Chapter 2
Out of the frying pan, into the fire
Fox McCloud nursed the stiff drink he held gingerly. He always knew himself to be a cheap drunk, and he didn't want to stagger back home that night. Besides, he used to drink the hard stuff like this before the events of late, back when he was trying to impress every little vixen wearing a skirt. No, he wouldn't drink himself under the table, despite the good spirits he was in, with the Aparoid threat neutralized. Now, he finally had time to relax, take some time for himself.
Spend some time with Krystal.
Just thinking her name brought a smile to Fox's face. Not a day went by when she crossed his mind, no battle where he glanced to his port side wing to make sure that Arwing was all right. She was always the one he streaked to help first, if some cocky enemy thought she'd make a prime target. Hell, she'd even secured a picture by his bed, next to his service pistol and the holo of his dad.
It was quite a feeling he felt, this attraction he had for Krystal. She'd barged through the armor he'd erected over his heart, as if she'd been manning a Landmaster and had evidently decided to stay. There was always something about the way her eyes gleamed when she gave him one of those coy, sultry, over-the-shoulder smiles that made his stomach flutter.
Ah, hell. Fox thought. Only one shot at life. He raised his glass and muttered "To Krystal..." and downed it.
Given his relative inexperience with alcohol, (Probably cause I'm such a damn prude, Fox thought self-depreciatingly.) his throat burned and he just about coughed the whole damn glass back up. How bad would that have looked, the valiant Fox McCloud who defeated Andross, Andrew Oikonny, General Scales and the Aparoids, can't even hold his liquor? Never mind how bad it would look, how bad it would feel! It burned bad enough the first time down.
Fox sucked in a careful breath and walked out of the bar. He'd reached his limit and he would now walk back home. Besides, it was a beautiful night outside. And where he was going, you'd get a great view of the river.
Fox threw on his windbreaker and started walking. He was halfway home when he saw a face he never thought to see again in a while.
His fur was a bit cleaner, but longer than Fox remembered, especially around his jowls. He looked strange without his standard Cornerian flightsuit, but then Fox probably looked the same without his headset. A smile crossed the old dog's face as he recognized Fox as well.
"Bill Gray!" He shouted, grinning broadly.
"Foxie!" Bill extended his hand and grasped Fox's warmly, firmly, as a man does. But the reunion didn't stop there. For with Bill was a face Fox hadn't seen in a much longer time that the Battle of Katina.
The lady beside him was a Fichinan Tigress, very white with black stripes that seemed to suit her very well. (Some how that always seemed to go with tigresses...) Her forget-me-not blue eyes glittered with the reflection of a nearby light standard, framed behind her slightly curved glasses. She wore very plain clothes, if not a bit overzealous with the black. She wore her long black hair in a ponytail, which seemed to make her "lucky round face" as the Saurians would have labeled it, more prominent. Despite the bangs she had that, in Fox's opinion, would have looked much better if she wore her hair down.
Fox thought Bill was lucky to have such a pretty girl on his arm. For a brief moment, he thought of maybe trying to whisk her away for a drink to get to know her. But he already knew her, from years back. They hadn't even talked since Fox had left for the Cornerian Flight Academy. But here she was. Fox's old classmate, Kala Nag. Fox was impressed with his long term memory, remembering that she changed her name back to her mother's maiden name rather that the Wallace that had been imposed upon her since her parents' marriage.
"Fox!" She beamed, evidently remembering him as well. "God, it's been... years!"
"Good to see you again, Kala." Fox said, wrapping his arms around her in a friendly hug that turned into a big squeeze. "How've you been?"
"I've been okay," Kala smiled. "But you, you've gone and become a hero!"
"Ahh, wasn't much." Fox said. "What's a few dogfights over Venom and Fortuna, anyway?"
"You two know each other?" Bill asked, an eyebrow cocked.
"We knew each other in school," Kala explained. "How many years now?"
"To many to count." Fox shook his head. He'd never been good with number, whether it be years, math equations or keeping track of his kills in the cockpit. Those types of things he left to computers. "We all should get together for a drink, or lunch or something. To catch up on old times."
"Sure." Bill said. "Day after tomorrow, Michaels?"
Damn. Fox thought. That was where he was going to take Krystal for lunch on that same day. All he had to do was ask her. But these were old friends he was talking about, people who he missed and deserved his time, not just a rude brush off the shoulder. Even if it was for Krystal.
"I'll see." Fox said. "I'll have to check my calender."
Bill nodded and Fox received both of their respective contact numbers, which he promised to call should he not be able to make it with Krystal.
Then, as they went their separate ways, Kala called back "It's wonderful to see you again, Fox."
"Great to see you too." Fox replied, and stood there only for a moment looking at their retreating backs. He smiled, happy for his two good friends that had begun a relationship. They were a good match, Bill and Kala.
Now, if only he could have that same thing with Krystal.
---
Fox slept well that night, waking up on his own time. None of this soul-eroding call to battle stations at the wee hours of the night he had been accustomed to. His day started off just right with a glance at the photo of Krystal he had beside his bed.
Little did he know, that this day would shake him to his very foundations. It wasn't anything he could blame on supply issues, or even his friends.
It was something that hurt him deeply, that burned deeper than any blaster shot. Something for which there is no adequate defense for.
An attack on the heart.
Fox jauntily almost skipped down the stairs after some careful deliberation, rehearsal and pacing in his room. He finally worked out what he was going to say to Krystal, just the right words that would make her say "Yes" to him.
And then, at 10:34 in the morning, his life and attitude changed.
He walked into the lounge of the apartment complex that housed him and the rest of the team, where he began to say what he meant to.
He got as far as "Krystal---" when he saw something terrible.
Krystal was there, seated at a table, with a handsome Doberman with a spiked collar and a build that looked like he could have even taken Wolf O'Donnell to the cleaners. And they sat, in close proximity. Too close for Fox's comfort, as she had her arms around his neck, he lips pressed against his in a soft, tender embrace.
Fox's knees buckled. His tongue felt fat in his mouth. His stomach fell into the soles of his boots. And his heart stretched to the breaking point, before developing a slight tear, which caused a chain reaction that left it in two fractured halves.
"Oh, hello Fox." Krystal said, looking up, a smile splayed across her face. That tender, beautiful smile that Fox came to love. Dammit, how could she be so happy while I'm here in agony?!
"This is Murray." She indicated to the monster of a Doberman beside her, who merely grunted. In a fit of extreme jealousy, Fox thought that was the extent of his vocabulary. What was so great about him? What's wrong with me!
"You all right Fox?" She asked, cocking her head to one side, either cruelly taunting his pain, or actually in the dark. Either one would have hurt just as much. Fox wanted to scream at her about how he felt, wanted to wring this Murray fellow's neck and make Krystal his own. But all that came out was "Yeah, I- I guess."
"You looked like you were going to say something," Krystal said, curiously.
"N-No." Fox stammered. "I have to go."
It was an awkward end to that butchered conversation, but Fox had to get out of there. He didn't remember allowing his legs to move, but he was traveling, barely seeing anything as he went by.
But he did hear what was said about him.
"What a twerp."
"Yeah," was Krystal's reply. "He's good in his cockpit, but that's about it."
Fox felt tears stinging his eyes. Tears of hurt, frustration and anger. He leaped back up to the sanctuary of his room, and locked the door. He went the whole day without eating, sleeping or even talking to anyone else. He heard the comm beep for him several times, but let the answering program take care of it. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to see anyone.
It was damn ironic that he always had to have this bad luck dumped on him. It was as he heard from someone a long time ago, when he broke a jar of jam on the kitchen floor. He was four.
Everything can be fixed except a broken heart. That takes time.
Those words brought little comfort, and a fresh bout of pain he thought he'd conquered. wish you were here, Dad. He thought. I miss you, so much...
But Fox knew that all he had was himself. No warm vixen to snuggle with and love at night, as he dreamed of. No father to guide him through the trails that would befit an adolescence he never had.
All he had were his tears and his jealous fantasies to gnaw on. And the self depreciating thoughts of what was wrong with him. And the broken memories of Krystal, the way he remembered her, to comfort and torment him through his dreamless, restless sleep.
End of chapter
