pennsylvania," the leopard answered.

"Ahh, I see. And this investigation involves burning my face with cigarettes?" 

"No. And I assure you, he won't get away with that." 

Malcolm chuckled. "If you don't mind my saying so, agent Manchilla, the reassurances of the FBI is worth very, very little to me right now." 

Agent Manchilla nodded. He could see the equine's point. "Any other questions?" 

"When am I going to be allowed to see a lawyer, and when will my rights actually be read to me?" Malcolm asked, folding his arms over his chest. He watched the leopard's face carefully, as he asked. He wanted to gauge the feline's reaction. 

"This isn't a normal interrogation session, Mr. Grazer. This country is at war..." agent Manchilla tried. 

Malcolm didn't let him finish. He simply looked directly at the agent and narrowed his eyes. "Was I taken prisoner in combat?" 

"No?" 

"Was I wearing a uniform, when arrested?" 

"Erhh...no?" 

"Am I considered an official Prisoner of War? If so, I will invoke the rights of the Geneva convention and give you only my name, rank and number and since I have no rank, no number and since you already have my name...I'd be happy if you'd stop this charade..." 

Agent Manchilla sighed heavily. Despite agent Grochy's best attempts, this equine wasn't breaking. He wasn't even nervous. If anything he was offended and the leopard had to admit...it was justifiable. If he had been on the opposite side of the table, being the one interrogated, he'd have been just as angry. Or he'd have broken. He couldn't help admiring the equine. 

"Give me something," he asked, finally resorting to begging. "Anything...to appease my superiors, anything at all that can convince them that you're not involved in this whole thing, and I'll see to it that you get a lawyer before the next interrogation."

Malcolm smiled. He'd won and he knew it. Slowly, he nodded and leaned forwards, putting his elbows on the table and folding his paws, returning to that indifferent expression. "So...basically, your superiors think I am some Islamic fundamentalist, yes?" 

"That's...at least their general idea, yes," the agent responded. 

Malcolm nodded and brought a paw to massage the burn wound. It stung again. Then he crossed his arms on the table and smiled crookedly. The same kind of smile he knew would knock the legs away under Timothy in a split second. 

"You have a nice tail, Agent Manchilla...and a good, tight ass. Very attractive," he said, letting each word come slowly, but not too slowly to make an impact. 

Agent Manchilla squinted. That was certainly not what he had expected. Again, he couldn't help feeling a good deal of respect for Malcolm. The equine had just committed what fundamentalists of any denomination would consider a mortal sin. He'd played his trump, and he hadn't given the FBI anything they could use. 

"I see...so the young male we met in the door is your...?"  

"Yes." 

"Ah." 

"Can I go now?" Malcolm asked and leaned back again and rubbed the side of his face.  

Agent Manchilla tried to keep a straight face but couldn't. A grin spread on his features and he shook his head. Not in denial but as a clear gesture of defeat. He knew he'd been topped. His body language showed the same thing, and he chuckled lightly. 

"I don't think you're going to have to wait that much longer. We'll get you legal representation and then it's just a matter of formalities. I think you'll be back home in maybe three or four hours," he said and got up. "Off the record, mind if I ask a question?" 

Malcolm rose as well and shrugged. "Go ahead..." 

"Why didn't you tell us you're homosexual? You could've been out of here in an hour after we checked up on that...?" the leopard asked. 

"And just how would you do that? Ask for my home videos? No, don't answer. In any case, my real reason for not saying that just burnt my face with a cigarette. How do you think he would've reacted?" the equine responded, wincing as a particularly nasty shot of hot and cold flashes ran from his jaw down his spine.

"I see your point. You know...if you want to press charges for that, agent Grochy's days in the bureau would be numbered, even if he's acquitted. At the most he'd get a desk job in some regional office," agent Manchilla said. He wasn't heading for the door to open it yet. He wanted Malcolm's answer to that first. 

Malcolm shrugged. "How long has he been your partner?" 

"Five years." 

"Has he ever done anything like this before?" 

Agent Manchilla shook his head. "Never. I think these attacks have hit him so hard he's temporarily lost his objectivity." 

"I see..." Malcolm asked. "Do you have any way of getting him off this investigation without me going to court with it?"  

Agent Manchilla laughed softly. "I doubt that'll be a problem. This room is under video surveillance. He went so far over the line today that I think he's already talking to our department head, at this moment. I doubt he's going to be doing any field work until this investigation is entirely concluded." 

Malcolm nodded. "Then I'll make sure my lawyer doesn't know where that wound comes from. We're all Americans, here...I don't want to make a fortune on our country's misery," he said and gestured towards the door. 

The leopard blinked...then opened the door. "We've made a mistake with you, Mr. Grazer. Don't expect an official apology...the Bureau doesn't do that. But as for myself...I'm sorry about all this." 

Malcolm smiled and headed out the door to go back to the holding pen. "That's good enough for me." 

###

Jeremy put down the phone. It had been a surprising call. He hadn't heard from Emma's friends since the party. Now, Leo had called and asked if he wanted to come on a fishing trip with him and Esteban. It was something Emma had told him about...how the males would go on these trips to bond. They never seemed to catch a lot of fish, but they did seem to drink a lot of beer. And they did seem to laugh a lot. 

It'd be fun. He sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee. Fun was good, these days. There wasn't much to be had anywhere, after the bombings. Some of his friends were talking about joining the army. He personally had no plans to do that. Not that he was afraid, he told himself. Not at all. What was there to be afraid of? No, there were simply plenty of young males who were joining up, and someone had to help keep the wheels turning at home too.  

He sipped his coffee and shrugged. Besides, he had Emma to take care of now, he reminded himself. 

She couldn't be expected to take care of herself, and what would she react like if she got news that he'd been shot down somewhere in a distant country? No, better to stay where he was. He didn't like hitting her. He felt awful every time he'd done it but...she was so clumsy sometimes. Or when she'd start talking about her time at university...she'd totally forget that he really didn't care about what she'd studied. So he lost his temper, sometimes. And hit her. It was wrong, he knew it, but she shouldn't provoke it either. Sometimes, he wondered if she did it on purpose. 

He sighed. Well, at least her friends wanted to see him again. That was always something. 

It'd be fun. 

###

"Jean, do you have time to talk?" 

The voice called out down the hallway and Jean stopped. She turned around and nodded. It was a well known voice at least, and one she would always find time for.  

Moose Nicholson came up to her, looking slightly disheveled. That in itself was unusual, but these were unusual days. He smiled apologetically and scratched his hair, adjusting his glasses.  

"I know you're on your way to class. I simply wanted to make sure you're all right," he said, warmly.  

Jean smiled. Her mentor's concern was heartwarming. She had to admit she didn't exactly get the best first week in her job, but no one could rightfully blame her for that. She nodded and put her briefcase down next to her. 

"I'm okay. Thank you for asking though. How about yourself? You look like you could use another hour of sleep, at the very least," she asked. 

"I could," Professor Nicholson replied, honestly. "I could use several days worth of sleep. I have family in New York..." 

Jean swallowed. "I hope they're all okay," she said, meekly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know..." 

Professor Nicholson chuckled. "You know...it's funny. Everyone says almost that very same thing. There are fifteen million souls living in New York City. The chances of anyone we know being directly affected are minute...and yet...everyone takes this as a personal attack, on themselves, on their friends...their family. My own family is all right. Nothing happened to them, they weren't even near the place." 

Jean nodded slowly. "Well...maybe everyone sees it as a personal attack...because it is? It attacked something essential to all of us. Not the Twin Towers...not Pentagon. It attacked our integrity and our feeling of security most importantly," she said and looked up at the male. 

Moose Nicholson smiled again, patting his protégé's shoulder, "You have such an analytical mind. You have such a strange mixture under that ashen hair of yours, Jean. Sometimes, you hear something on the radio or on TV, and you get carried away by it...but as soon as it's something you read, as part of your work, you digest it, dissect it and you go deeper than any other student I've had."

The vixen blushed and cleared her throat. "Well, I'd think in this case it was pretty obvious, Moose?" 

"Ah yes...the obvious," the old professor chuckled. "The obvious...the one thing that constantly eludes most furs," he said and winked. "Good luck at teaching today. You've probably got to start over, but you're up to the challenge."

"Thank you. I'm sure I'll manage," Jean said and picked up her briefcase again. "I'd better get there though, before the students start asking themselves if they came in a day early." 

Moose Nicholson nodded and let the vixen go with another smile. He turned and headed off, probably to a lecture of his own, Jean thought. She wasn't quite sure yet when the other teachers taught their various classes. 

The other teachers. 

She liked the sound of that. Sure she was still a student but she had teaching responsibilities as well. The mere thought made her heart skip a beat. Straightening up, she put a smile on her face and straightened down her skirt with her free paw. Then she set off towards the lecture hall.  

It was strange walking these halls but not being one of the students. She reached out and ran her fingertips over the wall as she walked...just to make sure it was really there. When she had started, the very first day...there had been all kinds of problems. That was more than five years back. Five long, eventful years. She had been so terribly young when she started. So young and so awfully insecure. Wanting to hide anytime anyone looked at her. At first, she didn't get any looks...then she got a lot of them. Then the looks turned into stares. Even glares. 

All after her little secret was leaked by some careless secretary... 

She stopped. Looked around again. 

The memories were so vivid. How she'd slink along the hallways, pressing herself against the walls, afraid of the other students. Hearing whispers everywhere, even where they weren't. She'd think everyone laughing behind her was laughing at her, even if it might've been at something completely different. It would be difficult to breathe at times. Difficult to think. It was almost like she could see it again. The ghosts of the past walking along to their classes. Long gone.

There would be Miriam Redtail...Emma Grey...Lizzy Doe...her three best friends at Uni, after they finally did start talking. It had taken too long, but better late than never, the vixen thought. She could almost hear them, laughing at some joke as they walked along. There were other furs there, too. Furs she didn't like thinking about. Some of them, she never even learned the names of. Nor did she want to. 

The ghosts of the furs that had attacked her passed her by. She simply smiled. They were gone. One of them was dead. One had moved far away and the last one she occasionally saw passing through the park to Campus. He'd gotten a job picking up trash in the park. While the fur they had attacked taught at the very university they had tried to drive her away from. It was poetic justice, and Jean wasn't above reveling in it. Chuckling to herself, she removed her paw from the wall and headed to class.  

###

Zig Zag looked around the studio. Everyone had arrived, and the spirits were generally as high as could be expected. Esteban had the camera ready and gave her a thumbs up to let her know he was all set. The actors were in costume...or out of it as it may be. Marvin was in his seat. Everything was set to start filming again. A sense of relief came over the skunk, for some strange reason. She didn't know why, but she did feel better, now that things were ready to roll again. Normality was never a word that could be associated with ZZ Studios, but she did look forward to returning to what passed for normality around there. She cleared her voice and held up a paw to get everyone's attention.

"Everyone, listen up please..." she said and waited for the general commotion to cease. "I'm glad to see everyone here. For the record, I know we've all been affected by what's happened this past week, but we still have a job to do here." 

Esteban grinned widely. "Jefa, eet ees not unreasonable to say that no seengle companee een the United States has done as much for morale een the US armee as ZZ Studeeos. Eef we're goeeng to war, eet ees out patreeoteec dutee to get back to work." 

Zig Zag looked at the wolf, trying very, very hard to keep a straight face. It wasn't easy but while Esteban's comment had been humorous, it was also largely true. She managed to retain enough control not to start laughing and her voice was mostly steady after she'd cleared her throat again. 

"Esteban, you're Mexican." 

"Amereecan by eengesteeon?" the wolf tried, flopping one ear, canting his head a bit and looking his absolute cutest. 

"Your wife to be is French," Zig Zag pointed out, finding it terribly difficult not to walk over and scratch Esteban's mane. "And stop looking like that. It's unfair. Reserve it for Jean, will you?" 

The wolf winked. "Now who's mind ees een the gutter, Jefa? I was theenkeeng of all the Amereecan junk food I've had seence moveeng here." 

Zig Zag gave up. She put her face in her paws and allowed herself a good laugh. It didn't happen all that often that someone at the studio managed to one-up her, and when it did happen it was usually Gabrielle's doing.  

"Okay...if you're all done having fun at my expense..." she said after recovering, putting her face back in as serious folds as was possible "...I think we should get to work. Is everything..."

She stopped as the door opened. Sabrina peeked in. Zig Zag blinked. For Sabrina to actually look into one of the studios while there was a chance to see something indecent was extremely rare. It only happened when something really couldn't wait until later. As was to be expected, Sabrina didn't look comfortable.  

"Don't worry, we haven't actually started filming yet..." Zig Zag said, reassuringly.  

"I still see plenty of naked furs. Anyway...there's a call for you that I really think you have to deal with right away. It's...somewhat unusual," Sabrina said, closing the door again as she left. 

Zig Zag blinked and looked at Marvin. "I guess I do need to. Well, she always acts weird around naked actors. Can you handle things here while I go find out what this...mysterious phone-call is all about?" 

Marvin nodded and smiled. He hadn't said much all morning but Zig Zag knew her friend well enough to realize that when he needed to talk about it, he'd say so himself.  

"Yeah...sure, no problem. You go and deal with this caller..." 

Reaching out to give the badger's shoulder a squeeze, Zig Zag nodded. Marvin didn't sound like he was quite there. She had no doubt he'd do his job and do it well, but it'd probably take some time before 'good old Marvin' was back, threatening to tackle everyone. He seemed shell-shocked, for lack of a better word. She wanted to reassure him, somehow. Let him know that no matter how awful things were now, somehow they would work out, but she couldn't. How could she know that was the truth, anymore?  

She pushed the thought aside and headed out to take whatever call Sabrina had waiting for her. 

###

It was early afternoon in Copenhagen. It was still warm, despite being mid September and Yohni was coming to really like the city. It wasn't like an American major city she'd ever visited. Besides, with it's just over one million inhabitants, it'd barely qualify for the term in the United States. It certainly covered enough area, though, but that had more to do with the way the place was built than anything else. There were many beautiful areas...places she liked going to. Not just the parks but in general. The long, wide shopping district where no cars would come was constantly buzzing with activity and for an inveterate shopper like the mongoose, that was almost like handing her a slice of heaven. 

Ulf had the day off. Neither Gabrielle nor Yohni had still quite figured out what exact position he had at the office where he worked but he did seem to have plenty of something he called 'afspadseringstimer'. Gabrielle had tried to pronounce it...without any luck. It had brought them all a good laugh though. What it meant, Ulf explained, was that according to the law and the rules set down by both the employers and workers unions, there was a finite number of hours that any fur was allowed to work within a given period of time. To avoid exploitation, apparently. With his three week trip to New York, he had a lot of extra time, banked...and while he'd normally choose to get paid for those hours, in this case he had to simply take some days off.  

He did so gladly, he said. It gave him a chance to spend some time with his guests and Signe.  

At the moment, they were standing in front of a strange looking, round tower. There were fruit vendors surrounding it, but the tower itself was very old. Right in the middle of the shopping district, too.  

"So...this was supposedly an observatory?" Gabrielle asked.  

"That's true. The fun thing is, though...if you look through the double doors there..." the canid answered. 

Yohni walked up to the doors and peeked in. "Hey...someone forgot to make steps on the stairs...it's just a rotating slope. What's up with this?" she asked. 

"Well, allegedly, a foreign, royal visitor wanted to go to the top but he couldn't be bothered to walk up there so they removed the stairs so he could drive his carriage all the way up," Signe explained and slipped her arm under her Ulf's. "The view from up there is fantastic though." 

Gabrielle nodded. "Well, let's go up and have a look then." 

She entered and started up the slope. It was nice to have a couple of locals along as guides. Ulf had arranged for them to go on a trip to some of the sights outside Copenhagen the next couple of days. All in all, both he and Signe were doing their best to keep their guests occupied and content. They had heard that morning, on the news, that air-traffic would be back to normal within a few days, and she and Yohni had talked about what to do then. 

They both loved the city. They both very much enjoyed the company of their new friends. But they didn't want to overstay their welcome, and they certainly wanted to see more of Europe than just one corner.  

The decision had been made to move on to Germany on Friday, provided they could catch a plane of course. There would no doubt be heavy security measures and a lot more thorough checks of luggage and such. It was necessary, of course, with what had happened. Both she and Yohni agreed on that. What concerned the filly the most was that Yohni didn't like flying already. They hadn't told Ulf and Signe about their plans yet, either. There hadn't been a chance to do so. 

She exited the spiraling slope and looked around the platform at the top of the tower. There were binoculars where, for a modest fee, visitors and tourists could watch Copenhagen for a few minutes. Or one could simply enjoy the view as it was. It was a clear day. Bright and beautiful, with a sunny sky above. There was no need for binoculars. 

"Look over there," Ulf said and pointed. His finger indicated a strip of land across the water, off the harbor. "Sweden. We can see right across on a reasonably sunny day." 

Yohni grinned and looked out over the city. "You know, Gabby...I'm starting to see what you mean about retiring to this place, eventually. Look at this view! Not much of a skyline but...this is a beautiful city." 

Gabrielle chuckled and nodded. Now would be as good a time as any to tell Ulf and Signe about hers and Yohni's plans to move on. "I told you. I like it here, a lot. Anyway...Ulf...if you have a moment?" 

"Sure," the canid said and smiled, slipping an arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. "What's up?" 

"Yohni and I were talking last night. We are planning to continue on to Berlin...this Friday." 

"Ahhh...I see. Well, I'm sure I speak for the both of us when I say it's been a pleasure to have you with us...even if terrible circumstances caused us to get more time together than had been planned." 

Gabrielle nodded and leaned on the railing, looking out over the roofs of Copenhagen. "If all Danes are anything like you two...this is a remarkable little country," she said, thoughtfully. 

"Hey, I'm not a Dane," Signe protested, good-naturedly. "I'm from Greenland. But you know, this place has as many bastards as anywhere else in the world. We're no better, really." 

The filly giggled and nodded. "All right, I'm sure the grass always does look greener on the other side of the fence. I've just enjoyed it here. A lot. Anyway...we'll try to catch a plane on Friday, and we'd both like to make Thursday evening one to remember. So...we were thinking of going out? Getting dinner at a nice place?" 

"You know...if you're going to Berlin I know a way that'll save you a lot of hassle..." Ulf said, thoughtfully. "Plus it's cheaper..." 

Yohni looked over, canting her head slightly. "Save us some hassle at the airport you mean? I'm sure it's for the best..." 

"No, I mean..." Ulf said and gestured with one paw "...you can avoid the airport altogether. If you catch a night train from Copenhagen, going down south...there's a ferry going over, to Germany, from a small town called Rødby...Gabrielle, don't try to pronounce it..." 

The filly snapped her fingers and grinned. 

Signe nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, that's a good idea. They could go over to Putgarden and catch the train in Germany and be in Berlin by noon. And it'll only cost you a fraction of the money, and with all the extra security in the airport I'm pretty sure you'll only lose an hour or two at most...if that much. That's a great idea, Ulf. We can drive them to Rødby, as well?" 

"Of course. That was my plan," the male said and winked. 

Gabrielle looked at her girlfriend. The mongoose looked very relieved at the thought of not having to get up in an airplane again anytime soon. Then she looked back to her hosts and nodded. "Thank you. We'll do it that way then. We're planning on spending a week in Berlin...then skip Amsterdam and go to Paris for a week or two. And then on to Rome. We modified our plans...we had to, after all." 

"So no Milan for you?" Ulf asked, grinning crookedly. "I remember you said you wanted to visit all the fashion centers." 

"Actually, that was you pointing it out," Gabrielle corrected. "But yeah, we dropped Milan. Rome is a place we both want to see though..." 

Signe giggled. "I can see why. You'd want to visit the real place after making that movie." 

Gabrielle nodded. She turned and leaned on the railing again, looking back across the roofs of Copenhagen. She was smiling. There were worse places to be stranded in for a few weeks... 

At least, she had liked it there. 

###

"So...we're in agreement about this?" William White asked and looked at each of the two other furs in the room.  

He got only nods in return.  

"Good," he said. "We'll all learn more this way. When do we meet next time?" 

"Wheeeen shall we three meet again...in thunder, storm or in rain...?" Hantaywee screeched, doing a passable imitation of a hag. 

"Very funny. Shakespeare would do a summersault in his grave," Richard chuckled. "You're right though, Will...it'll be good for all of us. We'll be able to help each other with whatever classes we're individually weak at." 

Hantaywee reached out and ruffled the terrier's hair. "That means all of them in your case, shortstuff?"  

Richard deflated, but couldn't help grinning. "That's no fair. I'm doing really well in some classes at least." 

The puma nodded and smiled crookedly. "I know. I'm just teasing you. So...apart from reading together, we're also going to do a paper together?" 

Both Richard and William nodded. The question they hadn't decided on yet was what to write about. They knew they needed a fourth member to do that, as well.  

"Well, I have critical thinking classes with someone we might want to include?" William said. "I mean, she's only minoring in history, but then, so am I. And you two are majoring. I'm just thinking we'd get more angles that way?" 

Richard nodded, looking at Hantaywee. "I think that makes sense really. How about you?" 

"Sounds like a good idea then. What's she majoring in?" 

"Sociology," William answered. "So we'd have two history majors, a political science major and a sociology major. I can see something interesting coming of that. The question would be what to write about..." 

Hantaywee folded her legs under her and leaned forward slightly. "All I'm saying is that I'd be grateful if we could incorporate Native American history in this, somehow."

Richard laughed. He put aside his pen and paper and turned to look at the puma next to him. "Somehow, I think that's a given."

William got up and headed to the kitchen. He got a tray and arranged a few mugs on it. He had a modest apartment not far from campus, like many students. It wasn't much, but it was home. Just a bedroom, a tiny kitchen and something resembling a living room. It was bigger than what many had, but he was fortunate enough to have a good scholarship. He could afford it, at least. It was close enough to campus that he never had far to classes or the library, and far enough away that he didn't feel like he lived his entire life at university.  

He knew Hantaywee. They had started talking already on his first day. At first he had thought she was some washed up Native American wannabee, until he had spoken to her. Thirty seconds into the conversation he realized he was dealing with the real deal. They'd made good friends, fast, and she was largely the reason why he had chosen to minor in history. Theirs was the kind of friendship that never hinted at being anything else, and he enjoyed that. When he suggested to her that they should read together, she had not only accepted, but suggested that she bring Richard Terry along. Apparently, she'd been told to keep an eye on the terrier. So far, that had turned out to be a good idea. Richard was a fun fur...good sense of humor and plenty of snappy comebacks. He'd be good to have around, to avoid everything bogging down in heavy book-learning.  

Besides, Hantaywee had said Richard had problems with a few classes and the mink didn't mind helping out. 

He brought the tray with mugs and coffee back to the two others and sat down again. "Anyway, the femme I was thinking about is Hannah Vulpes. Either of you heard of her?" 

Hantaywee shook her head. Richard pondered a while. "Wait...isn't she the one who stuck her foot in her mouth in Miss LeBrun's Tuesday class, just before the news of...of...you know? Anyway, that'll be fitting. I did more or less the same the day before, myself." 

"That's her," William nodded and poured the coffee. "She's feeling pretty bad about having done it too. She's not a prejudiced fur." 

"Good. I'd have a problem then," Hantaywee chuckled and took a mug. "Is she any good?" 

"She's keen, that's for sure. Shall I ask her if she's interested?" 

Richard nodded and took a mug, too. "Yep. I think that sounds like a plan. Anyway, unless she's got a bigger place, we're probably going to have to use your apartment, Will. I live in a shoebox and I've seen Hantaywee's place. It's so small you need a sledgehammer to get more than two furs in there. And even then, you'd have to bring a crowbar to get them out afterwards." 

William laughed and nodded. He sipped his coffee and nursed the mug between his paws. "I think that's okay. Anyway...either of you have any good ideas for how we can incorporate political science, sociology and history in the same paper, preferably including Native American history? It'd be nice to have some ideas to present to Hannah." 

Hantaywee looked like she drew a blank. Those were three fairly closely related courses, but there were still major differences.  

Richard scratched his neck. "It's just an idea, but...how about a critical look at the early attempts at converting the Native American population to Christianity? You'd have the politics of the church, the social clash of a tribal society with a structured European culture and the history because...well...it happened hundreds of years ago?" 

Hantaywee slowly turned her head and looked at the terrier, wide-eyed. "You didn't think thirty seconds before you came up with that. I'm impressed!!" 

"I told you...I'm not bad at everything," the canid replied.

"Sounds like a plan then..." William grinned. "It may still change but I think it sounds interesting. I'll talk to Hannah tomorrow after class..." 

Both Richard and Hantaywee nodded.  

All that remained was to enjoy their coffee. There was no more work to be done that day. 

###

Leo put his feet up on the table. Everything was in place. 

The fishing trip was all planned. They'd go not the upcoming weekend, but the following one. He'd made sure that Jeremy was told, he'd informed Esteban of his plans...all that remained was to let Lizzy know. 

She wasn't home yet.  

Today was the day she had her job interview at the consulate and Leo really hoped she'd get it. It would make everything easier for the both of them, financially, but more importantly than that...it would be good for Lizzy to feel she was doing something meaningful. Financially speaking, he knew that while he had told his parents that he wanted to make do on his own, they'd support him and help if things got really bad. As it was, they weren't bad, just slightly tight. 

If Lizzy got the job in question, she'd bring home enough to keep them well in the green.  

The lion ran his paws over his mane, pulling it back in his usual, tight ponytail. He sighed. Leaned his head back and closed his eyes. However much he tried to think of something else, he couldn't shake the thought of what he and Esteban were about to do. He was a peaceful fur...the one time in his life where he had taken part in anything violent had been the events on the Cayfur Islands two years earlier that had eventually led him to meet the whole Ohio crowd. He'd helped Miranda Spermophilus hunt down a dangerous poisoner, which in turn had helped save Gabrielle Ryder from a very unpleasant fate. It felt good to know he'd made a difference, but he was certainly not a violent fur by any definition of the word. He hated the idea of hitting someone.  

He hated the idea of someone hitting his friends, even more. 

The image of the bruised, terrified Emma, joining the party, returned to him. He had been so stupid. It had been so obvious. The way Jeremy had mostly answered for her all evening. The way she'd been reluctant to talk about her 'accident'. Everything. Fox Jones had apparently had his suspicions already that night. His questions to Emma indicated it, at least. His offer to talk to the mink if she needed it.  

It had all been so subtle and it had gone right over his head. He was ashamed of himself for it. He knew Emma. He really liked her. She was one of the best friends one could have. Trustworthy, dutiful and always there when you needed her. She was trying to grow some self esteem when he had first met her and she'd come a long, long way. Then...she had met Jeremy. Now the lion wondered how much damage that relationship had done to Emma's psyche.

Somehow, Jeremy had to be stopped before the situation was irreversible. He had to be made aware that he wasn't to go anywhere near Emma again...not look at her, not speak to her...nothing.  

In two weeks time, that's what he'd make sure of...with Esteban's help. He knew exactly how it'd be done too.  

Jeremy wouldn't know what was coming to him until it was too late. 

He cracked his knuckles and set his jaw, just as he heard someone turn the key in the front door. He got to his feet and put on his biggest, brightest smile. If Lizzy had landed the job, it was fitting...if she hadn't, he needed to cheer her up anyway. 

A moment later, he was bowled over on the couch by his girlfriend.  

It took a moment before he recovered enough to look at her and smile. "I take it this means good news?" 

Lizzy beamed and nodded, before kissing the lion. 

All Leo's worries faded away in that kiss. All that mattered in that moment was the doe in his arms.