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."
Emma opened the door. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she wasn't quite sure what to expect. She knew about the Ohio Historical Society from her studies, but she had never actually had any contact with anyone working for them before. She wasn't sure if she should expect fossils who had barely discovered that electric lighting stank less than oil-lamps, or if they were modern historians, using information technology way beyond her meager skills.
For all she knew, this was a wild goose chase.
"Easy now, Emma...what you're doing is important, even if you don't get the job," she whispered to herself and raised her head.
That was true too. She had to do this. It was the job Jeremy had prevented her from getting, originally. There was a ritual value in being here. Something...liberating, in a strange way.
She was there, at least. Looking around, she realized she might as well have entered a library. Books everywhere. She smiled. It looked like something she could easily relate to, so far.
"Now now...don't get your hopes up already," she muttered and shook her head.
"Emma Grey?" a voice said off to her left.
She turned her head and nodded, suddenly feeling nervous again. "That'd be me," she answered, dutifully.
"Pleased to meet you," the speaker said. A tabby feline of around 40, she looked pretty much like what Emma had come to expect from a historian at work. Relaxed, professional...and slightly dusty. "I'm Kirsten Cornish," she explained and extended a paw.
Emma shook it, smiling politely. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Cornish."
"Let's have a seat. I've got a few things to ask you about your qualifications, naturally..." the feline said and pulled out a chair.
Emma nodded and sat down opposite from her. At least this was going well so far.
###
The plane had landed after dark. Well and truly after dark, in fact. It had been nearly midnight, local time and apart from the landing lights, it had been pitch black everywhere. The unloading had proceeded normally, and Leo had had ordered his troops out of the plane and into the waiting transports.
They hadn't really been tired, but he had ordered everyone to bed nonetheless. If they could get a couple of hours of sleep, it'd be beneficial.
Leo himself was out and about. He had paperwork to fill out, officers to meet and report to, stores to supervise, and of course...he needed to find out where exactly his M198's were parked.
It would be beneficial if he could find the mess-hall too.
What would also be highly beneficial would be if he could have half an hour to himself at ANY time during the day or evening, to sit down and ponder the letter Lizzy had written him. He wasn't sure what to make of it. One thing he knew was that it changed nothing about his feelings for her. He was happy that she had finally decided to confide in him about her past, but he wasn't exactly sure why. He needed to sit down and write a proper response. One where he could really make the doe understand that she had nothing to worry about and that if anything had changed at all, it was that he was even prouder of her now than before, for having had the courage to take her punishment. The problem was...how he was going to write it without looking like some kind of old-fashioned jerk. He didn't want her to think he was applauding her because she had been punished. What he found admirable was that she had shown the kind of guts it took to admit she had been wrong, deal with the repercussions and then find herself again in the midst of all that mess.
How many juvenile delinquents had enough backbone and enough brains to do what Lizzy had done, and come out of it with a university degree? Not many, as far as the lion knew.
Sighing, he shook his head and continued walking, trying to put the issue out of his mind for now. It would have to wait until he had some time to himself, and however much he hated it, that was unlikely to happen the first day after landing in Afghanistan. Crossing the grounds, he saw Lieutenant Aureus and Captain Cervus a few hundred feet away. From the looks of it, Captain Cervus was being very patient with the jackal, who seemed to be very agitated about something.
Shrugging, Leo continued. He had other tasks to see to.
Afghanistan, so far, hadn't been terribly different from America. Then again, he hadn't been off base. He felt pretty sure that he wouldn't find many similarities if he did leave base.
He got close to the gate. A few scared faces peered in from a safe distance. The guards looked very alert, and Leo walked up to the closest soldier. Maybe a hundred feet away, three or four raggedy furs looked at him like he was some menacing, terrifying creature.
"What's up with them, soldier?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the natives.
"Sir! They are hoping to beg something off the soldiers, but we are forbidden to let them nearer than a hundred feet, sir!" the soldier answered, snapping to attention.
Leo nodded. It gnawed at him that he couldn't simply walk up to those furs and give them something to eat, but he knew there was a reason why they weren't allowed closer to base. For all he knew, one of them could be hiding a paw-grenade in their clothes. Or a bomb-belt.
"Carry on, soldier," Leo said and adjusted his cap again, heading back inside the gate.
He walked towards the regimental headquarters, but was interrupted along the way as Corporal Mofeta came storming up to him, looking extremely distraught.
"SIR! Please..." the skunk called out.
Leo stopped and nodded. "Yes Corporal?" he asked.
"The Captain is looking for you. For all the officers, Sir. It's really bad...really bad..."
"What's bad?"
The skunk looked like he barely knew what foot to stand on. "They caught an American, Sir."
Leo blinked and nodded. "That's tragic, of course. But this is war. We can't seriously expect to do this without suffering casualties, Corporal."
Corporal Mofeta shook his head vigorously. "No Sir, you don't understand. They caught an American...fighting for THEM, Sir..."
Leo blinked. Then his eyes went wide. "What?"
"That's right, Sir...please, you gotta come, right away..." the corporal said and swallowed.
Leo had already broken into a run.
###
Jean walked up an unknown staircase. She'd never set foot in this part of the university before. She had never thought she would go there, but circumstances forced her to do so. She sighed and adjusted her top a little and rubbed her eyes.
"You need glasses, Jean," she mumbled to herself, to take her mind off what was going to happen.
She walked along a little further, trying to look confident. She wasn't simply just another student anymore. She had nothing to fear, did she?
Did she?
Sighing, she stopped and put her arms akimbo, looking at her feet, trying to compose herself. There was no reason for her to be this afraid. It was idiotic. It was a throwback to the days where she apologized for existing.
"Dammit, Jean LeBrun, get a grip on yourself," she growled at herself.
"Ahh, so you're the much famed...or should I say infamous...Ms. LeBrun?" a warm, chuckling voice asked behind her.
Jean very nearly catapulted through the rafters from fright. Her heart thundered in hear ears. She had been so concentrated on calming down that she hadn't heard whomever was approaching from behind.
"I have to admit, I have been expecting you," the voice said.
Jean turned around, very slowly. She looked up at a very tall, rather skinny red wolf, looking to be in his mid-fifties. He wore glasses and a kind smile. His suit was immaculate, as was the collar around his neck.
The campus priest. Or at least, one of them.
"Okay..." she began, swallowing. Her tail was bristling. "Right now, I'm half an inch away from an instinct-driven reaction..."
"You mean, you're about to tuck tail and run for your life?" the wolf asked, smiling crookedly as he found a pipe in his pocket. "Why?"
Jean shrugged, still perched like she was about to start running. "Well, for one thing, it's genetics. You're head and shoulders taller than me, I'm a vixen and you're a wolf. You startled me, Father."
The wolf laughed softly and started adding tobacco to his pipe. He had a very nice laugh, Jean thought. Very reassuring. "You needn't be afraid of me, Miss LeBrun. I'm not your enemy, although a few of my colleagues around campus would react very differently. I think the Methodist preacher a couple of hallways further down would like to build a bonfire outside, just for you. Ahh, the folly of such furs..."
Jean sighed and nodded. "That's why I'm here. I asked around, and I'm told you're generally considered the most levelheaded and respected religious at campus," she said and searched through her shoulder-bag for something.
"Why, thank you. I try my best."
"You're welcome. Anyway...I was wondering what you would make of this...?"
The wolf smiled warmly. "By the way, I'm Father Rufus, but I'm sure you know that since you came looking for me. What is that you have there," he asked and looked at the crumbled papers that Jean held out for him.
"This was tied to a half-brick, thrown through the window of one of my students, while she was working with some friends on a paper that I am supervising. They are some of my strongest supporters amongst the student community. I figured you'd be the right fur to talk to about this."
Father Rufus took one look at the papers and frowned, deeply. "Who desecrated the Holy Bible like this?" he asked, calmly.
Jean sighed and shrugged. "We don't know. All Hantaywee could tell me was that someone shouted 'Freak-lovers', and that the voice was definitely male. It also sounded like there were more than one pair of feet running away, but frankly they were all too shocked to look right away. I can't blame them, Father. Anyway...I wrote my thesis on the Society of Jesus. Catholic history is my field of expertise. Well, that and critical thinking. As a result, I read enough Latin to understand what this is," she explained.
"It's sacrilege, that's what it is!" Father Rufus said, evenly but firmly. "I'm glad you came to me with this. I'll do my best to find out who did this. If it's one of the students, I'll make him wish he was in Purgatory already, I can promise you that. To desecrate the Bible...oh I've never..."
"Pardon me for saying so, Father...but for a fur in my situation, I've often wished someone would do that very thing to Paul's writings. However, I respect the beliefs of others, and I don't want anyone to terrorize my students like that, for any reason," Jean said, finally starting to relax a little.
The wolf observed her, carefully, for a long moment. Then he nodded. "I suppose I can see where you're coming from, Miss LeBrun. You're not Catholic yourself, I take it?"
"I was raised in a Catholic home, but I have no faith of my own, no. There are very few religions out there who want anything to do with a fur like me and I am not desperate for belief," the vixen answered, honestly.
Father Rufus nodded, slowly, and then sighed. "I can't really blame you. It is rather sad, how the followers of a religion that claims to preach love, acceptance and gentility so often focus on anything they can twist into a message of hate, isn't it?"
Jean nodded and smiled bitterly. "Indeed it is, Father. Indeed it is. Anyway, if you need to get a hold of me for any reason about this, I wrote down my e-mail address, my office-hours and the internal phone-number for my office. Here you go," she said and held out a folded piece of paper.
The wolf took it and pocketed it. "I will let you know as soon as I know more, Miss," he said and made to leave. Halfway into his first stride, he stopped and looked at the vixen for a moment. "You may not believe in God, Miss LeBrun. But meeting you really has made me see the truth in the old saying...that He works in mysterious ways. Thank you for this."
"You're welcome. Have a nice day, Father," Jean said, nodding to the priest, before heading out.
###
Leo looked at the other officers of the company. There were nothing but concerned faces present. The expressions ranged from uncertainty to quietly subdued anger. Leo himself was mostly disbelieving. The idea that an American would fight for the Taliban was just a touch too incredible.
Lieutenant Aureus was standing near the front. His tail was twitching. Suddenly Leo realized that what he had witnessed earlier, was most likely the jackal informing the captain of the news.
"Gentlefurs," Captain Cervus said, in a tightly clipped voice.
Everyone immediately snapped to attention.
"Yesterday...American Forces subdued the prison revolt at Mazar-e-Sharif. Since we arrived only yesterday, we weren't privy to most of this information, but Mazar-e-Sharif is a prison facility, used to incarcerate some of the most dangerous and extremist Taliban fighters..." the elk continued, in a grave tone of voice.
"...as if any of them were less extremist," Lieutenant Aureus mumbled.
"Shut up, Lieutenant!" the Captain snapped, looking directly at the jackal until the lieutenant looked away, shamefully. "I am not interested in that kind of HORSESHIT in this company. Maybe you would've benefited from listening to Lieutenant Leon's speech to his troops before they flew out."
Leo swallowed. When Captain Cervus looked away from Lieutenant Aureus, the jackal looked over his shoulders and bared his fangs at him. The lion was instantly aware that he had just made an enemy.
Ahh well, he told himself, Lieutenant Aureus already hated third platoon with a passion.
He had other things to consider than some vengeful creep with a silver bar on his shoulderboard.
"In any case," Captain Cervus went on "...the prisoners at Mazar-e-Sharif revolted and killed an American. I don't have any information just yet. They tried to break free to rejoin their comrades in arms. American troops inflicted severe casualties during this attempted escape. One of the survivors, who had been captured during a four-day battle at a Taliban stronghold up north, suddenly identified himself as an American citizen."
A few sounds of disbelief went up from the assembled officers. Very few seemed prepared to believe this story, just yet.
Captain Cervus made a brusque gesture with one paw to silence everyone, before he continued. "As of this time, all we know is that in all likelihood, a traitor has been fighting for the enemy. We don't know yet if he is a soldier who has defected or a civilian who joined the Taliban long ago. More information will be released in time, I am sure. My point is...this cannot be kept secret from the troops, nor should it be. What I want from each and every one of you...is to prevent a loss in morale in your units. Moreover, I want NO unwarranted acts of hostility towards the civilian population. We are not here to be their enemies, but their liberators. Understood?"
"YESSIR!"
Every officer replied simultaneously. Then saluted and filed out.
###
By the time Jean got home, she was ready to collapse in a veritable heap. She was so exhausted that she didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other, once inside the door.
"ESTEBAN?? Are you home yet?" she called out, pulling off her jacket. "Oooh, is that tortillas I can smell?"
"Si. We have guests, you know," Esteban's voice answered.
Jean blinked. "Guests? Aww, but I can't figure out how to walk from here to the couch. My feet are on strike..."
A well known, slightly taunting and entirely good natured voice answered spoke up from the living room.
"Oh...and here I am, thinking historians do their job sitting down..."
The vixen smiled widely. "Well, at least I'm sitting upright, instead of working on my back, filly!"
"Oooh, good one, Gabby. You gotta give her credit for that," Yohni said, also from the living room.
"Well that might account for why she's so tired. I get to lay down most of the day. I have no excuse for not being well rested," Gabrielle retorted, chuckling. "Yeah, it was a good answer. Point for the vixen."
She didn't really get to say anything else before she found herself engulfed in a tight, gray hug.
"Dammit, Gabby...I missed you," Jean said, quietly. "Missed both of you. I thought we weren't supposed to see you until tomorrow at 'Parthenon'."
Yohni shrugged and smiled. "I thought you couldn't move, Jean?" she teased. "Anyway, we decided to spend the last of the money from the vacation on paying for all four of us tomorrow, on the expressed condition that Esteban treat us to his famous, homemade tortillas tonight."
Esteban came to the kitchen door and smiled widely. He was wearing an apron. One Jean couldn't remember seeing before. It had some print across it.
"Geeve the lobo a break, no!?"
The vixen looked back at Gabrielle with an almost accusatory expression on her face. She pointed to the wolf and tried to keep a straight face.
"Are you responsible?" she asked.
Gabrielle broke into the biggest smile imaginable and looked so saintly it almost stung one's eyes. "I'm a porn-actress. You're asking me if I'm responsible?" she asked, sweetly.
"The filly equalizes, and the crowd goes wild!" Yohni mumbled next to her girlfriend, before breaking down in giggles.
Jean deflated instantly. She tried to retort, but it was hopeless. Every time she opened her mouth to speak she began laughing again. She might get the better of Gabrielle once in a while, but she knew she'd never be quite as quick witted or as outspoken as the bronco. Finally she managed to stop laughing for long enough to ask her question in a different way:
"Are you responsible for the creation of that apron?"
Gabrielle nodded and smiled. "I am. I've got reason to celebrate. You see, I've had a word with the Boss herself, and she seems interested in helping me get started on a line of clothing. Attitude-wear. T-shirts and tops like the ones I wear. Many of them are custom made anyway. The ones that aren't...well, I can make others. I got the idea when we were in Rome. Mostly thanks to something Yohni said. I had already planned on buying something for Esteban while there, but I guess I had my mind set on some kind of Retiarius-replica or something. Instead, I got them to make that one at a small printers shop."
Esteban positively beamed. "I'm one of a kind. Even my apron ees uneeque," he boasted and shot out his chest.
"Good thing you're unique, too. Imagine having to deal with Jean if she had to share you with anyone?" Yohni asked and leaned back on the couch.
The wolf whined pitifully and tugged tail. "Madre mia..." he whimpered and looked at Jean with big, pleading eyes.
Once again, the vixen broke down in laughter. "I'm not that dangerous!" she protested.
"No, but you'd tell Francois...and he would tell Marie...and SHE EES!" Esteban explained.
Gabrielle blinked and sat up straight. "Wait a minute...Marie? Esteban, did you meet Jean's mom at last? How did that happen?"
Realizing that neither Gabrielle nor Yohni had any way of knowing what had come to pass, Jean took a deep breath to explain. She didn't want to sound too melodramatic, but at the same time, she knew that what had happened recently was a big event. For one thing, it had given her back her mother. She was also aware that it was still a matter of taking small steps, a little at a time, to let Marie adjust...slowly and in her own time. The fact that she had even shown a willingness to do so was a gigantic leap of faith, and Jean wasn't about to squander the opportunity.
"It was actually my mother who called me. I think...it was the whole nine-eleven business that did it. She wanted...to see me," she began, searching for the right words.
Yohni blinked. "Whoa. That's a major change for the better, already there...isn't it?" she asked and looked up at Gabrielle.
The bronco looked like she wanted to say yes, but left it to Jean's judgment to say what was positive and what wasn't.
Esteban smiled, leaning against the doorframe again, crossing his arms over his chest. "We went after Fox and Meereeam got heetched. Eet's just a few days ago, reallee. But eet went...much better than I had hoped. I deedn't get to say much...except to Francois. We males were expelled to the keetchen!"
"Where well you belong!" Gabrielle pointed out, imperiously. "Along with the rest of the servants."
Yohni laughed and swatted Gabrielle's shoulder. "Hey, we know some nice males! Behave. We work with some nice males for that matter."
"And they do serve our every need, don't they?" the filly asked, sticking her nose up in an excellent imitation of her own mother.
Jean smiled and crossed her legs. "It's good to have you back, Gabrielle. I've missed that absolute brattiness of yours. I wonder how you will be when you're in your fifties..."
The bronco wiped her fingernails on her T-shirt with a knowing smile. "Oh, I'll be one of those truly obnoxious older femmes who wear brightly colored clothing, drive motorcycles and refuse to age gracefully because aging ungracefully is a lot more fun!" she said with absolute certainty.
"I look forward to it," Jean added and looked at Esteban. "Couldn't I convince you to possibly, kindly...please make a cup of tea?"
Esteban pondered that a moment. "Well, you ask nicelee enough to make me believe I'm not merelee a servant," he said, then winked and headed into the kitchen to make the requested hot drink.
"How about your job, Jean? You look tired...is everything okay?" Gabrielle asked, suddenly both serious and concerned.
Again, Jean wondered how to describe what was going on. She refused to sound like a whiner, yet the events of the last few days at University was clearly having an effect on her. She did feel tired. Not of her job...not for a moment. More a general weariness at the sheer stupidity of some furs.
"Let's just say I've had a mixed reception," she said and leaned back in her seat. "I am dealing with it though, don't worry. I'll be fine."
Esteban, who had reappeared in the kitchen door, walked up behind Jean's chair and bent down over her, massaging her shoulders a little. The vixen smiled and tipped her head backwards, just in time to receive a peck on her lips by the wolf.
"You're makeeng me proud, Chica. Deed you get to talk to that priest today? You said you might look heem up."
"I did, actually. He turned out to be quite different than I had feared."
Gabrielle blinked. "You?? Of all furs, Jean LeBrun, YOU went to see a PRIEST??"
"Why so surprised, Gabby? I saw a priest while I was hospitalized. I told you about that," Jean asked, smiling.
The equine chuckled. "That's different. According to my brother, you were so doped up on morphine the first few days you barely knew what was real and what was a dream. You can't be held accountable for that."
"By the time that priest came around, Gabby, I was down to taking ordinary aspirin for the pain. It had been several days. I knew what I was doing by then."
"Ah...well, okay. Still, I'm surprised. You've never had a very relaxed relationship with God, that's all."
Jean smiled a little. "Neither have you..."
"I just don't believe he's there, Jean. I don't have a stressy relationship to the church, because I happen to agree with the idea that 'religion is morphine for the masses'," Gabrielle said with a shrug.
"Opium," Jean corrected her. "And I really do need to get you and Lizzy into the same room at some point. Anyway...we haven't told you about the biggest events while you were gone, yet..."
Esteban swallowed and straightened up again. "Mierda..." he muttered and rubbed his face. He knew exactly what Jean was going to talk to the two femmes on the couch about and the memories came back to haunt him, instantly. "Chica, do you mind eef...eef I tell them about thees? I'd like to be the one to do eet myself..." he said, quietly.
Jean shook her head a little in surprise, and looked up at the wolf. "No, I don't mind...but are you sure?"
"Si. I have to do thees."
"I'll go take care of the tea then. You sit down and start."
Esteban nodded and switched places with Jean. He didn't remember to remove the apron. There were other things on his mind as he sighed and collected his thoughts.
"Eet's about Leo and me...and Emma...and death," he began. "And I don't know...how to say eet elegantlee. so I hope you weell...be patient?"
Gabrielle was just about to crack a snappy comment when she saw the look on Esteban's face. Instead, she fell very quiet and just nodded, slipping an arm around Yohni's shoulder to pull the mongoose a little closer against her.
It seemed like the right thing to do.
###
When Lizzy got home, it was to the smell of fresh cooking and the sound of music. She had been delayed at work, and had called home to tell Emma not to wait, but the mink hadn't answered. Instead of getting worried, Lizzy had reasoned that her friend could be out on a quick errand, taking a nap or for that matter, in the bathroom. She had left a message on the answering machine instead, and hung up hoping she wouldn't be kept too long at the consulate.
As it turned out, the meeting she had been required to be on standby for had lasted a grand total of two hours, thirty minutes...and she had spent the time sitting in front of her own computer-screen with absolutely nothing to do. It was part of the job, and the consul had been nice enough to drop by and apologize afterwards. Not to mention she did get paid overtime for that kind of thing. It wasn't bad at all. It was just terribly boring. Now that she was home, however, she was in the mood to enjoy herself a little.
"Hey, Emma...are you in here? Or is it someone else cooking? And if it isn't Emma, who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?" she called out.
"Ahh, you're back. I decided to make dinner. I got your message on the answering machine. Sorry I didn't answer it. I was actually out shopping for this. I was thinking maybe we could go do something fun tomorrow? I don't know...watch a movie or something?" Emma said, coming out of the kitchen, brandishing a large spoon.
Lizzy nodded and smiled. "Sure, I'd love to. I take it you've got some good news since you're in this amazing mood?"
Emma smiled and nodded, swinging her arms out to the side. "Meet the new archivist for the Ohio Historical Society," she grinned. "I got the job...I start on Monday!"
Lizzy looked relieved. It was nothing compared to how relieved she felt on behalf of her friend, however. Emma had desperately needed a real victory in life, and this certainly constituted just that.
"Then we really do have something to celebrate. I don't think just going to the movies will quite cut it, do you?"
Emma grinned. "I'm sure we'll think of something," she said and winked at her friend. "Come on, dinner is ready."
Normally, Lizzy changed clothes as soon as she came home. Tonight, she'd make an exception.