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. Alex O'Whitt is © Tigermark. The B-Team is © Silver Coyote. Jean LeBrun, Gabrielle Ryder, Timothy Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Malcolm Grazer, Doctor Fox Jones, Peter Spermophilus, Miranda Spermophilus, Dina Spermophilus, Leo Leon, Miriam Redtail, Lizzy Doe, Emma Grey, Professor Moose Nicholson, Professor Erica Belge and Pethouse Magazine is © Joan Jacobsen, 2005. All other characters appearing in this story, except where otherwise specifically noted, are likewise © Joan Jacobsen.

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.er nodded. "I'm sure."

Sweet home, Ohio

Jean opened the door to the lecture hall. She had a strange feeling in her stomach, not unlike the first time she taught. By now, she had a couple of months practice and she didn't feel nervous before each class, but for some reason, she suddenly had a whole colony of butterflies trying to escape her stomach.

For a moment, she stopped, as if trying to figure out why. Then she smiled. She had thought about the day before...and the hug. Not just any hug, but the hug.

The one her mother had given her.

So why was it affecting her like this...going into class?

She didn't know, but it wasn't a bad feeling. Instead of worrying, she put on a smile for the students and placed her papers on the desk. She picked up a piece of chalk and flicked it over in her paw, looking at the assembled students.

"Well well...seems some kind of bug has hit campus. We're missing quite a few faces today," she said and raised an eyebrow.

There was some uncomfortable shuffling of feet and clearing of throats around the room. Jean frowned. Whatever was going on, it quickly dawned on her it wasn't going to be pleasant. She put the chalk down and leaned against the edge of the desk, looking quietly...even expectantly...at the furs in the room. She wasn't going to start asking questions. They'd have to be the ones who volunteered the information.

None of them seemed too willing.

Jean rolled her eyes and shook her head after a long moment of uncomfortable silence. "Very well, if no one will tell me what is going on, I suggest we get started on today's work. Otherwise we'll still be here when they shut the front doors tonight," she mumbled and picked up her papers again.

There was some more shuffling along the rows as students found their paperwork.

"Right...where were we?" the vixen began and cleared her throat. "I believe we were about to get started on the use and validity of photographs as source material..."

There were no protests. Just the sound of books being opened.

Jean was about to ask an opening question, when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in, we haven't really started yet," Jean called out and turned to face the door.

It opened. Mrs. Belge came in, looking annoyed and a little distraught. She walked directly up to Jean, whispering that she would like to talk to her outside.

The vixen nodded. At least she couldn't imagine another terrorist attack. She looked around the class, then back to Mrs. Belge and nodded, following the rabbit out of the room.

Once the door had closed behind them, Jean stopped. "Do you have any idea what's going on here today?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I do. Before we start, I want you to know that you're in no kind of trouble and that the faculty backs you up all the way. But it seems that a group of students have taken such offense to you teaching, because of your...particular situation...that they are organizing a protest. They won't be following your classes anymore, and they have made me aware that they intend to collect...as they put it...'enough signatures to get you fired'," Mrs. Belge said. She looked like the entire idea made her nauseous with anger.

Something unexpected happened in Jean's head. Given her past history, she would have thought she would have gotten upset. Possibly to the point of crying. She would normally have started apologizing and finding all kinds of excuses for Mrs. Belge to get rid of her in a reasonably dignified way. At the very least, she would have felt awful for weeks, avoiding her own reflection in the mirror again. No doubt, Esteban would've ended up thinking he'd done something wrong, too. All in all, it would normally be the kind of message that could totally ruin the next two or three months of her life.

Instead, she began to chuckle. She couldn't help herself. It bubbled up from the pit of her stomach and she began laughing. Not in desperation or because "it was better to laugh than cry"...but because she honestly found the situation hilarious.

"Don't worry, Jean..." Mrs. Belge said and patted the younger femme's shoulder in a motherly kind of way. "We're all behind you. You're a good lecturer and the students..."

Jean giggled and shook her head to show her boss she wasn't upset. "It's okay. Honestly. Good God, don't they know that there are at least a dozen court-decisions backing me up, by saying that the kind of discrimination that they are in favor of is illegal?"

Mrs. Belge looked relieved. "Honestly, I don't think they care one way or another...there were three of them in my office this morning. Only one of them tried to make sense...in a really backwards kind of way. The other two kept making references to the Bible."

Again, Jean broke down in giggles and hid her face as her shoulders started to shake. "You're kidding, right? Please, tell me you're joking. I've read the bible enough times to feel pretty sure there's not a single reference to transsexuals in there."

"Nahh, but they were pretty insistent on quoting the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, not to mention Mosaic law and naturally, the all time favorite, Paul's letter to the Romans..." the rabbit chuckled.

Jean shook her head again and smiled crookedly. Her voice was amused when she spoke up again: "Paul should've been placed up against a wall with a cigarette between his lips, and shot down for all the evil that bloody letter has caused," Jean chuckled and shook her head. "Christian fundamentalists. Bleh...isn't it ironic that this country is now at war with religious fundamentalists in Afghanistan...and yet, nearly fifty percent of our own population believes that the constitution should be changed so that the division of state and religion is removed?"

Mrs. Belge rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, please...let's reintroduce the crusades, the witch-crazes and the torture-chambers of the Middle Ages while we're at it, why don't we?" she muttered. "Anyway...I'm glad to see you're taking it this way. Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine. I'll talk to the class in a moment, about this. What will you do about the protesters, incidentally?"

"That depends on how they go about it. If they set up some kind of stall on campus, asking for signatures...they'll be in trouble. That's against regulations, pure and simple. What I can tell you is that even if they turn up with every single history-student's signature, I'll take a look at it, then smile as I tear it up and dump it in the wastebasket," Mrs. Belge grinned and shrugged. She scratched at the base of her right ear and looked at the vixen with a firm look on her face. "The point, Jean, is that I am obligated to look at such protests. I am in no way obligated to act on them. They are here by their own choice. If they don't like the teaching staff, they are free to seek tuition elsewhere. This is still a free country, despite what they're trying to do to it."

Jean nodded and smiled. "Thank you," she said, before she headed back into the lecture-hall. She walked back up to her table and picked up her paperwork again, pondering a moment.

"Very well..." she said and looked up. The students looked either confused or expectant. Mostly confused, she could see.

Hantaywee stuck her paw into the air. "What's going on, Ms. LeBrun?" she asked, clearly very confused.

"Oh, just a bunch of religious radicals who are trying to force their medieval views on the faculty, that's all," Jean answered. "We can talk about this if you wish, but it'll result in some extra homework, since we won't make it through everything planned for today. I leave the choice up to you."

The students stuck their heads together and started mumbling. It didn't take long before Hantaywee looked back up. "I think we'd all like to know. We'll deal with whatever extra homework it'll result in."

Jean nodded and scratched her neck. "Okay...let's try doing this by the numbers then," she said. "This, after all, is a Critical Thinking-class."

A few chuckles went up, but mostly, she was greeted by expectant and slightly confused faces.

"Did any of you watch the CNN Special two days ago, about life in Afghanistan?" Jean asked and was greeted by a lot of nods. Clearly, most of the class had seen that. She smiled and headed around the desk, to sit on the edge of it. "Good. Then I am certain you also paid close attention to the idea of the Burka. The manner in which Afghani femmes are expected to dress in public, on pain of death. In the same sense, I am sure you also paid attention to the concept of Sharia law...as in religious law, dictated by the Koran. Am I correct?"

Again, many nods went up.

"And I am sure you all found both concepts reprehensible. After all, CNN didn't try to present it in a very neutral or objective light."

Once more, nodding took place.

"Excellent," Jean said and nodded, thoughtfully. "Then, in the spirit of religious intolerance, let me ask you something else. How many furs in this room are here to keep an eye on how I react to the news of the protest that is being raised about my teaching, based on my...own history, so to speak? Come on now, don't be shy."

Most furs in the room looked confused. Very much so, in fact. Two of them looked nervous and fidgety. Jean noticed them, even though they tried to hide it.

"Ahh...I thought so," she said and smiled. "Well, gentlefurs...sorry to disappoint you but I'm hardly going to worry that a few medieval-minded furs are going to protest about my right to teach. You see...this country is currently waging war on a regime which rules by religious laws and on the basis of laws set down by religion. I'm probably not the only fur in this room intelligent enough to see the massive joke in what you're trying to do, but I assure you...it is a joke. If you should wish to remain in this class, I will expect to hear no more of this idiocy, and I will expect you to turn in your papers as promptly as anyone else in this room. If you can't deal with me teaching, then, gentlefurs, the door is over there...kindly leave and do not return until your minds and ethos have caught up to the 21st century."

One of the two furs raised a paw with an indignant look on his face. "You're wrong. We can get you fired just fine. We pay for tuition here and if we're not satisfied with the tuition offered..." he began.

"...then you can indeed have me fired. However, you will need to present evidence that my teaching is substandard. However, this is not, nor has it ever been, a question of my tuition. It is a question of me, as an individual. And that, gentlefurs, you cannot have me fired for. I am, by law, allowed to be who I am. If you were to cross Campus and talk to some of the students of law in the buildings over by the park, I'm certain they could conjure up ten or twelve cases...off the top of their heads...where courts have ruled against firing furs on basis of belonging to a legal sexual minority. We are, in fact, allowed to be the furs we are. Quite simple," Jean said, without ever raising her voice.

"We PAY to be taught...we have a damned right to demand some sort of standard from our teachers!" the fur retorted, angrily.

Jean chuckled. "And I repeat my question: can you prove that my actual teaching is below the standards required? I believe you can't. In fact, I know you can't. Besides, Mr. Blazkowitz, you don't pay for a specific teacher. You pay for tuition to be offered. It is offered, by qualified lecturers...myself included. Whether you want to accept the offered tuition is entirely up to you. We don't force you. The only one who will suffer in the end, should you wish to decline the offered tuition, is yourself. Partly because you will pay for a service without receiving it, by your own choice, and partly because your grades will plummet. Now, unless you have something valid to add to this conversation, I suggest you make your decision on whether to stay and be taught, or leave and remain unenlightened."

The fur got to his feet, as did his friend next to him. They both looked livid as they collected their books, making their way towards the door.

"God hates sinners," he sneered and looked at Jean in disgust. "You'll burn in Hell for undoing His creation, you filthy pervert."

Jean yawned slightly and looked at her wristwatch. "How odd...I could've sworn I took a bath this morning," she said and shrugged, before smiling overbearingly at the two males leaving the room. "Let's give God...or at the very least some angelic messenger...ten seconds to appear here in front of us to confirm that, shall we?"

The two males growled but didn't answer. Jean turned back towards the rest of the class, before speaking up again.

"I don't take kindly to threats, real or metaphysical as they may be, gentlefurs. Fortunately for those two, I don't believe in God, so I will simply take that statement as the fevered rantings of delusional minds. And on that note...shall we resume the lecture before we lose any more time?"

The two males left. Jean cleared her throat and, yet again, picked up her papers to get started. She was about to speak when it happened.

Hantaywee began to clap. Slowly at first. Quickly joined in by the rest of her group. Little by little, it spread. Jean smiled. Ten or twelve students had left, but this was the biggest class. If she could expect similar percentages to leave from the other classes, she could probably just rearrange things so she could have more evenly distributed numbers in her classes throughout the week.

Hantaywee got to her feet. The rest of the class followed.

Jean began to blush.

She felt good inside, though.

###

Gabrielle pulled out her suitcase from the taxi. Somehow, being back home felt a little unreal. The taxi-driver looked slightly uncertain. Possibly due to the fact that he was parked in front of ZZ Studios...coupled with the fact that he was wearing a wedding band.

Yohni got a couple of the suitcases as well, smiling. There were still a few bags to be taken out, but the driver seemed only too keen on helping.

In a matter of moments, he had driven off...in such a hurry that he gave Gabrielle too much money back when she paid him. The equine sighed and smiled crookedly, pocketing the extra few dollars, then looked towards the doors.

"Let's see if we can't get Marvin to lend a paw with all the luggage," she said and smiled. "Will you keep an eye on it while I go get him?"

Yohni nodded and sat down on a suitcase with a smile. "Naturally."

Gabrielle pushed the door open and entered. It was like coming home. In a way, it was coming home. She looked around the front hall...at the posters on the wall. All of Zig Zag's old triumphs.

"Ahh..."

She exhaled and smiled happily. Sabrina wasn't at her desk, but the computer was turned on so presumably she was somewhere else in the building. Knowing the skunk, it was probably somewhere completely innocent like the bathroom or possibly the kitchen.

Or Zig Zag's office, with some material.

Gabrielle turned and headed down the hallway towards the studios. That was the most likely place to find Marvin during the day. As majordomo, he'd help with anything going on off-camera, not involving bodyparts. Lifting and placing sets, replacing broken props or camera-lenses and generally acting as Zig Zag's second set of eyes and ears.

She opened the door.

The sounds of a movie being made met her. She stayed in the doorway, leaning against the frame for a moment, just watching. On the sets, Mia had just slapped Michael. Both were naked. Considering that the cameras were rolling, Gabrielle wasn't worried about whether it was for real or not.

"DAMMIT!!" Marvin's voice rang out. "Who left the door open?? LIGHT DISCIPLINE, for God's sake..."

Gabrielle didn't answer. Marvin had his back to her but could still obviously sense the extra light in the room.

The badger turned around, raising an admonishing finger. "Who..." he began.

"Me," Gabrielle answered.

It took Marvin a few seconds to recover. In the space of those few seconds, Gabrielle found herself in the midst of a group-hug, as her colleagues all rushed over.

"Sorry Marv..." she called out, laughing, from the middle of the throng. "The 'Filming' sign wasn't on."

Marvin just laughed and shook his head. "Where's Yohni?"

"Outside, waiting for you to be the gallant knight in shining armor, carrying all the luggage inside for her," Gabrielle giggled and hugged Mia closely. "Hey girl...s'good to see you."

Getting up, Marvin chuckled. "I see...when something needs carrying, everyone turns to the big badger..."

"Eet's probablee got sometheeng to do weeth the fact that you're steel dressed, compadre," Esteban grinned from behind the camera.

Marvin turned his head to look at the Hispanic wolf, a smile spreading on his face. "Well then...that means I can rightfully tell you to come help me, on account of you still being dressed as well, lobo. Get a move on!"

"Awww...geeve the lobo a break, no," Esteban whined, turning off the power to the camera. It didn't seem likely that a lot more shooting would take place for some time. No doubt, everyone would want to hear about Yohni's and Gabrielle's experiences in Europe.

Marvin chuckled and headed to the throng of naked furs, surrounding Gabrielle. "OY! Make room, or I'll MAKE room!" he bellowed and spread his arms out wide, making it clear he'd plow his way through if necessary.

"I'll tell your wife if you do," Gabrielle winked. "I doubt you can avoid groping various bosoms on the way if you try that stunt."

Marvin deflated and headed outside, mumbling something about how he had enjoyed not having to watch his tongue all the time. He was smiling though.

Gabrielle grinned and winked at Esteban as he passed.

"I'll tell Jean you're home, amiga. I'm sure she weell want to eenvite you and Yohnee over as queecklee as posseeble," the male said and smiled. "And before you get too smart...si, I want to see you both too."

"You're getting too clever for me, Esteban. I almost never catch you off guard anymore," Gabrielle grinned and smiled at all her friends. "Let's go and get a cup of coffee or something. We've got so much to tell."

Michael leaned his head against Gabrielle's bosom, closed his eyes and made snoring noises, smiling from ear to ear.

"He missed'em, I think," Mia grinned.

Michael just continued with the snoring noises, while giving Mia a thumbs-up.

Gabrielle giggled. "Hey you...don't monopolize these. That's my future wife's prerogative."

It took a moment before it sank in with everyone. Michael lifted his head and looked slightly confused for a moment.

"Whoa..." he finally said. "Esteban's getting hitched...now you...good grief, I can see what the Boss means when she says she might as well be running a dating agency. OW! Why're you slapping me now, Mia...?"

"Rehearsing, Michael...just rehearsing," the panda chuckled and looked innocent after slapping the back of Michael's head. "Congratulations, Gabby...you're one Hell of a couple. I'm happy for you both."

"Thank you. Hey, where's the stripy lady?"

"Zig Zag? She's interviewing a potential new actor. I'm sure she'll be very keen to know you're back."

Gabrielle grinned. "Okay, let's go get started on that coffee. Marvin and Esteban will need something to drink after carrying all our luggage inside."

Michael chuckled. "A lot of it, is there? Suddenly I'm glad I'm naked."

Mia rolled her eyes. "You're ALWAYS glad to be naked, Michael. Anyway, imagine letting Yohni loose in the shopping districts of Europe with a credit card..."

"Try two credit cards..." Gabrielle interjected.

Michael swallowed. "Ouch. Didn't think of that. Okay, coffee it is. In buckets," he said and headed towards the common room, Mia following close behind. Gabrielle smiled and reached out to close the door to the studio when she heard a noise behind her.

"@£*[]$¤&\!!"

"Yeah, we'll make a cup for you too Darke..."

"$%&£#£()€%"

Gabrielle grinned as she followed her friends to the common room. She hadn't seen Darke come around the corner behind her, but she was one of the few furs at the studio, apart from Marvin and Zig Zag, who actually understood the feline's unique take on the English language.

It was great to be back.

###

"Yeah, Leo...I told her that I'd help her find a new place to live, not to mention a job. She'll stay here with me until we've managed."

Lizzy listened to Leo's response on the phone and smiled.

"Definitely. In fact, I'll ask around at work. Who knows, someone might know someone...you know how it goes. Yeah, exactly..."

Emma was putting the finishing touches on an e-mail. She was listening to Lizzy speaking on the phone, but her concentration was mostly on the screen in front of her. She really needed this e-mail to get a good reception. It was just an idea, but she might as well try it. She hadn't mentioned it to Lizzy, admittedly. She wanted to try this on her own.

"Okay, just promise me you'll call me as often as you can until you ship out. Take care of yourself, Leo. I love you, okay?"

A moment later, Lizzy hung up. She rubbed her face and sighed, finally letting herself be worried. She couldn't sound like she was too concerned while on the phone. Inside, she was still shaking with dread at the idea of Leo going off to Afghanistan.

But she had come to terms with the fact that he would.

She turned around and looked at her friend. Emma was closing down her e-mail account.

"Hey you...what's up?" she asked, trying to strike up a light note of conversation.

Emma smiled and turned around. "Oh, nothing much. Just decided I would check my mail, you know. I have an idea, though. Why don't we go out, spend a couple of hours looking for a place to live for me, then we get some Chinese take-away and rent a movie or something?"

"Sounds like my idea of an evening. I could positively kill for some decent chop suey," Lizzy answered and went to get her jacket. "Was there any mail?"

"Nahh, but I sent my dad one..." Emma said. A little white lie, just in case Lizzy had noticed her writing. "Just letting him know I'm doing okay and improving."

Lizzy nodded and smiled. "You know..." she began, stopping halfway to the front hall. "Let's do that tomorrow...I have something I'd like to talk to you about today..."

"Oh?" Emma answered, looking slightly confused. "Not...not something bad is it?"

"Not at all. In fact, I hope this might help you feel a little less like that."

"Like what?"

Lizzy shrugged. "Like you need to always assume the worst. Like you need to always apologize for everything. I've got half a bottle of Bailey Cream that I'd like to make an assault on tonight. In fact...I know I'll need to."

"Liz...what's going on?" Emma asked, somewhat worried, approaching her friend slowly. "You look pale."

The doe nodded. "It's taking some effort to do this. But...I'd like to tell you about my childhood. I'd...like to share it with you."

Emma blinked and stopped. She knew Lizzy had always been extremely private about her past. She also knew that the doe got uneasy whenever anyone even alluded to her past, and that she had politely but firmly made it clear, several times, that she didn't want to talk about it.

"Are you absolutely sure? I don't want you to do this if you're not completely sure, okay?" she said.

Lizzy nodded and headed to the cabinet she and Leo used to keep their liquor in. "Yeah, I'm sure. I've learned something from knowing you and Jean and Miriam for this long, you see..."

"What's that, then?" Emma asked, sitting down on the couch.

"That you can't run from your past. But that you can learn to live with it," Lizzy answered, getting the bottle of alcohol and two glasses. "And...and..."

Emma tilted her head to the side and looked at her friend for a long time.

"You're...not the only one with violence in your past, Emma..." Lizzy said, without turning around.

"Jean got assaulted a couple of years ago...but that's not what you mean, is it?" Emma asked, quietly.

Lizzy shook her head. "I did eighteen months in a juvenile detention center, when I was younger. I was a real shit back then, Emma..." she said and turned around at last. She looked worried. Like she feared Emma's reaction more than anything.

"What did you do?" the mink asked, quietly.

Lizzy put the bottle down on the table. "I wish I could blame someone else, you know? I wish I could just throw up my arms and say I came from a broken home, and that it was all my parent's fault. Or that I had been beaten as a child...and that had made me violent. It wasn't like that at all. I came from a good home. I broke my parent's hearts...my father hasn't spoken to me since and my mother...well...she sends a Christmas card every year. When she remembers. Usually."

Emma just nodded. Clearly this wasn't easy for Lizzy to talk about and she wasn't going to pressure her friend about it. Instead, she reached out and took the bottle and glasses and poured two drinks. One very large and one normal. She pushed the large one across the table to Lizzy.

It took a long time before Lizzy could continue. She kept sipping her drink, looking into the brown, creamy liquid. When she finally did speak up, her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I was a real shit, Emma. I learned my lesson in jail...I got my life back together, I caught up with the schoolwork I had let slip and I made some big decisions about my life...but I was a really nasty piece of work when I was younger. I carried knives, you know...to school and everything. I ran with the wrong crowd...I had radical opinions..."

Emma smiled crookedly. "You still have radical opinions..."

"Heh...compared to then, I'm a fucking Republican. Back then, I didn't stick to wearing Che Guevara T-shirts...back then, I was willing to put action behind my words. Violent revolution and that kind of thing. Red Front, comrade and all that jazz. My parents tried to talk sense to me. I mean...they're left wing too but really moderate. I guess...they're what Europeans would call Social Democrats..." Lizzy continued, emptying her glass and pushing it back across the table for a refill.

Emma obliged her friend and returned the glass, filled once again. "No problem. I get the picture...I remember those classes where Mrs. Belge explained the European political systems to us."

Lizzy nodded and sipped the drink again. "I went to rallies. Well, I say rallies...try ten-to-fifteen rabid, foaming-about-the-mouth radicals sitting around, listening to someone even more rabid and foaming-about-the-mouth prattling on about the glorious revolution that was right around the corner. I didn't go home much, anymore. I stayed out...sometimes for weeks at a time. We'd attack furs we thought looked like 'capitalists'...I guess in reality we just hit anyone we thought had enough money to get us through another day or two. That's how it got out of paw, you know. I lost myself back then...I really did."

"God almighty, Lizzy...I never knew..." Emma said, shocked and worried. She wasn't afraid. Lizzy was her friend and she clearly...obviously regretted her past. But this was serious.

"In the end, I got into a big fight," Lizzy continued. "It was in a park. There had been a party...the Fourth of July celebrations. The local speaker had been a Republican. I don't know who anymore. I can't remember, to be honest. We decided to make some noise, y'know. In the end...knives were drawn and things got really ugly. I think that was when I realized things had gone too far...there were femmes and children there. Just ordinary furs...and suddenly things were completely out of control."

Emma just nodded and listened, sipping her own drink.

Lizzy took another break before continuing. "Those knives saw some use too. I didn't want to be there anymore and I tried to get my...my friends I suppose you would call them...to leave. One of them punched me and told me there was no room in the revolution for softies and class traitors. For fucks sake, Lizzy...we were teenagers, thinking we had found the ultimate truth of society. I can't believe how stupid we were. When I woke up, the cops were there. I got off lightly, because several witnesses went to bat for me in court, saying how I had been the only one trying to calm things down. I still got those eighteen months in the clink for all the muggings. I admitted to them, without anyone asking me..."

Again, Emma nodded. "Why did you do that, if you could've walked away for free?"

"Because I didn't want to walk away for free, Emma. Because I saw furs get hurt that night...who had done nothing wrong except they had different political opinions than me. What kind of a creep am I?"

"The kind of creep who turns her life around, gets a grip, enters university and majors in political history. The kind of creep who gets half a break at a second chance, and grabs it. The kind of creep who realizes that unless she changes, she is going to waste her life. Bottom line, Lizzy...you're not a creep anymore. You did some really stupid things...but you readily admitted it to the police, took your punishment and dealt with it," Emma said, smiling a reassuring smile at her friend.

"I've never told Leo..."

"You have to, you know..."

Lizzy nodded and looked down. "His family..." she began.

"...isn't who you're living with. You need to do this, for your own sake and for his. Trust in him. He loves you, and he has the best-developed sense of right and wrong I've ever seen in anyone. He'll understand and he'll support you. You haven't hidden this because you thought furs would judge you for it...you've hidden it because you've been judging yourself. Because you're ashamed of yourself. You don't need to be anymore. You did the right thing, Lizzy...in taking your punishment and in admitting to the cops what you had done. And don't blame yourself for what happened in that park. You tried to stop the violence...not add to it."

Lizzy nodded. Tears were rolling down her muzzle. "How do I tell him?"

Emma smiled a little and got up, walking around the table to hug her friend.

"Like you told me."