Hello everyone!

I present to you chapter 9 of Saving Wilde!

I don't own any Disney characters

Things had changed between Judy and John, although the rabbit couldn't quite put her finger on it. She still spent almost her every free moment with him, and they still seemed to understand each other perfectly. If anything, their trust should have grown, as they learned more about each other every day. But she had noticed something new too. Something unfamiliar and unpleasant. A certain, peculiar, and almost inarticulable distance had begun to grow between them. She felts its presence even if she could not understand why it was there.

She wracked her brain, trying to pin down just when she had begun to notice it, or perhaps even what had caused it. Could it have been something she had said? No, though perhaps sharing with him her boyfriend troubles may have been a mistake. He hadn't seemed prepared for that conversation, and it was as if they were back where they had began, more than a month ago. John subtly trying to turn the conversation away from anything personal. But then he seemed to do that for everything now. There had been a time, not too long ago, in which nothing was off limits, every topic was on the table. But that wasn't so now. John was receding back upon himself before her eyes, and she couldn't understand why. All the worse was that he made it all seem so natural for him, like the friendly openness she had tasted was actually an anomaly, and he was simply returning things back to normal.

It must have been something she had done then, nothing else made sense. Her mind returned to the night she had arrived back from the City, defeated and broken, as it had so many times since.

She had called Jeremy on the way home as she said she would. Despite the way they had parted, she felt he deserved that at least. It had been a mistake, not because of anything Jeremy had said, but the admission of failure had been terribly embarrassing. He didn't really believe she could do it, and she had proven him right. It had been a painful conversion, and it left her feeling even worse about herself than when she had found out she had failed the test. But it had also left her with one other thing: a tremendous desire to see the one mammal she knew who had seemed to understand her vision, John Gibbon. It was strange to her, that the only one on the planet who seemed to get her, was a fox she had found washed up on her riverbank. But perhaps Frith above had listened to her pleas for help, and sent one of his messengers to guide her back to the path she had always known was hers.

She rolled over in her bed and chuckled at the thought. That John Gibbon could be a messenger from above. So silly, better fit for a naive kitten rather than an adult rabbit like herself. But while he may not have been sent from God, John was certainly a godsend.

He had caught her, as she tumbled downwards in despair, just as she had wanted to him to, knew he would. That strange fox who temporarily lived naught but a short jaunt from her room. And she held onto him desperately, felt his fur against her face, was surrounded by his warmth, let his scent fill her, listened to his heart beat inside his chest, slow, strong, and steady. He had lifted her up, again, from the pit she found herself in. Talked her back from the precipice. So easily too. He had simply told her that she could do it, and to try again. Well, he had said more than that, much more, but that had been the essence. It had been a beautiful moment, wrapped there in his arms, whispering into each others ears, truly getting a feel for one another. She had felt a connection that night, as if where she was had been exactly the place she was supposed to be.

And then it was over, John gently shooing her from his room.

That was it, the point where everything began to go south, it had to be. She would have stayed, for at least a little longer, basking in his warmth, catching up on all the things she had missed in the days she had been gone in the City. But he had cut it short. And things just weren't the same afterwards.

If she were honest with herself, and she had made it a point lately to do so, things had changed. And it was more than just John's inexplicable aloofness. There was an unfamiliar awkwardness now. The easy familiarity and friendly affection that had so characterized their relationship up until then hadn't disappeared, but it was slipping away, moment by moment.. And now, her visits to him were becoming almost painful.

It terrified her that her failure to get into the academy might have actually caused him to think less of her. And now he was dismissing her in much the same way so many had before him. No, no, that couldn't be it, despite all the change between them, he had been clear on that. Don't. Give. Up. If anything, he had been all the more adamant in the last few days. It seemed to be the last common ground they had at all, and he was not afraid to tread upon it.

Something far worse crossed her mind then: What if… what if he had felt the same sort of connection she had, but had rejected it? As if it had been wrong somehow. As if the last mammal on earth which he would wish to share something like that with was her.

"Stop it Judy," she said aloud. She knew that that wasn't what was going on, and even if it was, it didn't matter. She could admit it, she had a tiny, itsy bitsy crush on him. Despite his being a fox he really was oh so very dashing. But she was letting that cloud her judgement. Things between them were not good, and she didn't know what to do about it. And worrying about a silly crush wasn't helping. It was just all so frustrating, he was her friend, still her friend. He was somehow the one mammal she had met who seemed to understand her. And she didn't want to lose that. The very prospect terrifying. He was a fantastic mammal, a fantastic fox. But she found herself at a loss for why she no longer could quite seem to understand him. Before this unpleasant turn she had felt herself at the cusp of putting his parts together. Understanding, at least on some level, what made him go. But now she felt farther away than ever, the line slipping further from her paws with each new interaction.

But she couldn't, wouldn't let it go so easily. She had done that before, did it even now, but this, this, she would not let go. So she groped, trying to rekindle what they had had before. She would force conversion even when uncomfortable silence was seemingly all that could pass between them, stayed in his room far longer than she was welcome, though before there had never been a time when she wasn't. John wasn't cruel about it, far from it. He maintained his playful demeanor. But his tone, almost indiscernibly, was edged with with something she couldn't quite place.

It had been three days of this. Three days of awkward silences, listless conversations, and uncomfortable looks. It was starting affect her. Her mother had been prodding her about her sour mood, and her boyfriend… She wished she had not told Jeremy. They could have been together a while longer if she had said nothing. Maybe if she had picked a better time to tell him she might have convinced him. But she had rushed into it, hopeful that he would understand as John had. He hadn't, though he tried, and now she had all but broken up with one of the best bunnies she had ever met.

She let out a frustrated sigh and glanced at her clock. 1:47 AM. She groaned inwardly, now she was losing sleep over this. Darn that fox. The way he was acting made her so angry. It was so juvenile. If he had a problem, the least he could do was tell her what it was, and they could get past it. It was the least he could do, she had certainly poured her heart out to him on more than one occasion. And if couldn't return the favor… well, he was being a jerk, that was for sure, and tomorrow morning he would know it.

The thought made her feel better somewhat. Now she had something to look forward to, a goal in mind. It wouldn't be fun, but it couldn't be any worse than the limbo she found herself in now.

She heard something then, faint, muffled, almost drowned out by her own internal monologue, which was immediately derailed. It was like the air pressure in her room had changed ever so slightly. But she felt it and she heard it.

She was suddenly overcome with the feeling that something important was happening, the world moving rapidly around her, and something, somewhere, was screaming at her to investigate. Her mind immediately returned to Jonathan.

He was up!

The thought rang out in her mind like a gunshot. His room wasn't so far, and it was possible that she might be able to hear the door… if someone slammed it. No the thought was silly, he wasn't going anywhere. Not yet. He still had 3 weeks till he was off bedrest, he wouldn't be wandering about at this hour. Still, it wouldn't hurt to check.

She went to her door, cracked it open, and listened.

There was nothing, she heard nothing. No sounds at all coming from the rest of the burrow, things were as they should be. She felt a little silly then, for being so paranoid but what–

Ah– fuck…

She heard the curse, just barely. The sound wafting down the hall on a breeze. But it had been there, she was certain of that. There was only one mammal in this burrow that would curse like that, though she had to admit he had gotten better about it. John. She didn't know what he was up to, but there was no way she was going to let him sneak around the burrow like this. She had to investigate and stop him. She slipped from her room, and followed her quarry down the hall.

John's room was empty, as she suspected it would be, though she had had to check. The state of it shocked her however. It was like he had never been there at all. The beds had been returned to their places along the far wall, each made up just so. The desk clean and tidy, clear of all her books and all the strange writings. There was an air of finality to the place, every sign of him scrubbed from existence. It left her with a pit in her stomach, and her mind struggled to understand what it all meant.

He couldn't be leaving, he still had three weeks, that was a lot of time. It didn't make any sense. And why wouldn't he have said anything? Their friendship may have been going through a bit of a rough patch, but that was no reason just to up and leave. Things could still be mended, it didn't have to end this way! She was becoming frantic as she charged down the hall after him desperate to stop him. How could he do this? So what if she had failed the test?! So what if she had a crush on him?! That was no reason to up and leave. There was still time to fix things!

She tore through the burrow then, any desire to be discrete forgotten. But she didn't find him, and since that faint curse in the hallway she hadn't heard a single sound that might give away his whereabouts. She cursed herself for ruining what she had had with him. If she hadn't been so weak, such a dumb, emotional bunny, none of this would have happened. John would still be there in his room where he belonged, and she would still have her friend. The only friend she had that seemed to wish for her dreams to be realized. It was all her fault, and as she approached the entrance hall, tears began to stream down her face. She wouldn't let it end like this. If she could just talk to him, everything would be fine, everything would be-

She had hesitated at the front door, paw on the handle, terrified at the prospect that he may not actually be out there, that he was gone for good, or perhaps even worse. But she had to know, just had to. If she didn't open the door in front of her and find out she would always regret it. She overcame her apprehension, grasped the handle firmly, and stepped into the night beyond.

There was hardly any moonlight, and what little light filtered through the overcast did little more than illuminate dim undefinable shapes in the distance. It took her a moment for her eyes to really adjust to the gloom, though perhaps adjust wasn't the right word, her eyes had never been very good in the dark. She stepped away from the door, away from the front of the burrow, hoping beyond hope to catch a glimpse of something, hear anything. He had to be out there in the dark, going somewhere far away…

And then she heard it, a crunching scrape, somewhere down the driveway. She brought her ears to bear on the source and… there it was again! Yes, she had definitely heard someone walking, or judging by the irregular pace, limping. It was John! It had to be. She started down the driveway, not too fast, the possibility of it not actually being him had snuck into her mind, and it would be no good to barge into a stranger in the darkness. The sound grew louder, closer now, and she thought she could just make him out in the darkness. And then she could, and it was definitely him, he was leaning on one of his crutches as he walked, his normally vibrant red fur ruddy in the gloom.

It was him, it was really him. She could hardly contain her excitement. Never before in her life had she been so happy to see someone, and yet when she tried to call to him her voice failed her. Her words catching in her throat. She was so happy to see him, so immeasurably happy, and yet, it was bittersweet, the knowledge that he was making his escape poisoning the moment. She didn't understand it, felt responsible for it, didn't know how to make it right, and for moment thought that perhaps it was best to just let him go. NO! A voice shouted in her mind, he wasn't going to leave without talking to her first.

"John…?" she said, almost afraid to interrupt the stillness. "John…?" louder now, with more feeling. "John?!" She hadn't shouted, not quite, but it had much the same effect. He stopped, but didn't turn around, his ears the only part of him showing any sign of life, aimed back towards her as best they could. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew she was there, had known, ever since she opened the door. And it made her angry. Angry that he would choose to ignore her like that. Didn't their friendship mean more than that? He began to move again, took another step forward, and now Judy shouted, "Jonathan!" He stopped again, flinching at the sound, and this time he turned around.

"Ok, ok..." It was all he said.

She approached him, not sure what to say next, on each step she alternated between being angry with him, and happy that he was still there. She wanted to shout and scream and yell. Tell him what a jerk he had been for the last three days, and what a jerk he was being now, and as she did those things she wanted to hug him and never let go. But when she came to stand in front of him and looked into his eyes, saw the pained expression he wore, all of that fell away, and all she could ask was, "Why?"

John looked away momentarily, embarrassment crossing his visage, and then her met her gaze again and said, "It's… time for me to go." He said it without much conviction, his eyes falling away from hers as the words left his mouth.

"No, no, you still have three weeks…"

"No I don't, I have to go back."

His responses just didn't sound right. They were mechanical, unfeeling, like he had rehearsed them beforehand. And each time he spoke she inched closer, trying to catch his eye.

She couldn't bear it, this awkward interrogation. It was going nowhere, and served no purpose other than to be painful. And so, she laid herself bare.

"What did I do John, why are you leaving?" her voice wavered, and she felt tears at the edges of her eyes, she was almost touching him now. "You have to tell me John. I can fix it. You don't have to go..."

"You did nothing," he said softly, gazing down into her eyes. "It not your fault, please don't think that because it isn't true." He almost chuckled, the hitch in his voice lightening his words. And then she was in his arms, pressed against him, and she pressed back. She felt as she had three nights ago as she lay in his arms. For a brief moment there was nothing else but him, totally engulfing her every sense, and she was happy. But she still had to know.

"Then why?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, and John sighed. "It's not your fault. Just know that ok?"

"No, I want you to stay, but if you aren't going to, the least you could do is tell me why, John!"

"I–" he paused, as if trying to find the right words.

"John?" she prodded.

He grimaced, looked her square in the eye and said, "Stop calling me that."

Judy suddenly had the feeling she had lost the plot, and she blinked up at him, uncomprehending.

"It's not my name," he continued regretfully, his expression one of deep sadness.

"What do you mean it's not your name?" Dread, that was all she felt now as she looked at him. Jonathan wasn't his name? She could only imagine a few reasons why he would have lied about something like that, and each was worse than the last. She looked at him, as if seeing him truly for the first time. If he had lied about that then what else had he lied about?

Everything. A voice in her head answered. He had lied about everything. The gun, oh gods! She pushed herself from his embrace. He was dangerous, a predator, and she had let him into her house. Had defended him from her family. He had used her, and now he was leaving to go back to the life of crime he no doubt led.

She backed away fearfully, stealing glances back at the front of the burrow. Could she call out? Run? She had to get away from him.

"Wait! Judy, please, hear me out."

She stopped, despite herself, and looked at him, not sure what to expect.

"I told you a false name… I thought it would protect you, all of you," and he gestured towards the burrow, "in case anyone ever came looking for me…" he let out a regretful chuckle, "I don't swim in the nicest lakes you know?" He searched her face and then continued, "Being undercover, I don't deal with nice mammals, and if the mob knew I was alive and living here... I didn't want to bring any more danger down upon you than I already was simply by staying here. It was stupid though. I told you I was a cop, not knowing my name wouldn't have protected you from anything… I didn't really think it through... I just can't stand it, hearing you call me that anymore." The explanation made sense, quite a lot of it actually, he was an undercover cop investigating gangsters, and if they somehow found he might be at the burrow… the thought was too frightening to explore further. The fear drained from her but her trust in him had been shaken, even if he lied to her with the best of intentions that still left so much up in the air, and she found herself wondering how someone could live with themselves after lying like he had. And he was right, it the lie wouldn't have protected anything. She didn't like this new revelation about him. It lowered him greatly in her eyes. It wasn't a betrayal, but it felt like it, and what did he mean he couldn't stand her saying it? She took another step back from him, unconsciously hoping the distance might help her better process all of this. It hurt so badly, the lie. Whatever his intentions, that was what it had been.

She looked at him painfully and said, "H-how?"

He grit his teeth at her gaze, and almost seemed to wither before her, but he continued all the same. "I'm sorry," he shook his head sadly, "I'm so sorry. I thought it was for the best."

"Wh- what's your name then?" She asked hesitantly.

He gave her a half smile, though there was no feeling behind it. "It's Nick... Nicholas Wilde."

Nicholas… it fit him, she had to admit. He lived a wild life, that was for sure. The thought made her feel bad for him, genuinely so. He made so much more sense now. The evasiveness, the reluctance to share his past or anything else personal. She wondered how he could live like that, how anyone could live like that. Not trusting anyone, building an entire life around a lie. She had read books about undercover police, and had read again and again about the toll it took upon the officers' lives. Living in constant fear of being discovered, sacrificing personal connections for the job, sometimes even having to participate in the worst depravities of the criminals they were investigating all for the sake of maintaining a cover. It could be a terrible life, one filled with heartache and sorrow.

But none of that softened the blow of these new revelations about him. And she stopped herself from asking him anymore questions. She resigned herself then to the reality that was laid in front of her. He was leaving, and it was probably for the best. That way she wouldn't discover the other places he might have lied. She wasn't angry with him, just exhausted, with him and with all the rest of it. And in that state of exhaustion she said something which she would immediately regret.

"You should go."

The surprise was evident on his face, and she, horrified at what she had just said, tried to cover it up, explain it away, but he stopped her. Told her he understood and that he would leave, get out of her fur. But she told him, vehemently, the he must stay and that she wanted him as deep in her fur as he could go. He laughed at that, and said, "Do all rabbits' minds go to that sort of place so quickly, or is it just you?"

The comment stopped her dead in her tracks, the insides of her ears turning a bright red. The mood lightened palpably.

"That's not what I-"

"You know," Nick interrupted her with a playful glint in his eye. "You're such a good sport. Its one of the reasons I like you so much. It takes a special kind of mammal to put up with me."

"You're not as bad as you think you are, despite your best efforts," she replied, doing her best not to read too deeply into his comment.

He chuckled and then, his tone suddenly somber again, "I am sorry for lying to you, it was a mistake…"

"I'm mad at you for it."

"I understand."

"And you have been a major jerk for the last three days!"

"You're absolutely right. I've been terrible."

"And you didn't lie about anything else?"

"Cross my heart."

She paused, considering, and then said, "I'm still mad."

"And I still understand."

There was a long pause then, neither sure where to go next. And then Judy finally broke the silence.

"Do you really have to go Nick?"

He sighed, "Yes. It's time for me to go back."

She hugged him again. "Will you… come to my graduation? When I pass the academy?"

He looked down at her, the affection evident on his face, "I wouldn't miss it."

"You had better not."

He hugged her tighter and then held her out in front of him, and there was moment, when she looked up into his eyes, that she thought, hoped even, that he would kiss her... But it passed as quickly as it came, and she was left with nothing but a rapidly beating heart.

He hugged her a final time, lingering just long enough for her to notice his own heart pounding in his chest, and said, "I am glad I met you Judy."

"Yeah, I am pretty great aren't I?"

"Ho ho," his laugh was full and hearty, and she revelled in it, "you have been spending too much time with me I think!"

There were tears then, not many, but they fell all the same. Because she knew she hadn't spent nearly enough.

It was a long walk.

After they had parted, he told himself he wouldn't look back. Wouldn't make it any more painful than it already was. But he couldn't help himself, he had barely gone a dozen meters when he had done just that.

She had gotten to him, somehow. Slipped right between the joints of his armor, and made him violate one of the most important of the set of rules he lived by: stay detached... be forgettable.

Developing that skill had served him so well over the years. He was able to drift in an out of a place and simply blend in. No one ever knew him, and he certainly wasn't notable. Just another fox in a world full of them. The invisible mammal.

But not here, at this burrow. He had made a connection with one of the rabbits. And it wasn't just one between friendly acquaintances, it ran far deeper than he could ever hope to articulate. And if he were honest with himself, he didn't want to, terrified at what it might bring up in him.

And good lords, they had almost kissed!

And she was a rabbit! The thought was galling to him even now. Of all the creatures on the earth, it had to be a rabbit. But then perhaps that was a blessing in disguise, she would be easy to forget, he reasoned, not believing it for a moment. But then he had to rationalize it somehow. The ease at which she had slipped under his guard and was now stuck there was alarming.

But then… he didn't regret a moment of it. And he knew that despite the sheer oddity of it all, he would always look back upon this month or so as one of the most singularly happy times of his life. When all he had to worry about was whether or not Bonny would forget to bring him lunch, and he could look forward to the delightful company of a one, Judith Hopps. It had been a temporary reprieve from his difficult life, as if he had been passing through the eye of a hurricane. And as he stepped into the nondescript van parked at the end of the driveway, he got the distinct feeling that he was diving head first right back into it.

He said nothing at first to the diminutive driver, who, judging by the smell, had apparently spent his time waiting chain smoking.

"You look like shit."

"Hah," Nick leaned back in his seat, paws clasped behind his head, "I've been getting that a lot lately."

"Maybe if you weren't such a cocky fuckhead you wouldn't go sticking your head where it don't belong. Like in the middle of a bomb. Then you wouldn't look like you do."

Nick shot Finnick a toothy grin, "It's good to see you too buddy."

Finnick grunted. "I'm just glad you aren't dead. I don't think the ZIA would keep paying me if you died."

"It's ok to admit you missed me Finnick."

"Fuck off, Nick."

Nick stifled a laugh. Finnick had always been like this, ever since he met him. But, he did care, or he wouldn't be out here in the middle of nowhere at 1am.

"So the bunnies treat you well?"

"As well as can be expected I guess."

"That one who caught you outside really seemed to like you," Finnick said with a sneer.

Oh shit, Finnick had seen them.

"That wasn't anything." Fuck, it wasn't anything, not really, nor would it ever be.

The truth in that statement wouldn't save him him now.

"Hey, hey, I am not one to judge where you stick your dick."

"Woah, that is not what happened."

"I am sure it's not," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I just never saw you as one to go after prey, especially a rabbit!"

"I did not fuck a bunny!"

"Careful there Nick, I think they prefer to be called rabbits. Might want to remember that the next time you get one in your bed!"

"Oh my gods Finnick, shut the fuck up…"

His baritone cackle filled the van. "You should probably keep your hands to yourself next time. That's how rumors start."

Nick didn't respond, knowing that doing so he would simply prolong his embarrassment. And indeed, he was embarrassed. Why must it be a rabbit of all things that moved him so? That filled his mind in moments of idleness?

He wanted her, every bit. Though the very admission made his throat tighten, and sent blood rushing to his ears. He wanted her badly, to feel her all over himself, know her, inside and out. He found himself imagining the what the rest of his life was like if she were in it: good, happy, an excellent life. The fantasy only further soured his mood.

He wanted what he could never have, knew it would be wrong on so many levels. Not the least of those being that he was a fox and she a bunny. But knowing that only made his desire stronger. The taboo making it all just that much more exciting.

But then perhaps that was the source of all of this. That taboo. Why else would he be so infatuated with that rabbit? It made sense in a way. He was not normally one to be so taken by anyone, and while she did have a certain allure… an undeniable allure… she was just a bunny.

Yes, it was a very nice fantasy, but that's all it would ever be, and he would be happier if he just forgot it all.

Everything he had done. All of it, every comment, every motion, had all been for a single purpose, he reminded himself. It wasn't about her, or even him really, it was all for the sake of his mission. He was the will of the Zootopian government made manifest. He was a tool with which Zootopia could destroy its enemies and assure its friends. A lens through which the government could come to understand the world and act upon it. His being nice, or if he had chosen another route, was not personal. It was simply a result of his assessment of what was most effective at keeping himself safe so that he could continue his work. That was all...

He chuckled at himself inwardly. It sounded silly when said like that. Too grandiose, made him sound too self important. Even more so because it wasn't really true. He wasn't a machine, despite how hard he tried to act like one at times. And the ZIA usually didn't ask him to be one. All they asked was that he be effective, and there was no denying that he was. So he had let her get to him. Just a little. Pretending otherwise wouldn't solve the problem, only prolong the suffering. His choice to be nice and kind when he first awoke had been the result of that assessment. That being friendly would get him exactly what he wanted. And it had worked perfectly. Perhaps too perfectly... His responding to her calls into the night, moments before, had not been the result of anything of the sort however. Hearing her like that… he knew then he couldn't leave without saying anything, despite it being what he should have done. Knew he had to see her one more time and explain to her why he was leaving. It may not have been right for his job. But it was right for him.

"Ignaci wants to see you," Finnick finally broke the silence.

"Oh? What does he want?"

"To tell you you're an idiot… and probably that they want your back in Artica."

"Why? I thought I was done there. What's going on?" He hid his excitement. That would get him far away from Zootopia, let him clear his head.

Finnick sighed. "You think they tell me anything?"

Nick grinned at him. "No, but that never seems to stop you from knowing."

Now it was Finnick's turn to grin. "Phil cocked things up out there I heard. They want you to put all the pieces back together. And I think the MSS believes you are dead."

Nick grinned inwardly. Just as planned.

"That doesn't sound too bad… you want to come this time?"

"Me, in that frigid hellhole? No way."

"Ah but Finnick, the vixens! They'd love you! And what better way to keep warm eh?"

Finnick didn't respond, didn't make any sort of motion in response. He sat there motionless beyond what was required to drive. Slowly though, a sly grin spread across his muzzle, and he finally said, "I bet they've never seen a Fennec before neither, ha ha!"

"Hah! Probably not buddy. I'm tellin' ya, they'd be all over you! Plus there is no one better than you at sussing out those, uh, willing to provide us with useful information. And now I can keep you on the payroll. There, see? I have beaten two birds with one bush!"

Finnick gave him a look. "You're an idiot Nick."

"What?" Nick replied, genuinely confused.

Finnick didn't answer, he simply rolled his eyes and returned his attention to driving.

And so that concludes the first arc of Saving Wilde. I hope you have enjoyed it so far!

Reflecting back on these chapters, I think I would do my best to give you a wider perspective on the Burrow. Make it seem more alive with motion and activity. I think I became a little bit too fixated on our heroes and neglected other characters which could have contributed to the story. Oh well, live and learn. There are other things too of course, but from the perspective of the plot that is the most glaring.

Thank you to all that have reviewed it so far, I really appreciate you taking the time to comment. It means a lot.

Also, I may have gotten a little carried away with the innuendo. I apologize for nothing!

Next chapter will be out in two weeks!

Live well my friends!

-EasyOdds2