The cat eyed him cautiously as he approached the bar. His last visit had been precarious to say the least. Of course, then he had only thought his life was over metaphorically, now he was worried he might find himself stuffed into a Dominion Agent's trunk. He was half surprised there wasn't someone waiting for him when he got home.

"Karl doesn't usually show up for another hour," she began as he found a well-worn stool.

"That's fine, he seems like a bad influence anyway," Marcus smiled back trying to forget his anxiety.

With a relieved chuckle the cat asked, "What'll it be?"

If there were ever a time to drink, it is now, he thought to himself, but a promise is a promise.

"You serve water, right?"

"Not usually, but we've got a pretty killer ginger ale if you're not in the mood for getting comfy with the floor again."

"Sure, one of those."

The cork practically exploded off the bottle, ricocheting off the ceiling before getting lost in the straw floor.

"If you're not here to drink…" Blaze began before trailing off. "You're human, you can go anywhere, why here?"

There wasn't an easy way to say, Ixis' wife might still be trying to kill me, so he didn't.

"Would it be weird if I said it feels like this is the only place I fit in anymore?"

His problems hardly seemed human at this point. He may as well try to fall in with a different crowed.

"Yes!" the feline shouted back at him. "Yes, it would be very weird."

Tipping the bottle into his mouth he couldn't help but cough as the volatile concoction swirled down his throat. It burned all the way up to his nostrils.

"Wow," he began trying to compose himself, "that is the strongest ginger ale I've ever had."

The stuff they sold in stores paled in comparison. If he didn't know better it could probably be used to start a fire, but that only made him like it more.

"Harry, I understood him. He checked out a while back. This was all just part of a routine," the cat motioned at the bar. "There was nothing here for him, and that's precisely why he liked it."

She was good at asking questions without asking questions. Although he suspected that came with years of tending a bar.

"I guess I never realized what I was giving up when I signed up for this. Normal people don't want to spend time with those who work for Ixis Naugus."

"And what makes you think we do?"

Marcus shrugged, "I thought at least we have that in common?"

"Don't confuse us with that fox you're hanging around with. Ixis might own this place, but he doesn't own us. We're not his, I can leave whenever I want and he won't think twice about me."

The kid couldn't help but sigh as he eased himself into another sip of a liquid that was somehow more ginger-like than the root itself.

"Hey! It's the new guy," a mongoose bounced onto the bar top. Crossing her legs, she leaned down to meet his gaze, "not going to repeat last time, are you?"

"Don't plan on it," he replied sullenly, "just trying to feel slightly less alone."

"Well you came to the right place," the chipper critter replied. "Almost anyone here will be your friend if you buy them a drink first. Just get ready to hear a lot of sad stories."

"Yeah, I learned my lesson last time. I think I'll stick with this," Marcus raised his bottle of ginger ale.

"Not much fun is he?"

"Better than Harry," Blaze shrugged.

"That's a low bar."

This job was full of highs and lows. Every time he thought he had achieved some sort of victory, the city shoved him back down into the gutter he had just crawled out of.

"I get it," Marcus said as he pushed himself away from the bar, "I don't belong here."

"I didn't say that," the slender creature replied as she shook her head, her piercings sparkling in dim light. "Lighten up, new guy."

"It's Marcus."

"Mina, resident entertainer," she responded with an outstretched hand.

He didn't know what to do besides nod as he accepted her paw.

"I see that look," she half scolded him, "don't judge me."

"I didn't," Marcus threw his hands up in defense.

"You might not agree with what I do, but to me, it's a living. I've even come to enjoy it. Let's me express who I am. No one tell me what to do when I'm on the stage," the Mobian paused as she looked into the distance, "I just dance until I feel like I'm free."

"That's how I feel about Jazz," the kid lamented. "I play what I feel. There's no rules to it, just rhythm, living in the moment."

"Wait!" the mongoose leapt to the floor cheerfully. "You can play?" She pointed at a dusty bar piano tucked into the back corner.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Ohh, Blaze," Mina clapped her hands as she jumped up and down, "this is going to be so much fun. Can't remember the last time we had live music."

"Wait, you want me to play now… for… uhhh one of your performances?"

"Of course! It's so much more fun with someone else."

"I… err… I'm not sure I'm entertainer material, you know."

The mongoose rolled her eyes as she giggled, "I don't need you to dance silly. That's my job. You can even leave your shirt on if you want to."

"I want to," he insisted, despite knowing a joke when he heard one.

Doing his best to inhale what was left of the stubbornly tangly ale in front of him, he tried to come up with a reason to back out. Everything that could be was wrong on his life, but he couldn't help but feel that this was why he had come here.

To get into trouble, he announced only to himself, to escape this nightmare.

It's what he had spent his entire life doing.

Running away from my problems. And look at me now!... alone in a bar full of Mobians… Again.

"You sure you don't want to switch to something stronger?" the purple cat chuckled, clearly having caught a glimpse of his face. "You look nearly as pale as you did last time."

"Nahhh," he waved her off, "made a promise."

Even if the fox was absent, perhaps never to be seen again, he couldn't shake the vow he had made her.

"You'd be the first I heard of keeping one of those."

"Need to start somewhere," he shrugged as a meaty paw patted him on the back.

"Kid, wasn't sure I'd see again after last time," Karl laughed in an unfamiliar sober voice.

"Neither was I."

"Come to buy me another drink?"

"You wish Karl," Mina pulled at his sleeve, "he's all mine tonight. Isn't that right, Marcus?"

"Oh no, what'd she rope you into?" the canine laughed.

"Nothing I can't handle," Marcus replied as he found his feet and followed the mongoose through a growing crowed.

"He giving you any trouble?" the scantily clad mongoose inquired.

"Who, Karl? No. I'd be more inclined to ask you the same."

"He's all bark and no bite," Mina giggled. "Hard worker, kind eyes, but a sad soul."

Marcus almost felt bad for the wolf. She had just summarized his existence in a tragically short sentence.

"So, are you any good?" Mina inquired with a glance over her shoulder.

At a foot and a half shorter than him, she was far from imposing. However, the same could be said of a fox hew knew. Wolves were one thing, large and imposing even if they weren't. It hadn't taken him long to realize that it was the smaller more cunning creatures that he should be keeping his eyes on.

"I'm alright," Marcus replied, unsure of what answer she was looking for.

"Are you gonna play anything I'll recognize? Or are you gonna make me improvise?"

"How long have you been living in the city?"

"My whole life."

Marcus could do little more than nod in reply as he pulled the bench out from under the piano, "you've got nothing to worry about."

Habits were harder to kill than perhaps he realized. It had become second nature with the red shadow that often stalked him. Strangely, it felt like cheating. This had always been their thing. As harmless as it seemed on the surface, just running his fingers down the keys without her looking over his shoulder rubbed him the wrong way.

"Sorry, Fiona," he whispered to no one, "the show must go on."

It only took a few chords for the bar to disperse into whispers. He pushed down as hard on the keys as he did his memories.

"Blaze!" the mongoose shouted above the quieting crowed.

Before he could even realize what the trouble was, a microphone whipped its way through the air and into Mina's outstretched hand.

Of course, he had never thought to ask if she intended on singing for this performance. With the ruby vulpine that normally tailed him, that was a forgone conclusion. Thankfully, however, the mongoose in shorts that were hardly deserving of the word seemed eagerly up to the task.

"Kid," a familiar wolf wondered through the crowed holding another mic, "kitty cat said you would need this."

He often questioned his habit of letting his feeling guide the music he played. Was it a reflection of what he felt? Or just the most appropriate song for a dancer on a stage surrounded by strangers? It didn't matter now, the melody was already flowing, the first bar fast approaching.

Mina began to hum along with the tune, the dull murmur of the crowed falling deafly silent as she eased her way into the melody.

Song: Dancing with a Stranger

Lyrics by: Sam Smith

"I don't want to be alone tonight," the mongoose began.

The patrons' tails began to wag as if this were an invitation directed at them.

"It's pretty clear that I'm not over you," she continued in a voice that rivaled that of an angel.

Huh, Marcus mused, she is an entertainer.

"I'm still think'n about the things you do," Marcus answered as the Mobian twirled elegantly on stage. "So, I don't want to be alone tonight."

Kneeling down, Mina scratched beneath Karl's muzzle, as she leaned into her next verse, "I need someone who can take control."

The wolf's reaction was priceless. No doubt Mina took some enjoyment out of getting such an easy rise out of her customers. Perhaps Marcus had underestimated her in more ways than one.

Backing away she pointed at the canine, wagging her finger, "Look what you made me do, I'm with someone new," the mongoose sang as she leaned downed to another patron. "Ohh baby, baby I'm dancing with Stanger."

"Look what you made me do," Marcus did his best to parody her, "I'm with someone new. Oh baby, baby I'm dancing with a stranger."

The night became a blur, the euphoria of rowdy Mobians clapping at each and every performance the duo put on was nearly as toxic as the drinks they served. Fiona had shown him the difference between playing for someone and them being there to hear you. This felt like the latter, and he would have been kidding himself if he didn't love of every second of it. Even if their eyes weren't on him, it made him feel considerably less lost just to be a part of it.

He may have let his sense of time wonder, but the pain his knuckles felt had not. His joints ached with each breath he took. As much as we wanted to continue forgetting about his never ending supply of problems, his body demanded a break.

"Okay, okay," the mongoose panted into the mic, "I'm sorry, but that's the last one."

The crowd booed in a lighthearted way, announcing their displeasure. Marcus smiled as he squeezed his fists into a ball trying desperately to remember what his fingers felt like. Rising from the piano he faded into the crowed, just another nameless face that didn't belong.

Is this what it's like to be Fiona. There one moment, gone the next?

"Damn," Blaze said as she slid him an ice-cold glass of water.

"Thought you didn't serve that here."

"You earned it," the cat replied. "Never had a crowed like that before. Hell, you might have even caught me singing along there for a moment."

Gulping the water down, Marcus was reluctant to come up for air, "might have had fun myself."

The feline smiled, "Maybe I was wrong about you."

"Been getting a lot of that lately."

"Come back anytime," Blaze tipped her head, "you belong here as much as anyone else."

That sad truth it was often the oppressed that could extend that which they were not themselves afforded. Hospitality in a city that wouldn't have them. A handheld out in friendship for nothing in return. Humans had got it in their head that they were superior, but yet it was in a place like this that he found the first glimpse of what humanity should look like.

"Don't fall asleep on me, partner." The mongoose patted him on the back.

"Sorry, lost in thought," the kid replied as he transferred his gaze to Mobian's exuberant green eyes.

"Anything good?"

"Just daydreaming."

"Hard to call them daydreams when it's half past one in the morning," Mina pointed out.

"I suppose it is," he replied, "I need to get back. I've got work in six hours."

"Can I walk you home?" she inquired in an almost guilty tone.

A less naïve version of himself might have recognized the request for what it was, but he was too tired and distant from reality to care.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to ask you that," Marcus chuckled as he offered an arm.

The Mobian bound along at his side, whistling tunes in his ear. She was so happy despite living in a world that hated her for being born a different species.

How?

The sound of tires rolling down a wet street greeted him as he exited the bar. The night was damp and muggy, air clung to his skin like it had been taped there. For a brief moment the passing headlights illuminated the alley. Tucked in the corner was a scared creature hunched over, sobbing.

That voice…

"Fiona?" Marcus inquired into the dark. Her red shadow had become unmistakable to him over the last week.

The crying stopped as a pair of orbs shot up for the bleak to greet him.

"Fiona?" he inquired again before releasing Mina.

"Fiona, are you okay?" he nearly begged as he ran over to her.

The patter of the mongoose's footsteps quickly followed, "Do you know her?"

"Yes," Marcus responded sharply, his concern and emotion more than present in his tone.

"Is she hurt? What's wrong?"

There weren't many people that could hurt Fiona as far as he knew. And while the vulpine rarely showed her sensitive side, he suspected the tears were not from a physical injury.

"I'm not exactly sure."

"Should I go get help?"

"No, no it's fine. Can you get home okay on your own?"

The mongoose nodded, slightly confused but otherwise unaffected by the whole ordeal. Whistling into the night the Mobian retreated into the mist and out of sight as if this type of thing happened all the time.

Maybe it does…

Kneeling, Marcus scooped up a fox that could rip him in two. Her frame was slender and weighed less than he remembered. Although his opinion quickly changed when he reached the top of his apartment's stairs. Panting, he stumbled down the long hallway until his legs finally gave out just as he entered his apartment.

"Fiona," he begged, "what happened? Did Ixis do something? Was it her, was it Keira? Did they find you? What happened?"

Slowly the fox brought a paw to her eyes, wiping away tears, "how could you?"

Marcus wanted to pretend he didn't know what this was about, but that would have been a futile endeavor. With a deep inhale he picked himself up off the floor, leaving the vulpine in his den. He was too tired to explain this. She's the one who had left him to fend for himself.

The nerve of her.

"I was wrong, I shouldn't have said…" the fox said through a strong sniffle, "I shouldn't have left you."

"No, you shouldn't have!" he barked back at her. "I've been worried sick about you. What are you doing here anyway? I thought were done?"

"I… I was worried about you too. I thought they could have gotten to you… that you might break the promise you made me."

"So you came to check on me?" Marcus said dismissively as he filled a kettle with water at lit the stove.

Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the fox nod energetically, "I kept telling myself I didn't care. That it didn't bother me if they got you, that it wouldn't bother me watching you tear yourself apart if you lived."

"But?" he assumed there would be one.

There always is.

When there wasn't, he turned around to find a soggy vulpine staring up at him blankly. In the blink of an eye, she had a fist full of shirt and sooner than he could react Fiona had ripped him down to her level. Before he could announce a protest, it was over. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the rush of emotion, a fight or flight response, for anything but there was only the hiss of a gas burner.

"I… I…" Fiona hesitated, she had no doubt been expecting something too, "I wanted to know."

"Know what?" Marcus inquired, as confused now as he ever had been.

"If it was real."

It was as beautiful as it was painful. Fiona was rough around every edge, but she had let him in enough that she thought there might be more between them. The truth was, he did to. He pined for the answer but didn't dare ask the question. However, now he knew the answer. This fox he adored was just a friend even if felt like she should be something else. The conflict tore at his insides, but Marcus thought better than to let it show.

"You know," the kid began with a light-hearted smile, "you're supposed to ask before you go around kissing people."

Her devilish smile returned, "Do I strike you as the type to ask?"

"No," he chucked in reply, "no you do not."

And for a moment his eyes fell into hers. Perhaps they had lingered there too long, creating an invitation that he wouldn't rescind. Fiona drew closer again, this time slowly.

All he could hear in his head was Karl's less than sober words of wisdom, "Just close your eyes, it's all the same."

Closing the distance and his eyes, he connected the space between them. There were no sparks, no fanfare, just a fox kissing a guy in the dim light of a kitchen.

"And now?" Marcus asked her.

With what sounded like relief, the fox began, "Nothing… and you?"

It would have taken a lot of lying to himself to say that he wasn't curious on some level. Fiona was so much of what he wanted, but there was still a disconnect. Chalking it up to her being a fox and him human would have been too simplistic.

"Nahh," he shook his head.

"When I saw you leaving with her, I thought I had lost you, I thought I had lost the only person who's ever cared about me."

"Fiona…"

"The last people I loved died a long time ago. And then you show up and I thought for a second that may be I... that I... loved you, but I pushed you away."

"Fiona…" he tried to stop her again.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're allowed to love your friends," he smiled, "no smooching required."

A fragment of the vulpine's grin returned as the fur on her cheeks turned a lighter shade of red.

"Besides, I feel like I should be the one apologizing. I felt bad about it… playing for her performances."

"Don't be," she echoed back, "you guys killed it."

He felt his eyes drift back to hers. The sound of his kettle interrupted another long stare.