Musul and Marriage

by Insomniazzz

Seems there's no turning back for Furrball now. a new TV show, a kid and the prospects of matrimony hanging over his head. How will he juggle it all and not get in trouble at the Bachelor Party?

8. Barefoot

8. Barefoot

Sharp feline eyes absorbed details of the establishment. The cat was about to enter a kind of building he'd never paid any attention to, among dozens of other types. And yet as he stared at the large bell below the steeple, he became more and more intrigued, wondering why he'd never looked twice at a church before in his life. Before he could take a moment to appreciate the fine stained glasswork, the side door opened up.

"Houston, we have a huge problem!"

Furrball looked over to see Plucky and Calamity racing over to him. The two of them looked over his disheveled form then exchanged glances.

"Annex?" Plucky suggested. Calamity nodded, grabbing one of the cat's wrists as Plucky grabbed the other. They raced to the church annex as fast as they could, lest they be seen by the wedding guests.

"Seriously, Furrball. Leave it to you, stripping down to go dumpster diving five minutes before your wedding." Plucky remarked, causing the feline to look up. Before he could punch the green mallard, he noticed that Plucky had stripped down to his boxers.

"Wh-" the cat stammered.

"In the words of my mentor," Plucky announced, pausing a bit for emphasis, "'Fortunately I always carry a spare." The duck tossed his tuxedo to Furrball, revealing a hideous purple zoot suit.

Out of respect for the kind gesture, nobody, including Sylvester, commented on the duck's choice of backup attire. Even Lil Beeper managed to stifle his chuckle. Calamity clapped his hands twice, pointing to his watch, then the door.

"You're right, Cal. Sam's getting paid by the hour so he'll start playing on time even if we're not there!" Buster observed. Just as the group started for the door, a lavender Tasmanian devil blocked their path. Eyes narrowing, Dizzy spun directly towards Furrball, giving the cat twenty or so revolutions, finally stopping to reveal a bottle of cologne. Grinning, Dizzy sniffed the cat.

"Now you smell like groom, not old broom!"

…

It was almost comical how accurate Buster's prediction was. Sam the Sheepdog had already started playing the wedding march as the gang rolled in. Because of the timing and scheduling conflicts there hadn't even been a real dress rehearsal. Furrball tried to focus ahead as he was rushed past the pews but the strange architecture held his interest, as did the disturbing image of a man hanging on two planks of wood above the altar.

All of a sudden, the cat realized that only he and Calamity were rushing to the altar as his group thinned out with the rest of them taking their seats in the pews.

"Your timing is impeccable, young cat," the priest whispered as the two took their places. Furrball was unable to dignify this with a response as he turned to face the aisle. He noticed Dr. Melodie and Nurse Shannon sitting on his side. There was also what seemed like a family of cats he didn't know. Fifi's side of the church was completely full, but aside from the faces from school, he couldn't recognize anyone.

Calamity wiped the feline's forehead with his handkerchief and the two exchanged grins. As the doors opened, the bridesmaids processed through the aisle, tossing violet and orchid petals on the carpet.

Moments later, the entire church broke into a collective "Awww!" as the ring bearer showed his face. No one could really tell how he was able to balance the pillow on his stump as he walked confidently, keeping his red eye on the rings and his green eye on his father. Furrball glanced down at Sylvester who smirked back. It was probably for the best that the little one's listening comprehension hadn't been his strong point, as he was unable to distinguish the high-pitched "Adorable!" and "Cute as a button!" comments.

When the kitten finally made it to the front and stood to the side, the organ got louder and the guests all took to their feet. Fifi appeared with Shirley at the end of the aisle, donned in an ivory gown with French lace and no veil. She had a look of a horrified child until her eyes settled upon the love of her life. As the two friends began their slow procession down the aisle, Fifi heart pounded faster and faster, until she could hold it no longer. Shirley could read her intentions and took the bouquet from her as Fifi sprinted up the aisle only to find that Furrball had the same thing in mind and raced to meet her half-way. The two embraced, kissing with a passion that caused the stars to pause for a moment, wondering if a supernova had occurred.

"Hey you two…" The priest started, causing the kiss to come to an end. The couple gave him the exact same surly look as they walked hand-in-hand to the altar, their expressions melting into ecstasy soon after.

"Dearly beloved," the priest began, proceeding to preach for some time about the sanctity of marriage and blessing of commitment. Furrball tried his best to keep his eyes forward and focus on the words, but often found himself looking longingly at Fifi. The skunk, of course was no better.

" I believe you'll have to sit and watch the DVD of this later so you won't forget what I've said," the priest commented as he wrapped up his sermon, causing the two to blush. Handing the microphone to Furrball, the priest squeezed his paw, before the trembling could start. Fifi looked quizzically at the two as Furrball went down the steps.

Wobbling slightly as he held up the mic, Furrball looked up, gazing into Fifi's eyes as the entire church fell silent, wondering what would happen next.

"Oh….my love…my darling…

I've hungered for your touch…

A long…..lonely time…"

It was probably the last thing anyone would have expected… an a cappella rendition of "Unchained Melody" from the shiest student at the Looniversity. It was clear as day that singing put considerable strain on the cat's vocal cords, but the results reduced Fifi to tears of joy, and oddly enough meriting a standing ovation from the entire church, which caused the feline to flinch as he sheepishly handed the mic back to the priest, returning to his place. The cat glanced down at Sparkz, whose wide-eyed look of awe and admiration clued him into the fact that he hadn't blown it after all. Calamity patted his friend on the shoulder, knowingly.

"And now…" the priest began, straightening up, turning the focus to himself once more, "Do you, Furrball Fuego-Torres take Fifi Le Fume as your lawfully wedded wife?

to have, to hold,

to Heaven, not Hell,

to help, not hit,

to heal, not hurt,

through hustle and bustle,

in pain, staying sane

keep her safe without haste

for as long as you both shall live?

Furrball turned to face his love. "I do," he stated with fervor.

"And do you, Fifi Le Fume take Furrball Fuego-Torres

In richer or poorer,

Through mountains or valleys,

In deserts without desserts,

From A.M. to P.M.,

In mayhem and flu season

To the ends of the ink

And as long as you think

For as long as you both shall live?

Fifi returned Furrball's loving gaze. "I do," she spoke, her voice cracking.

"Do you have the rings?"

Furrball retrieved the rings from Sparkz, mussing his son's hair as he did. The young kitten smiled proudly then ran off to join Sylvester, trying his best not to protract his claws as the "Aww" chorus reprieved their mantra.

The two exchanged rings, slowly sliding the shiny silver onto each other's fingers.

"Then if anyone should have any cause why these two should not marry, let them speak now or forever hold their peace!"

Sylvester, Sparkz, Dizzy and all the bridesmaids stood up, looking around, daring anyone to say something with their eyes, subduing the least bit of resistance that might have emerged.

"Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man-err cat and wife. You may now kiss the bride… again."

Neither one needed a second invitation and embraced one another as if they hadn't seen each other in years. Sam had to start playing the wedding march to get the two to let go long enough for Shirley and Calamity to nudge them down the aisle together. The whole world seemed to be spinning as the newlyweds made their way out of the church. Furrball was most unprepared for being pelted with rice and would have bore his fangs had it not been for the occasion.

Making it to Fifi's now souped up DeVille, the two gave the crowd one last wave. Furrball hopped into the front seat, noticing that Fifi was no longer waving, but focused on something. He waved his paw in front of her face, causing the skunk to flash him a look of concern as she closed her door. Without a word, they drove off towards the reception while the guests followed suit, with no one actually noticing the u-turn the lead car did to arrive at the back parking lot of the church moments later.

Furrball remained silent as the skunk turned off the engine. She was visibly shaken and seemed to want to drive off as much as she wanted to stay put. Taking her paws from the steering wheel into his own, the cat smiled as her pressed her paws against his heart. The two sat there as resolved as a statue for a time before Fifi summoned up the courage to exit the vehicle. The feline followed suit and they faced the back entrance of the church together.

"Is it him?"

Her husband's voice seemed to startle Fifi. She could barely nod when the back door opened, revealing an aging skunk donned in a tattered suit that had been mended ten times too many, but appeared to be the only scrap of clothing he had. Furrball couldn't help but step in front of his wife, not comfortable with the distance between father and daughter. The skunk let out an 'I've seen it all' laugh, sizing the cat up, completely ignoring his daughter as he approached.

"Not much to look at, are ya?" The skunk spit on the ground, walking over to Furrball's flank. "Komon ou ye, Fife?"

"N'ap boule," the bride murmured before she could stop herself. It was more of an automated response than anything else.

"You'll have to pardon my Creole, kid. Don't speak much English these days," the skunk's tone softened a bit, but Furrball refused to let down his guard.

"We French know a thing or two about love," he continued amused by the cat's level of alertness. "Not exactly a great first impression, you showin' up late to your own wedding and all."

The cat's eyes narrowed as they locked with those of his father-in law. After a moment the skunk had to turn away, visibly impressed that he could be stared down by a younger one.

"The way you kissed my daughter, though… makes me embarrassed that I never was able to do it like that to my wife. A kiss like that don't lie."

The skunk turned his back to the newlyweds and Fifi pulled on her husband's arm, leading him back to the car. Just before they entered, the skunk spoke once more.

"Chak jou pa Dimanch."

Furrball gave his wife a questioning look as she started to giggle. Turning to face his elder again, Furrball's heart skipped a beat. He was staring straight into the barrel of a small silver pistol. Throwing his arms apart to shield his wife, Furrball scowled as the skunk took aim, firing.

BING!

The bullet missed the cat by at least a meter, settling into grass in the distance. The cat growled, ears flattened, claws protracted as he prepared to rush forward. Instead, the skunk tossed the piece to him, a determined look on his face as well. Catching the pistol, Furrball noticed it only had room for a single bullet.

"You break her heart, and I won't miss next time," the skunk said walking away. "Love is a Derringer, kitten. Ya only get one shot." With that, he disappeared back into the church leaving the two alone in the parking lot. Furrball looked at his wife, then the gun. They both shrugged as they got in, driving off to the reception.

Arriving in the parking lot of the convention center, Furrball had finally managed to take the firing pin out of the pistol, a necessary precaution, lest a certain one-pawed kitten happen upon it in the future. As Fifi began to exit, the cat touched her thigh, stopping her in her tracks.

"Chack oh… wha-?"

It took Fifi a moment to register the inquiry. "'Chak jou pa Dimanch'," she recited slowly, looking out the window. "Not every day is Sunday."

"…"

"It basically means luck doesn't last forever."
Furrball got out of the car, not really acknowledging that he understood the implications of the comment. One would like to think he took it as a compliment, knowing his unlucky days were behind him… Opening the skunk's door, the feline offered his arm, which she gladly accepted.

After taking a couple a steps out of the parking lot, the cat felt the fur on the back of his neck raise, tingling a bit. Spinning around, he saw a vaguely familiar young skunk with goth dreds standing very still, like a mime, with his head bowed next to a Range Rover. It took Furrball a moment to register who it was.

"R to the C?"

The skunk looked up for a moment, ears perking before they suddenly went limp again, along with his expression.

"It's 'Dark Scent' now, if you will," he replied, furiously trying to fit into this role.

"R-Rockee?" Fifi stammered, disturbed at the prospect of seeing the teen's chaperone. "What's with the new look?"
"I welcome it with open arms," came a voice from right. "He's far quieter these days as a result."

All three sets of eyes turned towards Fifi's aunt Inès getting out of the passenger's side. Fifi wasted no time putting up the defenses.

"I don't remember inviting you here."

"And I don't remember you even telling me how serious you two were."

Inès strode past her niece stopping a few feet from Furrball. The cat eyed the neatly wrapped box in her hand. Without a word, she offered the package to the feline, paws shaking as he reluctantly accepted it, still refusing to make eye contact with the older skunk. Furrball glanced over at Fifi, as if to ask what he should do. She shrugged. Sighing, he opened the present, revealing a butcher knife in a wooden box. Taken aback by the gesture, the cat's eyes seemed the glow red as he finally faced the skunk.

Inès shook her head, looking away.

"I wish it were a hatchet," she stated weakly. "Then we could bury it together."

Throughout his life, Furrball had learned to read the souls of many an individual, rarely, if ever allowing personal feelings betray his internal radar. He hadn't expected such words from someone like Inès. Not in a million years.

Inès was quite happy with escaping as the cat ran his fingers thoughtfully across the handle that had struck him in the back in their last encounter. As Furrball touched the cold steel, however, he addressed his younger in-law.

"Got a shovel, D to the S?"

Rockee gave Furrball a look of genuine admiration. Whether it was for modifying his new nickname or returning the gesture to his mother was unclear, though it didn't merit further scrutiny, as Rockee, forgetting his adopted persona raced to the trunk to retrieve the tool. Inès, equally shocked was beside herself as the cat began digging a hole under the shade of a willow tree. As for Fifi, a wave of emotions flooded her mind as she watched the actions transpire. She was impressed by her husband's willingness to forgive and saddened that she, too couldn't yet find it in herself to be as reciprocal.

As the feline dig out the last bit of dirt, he and Rockee grinned at the females standing across from one another, still and silent as corpses. Furrball turned to Rockee to ask a question.

"What's blood supposed to be thicker than?"

Rockee smiled from ear to ear.

"Water."

Furrball placed the box on the ground next to the hole, walking over to the SUV and taking a seat on the hood. Rockee followed suit.

"We made the hole, now it's up to you two to cover it up," the cat announced, allowing his paws to dangle lazily over the side. The ladies looked at the box, then one another. It was clear from Inès' expression that sge wouldn't budge until Fifi made the first step. This indicated to Fifi that her aunt had only come to mend things with her husband, causing the stalemate to linger for a time. Eventually, Rockee cleared his throat.

"You know, some kid could…"

"…with his only paw," Furrball added, causing the standoff to end. Fifi gritted her teeth, let out a sigh, then took her aunt's paw in hers.

"Votre mari est incroyable," Inès managed, feeling the slight warmth of her niece's paw. Fifi finally wore an expression worthy of a bride on her wedding day.

"Of course he's incredible," she whispered, laying the first clump of dirt on the box. As the box disappeared, Furrball's smile beam brighter. Regardless of the intent, circumstances or length of the gesture, for a moment specism was a concept removed from his vocabulary. His burden felt a noticeable amount lighter.

"Let's go before they start to leave the reception," he announced as the hole disappeared for good. Taking Fifi's paw in one and offering his other to his aunt-in-law, the cat smirked.

"Don't think you can run off that quickly."

Finally allowing herself to grin back at her new nephew, Inès accepted the blue paw.

Nobody, including a certain inebriated green mallard, asked the newlyweds about their slightly dusty threads. If nothing else, it seemed to enhance their character, though Plucky did nearly slip up commenting to Hamton that he certainly wasn't going to be the one to get the tux dry-cleaned.

Going through their initial rounds, meeting and greeting the guests at their tables, they noticed Sparkz sitting with Dr. Alva's family, the one-eyed bandito included in the fold. Nurse Shannon had opted to sit with them as well, feeling a bit out of place with so few of her own species present. Furrball felt sorry for the discomfort he read on her face, but couldn't suppress the evil thought of the tipped scale of justice from invading his psyche. The cat shook away the smirk that was beginning to form on his lips as he accepted the congratulations from those at the table.

Even Milo seemed in good spirits, though Furrball guessed it was more because he could see Sparkz again. The thought warmed him from the inside; his son having a friend, probably even a best friend. Something he'd never experienced as a kitten. Turning his direction to his partner he read in her eyes that she could read his mind. The two kissed, moving on.

As they came to the end of the room, Fifi nudged her husband, pulling his ear close.

"Who are they, love?"

Furrball grinned. He loved it when she tried out her Catonese. Noticing the object of her inquisition, the feline scratched his head. That same family of cats from the wedding on his side were standing around, looking at their shoes. Furrball shrugged, looking over at Calamity, who did the same. Slowly approaching the group, as he would on the streets, the blue cat addressed the queen, as the tom seemed very skittish.

Hello.

The entire group tensed up, causing Furrball to back away slightly. He looked at Fifi, a bit puzzled.

"Maybe they don't speak Catonese…"

Furrball stared at his wife, wondering at her words.

"W-w-w-we d-d-d-do," the female spoke up, eyes still diverted. Fifi stared at the cat, her stutter instantly reminding her of Furrball's now extinct impediment.

"I don't think we've met before," Furrball found speaking English to be slightly more comfortable in this situation for some reason.

No, we haven't. We're sorry to have crashed your wedding.

"It's fine, really. The more the merrier and all. Although may I ask who you are?"

This is my mate, Vicente. I'm Calisto. These are our kittens, Branca, Simao and Carmelo.

"Nice to meet you. This is my wife, Fifi and I'm-"

We know who you are.

"…Yes, of course, you were at the wedding, after all." Furrball squeezed his wife's paw. She smiled at him, trying her best to keep up. It was like trying understand a whole phone conversation while only hearing one speaker talk.

Vicente was in trouble with the law for the longest time, especially after I got pregnant.

"Here, let's sit down. I insist," Furrball spoke up, pointing to the nearby empty table. Reluctantly, the family complied, aside from Vicente, who still looked very ashamed of himself for some reason.

"That's better," Furrball said, surprised to hear himself directing and even speaking so much in a single setting. "Now, you were saying?"

We needed food and there wasn't enough to scavenge. Vicente, he's from Amazônia, so when he arrived here, he didn't know any better.

"Wait, as in The Amazon?"

Yes. He is from Brasil. Wanted to raise our family in a traditional setting so we stayed in a park. Supported the two of us by stealing and fighting.

Furball looked at Vicente who still hadn't moved. His patience was wearing thin on finding out why they had come, but he chose to not press the matter.

He was always in trouble with the law, but when I got pregnant with these three, he jumped bail.

At the mention of "bail", Furrball's ears perked and his mind started revving at a million miles a minute. Fifi could scarcely contain her own patience, noticing the look on her husband drastically change.

This bounty hunter caught him one day. He had a horrible reputation for his treatment of bail jumpers. But when he caught Vicente, he was actually gentle with him. He ended up giving us the money he made from the job, plus some more to me to help support our kittens. Before he left, he made sure I was safe for the time Vicente was locked away which ended up being a lot shorter than expected, which I think had something to do with him as well. Now Vicente has a job and he's really cleaned up… we live in a nice, roomy tree house not too far from here.

"So the bounty hunter was…"

Benicio Fuego-Torres. Your father, no doubt.

Vicente finally reared his head looking up at the newlyweds.

"You didn't know him well, but he told me he didn't want my kids growing up without a father. He was a good cat. You need to know that." Vicente's voice was soft, carrying a similar accent to Benicio's. He revealed two neatly wrapped boxes, handing the larger one to Fifi and the smaller to Furrball. Fifi opened hers to find a black snub-nosed revolver with the cylinder missing. She cocked her head, confused by the gesture.

"Benicio gave it to my wife for protection while I was away."

The adults took turns embracing, all run out words. As the family started to get up to leave, Fifi nodded to the three little angels.

"They look hungry. Stay for a while, won't you?"

Before it was time to cut the cake, Shirley and Babs whisked Fifi away, citing that they had to freshen up the bride for her first dance. Furrball shrugged as the females disappeared. Looking around, he noticed Sylvester and Sparkz staring a hole into him. Curiosity piqued, he made his way over to them. Arriving at the table, seeing the open bottles, the blue cat a tingle of déjà vu.

"We have to borrow the groom for a moment," Sylvester announced, getting up. Wrapping an arm around Furrball's shoulder, the black cat led him to the exit. The way they were walking, it was hard not to compare them to father and son. Sparkz followed suit along with Tres.

Outside and away prying eyes, the cats surrounded Furrball, making it feel all the more uncomfortable.

You were late!

Sparkz beat Sylvester to the punch, citing the reason for the sudden animosity.

You were fighting again, weren't you?

Furrball looked at Sylvester wide-eyed at the sudden realization. This wasn't the right way to start out a marriage. He'd taken a huge risk without even thinking about it. And yet…

Couldn't have been Johnny. That's for damn sure.

The twisted expression on Sylvester's was almost enough for Furrball to inquire the condition of the skunk, though he refrained. The less one knows about something like that, the better.

Leave 'im alone already. It's obvious he was kicking some canine ass!

The pequeño activista piped up, having no love lost for the canine kind. Furrball frowned. Tres wasn't exactly the best influence on his son, and yet he'd hit the bull's eye, leaving little room for a high horse.

Look, whatever the case is, you have got to stop playing 'Little Blue Vigilante'. You're married now, for cryin' out loud.

I have a question.

Furrball spoke as if he hadn't even heard the chastisement, remembering a strange detail.

Have you ever come across a cat without a scent before?

Sylvester, Sparkz and Tres exchanged glances. As if choreographed, they burst out in exaggerated laughter at the same time.

Yeah, yeah. With silver fur and a super long tail, eh?

Furrball's eyes dilated in amazement, staring at Tres.

…What?

There was nothing phony about the blue cat's expression, which prompted another round of looks.

And lime green eyes.

Furrball added to the description, kneeling down before Tres.

How did you know?

Sylvester, being the oldest, was more skeptical than the others.

Stop playing. Don't tell me you've never heard of Zhaxmio before.

The blue cat drew a blank.

How could you not know?

Papa wasn't raised by anyone, I think, right? It was years before he even met another cat.

Then how'd he learn Catonese?
The pound.

Furrball addressed the three, still confused.

What's a Zhaxmio?

Sparkz?

…Can we even talk about her?

As long as you only do it in Catonese.

Oh.

Well?

Zhaxmio… she's like a spirit, right? She watches over the poor cats in the world, kind of like a protector. She's really shy as the legend goes and no one ever rally sees her unless she needs them to.

Why can you only talk about her in Catonese?

Not only that, but only to other cats from the street. If you mention her in a foreign tongue to another species, during the next crescent moon, you'll be dead.

…

But it's just a story, right?

Just because you might be able to survive getting hit by lightening doesn't mean you should run outside in a thunderstorm wearing metal pants, kid.

True, true.

Is there supposed to be a reason for her to see me?

Did she look at you?

Furrball frowned. Sylvester grabbed him by the collar.

What happened?

I saw these three dogs chasing her into an alley. I helped her out and she looked me in the eye from a distance.

The other cats fell silent, staring intently at Furrball.

What does that mean? She kind of disappeared when I scared the dogs off.

You're… you're no longer under her protection now.

Which means…

She's going to take away what you needed to stay alive on the streets.

…Why?

Because that would keep you from being happy as a …domestic.

…

You can't ever mention this to Fifi, of course. Or anyone else.

Have you ever seen her?

Of course not! She's very selective.

Sylvester produced a switchblade, handing it to Furrball.

"Everyone's throwing guns and knives at me today!"

"It's for your protection," the black cat explained, oblivious to the lack of hyperbole. "You no longer have nine lives anymore. Not that I really believe all that s-s-s-superstitious s-s-s-stuff."

Furrball smiled, handing the knife back to his elder.

"Still have these," he declared, brandishing his claws. The four walked silently back to the reception, Sylvester smiling to himself, having a newfound respect for his protégé.

Koyangi Quest -Episode 01 (season 2)

A thin blanket of rolling fog brushes past the countryside, giving the landscape a swishing effect. It is yet unclear whether the time is dusk or dawn, as the light of the sun seems all but apparent. Silhouettes of hills of a varying degree of sizes stand guard on the horizon as figure of humble proportions trudges forward, slowly becoming distinguishable.

On his belt, a short sword randomly catches the light. His paeraengi awkwardly balances atop the cat's head, obviously having finished its last days as a proper head covering years ago. A neutral expression suggesting the feline's placid aspiration is difficult to miss on his face as he pushes a makeshift buggy along, its contents concealed at the present.

As the sun greets the worn feline from top to bottom, the cat stops to appreciate the impressive scenery around him. Wrinkling his nose, the feline's eyes dart around, indicating his situational awareness. Tossing his hat to the ground, the lone traveler draws his blade.

HIGHWAYMAN 1

Toll time, kitty kitty!

A pack of five striped hyenas wielding heavy clubs surround the traveler. The cat is uncharacteristically on edge for some reason.

HIGHWAYMAN 3

We'll start by taking whatever ya got in the

rolling basket over there. Don't be stupid.

One of the thieves reaches for the carriage, causing the cat to draw his sword, cutting the hyena's arm. As the feline outmaneuvers two of the others, a third attack smashes his club on the cat's back, knocking him face first in the dirt. Kicking the cat's blade away, the bleeding hyena squats down over the feline, sitting on his back. Pulling the cat's head up roughly, he whispers into the cat's ear.

HIGHWAYMAN 1

Would've just knocked ya out, but

Now we're gonna club ya to a pulp, kitty kitty.

The others are too distracted watching their leader taunt their fallen victim to see a one-pawed kitten emerged from the carriage with a telescoping spear in hand. The kitten jabs his blade into the leader's head without hesitation, causing the hyena to fall off of the cat. Wasting no time, the blue cat reaches out, retrieving his blade.

…

Although both verbally articulated how cheesy and stereotypical a Hawaiian honeymoon would be, both secretly loved the idea of a trip to Honolulu. Fifi, previously unknown to her husband was actually an avid surfer in her younger days, even having won a number of competitions in Huntington Beach. Furrball, on the other hand was not a fan of the ocean in any sense of the word, but had always been fascinated by sand dunes. Young Sparkz, who was from an island, had never actually set foot on a beach before, let alone a hotel resort. Thus, the young family headed for Waikiki.

For the majority of the first day, they spent most of their time waiting in line or dodging random reporters, hungry for the scoop of a possible new power couple. Season one of Furrball's show had yet to air, which meant it was entirely possible that they wouldn't be completely swamped the entire time. The sun was simply too hot to brave the beach in the daytime and way too many other couples had the exact same idea of walking along the beach during the sunset, so Fifi and Furrball found themselves spending the first night in their suite. This certainly wouldn't have been such a bad thing in Fifi's mind, except the strawberry/pineapple cocktail Furrball had with dinner caused him to pass out the second they dimmed the lights. Needless to say the purple skunk was less than amused.

A sudden draft sent chills up the skunk's spine. Instinctively reaching for her other half, Fifi opened her eyes when she grabbed onto nothing. Rolling on her back, the skunk was confused. Had this all been a dream? It seemed so real that Furrball had finally opted to share a bed with her and yet once again she was alone. Sighing, the skunk sat up, looking at the clock on the wall. 4:22. As she rolled over, wondering what to do next, her eyes came upon an open window. Jumping out of her sheet, the skunk backed up, slamming into something in the darkness, knocking it over. Yelping with surprise, Fifi rolled out of the way flipping on the light switch. There, on the floor lay her husband, rubbing his head. He smiled sheepishly at the skunk as he slowly made it to his feet.

"What're you-"

"Shh," the cat put his finger to his wife's lips, inadvertently starting an embrace. He felt guilty, feeling her heart pumping so fast. "I'm sorry," he whispered, causing Fifi to hug back.

Letting go, the feline nodded to the open window. Fifi cocked her head, thoroughly confused.

"C'mon. We haven't got much time."

Rather than asking the obvious, Fifi decided to put her full trust in her husband following him to the window. She was silent as he fitted a safety vest around her, strapping a couple of D-rings from his belt to hers.

"Just in case," he explained as the repelled twenty stories from their hotel room to the ground. Even with the street lights in the parking lot visibility was nigh impossible for the skunk. Furrball had no problem navigating her past civilization. After a time, Fifi could smell the sea and feel the sand on her toes. Still a curious, but not wanting to spoil whatever surprise her husband had in mind, she complied silently, comforted by her company. His fur felt warmer than it had only days ago, she noticed. Arriving at a neatly spread blanket lit by a smoky torch, Furrball finally turned to his lover. Fifi looked around. Even with her limited vision, she could tell this was a remote part of the beach, probably a well-kept secret that few could even stumble upon. She could hear the sea and barely make out the blanket, but that was about it. Taking a seat, Fifi looked up at her husband, his fur highlighted by the torch, making him seem to glow in the moonlight.

"The surfers won't be out for another hour or so and the winds aren't supposed to be so great today. Besides, they don't venture out this far in the first place."

Fifi kept her attention on Furrball, saying nothing. The cat swallowed hard before continuing.

"Well, I'm from the outside, so I'm most comfortable in nature. And since we're married, now, I thought we could…we should…I mean I want to. I hope you want to…you know… make..."

"Love?" Fifi finally saved the cat from himself. Even in the dark she could see that his cheeks were as red as beets. Furrball nodded. Before either one could say anything, the wind picked up for a brief moment, extinguishing the torch. Needless to say their close proximity required no light at all.

The sun greeted the newlyweds at six o'clock exactly. As he'd predicted, no surfers were around. Walking hand-in-hand along the sea line, the couple made their way back to the hotel. Their footprints sank in the sand as they strolled lazily from the beach. When the cat and skunk were out of sight, a soft wave hit the shore causing the four paw prints to disappear forever.

-The End-