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."

Attitudes?

Lizzy was feeling a bit loopy. She hadn't slept much that night, tossing and turning, thinking about how she was going to tell Leo about her past. She knew Emma was right. The only right thing would be to tell him, but...he wasn't exactly at paw. He was about to fly off to Afghanistan, and he wouldn't be home for a very long time.

Could she somehow tell him before he went? Wouldn't he be angry for taking away his illusions...when he was going off to war?

Could she write him and tell him, somehow? Or would it look like a disguised 'dear John'? Should she use the phone instead, one of the times he called? What if he didn't really believe her when she said she regretted it all?

Would he leave her?

No matter what she did, it was going to be awkward and awful.

A lot of 'aw'...

She had gotten up several times and walked around during the night, but it hadn't worn her out. Now she was at work, and she looked like death. Not very warmed up, either. The Xerox machine was giving her two hundred kinds of grief again and she was so exhausted, emotionally and physically, that she felt like bursting into tears.

Instead, she put her face in her paws and sighed. The bloody machine kept churning out half copied, half empty pages and she couldn't figure out what she was doing wrong. Mostly, she wanted to scream and start bawling.

"Hey...what's the problem," a concerned voice asked from the doorway.

Lizzy turned her head and smiled. A female goat was looking in at her. She hadn't had much chance to talk to that particular femme yet. They didn't work in the same part of the consulate. She herself mostly worked in the public, visible part. As far as she knew, the goat was the local systems administrator. It showed in her manner of dress as well. While she, herself, was dressed formally, the newcomer wore a pair of faded Jeans and a T-shirt saying something in binary. It was probably a big computer-geek joke.

"Silke, isn't it?" she asked. As far as she recalled, the newcomer was one of the few actual Germans working there.

"That's right. You look like you're about to fall over," the goat answered, smiling.

She had strange eyes, like all furs of that particular type, Lizzy thought. Even evolution hadn't removed that trait. Many furs found goats unnerving for that reason, she realized. She couldn't help think it was rather fascinating. Those elongated pupils...Lizzy wondered if goats saw things sort of...stretched out.

"I slept very badly. My boyfriend is going off to Afghanistan soon and I have some confessions to make to him before he does...and I don't know how to go about it," she admitted.

Silke nodded and scratched behind one floppy ear, adorned with a large number of earrings. "Ah...well, I won't be indiscreet so I won't ask what kind of confessions. But how long have you been a couple?"

"More than two years..."

"Then he'll understand...or at least forgive you."

Lizzy smiled crookedly. "You sound very sure of that?"

Silke grinned toothily and shrugged. "Males are very similar, in many ways. With slight variations, there are only three archetypes. The Rotten Dirtbag, the Really Nice Guy and the Completely Insecure Wreck. If he's stayed with the same femme for two years, he either falls into the first or second category, and somehow I find it extremely hard to believe you'd settle in with an RD!"

Lizzy couldn't help laughing. It was liberating to do so...it took away so many worries so easily. "Oh...and why's that so hard to believe?" she asked, amused.

"Because everyone here has noticed that you're a strong femme who won't take crap from anyone, and RD's don't function with strong femmes. They need someone they can bully around and hit whenever they feel like it."

"..."

Silke winked. "Well, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. Now...what's the matter with this bloody piece of machinery..." she asked and turned to face the Xerox machine.

Lizzy recovered and smiled. So...others at the office had noticed she was a 'strong femme'. It was comforting in a way. Or perhaps...rather reassuring.

"I don't know what's wrong with it, but it keeps giving me half-printed pages..."

Silke rolled her strange eyes and groaned. "Not a-bloody-gain..." she mumbled and kicked the side of the machine. It hiccuped and sputtered...then a small puff of black smoke came up from the back of it.

"Oops?" Lizzy tried.

Silke actually looked relieved. "Well, I AM supposedly the systems administrator. I've just administered the last rites to this piece of junk, I think. Good...then the consul can get us a new one. She runs a tight budget, by necessity, y'know...she has to explain all expenses to Berlin sooner or later. Oh well...this one is definitely necessary."

The small cloud of blackish-grayish-bluish smoke drifted upwards and spread, rolling in on itself. Lizzy couldn't help thinking it looked as if the machine had taken one last hit on a big cigar and blown a smoke-ring.

"It's dead, Jim..." she muttered.

"Raumschiff Enterprise...TOLL!" Silke grinned and looked out the door, before raising her voice. "HEY, EVERYONE...IT'S FINALLY EXPIRED!"

A large cheer went up from everyone who heard. Clearly, Silke didn't need to explain further and everyone was relieved that the Xerox-machine had finally decided to kick the bucket.

Lizzy giggled. She wasn't nearly as tired anymore. "Well, what do we do for photocopies until then?" she asked.

"You give'em to me, and I scan the damned things and make as many prints as you need from my machine. Alright, it'll take forever and a day, and the quality will be bad, but it's the only way unless you want to block the fax machines. And trust me, considering the amount of faxes we get every day, I wouldn't recommend that," Silke said and took the papers out of Lizzy's paws. "This way, come on."

Lizzy nodded and followed. At least the day was looking brighter by the moment.

###

Leo scratched his cheek. He hadn't had a chance to trim his beard that day and he felt itchy. The foxholes his platoon had dug had been covered up again, and Captain Cervus had demanded an explanation for why he had felt like digging up every lawn within half a square mile on base. He had offered the only explanation possible...that he was simply following Lieutenant Aureus' order.

Captain Cervus had looked like he had momentarily forgotten how to exhale, had developed a fascinating facial color and bellowed for Lieutenant Aureus to report to him immediately.

Then he had dismissed Leo.

The lion hadn't known what the Captain had said to the First Lieutenant, but whatever it was, it hadn't been good. And that had not exactly endeared third platoon to the jackal. Consequently, Leo was now marching through mud and slush, on a rainy day. At four thirty that morning, Lieutenant Aureus had woken him up, telling him that he had to take his platoon on a twenty mile march.

Leo had, naturally, asked why, since Captain Cervus had given him explicit instructions on what to do that day.

Lieutenant Aureus had snarled at him not to question his orders, and then left.

That was fifteen miles ago...

Leo's feet were swelling in his boots. While his old wounds were mostly healed, and while his boots now actually fit, it was still a painful experience. Before he had left, Sergeant Pardinus had taught him another trick. He had put on a pair of thin socks, then wrapped them very tightly in medical tape.

"Your feet will stink like there's no tomorrow, Lieutenant, but before those boots of yours wear holes in your feet, they have to wear holes in the tape and the socks. It gives you another five or six miles. At least."

Leo was grateful that he had the lynx in his unit. Sergeant Pardinus was a tough soldier and a good NCO.

"Sir...permission to speak?" PFC Twain called out.

"Sure, Private...what's up?" Leo answered, trudging on while pulling his helmet down in his eyes.

"Why is Lieutenant Aureus such an anal retentive piece of shit?"

"He isn't a piece of shit, Twain. A piece of shit can be flushed out...he can't!"

"Yessir!" the equine grinned. "But he certainly doesn't like third platoon."

Leo nodded. "That's correct, he doesn't. But that's because he's an all-over asshole."

"Sir?"

"Yeah, his commands stink, and whatever end he opens up, only shit comes out," Leo explained without turning his head.

He got a roar of laughter from his platoon.

He smiled to himself. He liked these furs.

###

Zig Zag smiled widely as Gabrielle opened the door to the office and stepped inside. The equine looked well. Zig Zag had worried if she'd have to order a diet for her two actresses when they came back from their long vacation but from the looks of it...there was no need. No doubt, she told herself, the two of them had gotten plenty of exercise.

She beckoned for Gabrielle to take a seat and leaned back, kicking up her feet.

"Welcome back. You've been sorely missed," she said.

"Thank you, Boss. So have you. And everyone else around here for that matter. Even Darke..." Gabrielle replied and grinned.

"I'll make sure to tell her. It's one of those things that might get a £()¤$*@€# out of her..."

"Ouch...that almost stung my eardrums. I'm used to it from Darke but not from you."

Zig Zag smiled widely and picked up a pen, tapping the tip of her nose, absentmindedly. "So...you finally worked up the courage, did you?"

To the skunk's astonishment, the filly in front of her actually blushed and looked shy. "Yeah...I did. I admit I was nervous though."

"Why? I consider you two one of my finest achievements," Zig Zag said with a crooked grin. "There was no chance she'd say no..."

Gabrielle shrugged and tried to stop smiling uncertainly. "I know but...still...you know..."

"Yeah, I do. You have to be nervous before asking something like that. Anyway, I'm glad you decided to take me up on my offer."

"Boss! Seriously! How dumb do you really think I am? When you offered to let us hold the whole thing here...I was stunned rigid. Thank you!"

Again, Zig Zag grinned. "Well, it wasn't all that much of a favor really. I already promised Esteban to help him out with his and Jean's wedding. If we clear out one of the studios, it's easily big enough for a wedding celebration...even for two couples. And considering that three out of the four furs getting married work for me, and the last one had a major paw in the making of probably my best film...y'know, I'm not an ingrate."

Gabrielle shook her head and folded her legs. "I think that's the last thing anyone can rightfully call you, Boss. What I mean is...you've already repaid us a dozen times over. All of us. For anything you could conceivably ever have owed us."

"Nonsense. This won't cost me anything. I'm just letting you use the room...which gives me a good excuse to get it thoroughly cleaned out, plus I get to taste the wedding cake. And if it's Jean's dad making it, I'd commit first degree murder for a taste of it. I win no matter how one looks at it," the skunk grinned and made a triumphant little gesture with the pen in her paw.

Gabrielle giggled. She had missed Zig Zag while away. Somehow it was impossible not to, once you got to know the skunk.

"I've got something else I need to talk to you about, Boss...something a bit more serious..."

Zig Zag sat up straight and nodded. "Sure...go ahead?"

"Well, let's face it, I'm not getting any younger," Gabrielle began.

"Gabby...is this about your age? For God's sake, you've never looked hotter than now," Zig Zag replied, surprised.

Shrugging, Gabrielle smiled a little. "I know," she said and sighed. "And I'm not talking about now. I'm simply saying that I won't stay this good looking forever. You and I both know that this is about sales in the end. That when all is said and done, there's a bottom line to consider..."

"Gabby...can I be straightforward with you for a moment?"

"Always, you know that."

Zig Zag sighed and rubbed the corners of her eyes. "Not too many days ago, Sabrina gave me her two week notice. I'm really not sure I can take any more talks along those lines right now..."

Gabrielle opened and closed her mouth a few times. She had no idea that Sabrina was quitting. She realized she had probably picked a very bad time for this conversation and began apologizing.

Zig Zag shook her head and brushed the apology off with a little smile.

"Not your fault, Gabby, you didn't know. The point is...I don't want to lose more furs I care for right now, okay?"

That at least brought a smile to the bronco's face. "Don't worry...I'm not going to leave. Besides, even if I did stop working here, I know where you live!"

"That almost sounds like a threat," Zig Zag laughed, visibly cheering up.

"I was going to ask you for some advice, that's all..."

"Advice I can do. Let's hear it..."

Gabrielle thought about it for a moment. Then she sat up a little straighter. "You know my T-shirts, Boss..."

Zig Zag couldn't suppress a giggle. "Yeah, I think everyone around here knows and loves them. What about them?"

"Well, I am thinking of making my own line of attitude-wear. I was thinking of asking you if you would be interested in adding a little ZZ-studios logo on the sleeves or something...and sell them as products of the studio?"

Zig Zag pondered a moment, leaning back again and looking at the filly. "I'm not going to say that doesn't pique my curiosity because it does! But I would need to see more than an idea, Gabby...you know that."

"I know, Boss. But I was thinking...if you give me a couple of months... I could probably turn up with a portfolio of ideas to show you? The way I see it...I would learn something about marketing in general, for when I am going to retire, sometime in the future," Gabrielle said, smiling.

The skunk nodded, quiet for a moment. Then she leaned forward. "Okay...when you have something to show me, let me see it. We'll see if it's useful then."

Gabrielle got to her hoofs and nodded. "Sure. Thank you, Boss. I appreciate it."

Zig Zag smiled as Gabrielle left the room. It was good to have the equine back at the studio.

###

It was late afternoon. Almost time for Jean to pack up and go home, when Hantaywee and Richard knocked on her office door and peeked inside. They looked a little nervous, but quite eager.

Hantaywee stepped inside first, adjusting a few beads in her hair with a slightly uncertain air. Richard followed, apparently finding the button-holes in his left-open shirt incredibly interesting.

Jean turned around on her chair and smiled warmly.

"Well well...I was almost starting to believe you had forgotten me," she said, winking. "How can I help you two today?"

Hantaywee grinned a little and tried to figure out a way to say what she had on her mind. It wasn't easy. She looked at the terrier as if hoping he could help.

The terrier shrugged and looked back at the puma. "'Ey...don't look at me. We had this rehearsed out juuust fine and suddenly I forgot everything. I feel like I'm about to ask a girl out for the first time. Tonguetied."

"I'm well spoken for, Mr. Terry," Jean chuckled. "But somehow I think you were making a comparison."

"Oh absolutely, absolutely," Richard hurried. "I wouldn't dream of presuming...I mean...you know...I don't mean to say..."

Hantaywee groaned and facepawed. "You're Mr. Soft-spoken himself, aren't you? Gods, Richard...I need to coach you if you're EVER going to get a date..." she chuckled and turned towards Jean.

Richard recovered marvelously, Jean had to admit afterwards. She was about to hear what Hantaywee had to say when the canid put his arms akimbo and looked at her with an air of indignant dissatisfaction.

"Well, if you would go out with me then the problem wouldn't even exist!"

The puma, who had been just about to speak, clamped her mouth shut, opened her eyes wide and stared at her friend. "Whoa...where did that come from?" she finally asked.

Richard shrugged. "My vocal cords...duhhh..." he answered and folded his arms over his chest. "So?"

Hantaywee looked at Jean again and tried to find a facial expression to match her confusion. "Did anything like this ever happen to you, Ms. LeBrun?" she asked, almost mewling. "We just came to say we thought you did great yesterday, and that if you need it, we'll be glad to help arrange a counter-demonstration."

"To answer your question, I think, in all honesty, I can truthfully say I have never had anyone ask me out on a date like that," Jean answered and tried to avoid laughing. "As for the counter-demonstration, I think that's giving these jerks exactly what they want. Publicity. What they don't want is to be laughed at, ridiculed and made to feel intellectually inferior because of their views. But of course, I never said that."

"Said what?" Richard asked, looking innocent...before returning his gaze to Hantaywee. "And you still haven't answered."

"Erhh...yes?"

"Good. I'll pick you up at seven."

Again, the puma looked at her teacher with confusion on her face. "Does this constitute being 'swept off my feet'?"

"I dunno...do you need to sit down?" Jean asked, good-naturedly.

Hantaywee answered by falling into a chair.

Richard grinned and winked at Jean. "I guess your tutoring helped more than my critical thinking."

"I'd say so," Jean replied and shook her head in humored disbelief. "It helped your self confidence too."

"We'll come by next week too, with what we have on our paper," Hantaywee said, trying to recover her control of the situation.

Jean shook her head. "That'd be pretty pointless. I would get a load of paperwork in my paws that I had no chance to comment on. E-mail me everything you have and then drop by Thursday after classes."

Richard nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

As the two students closed the door behind themselves, Jean finally allowed herself to laugh.

###

"What is your excuse, Lieutenant Leon?" Captain Cervus asked. He looked angry in that way only ranking officers could.

Leo snapped to attention. "No excuse, Sir."

"You were supposed to put the final touches on your technique this morning. Third platoon may be the best I have in this damned company, but if I give you an order, I expect it to be followed. Now...where were you, Lieutenant!?"

"Marching, Sir. Twenty miles. It was a wet experience too."

"Marching?? I ordered you and your platoon to report to the training area at seven thirty this morning. Why in GOD'S GOOD GRACES WERE YOU MARCHING?!"

Leo sighed. Ratting on a superior officer was bad form but he was unable to answer the Captain's question without telling the truth.

"Lieutenant Aureus countered your order, Sir. He instructed Third Platoon to do a twenty mile march, starting at a quarter to five this morning. We had not yet returned by the time we were supposed to commence firing, Sir," he explained.

Captain Cervus narrowed his eyes. "Oh he did...did he? And on what authority did he do this?"

"Sir? He woke me at four thirty with an infernal ruckus, telling me to get my platoon on the road...I admit that I did not question his order at the time," Leo admitted.

The elk went quiet, looking Leo up and down for a long moment. "At times, I can't decide whether you are being too smart for your own good, Lieutenant," he grumbled. "Naturally, you don't question orders from a superior officer. However, you should have informed Lieutenant Aureus that you already had orders from a higher authority...even if it was at four thirty in the morning. Understood?"

Leo saluted sharply again and nodded. "Yessir!"

"Dismissed, Lieutenant. Inform the First Sergeant to find Lieutenant Aureus and send him to me."

"Yessir!"

Leo turned on his heel and reached for the doorknob.

"Oh...one last thing, Lieutenant," the voice of the captain said behind him.

"Sir?"

"You run a damned fine Platoon, Lieutenant Leon. Keep up the good work."

"Yessir!"

With that, Leo left the office. Smiling.

###

It was blowing at a stiff gale as the striped convertible pulled up in front of James' home. It was definitely fall by now, and the weather had apparently decided to let everyone know. James smiled slightly. Much as he loved summer, there was something to be said for cold, dark evenings too. Especially if it meant he could spend them with Zig Zag and a cup of something hot...preferably in front of a hot fireplace.

Outside, the car had come to a halt. The door opened and Zig Zag stepped out. The wind caught her hair and whipped it around her face, just as the first two raindrops hit the window. Two became four...became many...almost instantly. A stray wind caught the skunk's dress and made it flutter, forcing her to pull an outright Marylin Monroe to avoid her dress blowing up around her hips.

She laughed.

James loved it when Zig Zag laughed.

No doubt, she didn't know that she was being watched.

He moved away from the window and headed to the kitchen. He had something special in store for dinner, after all. A strange but interesting scent was already spreading in the whole house.

"JAMES? ARE YOU HERE?" Zig Zag called out from the front hall. Her voice was merry.

"Yeah, I'm right here," he answered and peeked out from the kitchen, smiling. Zig Zag was already halfway soaked to the fur, making her dress cling to her body. Again, the warm fireplace came to James' mind.

"What's that smell?" the skunk asked and flicked her hair back, sending droplets of water flying everywhere.

James grinned. "Dinner, actually. It's going to be one of those meals that require patience, so I hope you're not too ravenous."

"I am, but with you I can be patient for as long as it takes," Zig Zag answered and entered the kitchen. A pot was boiling on the stove and she raised an eyebrow.

"Belgian recipe...clams with various spices. It's not easy to get fresh seafood in Ohio, I've said so often enough," James explained with a smile. "I got a nice white wine for it...perhaps you'd like to start with a glass of that?"

Zig Zag leaned her head against James' shoulder and sighed contently. "You spoil me rotten, you know."

"Yeah, I do...but you're worth it."

"Thank you."

James didn't answer right away, instead he brushed his fingers through Zig Zag's wet hair.

"Who'd have thought going from your car to the house could get you this drenched," he commented and smiled. "Anyway...I've got everything ready for our little vacation. Just a week away, for the both of us. I think we could both use some us-time."

Zig Zag nodded and closed her eyes. "Absolutely. Marvin knows I'll be gone for a week after tomorrow. He'll take care of everything. And a week off will do me a lot of good. That'll get me back in time to say goodbye to Sabrina too."

James nodded. "It'll do me some good too. I love my job but frankly, I need to get away from computers for a while."

"Ooh, that sounds like it's going to be a week of living the simple life," Zig Zag purred.

"Don't worry...I'm sure you will like it."

"I have no doubt that I will."

James reached out and shook the large, boiling pot a little. The clams, being steamed over the boiling water, rattled around noisily.

"Gabrielle came in to talk to me today...about her future after she stops acting," Zig Zag said, absentmindedly, after a moment.

James raised an eyebrow. "Oh? She's still young, what's she worried about?"

"Oh...just long term planning really. She had a pretty neat idea. I hope she'll carry it through. You've met her a few times, James...what's your impression of her?"

"She's a walking statement of attitude! And very likable."

Zig Zag giggled. "I think that's the best description of her I've heard in some time. Well, she's decided to make a line of clothing...attitude-wear, really."

James chuckled and rattled the clams again. "I'm not an expert on such things but I would venture that she has a natural aptitude for attitude. What's this got to do with you and your studio, though?"

"She wants to sell it through the studio first and foremost. You know...add a little logo. It's not a bad idea. The studio is a known brand. It'll help her sell a lot more," Zig Zag said and slipped James' free arm around herself.

James nodded and gently pulled the skunk a little closer. "Seems like sound marketing to me, at least," he said.

Zig Zag nodded and smiled lazily. "That's the point. She's got three...maybe four years left in front of the camera and she knows it. She's bright though. She plans for the future. I'm actually thinking that if this is a success...I might try giving her a few more marketing-related tasks. If she turns out to have a knack for it...well...maybe she won't leave ZZ Studios when she's done with her active career."

"You really don't like to see them leave, do you?" James asked, kindly, looking at the skunk with a warm little smile.

She shook her head. "They're my family, James..."

"I know, Love. I know..."

The clams were almost done.

###

"You called the Spyky one, Rowena herself speaking," the porcupine said as she lifted the receiver to her ear. Her spikes rattled some...she had been in the middle of waxing them.

"Hey Rowena...sorry it's been so long since I called. It's Gabby. Do you have a moment?" the voice said from the other end.

Rowena beamed and sat down. "For you, filly, any time. I don't run your fan-club to brush you off when you call, y'know."

Gabrielle grinned at the other end of the line. "I can see what you mean. How many members are there these days?"

Rowena squinted and tried to remember the exact number. "Good God, Gabby...don't ask me that kind of question this late in the evening," she teased. "Enough to keep me happily employed with a modest salary taken from the membership. About sixty five percent males, thirty five percent females, that much I do know."

"Must be the way I broadcast. I don't think most pornstars have that many female fans..."

"Well...male pornstars do, I think. Your colleague, Rafe...he's got quite a following."

Gabrielle chuckled. "I can imagine. Anyway, I'm going to send you some stuff to put on the official homepage."

"Sounds good," Rowena said, businesslike once more. "What kind of stuff?"

"Well, at first it's just a message, but later it'll be some designs for clothes. T-shirts mostly..." Gabrielle explained.

Rowena grinned widely. "You mean to tell me that you're finally going to make your much-famed T-shirts available to your fan-base?"

"Yeah, once I've come up with ten or fifteen good ones that aren't already copyrighted, I will."

"Excellent. I'll put it on the net as soon as you send it to me."

"Great. I'll talk to you soon then. Oh...there's one more thing, Rowena..."

The porcupine nodded and ran a paw carefully over the spikes on her head. "Yeah? What can I help you with?"

"You can set aside a few days in a couple of months to go to Ohio. I'll send you an official invitation but Yohni and I are finally getting hitched."

Rowena nearly fell out of her chair. "REALLY? GREAT! Congratulations. Aww, that's gonna break some hearts out there, y'know."

Gabrielle laughed at the other end of the line. "I know, but she's the one I intend to spend the rest of my life with. Anyway, I would very much like for you to be here for the ceremony."

"Absolutely! Try to keep me away. Is it okay if I bring a camera? I'm sure the fans would like a few photos of the event."

"You're asking a porn-actress if she minds cameras?"

"Doh...good point. I'll bring two."

"Good girl. Talk to you soon."

"You too, Gabby."

They hung up. Rowena grinned and got back up to get the spike-wax again.