[A/N]

Henlo :3

Thanks for sticking with this story, everyone! It's thanks to your support that I find the energy and motivation to keep going with this. This story is deeply precious to me, and I hope you are enjoying it so far. There's a lot of ground to cover and this slow burn is just starting to get some small sparks going.

There's a lot of internalized homophobia, depression, and unhealthy coping mechanisms here. Please be advised. But they'll smooch some day. I promise.

My updates are slow, but this time it was not THAT slow, was it? Haha. Ha... Don't answer that.

[A/N end]

And what is a Wolf to a Fox?

When did it start? The bothersome tugging at the edge of his consciousness that drove his every action. That voice that told him he was not good enough, over and over. Where did it come from?

His eyes hurt from dried tears. His scowl deep above his eyes — he still had both of them. Clenched teeth ready to snap at a moment's notice. And it was so bright it was hard to look where he was going without his migraine pounding on his temples.

The fiery red of autumn was ever present in the woods as the wind rustled the leaves in unsteady gusts. But his insides burned brighter than any fall could ever be. The foliage protested with deafeningly loud crunches as his boots crushed it over and over.

"He has no right, no right!"

Growled low curses escaped between his fangs. There was no one around to hear them, but they needed to be uttered — no, screamed!

"FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT—!"

"BASTARD FUCK-FACE—!"

"GO GET DEAD YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE—!"

The profanity rang in his ears with satisfaction as his breath ran out. It was not nearly enough to appease his nerves, but more shouting would not help him any further. He needed—

"Woah, you OK there?"

Fuck, there was someone there. But where? He was positive he was not followed — no, he would have caught their scent. And that voice! It sounded almost like—

"Up here."

Without a second thought he looked up. Upon a thick tree's branch, well over three metres above the ground, lay a fox. A young and lean fox, with a cadet uniform. A freshman.

"'Thought I was alone," he explained in an embarrassed mutter.

The fox chuckled and his fluffy orange tail swished with amusement. "Yeah, me too. Scared the shit out of me."

"What're you doing here?" he asked the fox, "These woods are off-limits as far as I know." But the fox probably knew that. It was almost the end of the year — even if he was freshman, he would have had many months to have learned all the most basic rules of the Academy.

"Hiding. You too, I assume?"

Not exactly, but close enough. "I guess."

The fox took the beat of silence to stretch and change positions. His bright orange tail swished in a lazy rhythm of mischief — a pendulum that pulled his stare with its swift movements. Left and right, slow and relaxed.

He hated it.

"Well, you can hang around if you want," said the fox, his interest lost. "Just don't scream again, alright?"

"What are you hiding from?" he questioned the fox.

"People."

"And I'm not people?"

"Hah. Very funny," the fox mocked, "Do you want to start a silly fight for territory in the middle of the woods in which we are both not supposed to be in?"

He rolled his eyes. What an obnoxious brat. Maybe it was best if he found himself another hidden corner of the woods to cool off, since his usual spot was now... unusually occupied.

Who was this guy anyway? No one ever ventured those woods this early in the morning besides him. At the very least he had never seen anyone there at such hours before. How careless of him to let a fox's smell pass unnoticed.

Well, he had a good excuse, though. His mind was still overwhelmed with that other fox's smell. That fucking bastard—

"My dad is being dispatched to some mission today. Again."

His ears perked. His dad? Today? It had to be a coincidence. Had he stumbled upon that kid, out of all the possible people he could find?

And the fox continued, unprompted: "Everyone is saluting him, giving him the hero treatment and whatever. And everyone wants me to do the same." The fox paused to gesture a dramatic eye-roll and a deep sigh. "An idiot is what he is. A fucking dumbass."

With an eyebrow raised in confusion at the rant, he listened with care. Maybe that kid was not so bad after all.

"McCloud is an idiot," he agreed.

The fox stopped and stared back at him. Surprised at the agreement — perhaps offended. But he was too curious and too angry with the man in question to hold back his tongue.

"You met him then?" the fox asked. "James, I mean."

"Yes, he's—" Well, that was awkward. "He's my teacher."

Now there shivering on the floor with his face hidden in between his own knees. Wolf could see that same fox. A completely different kid — well, not a kid anymore. Not after the Lylat Wars. Not after James died. It had changed Wolf, in more ways than one. Stands to reason it would change even Fox McCloud.

Wolf had not imagined it would change him in this direction, however.

"Don't you ever do that again," he growled, "Nearly gave me a heart attack."

'That' was jumping off a cliff — literally. Fox had minutes ago jumped that deadly twenty-metre drop on the other side of the guardrail next to the two of them. Wolf had caught him just in time, almost falling down himself.

But Fox was not listening to him right now — he was too engulfed in his own broken psyche. It was pitiful, really.

More than that, it was wrong. Wolf could not describe precisely what about it bothered him so much, but he felt compelled to do something. Anything. So when Fox's quiet shivering became quieter still, Wolf finally asked:

"What's on your mind, pup?"

The answer did not come immediately. Fox's breathing changed, but Wolf did not press. He needed a moment to recompose himself, Wolf figured.

Finally, after long minutes of silence, Fox straightened his back and lowered his legs. With his fur matted around his closed eyes, he took one last long breath and sat cross-legged.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

Wolf scoffed. "Apology not accepted."

The antagonistic answer managed to make Fox's eyes open — bloodshot red and confused.

"You nearly killed the best pilot in the Lylat System. There's no forgiving that. If anyone's killing you, it's me."

That line was getting old, even for him. Panther had been calling him out on it for months now. The truth was that there was an inexplicable pull coming from Fox that Wolf could not help but follow. And without it, Wolf would not be so sure of who he was anymore.

He could never kill Fox. But he would never admit that. Not to anyone.

With his incredulity still written on his face, Fox's eyes began to shine with a different emotion. "Thanks?"

Wolf let a smirk form on his lips. "That's better."

At last, Fox smiled. It was a shy and quick quirk of the corners of his mouth, but a smile nonetheless. "I haven't been myself lately."

Well, no shit. Despite their distance in the past years, Wolf knew Fox. He knew that snarky and stubborn rebellious teenager he had once met in those woods — and the fierce pilot who had shot him down on Venom. And that man was not anything like the broken husk in front of him. He could not even begin to imagine how this frail whimpering figure could somehow be Fox McCloud.

Still, time changes things. Fox had lived a life Wolf was entirely oblivious about since the Lylat Wars. Sure, he could summarize it as 'being Corneria's little pet' like he usually did, but even in such a position a man could change a lot.

Wolf himself had changed a lot in all that time.

"And what are you actually like then?" asked Wolf, cursing his voice for betraying more curiosity than intended. He really wanted to know — and there was so much to know — about Fox McCloud.

"I-I don't know, honestly," answered Fox, "Things have just been... too much lately. I fear I'm forgetting how to be me."

And to be Fox McCloud was not a simple thing, mused Wolf. It was such an unique set of characteristics, elusive to put in practice for anyone but Fox himself. If Fox truly forgot how to be himself, no one could ever replace him. There would simply be no more Fox McCloud in the universe.

The thought slithered cold and shivering through Wolf's spine.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," decided Wolf, "Not until you get back to your team."

Fox rolled his eyes, humour coming back to his face even if just for a moment."I'm fine," he insisted — or rather, blatantly lied, — "I don't need a babysitter."

"I don't care." Wolf's smirk grew as he knew Fox's stubbornness had not yet died. "I have to keep an eye on you anyway. Star Fox is not exactly known to be a friend of the colonies I frequent."

Fox sighed in resignation. "So," prompted Fox while pinching the bridge of his nose, "Are we going to sit here all evening or...?"

Wolf let out an amused snort. "I could use a drink, to be honest. Today has been — what was it you said? — too much."

He let out the part that for him it had been mostly boring rather than actually hard. At least until Fox had showed up. Wolf considered that maybe he was lucky he found Fox up on a slow day like this. Otherwise Wolf would have had a splitting migraine trying to juggle running a colony and dealing with Star Fox.

Fox's ears perked up and his eyes shone again with that intense light behind them that made Wolf's neck fur stand on end. The cogs of his mind worked in ways Wolf could only imagine as he sat there in silence pondering an answer. And finally, the corner of his mouth quirked into a shy smile once more.

"Me too, honestly."

He was still there — Fox was still somewhere inside that vessel with slumped shoulders and dishevelled fur. And Wolf was determined to see Fox take the reins of his own self once more.

This place was beyond her wildest imagination. Everywhere she looked there were people from every corner of Lylat. Primates and reptiles among canines, felines, and avians; it was truly a wonder to see. Corneria City had only ever been so... homogeneous.

Miyu had told her stories of this place, but seeing it first hand was quite something else. An entire city, in the middle of space! A marvel of engineering, an exceptional feat of technology, and she was already dying to find out more — she simply had to petition Krystal to show her around at a later date!

Fay let out a sigh. At last she was safe. And soon, she was to be reunited with the most amazing person she had ever met in her life. It felt too good to be true. At some point the other shoe was going to drop, a disaster would occur, or worse yet — her father would find her.

She shivered — there was no point in ruining her walk with thoughts of him. Instead, she chose to focus on wandering through the streets of the communal floor, checking the local shops, restaurants — they had it all!

The streets were much tighter than the wide highways of Corneria — after all, no vehicles coursed them. It was a whole new experience for her to walk alone in such a foreign land, with such foreign architecture. Was it Macbethian industrialism? Or maybe it was Zonessian classic urbanism?

But well, despite being a city it was not nearly as big as one. Perhaps 'town' was a more accurate name to describe it. One could walk around the entire place in under an hour. It could hardly be called big compared to an actual in-planet city.

But still! To have local commerce, eateries, and even entertainment — it was beyond what one would imagine a space colony to look like. If only Miyu was accompanying her at that very moment, she could ask all sorts of—

"Permiso, señorita—"

A large and firm torso collided with her snout and she yelped with a start. So distracted she was prancing around and daydreaming she did not notice the very tall man with whom her face had just had the displeasure to meet.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she quickly apologized, "I was not looking. My apologies."

The man was a large black cat. No — a jaguar, perhaps? His smoky white dress shirt had the upper two buttons undone and a rose sat in his chest pocket — luckily still intact despite the close encounter with Fay's snout. "It is of no concern, señorita," he replied with a curt bow. "If I may be so bold as to ask, are you Krystal's... guest?"

Fay froze. Surely he was not one of her father's henchmen, was he? No, he could not possibly be — he had mentioned Krystal. And she had arrived not a day ago — well, artificial day anyway; what was the name of it again? A cycle? — and Krystal had assured her the station was well hidden from Corneria. Unless the vixen had double-crossed her. But that would make no sense, right?

In any case, this large man was too intimidating to not doubt her situation. Maybe he was a mugger — well, an unusually well dressed mugger. But if he really wanted to, he could overpower her in an instant. This was no moment to let her guard down.

"I d-don't know what you're talking about!" Curse her quivering tongue! Now was not the time to stutter!

The jaguar laughed; and his large fangs now fully visible rivalled the white of her fur. "You are her indeed, I would guess. There are not many noble young lasses like yourself around these parts. I suppose Krystal did not mention me?"

Miyu always had told her some random space pirate gang ran the colony, but Fay's ongoing stroll suggested otherwise. No pirates in the Lylat System had this much power and influence. To own a large colony like this, they had to be the very worst of them. Rich and feared like no other.

And this man's presence screamed 'elegant and deadly'. And she knew the type all too well amongst her father's circles. He definitely either ran the place or was very close to whomever ran it.

"Who are you?" demanded Fay.

The man sighed. "Mas que atrevida esta nena, do you not know it is rude to demand someone's name without introducing yourself first?" But despite the reprimand, he smiled as he shook his head in disapproval. He then bowed gracefully and introduced himself: "My name is Panther Caroso. Ace pilot and member of Star Wolf. Placer en conocerte."

Star Wolf! Of course. Curse her luck in leaving her life in the hands of the most dangerous criminals of the Lylat System.

But... that meant Miyu was... Oh, how sharp was the blade that pierced her heart. To fail to mention such a detail, Miyu was certainly hiding a lot more than she let on.

"Do you know Miyu? Miyu Lynx."

Panther's eyebrows immediately rose. "How do you know that name and what do you want with her?"

So it was true. Miyu had never specified with which pirate group she had connections. Well, if she did specify, she would technically have been divulging enemy secrets to Space Dynamics. It was beyond reasonable that Fay had to stay in the dark for Miyu's sake. Still, it did not mean it hurt any less to learn it from someone else.

Panther in turn, who so far had been nothing but calm and elegant, seemed to be losing his temper more and more with each passing moment. He closed the distance between them and held her gaze with the fury of a thousand volts. "Are you not going to answer me, chica? ¿Qué quieres con mi hermanita?"

Fay was stunned silent. What was that dialect in which he spoke? She might not have understood him, but the anger — or worry? — in his tone was clear. Somehow she had angered him by mentioning Miyu, though she could not tell how or why.

"She's a friend. I'm her friend." It was not a lie, but was it the whole truth?

"Really? I do not recall her mentioning you." His teeth bared and a roar was caught on his throat, ready to burst on Fay's face.

Of course Miyu would not mention Fay to her friends. Another dagger stabbed through Fay's tender heart. It was yet another reasonable omission, she told herself. But the pain was inevitable.

"Well, call her then! She threw away all means of contact I had to reach her before leaving." Before leaving me. "She only told me to come looking for 'the Haven' if I ever wanted to find her."

Panther's lips relaxed into a distrustful pout and he stood straight again. "I shall. Stay where you are and do not move. Or else I will make you stay."

What a strange man. One minute he was charming and graceful, the next he acted like Fay owed him money. Perhaps Miyu was a sore subject for him.

Without taking his eyes off of Fay, Panther lifted his comm from his pants' pocket and fiddled with it. Soon enough some white noise crackled before he spoke, "Gatita, soy yo. A stray here claims to know you."

Fay held the urge to kick his shin. A stray?

"Hey, bro!" said a voice through the speaker. Fay's heart skipped and her stomach fluttered. It really was her! She was so close! "Is it a fox? I already handed him over to the boss."

"A fox, you say? Hmm," pondered Panther, "It was a good thing to hand him over directly to Wolf. He is... a little jumpy around foxes."

And now they were talking about Wolf. Miyu knew Wolf O'Donnell. And by the sounds of it she worked directly for him.

They really needed to talk. And fast.

"You had to see the look on his face, though!" snickered Miyu's voice. "Oh man, I wish I had taken a picture. I had never seen him not scowling before!"

Oh, that beautiful sound of her laughter! It took all of Fay's self control not to call out to her. But she had to keep her promise to her. Oh, that silly promise — but how romantic of a promise, was it not? Even if she was angry and heartbroken with Miyu's many secrets... Fay had to hold on true to her own words.

"I'm sure it was quite the sight to behold, gatita." Panther's expression was again completely different. Hearing Miyu seemed to affect not just Fay, but him as well. He was calmer, relaxed. His lips were not in a smug smirk or a sadistic grin, but rather in a genuine smile — at ease. "However, I call you about a different stray. Not a fox, but a... dog." Fay nodded her head at him, hurrying him to go on. "A young lass, around your age. Pure white fur."

But there was no response. Instead, after a few seconds of silence a loud clattering of things falling to the floor played through the communicator.

"¿Gatita? ¿Estás bien?"

"Where is she? I'm coming to you."

He looked up and around to locate himself. "Meet us at the Ringtail."

"On it."

"But I do not trust this mutt!" growled Panther as he glared daggers at Fay, "You should not come without taking precautions."

"Shut it, bro. And be nice to her!" And then silence.

Fay did not bother to hide her smug look. Miyu had told him to be nice to her, after all. Miyu still cared for her. Of course she did.

But gatita? What a strange pet name. And why did Miyu call him 'bro'? She had never mentioned a brother as far as Fay remembered.

Panther cleared his throat. "Well, she is coming. Give her a few minutes."

"Mr. Caroso, was it?" asked Fay, this time with sweetness in her words.

"Please," he replied. The charming jaguar was back. "Just Panther is fine."

"Well, Mr. Panther," she complied, albeit leaving the 'Mr' to spite him. And it worked: Fay noticed his right eye twitched slightly and his smile faltered for a split second. A small victory. "Now it's my turn to question: what's your relationship with Miyu?"

Panther huffed, his charming smile completely gone. "Miyu is mi hermanita. My little sister." He rolled his eyes at Fay and scoffed again. "Do not give me that look. It is the truth. We are not related by blood, but we grew up together."

And again another dagger to Fay's heart. Miyu could at the very least have told Fay that she had a brother, even if they were not related. That cat had some explaining to do.

"Listen, little stray—"

"Fay. My name is Fay." She finally judged Panther was trustworthy enough to not take her back to Corneria right after hearing her name. Well, not if he planned on getting arrested himself.

"Señorita Fay," he corrected himself, "I must warn you that I do not know you, and that I know my hermanita does not have many friends."

Fay rolled her eyes. It was true. Miyu mostly hung out with Fay for most of the time. Maybe she had not had that many friends, but Fay had always been there for her.

"And...?"

As Panther spoke his tone was neutral but his eyes shone with murderous intent, and a cold shiver ran up Fay's arms and down her spine as he spoke: "And if you hurt her in any way," he threatened, "I will hunt you to any corner of Lylat — and even of the galaxy — in order to make you pay in kind. Am I clear?"

She feigned disinterest, but she could feel herself shake with fear. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

But none of that mattered, Fay reminded herself. All that mattered was that she was finally going to see Miyu. She would finally fulfill that silly promise she made.

When we speak to each other again. Then, I will say the words I promised you.

That incredibly silly and ridiculous — but precious and dear — promise.

Embarrassed. Mortified. Those were the feelings Fox was unsuccessfully trying to push away from his mind. As he sat in a booth across from Wolf at a dimly lit bar, every minute of idle thought made him remember his ridiculous emotional breakdown of not long ago. And the ones previous to that.

It was a personal record even, he realized. He had had a total of three episodes of anxiety and/or insanity in the past two days: once right after Krystal had flown away with Miss Spaniel on his Arwing, another upon arriving right before meeting Miyu, and now one upon learning Krystal's new affiliation with Star Wolf.

Usually Fox bottled up his hurt and drowned it with mindless maintenance tasks in the Great Fox — and whenever possible with paid jobs. When it inevitably resurfaced later on he made sure to shove it down to the bottom of some box inside his mind that he only opened to put things in, never out. And with that it would not need to be dealt with again for the foreseeable future.

Lately, however, it had been increasingly harder to ignore the contents of this box. Every time Fox opened it to get rid of some new feeling, another insisted on falling to the ground where Fox would desperately scramble to grab it back and hide it again. Those who were present for these moments would be subject to his subsequent abrupt mood swings — the most recent of which had just happened a few minutes earlier when he had tried to off himself in front of Wolf.

Wolf in turn had been surprisingly nothing but kind to Fox. It was even weirding Fox out a little. In fact, now that he thought about it, Wolf had been acting much nicer to him a lot longer than Fox's current unplanned visit to that colony.

"Hey."

Fox figured it started a year ago when they fought in Sargasso Space Station. He remembered being quite surprised when Wolf ordered a cease-fire between their teams. And then not long after that Fox was saved by him in Corneria City while he fought the Aparoid invasion.

"Hey, Fox, are you there?"

And yet, Fox had just started suspecting Wolf's feelings for Krystal. In this scenario, it made no sense for Wolf to be so nice to him. Maybe it was just pity. Maybe he wanted to avoid the mess of cleaning up Fox's bloody and lifeless body on the streets below that guardrail. And also the inevitable drama of telling Krystal about it.

Wait. Krystal hated Fox too. Probably. She had every right to—

"FOX!" shouted Wolf at last.

Fox jumped in his seat and remembered his surroundings. In front of him Wolf was glowering.

"You haven't touched your beer." Wolf used a weird tone of voice Fox had never seen him using before. It felt off — a timbre and pitch he had never heard from Wolf before. Fox could not quite pinpoint what it meant. "You alright?"

"I'm not so sure I should be drinking right now," said Fox, "You know, given my latest... actions." But the truth was that he simply had a lot on his mind and the world around him seemed a bit too distant. His beer was there right in front of him, but Fox forgot it even existed every two minutes of idle thought.

Wolf in answer raised his own half-empty bottle in a mocking cheers gesture. "That's the best time to drink."

And without waiting for Fox to say anything in return, Wolf drained the remaining contents of his bottle down his throat. A sigh of satisfaction escaped his lips after the deed was done — the sound a taunt or an invitation, or perhaps both.

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" warned Fox, even though he had no intention whatsoever of trying to hurt himself again. His own brain was already doing an excellent job of causing pain already. "You know, so I don't get the whole place trashed and start a fight or something?"

Wolf snorted. "Go right ahead. I dare you."

Fox stared at him with a blank look on his face as he reached for his beer. It had been a while since he last drank anything. He was not really the type to keep alcohol around. Sometimes Falco, Slippy and him would open a few cans and play pool in the Great Fox's lounge. Even Peppy used to join them before retiring and becoming General. But they had not done that in over a month.

Not since—

"Stop sulking. It's not like you."

Fox looked up to see Wolf staring right at him. His purple eye pierced his barriers effortlessly. And there was no escaping it.

"And you know what I'm like?" retorted Fox, "I mean, it's not like we've been particularly close in the past few years."

Yet Fox knew that to be an excuse. The truth was that when he first saw Wolf that day he wanted nothing more than to hug and thank him. It was the first time they had seen each other since the Aparoid invasion after all. The perfect moment to find a new way to engage their history under new habits — something other than immediately going for each other's throats.

It was something Fox had wanted for a year now — ever since he had found out Pigma and Andrew were no longer associated with Star Wolf. There was no longer any need for them to be enemies any more. Just two mercenary groups, independent to each other, free to pursue their own interests without unnecessary conflict.

Fox had never truly hated Wolf. Resented and distrusted? Absolutely. But not actual hate. If anything he felt hurt — hurt by the betrayal of Wolf still during their Academy days—

"Apparently," retorted Wolf, interrupting Fox's trail of thought once again, "I know enough to expect that snarky mouth of yours to be as obnoxious as ever. You should probably drink some of that beer to keep that tongue from going dry."

At last, Fox rolled his eyes and made a dramatic show of taking a large swig of his beer. His day had already been spectacularly bad; surely drinking would not make it any worse. Might even numb him enough to avoid dwelling on Krystal — and everything else — again.

Wolf slowly clapped his hands and let out a loud laugh. "Now that's more like it!" And turning his attention to someone behind Fox, Wolf half-raised a hand and nodded. "Leonard! Bring us another round, if you please."

Fox raised an eyebrow. Wolf knew the staff by name? "You come here often, Wolf?"

It was a literal question, but the familiarity of it hit Fox as soon as the words came out. He tried to keep his cringing on the inside, but could not help the grimace that was manifesting on his lips.

Wolf did not say a word. Instead he let his grin slowly grow until Fox could no longer bear the shame and hid his face on his palms.

"I didn't mean it like that," he groaned.

"I know," chuckled Wolf, "But it was a bit funny."

Fox sighed. "Glad my embarrassment is amusing for one of us."

The clank of two more bottles of beer being placed on the table made him raise his head again. His eyes immediately followed the movement and landed on the familiar face of a leopard.

The leopard smiled. "Oh, hello! It's you again."

Fox cleared his throat to salvage his dignity and forced a friendly smile. He tried to think of it as one of his many public appearances back in Corneria — just smile and be polite. It was not like he had embarrassed himself in front of this leopard hours ago by running away while trying — and failing — to not have an anxiety attack. Nope! That never happened.

"Um, hi." He tried saying more, but his eyes betrayed him. While sitting down it was hard not to pay attention to the leopard's revealing tank top underneath the apron. Was that proper attire for work around those parts? "You work here?" Fox finally managed to say.

But Fox never got to hear the answer. Wolf cleared his throat and interrupted: "Leonard," he said, "Thanks for the drinks. Keep 'em coming."

The leopard turned and his demeanour changed. "Of course," he said; his voice automatic, as if his sweet tone was rehearsed. "Let me know if you need anything else, boss." And before Fox could say anything else, he walked away.

Fox questioned Wolf with a look, but he found Wolf eyeing him back with a questioning look himself.

"You know Leonard?"

"No," Fox answered — only a little too fast, — "I mean, I just met him earlier today in that weird stage with the columns and—"

"The Throne Room, we call it," offered Wolf; and upon seeing Fox's puzzled wide eyes he elaborated: "It's, uh, a nickname for the place. It's mostly just a nightclub with live music. If he was there there's probably a show later tonight."

Fox blinked, unsure of what to make of that information. "He's in a band?"

Wolf looked at Fox with a bland, neutral face and his right ear gave a quick flap. "A band. Of sorts. Yes." He did not elaborate this time. "What were you doing there?"

Squinting, Fox stared back. "Are you questioning me?"

Wolf grinned. "Maybe."

"I was kinda lost, actually," shrugged Fox. "I was just wandering around looking for Krystal and stumbled upon the place."

In his defence, it was one of the largest buildings of that city. If one was lost, the place could be seen from a rather good distance and could serve as a useful landmark. That is if, unlike Fox, one actually knew where other things were in relation to it.

"It's a bit surprising actually," admitted Fox, "An illegal colony caring enough for... — the arts, I suppose? — to maintain a place like that."

Wolf snorted and took a large gulp of his own beer before retorting: "Yeah, we criminals hate music and entertainment. Unlike Cornerian sophisticated lapdogs."

"I didn't—"

"It's whatever," dismissed Wolf. "Kind of a luxury, anyway. And we can only have local small performers because—"

"Illegal colony," provided Fox.

"Yeah."

Fox could not help but give a small smile at the comment. "That's kind of cool."

Wolf shifted in his seat and took another sip of his beer. Fox took the silent break to drink some more of his own.

He had forgotten for a moment but it then hit him again: he was in a bar, drinking with Wolf O'Donnell. The awkwardness of their shared history would forever haunt his nerves. If only he could disappear—

"Hey!"

Fox looked up to see Wolf was glaring at him again with that sharp eye.

"More drinking, less thinking," proposed Wolf, his bottle raised in a cheers gesture again.

With another roll of his eyes, Fox complied and downed the remainder of his bottle. He slammed the empty container onto the table with a little more force than he anticipated, and promptly ignored the look that Wolf was giving as he reached for the second bottle.

"Oh you're on," declared Wolf and immediately beckoned Leonard once more.

Fox focused on drinking the beers as much as he could, one after another. Wolf on the other hand paced himself, though he seemed more than willing to keep on going indefinitely. Fox took each smirk as a challenge for him to drink more, and Wolf's lips at that point were perpetually stretched in a cheeky smile.

They did not talk as much as they made fun of each other and engaged in some light competition over the largest gulp of beer. Wolf even let out an approving "Woo! Go McCloud!" when Fox finished a bottle in a single dip — downing it like it was cold water after hours of jogging.

Fox did not notice when he started feeling drunk and did not care. His fingertips buzzed and his mind was light — free of those pesky judgmental thoughts that had pestered him all day long. He wondered why he did not drink more often.

He let out a loud burp after the seventh or eleventh bottle — he stopped counting at some point in between. Wolf bellowed a loud and long laugh and banged on the table. He lifted a finger at Fox to get his attention and took a large gulp of beer himself. Not a second later he forced out an even louder burp while pretending to be singing.

Fox snickered. Then he giggled. Then he remembered this was Wolf and lost it. Something about the situation seemed so absurd in his mind it felt like he was acting out a bit; a scene from a trashy sitcom. Wolf joined him soon thereafter.

If someone had told Fox ten years ago he would one day be drinking with Wolf O'Donnell and having a burping match with him, he would have believed them to be completely insane. Unfit for piloting, driving, and even going to the local bakery at the end of the block without getting lost in whatever alternate reality that person had to be living in.

And yet, there he was. In this absurd place, in this absurd situation, with absurd company. Maybe if he kept drinking, the absurdity would be even funnier. Or at least just seem less absurd. So he downed another beer. And another.

"Fox, hey, man, listen," said Wolf making exaggerated gestures to get his attention. The alcohol was clearly getting to him too. "I gotta take a piss; don't go anywhere, alright?"

He realized he desperately needed to go himself, but decided he could wait for Wolf to be back first. "Sure, no problem," he managed to say.

Not a minute later he was being handed a napkin by a yellow spotted hand while another hand rested on his right shoulder. Fox looked up to see Leonard behind him, smiling. He was so close up Fox could smell him — a mix of shampoo, cologne, and that natural cat smell that stirred something inside of him.

"Listen, darling," said Leonard right into his ear, his warm breath tickling them and making Fox shiver. At that point he was so drunk he did not even care about the pet name. "Text me later if you want to get to know me better."

And with that he was gone. Fox did not even look at the napkin and just shoved it in his pocket. Sober him would know what it was, probably. And drunk him right now was feeling like he should take it easy on the beer if he did not want to pass out. Inside an illegal colony. Away from his team. Without any means of contact with them. And in the hands of Star Wolf.

But would that be really so bad? Would Star Wolf actually cause him any harm? Wolf seemed pretty harmless tonight. He had even saved his life. They had not really anything to gain by it, unless it was a job. And even then, Fox considered Wolf would probably not take that job. Probably.

And if they did, Fox would have to not only fight the trio of Wolf, Leon, and Panther; but also Krystal. And that put a knot in his stomach that he decided to drown in another beer.

But as he reached for another bottle, he saw a different, unopened and clear plastic bottle next to the many brown glass ones. Under it was a napkin with words written on it: "Take it easy."

Huh. Maybe Leonard left it there when Fox was not looking. Maybe Wolf had ordered some and Fox did not see it. Without thinking too much about it, he ignored the gift and reached for the cold and bitter drink instead.

He thanked the gods when Wolf came back right then and they switched places. Fox hurried to the bar's restroom and found the nearest urinal to relieve his screaming bladder.

The restroom was nothing like the bar itself. It was small, and dirty, and it smelled horrible. Just like any bar in Papetoon, thought Fox. Illegal colony, shmegal colony; this was just some place like any other. He even got random people hitting on him — that was what that leopard was doing right?

It was strange to be hit on by men. It was not the first time it had happened, no, but it was the first time he felt something of it. Maybe it was because Leonard was so straightforward and even borderline slutty — most guys back in Corneria when they showed interest in the 'great hero Fox McCloud' were subtle about it; a lot of them were even scared of the reaction. Fox turned them down gently and never paid them any second thought. He did not really want casual hookups and did not really know any of them enough to consider an actual relationship.

Not to mention he was not gay.

Yes, Fox McCloud was straight, he repeated in his mind. He had fancied and dated Krystal, and he had kissed and messed around with other girls during the Academy. He liked girls. Fox just felt weirded out by Leonard because he was blunt and dressed... provocatively. He was embarrassed by the man's lack of shame! He would not be caught dead wearing something so... revealing in public. The mere thought was enough to make his ears burn. Thus, he promptly shoved it down the box of repressed feelings.

As Fox finished his business and washed his hands, he took a moment to take in his appearance in the mouldy mirror. His fur was matted and dishevelled, and his eyes were puffed and slightly red from his shameful crying earlier. He looked like shit — and he could not have that. Fox McCloud had to look pristine and in one piece; and not that broken mess he was right now.

He could not possibly show up to Slippy and Falco like this. Hell he was so drunk he could not even consider piloting back to the Great Fox. Maybe he could ask Wolf for a lift. Wait, no — they had both been drinking — nope; he was not getting back today.

He needed a place to crash.

Maybe those minutes alone sobered him up a bit; maybe those dingy lights of the dirty restroom made him gain some perspective on the situation — because now he was nearly panicking yet again in that same cursed day and he was getting fucking tired of it. He stopped and took a deep breath. And then he shoved yet another feeling to the bottom of that box in his mind and strode back to Wolf with his game face on.

Wolf raised an eyebrow at him. "Did something happen in there?"

"Nope."

"Did Leonard give you his number yet?"

So Wolf knew. "Wow. Very smooth." Fox had already forgotten the napkin crumpled in his pocket — and it was probably going back to being forgotten in a few minutes. "Yeah, uhh — I think so, a little while ago when you were gone."

"Hah!" Wolf snickered, "That guy hits on every guy he lays his eye on."

Fox was not special then. That made him feel somewhat better about it, strangely. "Noted."

"You wanna keep drinkin'?" asked Wolf, a bottle already raised.

Fox did not hesitate. He wanted nothing more than to forget his situation and not care about anything at the moment. How he looked, how he would get back to his team, where he would sleep that night — if he would sleep at all. No. He wanted to forget it all.

So he reached for his own bottle and raised it. "Cheers, Wolf."

Wolf grinned. "Cheers."

And before they could finish another round, a loud shout had them turn in their seats to look outside through the large windows next to them.

Fox's eyes bulged from his head. Right there on the street, Fay Spaniel was running towards them and in her eyes the same fiery look she had when she had escaped her room in that ship. She shouted something again that Fox could not quite make out through the thick glass.

Fox immediately considered the possibility she was in danger and cursed his drunkenness and his missing blaster — where was it again? "I gotta go," explained Fox as he stumbled his way out the door. He tried his best to fake soberness and run with purpose, but he failed miserably as he tripped on tables and chairs and upset other patrons.

He may have failed his mission of keeping Miss Spaniel on his sight at all times, but at the very least he would keep her safe. Nothing was more important than a civilian's life in this unknown and criminal setting. He had to protect her. He needed to protect her.

And as soon as he turned around the corner of the bar to where he had last seen her run to, he stopped dead in his tracks. Fay Spaniel was right there, not five metres apart from him. But Fox could only see her back, and around it was wrapped a pair of spotted orange arms. Her wagging tail told him she was in no danger.

Fox leaned on the outer wall of the bar and sighed in relief as he waited for his vision to stop spinning. He would not have to fight for his or anyone else's life tonight. Miss Spaniel was safe. And he had found her. His mission was not in jeopardy. He would be able to go back and—

"Fox?" a familiar voice called — not Miss Spaniel's, but feminine and young all the same. And from behind Miss Spaniel's figure emerged two large ears with little black tufts on their end.

"Miyu?" Fox was confused and his mind was too messy to make coherent and complex thoughts. But seeing the two of them like that, it was clear. The wheels were inevitably turning in his head.

"You and Miss Spaniel are... — you two are, uh," he tried to say but the words were too foreign in his mind for him to accept them so naturally. "You're... involved?"

The white fluffy ears of Miss Spaniel twirled in the air as she turned to look. She let out a yelp and pointed an accusing finger. "You! Get away from me, you're not taking me back!"

"Oh, please, Miss Spaniel," pleaded Fox, "I'm really not here to hurt you."

"Liar!" she shouted, "Miyu — don't let him take me, please!"

Miyu gave her a wary look before turning to Fox. "Hey again, boss. What's going on?"

Fox followed her gaze to his left and saw Wolf was right beside him — she had not called Fox her boss thankfully. However, he was not looking at the two of them, but rather at the jaguar standing behind them — tall, dark, and sharply dressed.

"I thought you were looking after her, Panther?" said Wolf — his arms crossed in disapproval.

Panther gave him a pompous and overly dramatic bow. "My apologies, Wolf. She insisted on seeing mi pequeña. And I did not know you were here with the fox."

"It's fine," dismissed Wolf.

Was it really? Fox could see under the grey and white fur how his jaw clenched tight. Gone was the good mood he had been in not five minutes ago. And understandably so, as the situation seemed to be messier and messier by the second. Fox was stuck in between trying to salvage his mission, not fuck up his team's history with Star Wolf even further, and now trying to convince Fay of letting him do his damn job. It was too much and he was not sober enough for that. Maybe drinking during a mission was not such a good idea in hindsight. Just maybe.

But what did he care about his mission anyway? It was not like Star Fox really needed the money. It was a lot of money, yes, but the critical aspect of it was that Peppy — now General Peppy — had personally requested—

"Fox," interrupted Wolf. "Against my better judgment, I made a promise to give this girl shelter. And I do not break promises. Keep that in mind."

Great. That was all that he needed. More pressure.

"If you are an enemy of Miyu's friend," warned Panther, glaring a thousand daggers into Fox's eyes, "You are an enemy of mine. You do not want that."

Everyone, shut up! he wanted to yell. He needed to think and all these threats and warnings and the alcohol in his blood were not helping. He massaged his temples in a futile attempt to prevent the already manifesting migraine. "I'm not taking anyone by force — obviously." At least that he knew he could promise.

And he was so tired. He just wanted to go to bed and pass out at that point. He did not want to care right now about Fay Spaniel, or his mission, or Peppy's request, or Krystal, or Star Wolf, or even Star Fox for that matter.

But he did. He cared deeply about all of those things, some more than he cared to admit. But something had to go. One or two or even three of those things had to go. Or at least change his perception of them in some fundamental way. And all of those would cause conflicts. For him and for the people he cared about.

Fox wished Slippy and Falco were there — even if just for moral support. He hated being in charge of such important matters by himself. The big shots always fell upon his lap, sooner or later. He hated it. And there was never any way around it. If he wanted things done he would have to do them himself.

But maybe the hardships were to make us stronger.

Krystal's words felt like a punch to his gut, but they now also were a rock on which to support himself. If he went through with this, maybe — just maybe — everything would be alright. Maybe Krystal was now happier in Star Wolf, and she and Fox had to split for the good of both of them.

And Krystal had had the guts to do it. What did Krystal have that Fox did not? — well, aside from the weird telepathy thing. Courage? Character? A moral compass? Fox had all of those things. He had to have them.

At the very least, I would like to believe that.

So he took a long and deep breath, and put on his game face once more.

"I'm quitting this shitty deal with Spaniel," declared Fox while trying to look as sober as he could — and he had the impression he was doing a pretty good job of it under the circumstances. "I don't know what your father wanted for you Miss Sp— I mean, Fay. But you are clearly happier here with Miyu — and if Star Wolf is looking out for you — I mean, just look at these two — I'm sure you'll be safe."

He was not exactly sure about that, but he wanted to put some faith in Wolf as a sign of... friendship. Yes, friendship. Maybe they were not friends just yet, but Fox hoped that could change in the near future.

Also Krystal was now with Star Wolf to pick up the slack. He figured she could handle it if needed. Probably. It was her mess in the first place anyway.

He continued: "In any case, Fay — I think it's your decision to make as far as I'm concerned."

Fay eyed him carefully while still holding onto Miyu. There was doubt and distrust across her face, but Fox could do very little about that. He would not trust drunk him either.

"You promise?" she asked. "You're the famous Fox McCloud, you have to keep your promises."

Fox attempted a smile. Despite her bravery she was still quite young. "I promise."

And finally that was taken care of. Maybe now he did not even have to talk to Krystal after all. He could just pretend it never happened and not report her to anyone. He was quitting that lousy assignment anyway, so who cared if he failed to report a criminal incident? Furthermore Fay was legally an adult or at least very close to one, he figured. She could make her own choices. Probably.

"And Wolf, thank you for today. I'll pay you back one way or another." And at that point he had lost count of how much he owed Wolf. His life. His team's life. A good night of drinking — wait, had Wolf paid the bill? "I'm pretty cool with the idea of Star Wolf not being my enemy for once."

Wolf stared at him. Every word Fox had uttered just then Wolf had committed to heart and he would hold Fox to them. Fox could see that in that purple one-eyed glare. And to commit himself to his words as well, Fox locked that stare with his own; an intense feeling of electricity running through him as he did it.

"We could be sort of like friends, maybe," he amended in a whisper only to Wolf. He figured he could later blame the alcohol for that.

And as the rush of adrenaline subsided and people started talking around him, the world blurred and his mind blanked. Their questions unanswered and unheard, for to him all was noise and indiscernible. He vaguely remembered the surfaces he felt. Soft arms. Hard cold ground. Soft warm fabric. Soft carpet. Soft cushions.

"Take it easy, pup," was the only thing he remembered hearing afterwards.

[A/N]

That's it for now! 8k words for your reading pleasure. These flew off my fingertips like the time that escaped me while writing and editing it. Is it 1AM right now? Yes. Yes, it is.

And we're just getting started :3c

Dedicated to Rec and Amalia for believing in me.

[A/N end]