A/N: Hello out there in Fanfiction world! I am back after a lazy spell and finally came to update this story that has been in the back of my mind since…I can remember? As a side note, big ups to OBAMA '08! Obama has made history and I am so proud of my man for doing that. He is going to be a GREAT president. And for all those who are not natives of America, this is a historic moment for the United States people. A black man is president. I am so proud of him.

Anyway, back to the story. Big ups to Icy Knuckles for putting me on his profile, mad love for you man.

Knuckles

Bustling waiters and waitresses scattered around the eventful dining room floor as they carried glistening silver trays and countless of gold plated platters filled with the very epitome of edible luxury for the ones who could afford it. Steaks galore and steamed lobster bisque was one of the chef's specialty dishes for the day and it seemed as if everyone was in dire need for a taste of the highly accredited dish, including Julie-Su. Her eyes would glow brightly with enthusiasm and delight, outshining the brightest star each time a round of maître d's would near our table with the temptation of food; only to pull away and head off into another direction like they were using her hunger for pure enjoyment. Her cutesy pout that would always come after the tantalizing display of hunger foreplay would always bring soft giggles to the self-invited feline and me. Rouge, however, remained quiet, unusually quiet for a lady of her standing. It made me…curious.

"She is so adorable Knuckles." Avarice beamed out for the upteenth with a smile and a small tug of Julie-Su's pony tail. The enchinada's small locks cascaded lightly from side-to-side as they felt the tender touch of the cats freshly manicured pawed finger. "She looks just like you."

I chuckled and lifted my half-laced wine glass, bringing the crystal goblet to my lips and never taking my eyes off the sensuous bat before me. Her mascara draped eyelashes danced softly every time she blinked. "Thanks Avarice."

"How old is she?"

"Five."

"Adorable!" She squealed and began pinching the girls round and chubby cheeks, similar to an elderly woman gawking over a newborn baby. "I bet she is a big girl. Five is one of the best numbers out there!"

"I am." Julie beamed proudly. "I am almost grown."

Avarice nodded, giggled, and smiled as she kept playing with the young enchinada's hair tendrils as if they were foreign objects she never had the pleasure of seeing before. It was similar to witnessing a sugar-craved kid in a candy store filled with the decedent sweets their little hearts desired. I smiled once or twice in between my silent glances over to the secluded jewel-thief seductress herself. Her hushed demeanor wasn't the typical aura I was expecting from her. She was the type to get loud and obnoxiously annoying after one too many drinks. The silent treatment she proposed wasn't playing well in her favor because it only heightened my inquisition even more. Could she have been…mad?

"Batgirl…" her head shot up with haste, the spoon she had been twirling for the past five minutes now put to a complete halt in seconds. "You are awfully quiet."

"Nothing to say really." she was outright and blunt, voice laced with satire as well as evident bitterness. "Nothing to talk about either."

That was a lie. Rouge not having anything to say? That is the equivalent to preaching that Sonic the hedgehog was a fat-ass. It will never be true. "Really now?" I arched a thick eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest, sitting back into the nicely clothes table booth and positioning myself for a much more comfortable position. "So you aren't upset that I have a kid?"

Judging by her facial expression, that question caught her off guard and left her true feelings and motives out in the open. Small seas of crimson flushed to her smooth and flawless cheeks as her eyes cast their impotent gaze downward onto the granite dinner table, focusing their new position on the straw bread basket that sat in the middle of the large sphere elegantly. She swallowed hard and finally spoke. "It's not…..just that Knuckles."

"So what else is bothering you?" I needed to know. The whole time we have been here as been nothing but talk of Julie-Su and how "adorably adorable" she was. It was growing tiresome. "We are two adults."

"Knuckles please don't begin to compare me to a child. We will begin to have problems."

"I never compared you to a child Rouge. You said that, not me."

"You implied it Knucklehead, so watch what the hell you say."

I smirked and gave her a lustful look that had her heated disposition calm and simmer down to something mellower. Her flushed cheeks brightened even more as her anger showed through the small twitches atop of her ears. That was the Rouge I knew. "Feisty are we?"

"Don't play coy. I just cannot believe you show up late and, on top of that, bring a damn child."

"Her mother left her with me, Rouge. What was I supposed to do?"

"Leave her with the woman that birthed her is one suggestion!" Her voice grew louder as the decibel volume corresponded along with it respectively. Side glances were thrown our way as attention became ours to entertain. "You make me feel as if you were standing me up, then you tell your daughter to come and meet me like I knew her, and now you have the nerve to think everything is alright? You never TOLD me you had a baby, Knuckles. Never have you told me."

"I don't have to explain anything to you, Batgirl." I scoffed slightly and began to twirl my silver and platinum class on my left finger with ease. The light reflecting off of the metal band made a shining glare in the bat's face and blinded her temporarily. "We are not dating and aren't even close enough to be titled as friends. I don't have to explain myself to you."

Her breath became trapped in her throat in a heartbeat, hands grasping the cool mineral coated table until her knuckles went white as snow, ry and calloused like the Siberian Dessert; blood rushing to her face as that signature scowl played along her lips menicingly in anger. That got her. "No shit, asshole. I know we aren't dating but common courtesy would have called to inform about a late arrival and the unexpected bringing of a goddamn child!"

"Why are so you frustrated?" My tone kept its usual stoic composure but hers heightened to the occasion. "This is a simple "gathering"."

"Gathering my ass Knucklehead. You practically pleaded for this to happen."

"If I recall correctly" I abruptly stopped and moved a single crimson tendril from my face, "You invited me. Not the other way around."

"You were silently pleading."

"So you are a mind reader?"

"Body language interpreter is more matter-of-fact."

I chuckled. "So you think I want you?"

She grinned. "Never said that."

"Insinuated it, however." I corrected with a tone that showed my lack of interest in an argument that was already won. "You were practically throwing yourself at me."

Check.

"You aren't anything to want."

"But I am something you wish to have."

Mate.

Silence rendered the room as the small shuffling of random pairs of feet scurried across the carpet like overgrown rats, obnoxiously screeching car horns honking, the reverbration of rubber wheels hitting paved cement, and the scattered cynical whispers of our "auidence", remaind the only sources of sound- faint and almost inaudible.

A waitress cleared her throat lowly as she hovered over the dinner table with intense height and authoritative aura. She was at least five foot ten and had the body of a musculine male wolf. Setting down four sets of steaming silver trays before the Rouge, Avarice, Julie-Su, and myself, she nodded and spoke softly.

"Your...lunch. Enjoy."

It was the end of the conversation, but my indefinate eye-contact with Rouge herself kept the tension alive and well.

Amber-Lynn

My hair and fur are damp with god knows what while my clothes are smelling like strong alcohol and stale cigarette smoke. I awoke to the sound of a loud crash and found out moments later that it was the overly massive television set that had fallen from atop of the Entertainment center near the living room and onto the freshly waxed hardwood floor; along with countless of glass flutes filled with liquid toxins from the previous night and dirtied ceramic plates. Apparently, the guy who inivted me over to his party the evening before had a wife who came home early for some much needed rest after an unexpected layoff- so what I heard from the trickling down of information from the grapevine. The man was a very attractive fox with the age of about thirty. He came to the 'club after a long day at the office and found himself ordering one too many drinks, thus ending up meeting and paying me to give him unlimited access to the "goods". Judging by the harsh screams and swears thrown from both parties with the occasional clamor of metal or glass hitting drywall, things were not going so well for the elder kitsune.

With every ounce of willpower I had in me, I lifted myself from off the cool olive-green carpeted beddroom floor; finding myself with nothing but a ripped halter that exposed one of my breasts with the-now- tattered leather mini-skirt I wore the night before. My hair was disarrayed and my makeup was smudged and running down my cheeks in crooked lines. I knew why but the thought of what happened last night killed me. I had no ounce of self-respect and today's reality proved it.

A calloused knock came to the door as the booming voice of the angry wife cascaded throughout. She was threatening anyone who was in there to hurry and leave before she came in and killed them all with a chainsaw. Honestly, I didn't think she would kill me with a chainsaw, but did not have the audacity to underestimate the ferocity of a woman's scorn. I know from personal experience how things go down when a woman comes home only to find her "faithful" boyfriend inbetween the legs of another. It's a painful experience, but not enough to drive me to kill the bitch myself. I let the bleach I put in her gas tank do that.

She knocked on the door again and gave me a five minute grace period to leave her house. Catching my eye was another girl whohad immediately rushed out of the bathroom shower naked, rushing to put on clothes and shoes in order to spare her life. Like clock work, other females come coming out of miscellanious corners of the large room, all naked and/or full of the smell of sex, to dress and leave. I counted and, including myself, it was twenty women filled in a room suited for no more than ten. All hookers, all hoes.

"Hey" one startled me by putting her hand on my left shoulder. I cringed at the sight of her dirtied fingers. "You got a smoke?"

I nodded "no" and she went to go ask someone else. I watched in awe as I observed the women hurrily dress and groom, some already rushing out the door past the angry wife and the fearful fox that once filled us all, some jumping out the opened side window that was used for immediate ventelation of the odor of ass and fungus. Coming into the room, another kitsune, this one female and younger- age of about twenty to twenty-three, came in with a butcher knife that, just the sight of the metalic blade kissing the harsh glare of sunlight, erupted fits of pure terror. I was one of them and found myself looking as the open window as my only option for escape from death. I took it quickly and found myself in a pile of scattered clothes and shoes that belonged to the husband in the front lawn. Now I was officaially worthless. I have no car, no money on me, and no home to go to since I got kicked out of my sister's for mooching.

Taking out a quarter from my skirt pocket, a ray of hope shone brightly on me as the sounds of distress danced around the neighborhood. If there is one person who can help me, it is my brother. He may hate me for my profession, but we are still family. He told me that himself. I just hoped he was not too busy working and had time to talk to his little sister for a small favor.

A/N: Yes, I know. Nothing TOO eventful but I have my little plot bunnies working extra hard. Much love to the fans and readers. Ciao.