Reflections of Peppy

By Kit Karamak

AKA

Ken Weaver

StarFox, all characters, locations and objects (Arwing, Land Master, GreatFox, etc) are Trademark terms under the Copyright protection of Nintendo, 1993, 1997, 2003, 2005. All Intellectual Properties named hereafter are named for Entertainment Purposes only, and without expressed permission of the granted License of the aforementioned Franchise. You may not sell this story. The storyline (plot) belongs to Kenneth Weaver Junior, but if you were to steal it, who is he to argue, since he cannot copyright someone else's intellectual property, any how. If you do plan to redistribute this story and pretend that it is your own, at least have the decency to fix all my spelling and grammar mistakes, please. This fan fiction is written for the sole purpose of fictional entertainment and amusement; any and all relation to events of the past, present or future is merely coincidental. Wow, this sounds pretty official. NOT!

A/N: I thought that a short story about Peppy in the REFLECTIONS' series would rock. So here we go. I'm starting at Vixy's funeral. Fox is 8, Peppy is 32. Arwings haven't been invented yet; Pilots still fly the M-Class medium fighter (seen at the beginning of SF: Snes). R&R, let me know if I should keep going with this as well...

BTW, Vixy's family name is REINARD. However, there were so many typos in that comic, and the correct word is "reynard" that I just assume he made a typo and I'm going to leave it Reynard for the sake of planetary alignment... Enjoy responsibly!

-kit

PROLOGUE: The Lamenting of the Elderly.

Peppy J. Hare placed the palm of his paw against a glass case in which a set of wooden tobacco pipes rested in silence. His eyes lowered to the bifocal section of his glasses, to better read the small bronze plaque at the bottom. It was a dedication with his name on it; a gift from his Wing Commander. There were four pipes inside. In his other paw was a mug with the letter "P" emblazed upon the side. His deceased wife, Vivian, had helped him to break the habit of smoking cigars in his youth. He changed his speed, taking up the pipes for a while before giving up tobacco all together in favor of caffeine in his later years. Now even his daughter, Lucy, got on his case about the coffee and tea drinking. His attention returned to the antique pipe set and a smile touched the corner of his maw, just remembering his youth, back when Lucy was nothing more than a wicked thought in his head.

He could remember the day that James gave him the set for his birthday. He was thirty-four and James' son was about ten years old. Peppy didn't start using them until he was thirty-eight because he wanted to change his habit of smoking cigars but always kept them in their case in prime condition.

Adjacent to his collection was something far older. It was a team photograph of himself alongside James, Pigma and their engineer, Beltino Toad. He was thirty-three here. Besides that photograph was one a year and a half older. It was the last photograph of Jim and his wife, together. Peppy allowed his eyes to flutter shut. It was all a collection of memories but to Peppy, he could still see their faces and hear their voices when he lay down at night.

Tonight would be no different. Things were a little different now, with Jim's boy having his first major relationship with the slightly younger Extra Terrestrial from Cerinia, Krystal. She was stunning, however. Intelligent, fairly resourceful and a quick learner; she was everything he needed in a vixen. The telepathy was a bonus but she certainly made herself a comfortable spot in the pilot roster.

Peppy could only pray that Fox wouldn't follow completely in his father's paw prints. After all, James McCloud experienced the loss of his life-mate at the overly young age of thirty-one. Fox was only eight years old. That was a day that would live in infamy. It was the immortal day that Jim's son lost his childhood. It was the first day of the ending of an age. It was the beginning of the end for peace on Corneria. It was the day that Doctor Oikonny had lost the last shred of his sanity.

C H A P T E R one

Peppy Hare, James McCloud, his son Fox, their wing mate, Pigma Dengar and the team's engineering specialist, Beltino Toad all stood in silent reverence while the preacher read from the scriptures. Family friend Sergeant Pepper stood to the side, wearing a set of tinted aviator glasses. Across from them was a skulk of Vulpine that Jim recognized as the Reynard family.

The weather had forecasted a cliché funeral rain but a change of direction in the wind last night caused it to be an overly sunny day. For the first time ever, Jim was wearing dark sunshades and Peppy couldn't blame him. His eyes were redder than a cheap drunk from the tears and pilot wished to remain strong for his son.

Peppy's eyes panned across the mourning procession and stopped on a tall, broad shouldered man on the hill, about ten yards away. James saw the doctor as well and Peppy couldn't help but tighten his jaw. Nothing was proven yet but Jim had his suspicions.

Peppy placed a paw on his best friend's arm. In a quiet tone that wouldn't disturb the preacher's speech, he whispered, "Let it be, he's not worth it, Jimmy. Vixy wouldn't want you in a fist fight at her funeral." He spoke the words the way his wife would have said them, had she not been at home, in bed from an intense illness. Peppy tried to empathize what James must have been going through; losing a spouse and fathering a child as a single parent... He could only pray he would never have to endure such a debilitating loss.

"Peppy, Victoria Anne McCloud wouldn't have wanted a funeral," James replied in an equally respectful whisper. "I'm going to say something to him if he doesn't leave soon. He has just as much right to mourn the loss of someone he supposedly gives a damn about, just as much as the rest of us but not while I'm here. I don't care; he was told to stay away from us. I should have filed the restraining order. This is all probably my fault."

"Jim," Peppy scolded. It was just loud enough to cause Pigma and Beltino to look at the two. Little Fox didn't even bother to tear his eyes from the heavy wooded box. It was filled with objects and memorial offerings but there was no body inside; just her wedding dress. The blast left no remains, beyond ashes. It wasn't fair to the boy, Peppy knew as much. He nearly lost his fiancee, Vivian, in an automobile accident last year and knew Fox and James' loss was immeasurable, if not worse. Now an incomplete family was left in the wake of Doctor Oikonny's immature, lethal actions.

If it could be proven, Peppy knew his best friend would press charges as far as they could be taken. He could only hope. Andross Oikonny was an impulsive man and undeserving of the title, 'Weapons and Research Director.' Peppy turned his gaze back to his wing commander and added, "Remember the legalities. Please, have patience."

"I know the legalities," said James. "I'll never give up but remember who I am. I trust my instincts. Remember that, Peppy. Never give up and always trust your instincts. It's my motto; you'd do well to make it your creed, too. I'll give that man five more minutes up on that hill before I go and say something to him."

Peppy cast a nervous gaze over the Reynard family. They would all be appalled if their in-law acted impetuous and immature at Vixy's funeral. She was strongly against violence and this was the wrong time and place to avenge a death, especially since Andross was only a suspect, not a proven murderer. Jim was still pissed.

Peppy was incredibly empathetic to the emotions of others but it didn't take a genius to see that James was beyond seething behind those sunshades. He placed his paw on the fellow pilot's shoulder. "Jimmy. Remember to mind yourself. Do it for Fox; do it for your mother-in-law." Hare's eyes slid across the plot to the Reynard family. Vixy's mom was a diabetic and slowly dying. While robbed of her daughter, she still had a slight comfort in knowing that Vixy was succeeded by a son. It was, however, still tragic; heart breaking to say the least.

Peppy's gaze returned to Doctor Oikonny, up on the hill. Ten yards was far too close for a murder suspect to be to their victim. James was exasperated; Peppy simply shut his eyes and listened to the preacher. He could only pray that Jim would make the right decision. Starting a fist fight with Andross Oikonny would cost him forty-eight hours in the brig, for sure.

The preaching ended. Fox clung to his father as the casket was lowered inch by heart wrenching inch into the depths of the Cornerian soil. It was a grave deeper than comprehension, only bested by the depth of love and heartbreak felt by this family; both sides. James knelt, allowing the eight year old kit to bury his face into his father's neck. Peppy's heart wrenched, seeing the uncomprehending child who had to learn how to deal with this incredible sense of loss and confusion.

The boy was reeling, Peppy could see it plainly. Even Pigma and Beltino struggled to keep the tears away, seeing the small boy struggling with this pain. Jim's soft cobalt eyes were hidden behind those darkly tinted sunshades and something told Peppy that he'd be seeing the black lenses more often. Even though James refused to wear sunshades in the past, it just seemed as though he was more comfortable behind them, now that she was gone.

The preacher gave a nod to James to signal that he was allowed to toss the flower in his left paw into the grave. He brought the stark red rose to his muzzle, brushing the soft, silky petals across his snout. Tears stained his fur, moistening his face just beneath the dark lenses, but there was no time for hesitation. He lifted his paw, tossing the flower forward. It landed in the center of a wreath that was fastened to the top of her casket, then he eased his left arm around his son, holding the boy in a complete embrace.

He was still knelt to Fox's level, but out of the corner of his eyes, he could still see the silhouette of Andross Oikonny. Peppy could see the man's heart growing from broken to cold. There was a hardening of the vulpine pilot's features. Hare reached into his pocket and took out a cigar, clipping off the end with a cutting tool, then flipping it around and putting one end into his teeth.

"Don't be a stupid voop," Peppy warned the fox, narrowing his gaze. He knew that Jim was gazing over his son's shoulder at the man up on the hill. Even with the sunshades to cover his eyes, there was a hateful expression on his muzzle. There was a touch of commotion as the funeral procession began to back away from the grave to allow the cemetery staff to push dirt over the casket but for the moment, James, Fox and Peppy didn't move an inch. There was too much animosity for Jim to budge. If he were to move right now, it would be in the direction of that hill, where Andross stood in silence.

"Fox," James said to his son, "I was wondering if you wanted to stay the night at Beltino's tonight, to play games with Slippy? You're off school 'till the end of the week for bereavement, I don't think Mister Toad minds if you stay. How's that sound?" To his question, young Fox nodded in silence.

James lifted his head so that Beltino was reflected in his shades. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all, Jim. He can ride with me, from here, if you prefer," said Beltino, adjusting his ascot, then reaching to fix his glasses with a nod. James gave Fox a hug then eased him towards Beltino.

Fox turned back to James quickly and whispered into his father's ear, "Be careful, Dad. I know you can beat him, man to man. Just be careful." With that, Fox turned to Beltino, letting himself become ushered away quickly. Peppy shook his head with a sigh, watching James straighten his dress jacket and tie, then begin to ascend the hill, approaching the figure upon it. Thirty feet; ten yards. It was too close, and yet the approach seemed too long, too time consuming.

James placed his paws out, catching Andross in the shoulder, guiding him down the other end of the hill, out of sight of the Reynard family. It was time to personally ascertain Andross' involvement in all of this. Validity of his actions would be garnished in the way he acted or spoke and James knew this. In his eyes, Andross Oikonny was still innocent for another few moments.

"Doctor Oikonny, strange to see you at the funeral, what keeps you so far from the funeral procession? Can't pay your respects at a more personal proximity?" James said in a flat tone. His paws were balled into fists and he refused to remove his sunshades.

"Ah," mused the scientist, "James McCloud. Thirty-one years old, ex-anti-gravity racing pilot. What a boy scout you are, joining the military and becoming a high ranking fighter pilot in a time of peace and prosperity. Aren't we all very proud of you? I don't mourn your losses, McCloud. I only mourn her. I knew not to come near, since you took out a restraining order on me a week into your marriage."

"There's no restraint on those who have passed. You called and emailed her obsessively," James snapped, his ears laying flat. "She was hardly interested in a man who's two feet taller than her, who's married to his work, anyhow."

The two continued down the side of the hill, opposite of Victoria McCloud's grave stone. "My work will be the death of us all, at the rate I'm going. I wish she was around for me to apologize," he said. But in his voice was a sadness of intense guilt. Irony caused him to kill the wrong McCloud. He was obviously devastated. "She would never want the man who took her husband. But if I can't have her, why should you be allowed such an honor?" Wept the gorilla.

James' eyes went wide, even behind his shades Andross could see his brows lift and furrow above the obsidian lenses. McCloud began to shake with rage and from atop the hill, looking down upon the two, Peppy could see every detail of what was about to transpire.

Jim McCloud pivoted on his heel, taking the doctor's collar in his left paw and bringing his right paw into a full swing. The vulpine put his entire body weight behind the strike, landing the blow upon Oikonny's jaw so hard that Andross reeled back hard, completely losing his balance. Nearly three times the weight of James McCloud, the vulpine was so empowered by his adrenaline that he was able to pull Andross back up for another swift strike; fist to face in a catastrophic punch.

"Stupid Voop," Peppy muttered under his breath, watching his team leader pummel the doctor in a way no man Jim's size should have been able to manage. Andross was no pushover, however. The massive frame of a full sized Gorilla was an incredibly formidable foe, grasping at James and trying to throw him to the ground. Jim, however, was not about to let himself become ensnared in those massive palms.

He snapped his leg out, catching the scientist behind his right knee, then head butting the ape in his throat and simultaneously pushing his paws forward, to knock the doctor back before he could grasp the vulpine pilot. Andross groaned miserably, tumbling back. Losing his equilibrium, he hit the ground, rolling another few feet to the bottom of the hill, where the ground flattened out.

James still acted as if his wife was alive. He was on the other end of the hill, where his wife could not see his actions from her grave. The pilot pummeled Andross without mercy, lifting the ape back to his feet, to continue the brawl. His tuxedo jacket ripped at the back, between his shoulders from being over extended by physical exertion. Andross was far from finished and yet he couldn't even get a hit in. For the first time in his life, he felt afraid. Fear touched his heart. His eyes widened and yet his pupils shrank. Fear that he would never see Vixy Reynard again. Fear that her mate would take his life before his work was completed, fear that he would be alone forever.

Most importantly, Andross Oikonny was afraid to die here and now. He'd just committed murder and if his life was brought to an immediate end, he would be denied a favorable position in the after life. He'd already made the decision to figure out how to stay alive forever, to avoid such a fate, but now his life was in jeopardy for the first time. He was scared out of his wits.

He threw his arms up, defensively, trying to ward off James McCloud's volley of fisticuffs. Peppy watched in horror as the ape was beaten into submission, crying out for mercy, shielding his face with his powerful, massive arms. James was hysterical. He lost his sense of reality in this moment, trying to seek justice through means of revenge, anger and frustration. Here was the man that sought to end their marriage by trying to get between a man and his wife, who was now the man who ended their marriage by means of death.

Had James brought a weapon, Andross would be dead. It became obvious that Andross would not be able to defeat James McCloud alone. His drive was incredible. He wanted nothing more than to be vindicated for his actions by taking this moment to the very end. He wanted Doctor Oikonny to be dead in his paws.

Peppy dashed down the hill. There would be no way to continue the investigation if Andross was dead. Two murders don't cancel each other out and right now, Vixy's husband was far from the ability to reason logically.

"Jim!" Peppy shouted, rushing down the hill, trying not to stumble. James lifted his paw, cradling Oikonny's head in his left palm, ready to deliver the final strike. Andross' upper body was in McCloud's lap and the end for the Doctor was near. Everyone knew it. Peppy threw his weight forward, dropping his cigar in the grass. Diving into the fellow pilot, Peppy knocked McCloud to the ground, wrestling him away from Andross.

"He's going to get away!" James shouted in anger. His sunshades never even slipped down his muzzle. Peppy reached up and snatched them from his snout, growling in the vulpine's face.

"Jim," Peppy bellowed, "Knock it off!" He closed his right paw around James' muzzle, holding it shut tightly so that his friend didn't snap instinctively. James was, after all, a man of instincts and proud of that fact. "If you kill him, you both are guilty!"

"I don't care, let me finish the job!" James yelled loud enough for Andross to surly hear.

"If you murder him in cold blood, you'll NEVER see your wife on the other side," Peppy exclaimed, reaching his left paw out to join his right, to force James' muzzle shut so tightly that he couldn't even reply anymore. "Now stop struggling, Jim. There are laws in place to punish men like him. If he's definitely at fault, he'll be victim to the paws of justice; you're supposed to be the cool, composed leader of a fighter squadron, dammit!"

James' only reply was a throaty growl. With two strong paws around his muzzle, he couldn't reply at all. Peppy had his knee on McCloud's chest, holding the man down by keeping him off balance. With the pilot trying to get up, Peppy moved around, placing his other knee on Jim's forehead, perpendicular to his best friend, so that the pilot's face was between the rabbit's knees, using all his weight to keep McCloud's upper body pinned to the grass. Other than kicking wildly, there was nothing the fox could do.

"THINK OF YOUR SON," Peppy erupted. "If you KILL that man, WHO will RAISE your SON!" Those words must have been the antidote to James' rage. He suddenly stopped struggling, growing very still. His family may have not been complete anymore, but he did still have immediate family to consider.

Now Pigma was coming over the hill, to join his squadron. Andross was lying on his side, holding his jaw, which had been broken by the StarFox wing commander. Pigma hooked his fleshy hand under Andross' shoulder, hoisting him up to a sitting position. "Get up, old man. I suggest you get the hell out of here before James finishes what he started; I've never seen him leave business unfinished. C'mon now," said Dengar, helping the Doctor to his feet.

Andross put his hand upon Dengar's shoulder for support, coming to his feet. He leaned forward, so that his head was close to the pig's ear, whispering, "How much money do you want, I'll pay anything for your help."

Dengar turned his head, narrowing his gaze and replying so that only Andross could hear. "You don't have enough money for my price. Now go before he comes to his senses. Peppy can only hold him down so long." With that, Pigma gave Andross a little shove in the other direction. "Go on, now," he said loud enough for the rest of the group to hear him.

Peppy continued to hold James down for another moment until Andross was able to hobble to the automobile down by the road. Peppy turned his head and shouted over his shoulder so that Andross was easily able to hear, "We didn't do this to protect you! We did this so that you go through the proper channels of the justice system. Next time we see you, I won't hold him back, so make sure it doesn't happen again!"

With that, Andross departed, driving the hover-car hard, heading for the cemetery gates, out to the main highway. He wasted no time to get out of the area. Peppy turned back to James, releasing him and sitting back on his haunches. "Damn, Jim. What're you trying to do? Sit in jail? Andross has an investigation but you killing him in the middle of a cemetery doesn't exactly give you the same luxury as him. You'd go right to jail," the rabbit groused.

"I ripped my rental tux jacket, I think," James muttered, placing a paw on his chest, where Peppy's knee had been pressing down so hard, that he had to wonder if he was going to bruise from it.

"Yeah, you sure did," Peppy replied, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a fresh cigar. Same as before, he used a small cutting tool to cut one end, then flipped it about, placing the other end to his lips and lighting the freshly cut flat end. "By the Goddess, Jim. C'mon, let's get you home." He turned to Pigma and nodded respectfully to his team mate. "I'm taking him home; I think we're done for the next two days. I'll talk to the Colonel - you know, John Pepper's uncle; take two days off."

Pigma nodded slowly, "Yeah I think we're all a little burnt. I'm sorry I didn't quite know her as well as you guys did. See you guys on Friday," he said, turning to walk away. Really, he didn't care about Vixy's death. He didn't know the lady and he only met her twice, once at a dinner party when James got promoted, the other time when she came on base to bring her husband lunch.

The cold hard truth was simple: Pigma was more interested in the paycheck than the job. He was more interested in the reward than the co workers, let alone responsibilities involved in his job. With only a few years left, the team was already discussing options to end their military career and go mercenary. It was talks that were in the works, nothing in stone, just yet.

Peppy placed his left paw beneath James' arm, half-way around the fox's waist. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and McCloud was feeling overheated and sick at his stomach. He was getting the shakes and a momentary bout with dizziness was making things complicated. Peppy rolled the cigar across his teeth, so that it was on the other side of his maw, away from James.

"I've got to hand it to you though," Peppy said with a nervous chuckle. "You kicked his tail, Jim."

A droll nod was the reply, but as James thought about it, it was the first time that Peppy actually made a comment like that. A grin began to tug at the corner of his muzzle and that began to melt into a smile. A chuckle suddenly erupted from the wing commander and Peppy broke into soft laughter as well.

"Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?" James mused, half clinging to Peppy until the junkie buzz-kill sensation passed. The two friends laughed softly about it, while heading through the grass, back across the cemetery to where they'd parked. The procession of vehicles had half departed, heading for a memorial service for the Reynard family. James swayed back towards the grave of his wife, wanting a personal word first.

Peppy guided him towards the grave, then stood back to watch. McCloud knelt down by the half filled hole, while a man in a backhoe worked dirt over the grave, occasionally using the back of the scoop to pack the dirt.

"I kept my vows," Jim began. "To have and to hold, I recall having my wife every morning and night. When we didn't make love, I held you dearly. For rich or for poor, I recall when we were first married, before Fox was born. You stood by me while I worked through the ranks until I was finally making real money. We were so strong, together. In sickness and in health; it was my esteemed pleasure to get up at 3 am and hunt down the food of your craving while you were pregnant. Nothing gave me more pleasure than to be your husband," he continued, breaking into a lachrymal voice, but clearly enunciating each word even through the break in his usually confident tone.

Peppy remained silent. The hare tightened his fists, watching his best friend pour his heart out to his wife's empty grave. He spoke as if she was there and he spoke out loud as if she was alive to hear it. "Victoria," James continued, "Vixy," he then said, so that his words to her were more personal, "I love you. I'll love you even after death brought us to part. But promise me you'll always walk by my side so that we can both provide for our son, I can't do it alone; it wouldn't be fair to do it alone, not for him. No boy should be raised by just one, unless it's all that parent can provide. I know you'll help me. I know you'll watch over us... I love you so much," he sobbed, tears welling up in his eyes.

He fought to keep them from spilling out. He looked down at his left paw, where Peppy had placed the sunshades back into his possession some time after the fight. He didn't even remember when it happened, exactly. They just sort of appeared there. He placed them upon his muzzle and yet teardrops spilled down beneath the ebony lenses, saturating his fur.

He crawled forward, once the backhoe began to pull back. He crawled in pity through the dirt knowing there was no one beneath the grave to disrespect by this action. He embraced the cold hard tombstone, which scratched his face. He scraped his wrists and neck, pressing himself against the stone, the way he once embraced his wife.

"I held her this way, the morning before she died. We spent over an hour in our bed as man and wife," James wept pitifully. "We were invincible and never ending on that day; I wish it was me, but I would never want her to be alone. I would never want her to raise Fox as a single mother or be kneeling here with her heart broken. Why did this have to happen?" he demanded; words muffled against the cold, unloving stone in which his face was tightly pressed.

"Why does the picture-perfect family always become the doomed family!" he said, drawing his left paw back, ready to strike the stone. Peppy wanted to run forward to grab him by the arm, but at the same time, had the respect to leave James to his grieving. "Why does this sort of thing always happen to the couple who never argued, never disagreed, and never had any problems! Why does the world always throw misery at the happy!" He wailed in a guttural plea of knowledge from the Almighty.

"James," Peppy scolded, "It's a test of our faith and our will. She was needed in the afterlife; it's the only way she'll be with you at the hour of our most important accomplishments. I can't let you blame the Creator," he said, shaking his head. The thirty-two year old rabbit took the cigar from his lips, lifting one foot to put the stogie out against his heel, then folded his arms with a sigh.

James struck the grave stone again, bruising and scraping his knuckles, beneath the fur of his paw. His next word was the vituperative utterance of obscenity. The softly muttered curse caused Peppy to frown. It was rare that James lowered himself to simple swearing. The break in his will caused Peppy's heart to break a little more, watching his best friend in such anguish.

"Peppy...?" James' voice was weak, melancholy. Peppy approached his friend, kneeling besides him, and putting his arm around the pilot. "Peppy, you're my boy's God Father. Please, I need help raising him, I can't do it alone. He needs two parents, that's what's natural," he moaned softly, lifting the sunshades to wipe his eyes with the back side of his left paw.

"Jim," Peppy eased into an off balance hug, since the vulpine was still clinging to the concrete grave marker, with his face still pressed to the epitaph. The wing commander's body was aching, his chest was heaving and yet he didn't care. The intransigent, cold rock against his fur and flesh was still closer to his wife than anything else could bring him at this moment. He felt crushed inside.

Peppy gently pried him away from the stone, pulling the sobbing shell-of-a-man to his feet. "Incomplete," James muttered to his friend. "I'm incomplete and it's all Oikonny's fault."

"Yes but today wasn't the time to get vengeance," Peppy said with a sigh, "Don't make revenge a form of fuel. Base his punishment on something less emotional. You can feel vindicated after it's said and done."

"But I'm," James just dropped his head. After a moment of awkward silence, he cleared his throat and continued, "What am I going to do? Where do I go from here? What happens now?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or the opinion of your friend?" Peppy asked politely.

"Be honest," James demanded with an almost callous voice.

"Call your lawyer. You just beat the snot out of another man, who's not legally been proven guilty, yet. Call your lawyer and be ready in case he tries to press charges," Peppy grunted with a frown. "C'mon Jim, let's get you home," Peppy said, taking his friend across the grass towards the last remaining automobile that was part of a long line of cars only an hour prior.

"And what am I going to do about Fox?" James shook his head with a sigh.

Peppy hugged his friend tightly, then opened the passenger door for him. "Impress your wife; she's watching from above, do your best. She'll be standing besides you when you need that extra help. Other than that, all you can do is pray for Luck's Paw."

James slipped into the passenger seat, pulled the door shut, replaced his sunshades and reclined the seat a little bit. His eyes fluttered shut and he tried to relax his body. His muscles were aching. His joints were screaming. The scratches on his face, wrists and forearms even hurt to some extent. He would surely need some aspirin and caffeine to rush the pain relief, followed by a shot or two of bourbon to take the edge off the pain in his heart. After all, Fox was staying the night with his school friend, Beltino's son. Tonight would be the night to drink responsibly or, for that matter, irresponsibly.

A/N: There's a lot more I can do with this story, starting from here and running until the day Fox proposes to Krystal. Don't expect a chapter a day on this one until heck, I dunno... when my other "Reflections" stories are finished. :) I hope you all enjoy it, thus far. It should be interesting to see the world through the eyes of a young man, a middle aged man and an old man. Let me know if I should keep going with this one or if it's a lame idea... since everyone keeps writing stories about James, I figured writing one about Peppy would be more unique.

:D

-Kit