Chapter Six

Villains, Demons, and Angry Vixens

Darius Vesper rarely slept. Over the years various doctors had all diagnosed him as an incurable insomniac. No treatment or therapy had ever been able to cure him of this particular malady. It had confounded the medical profession, even sleep focused neuroscientists. As Darius walked the steamy, sweltering streets of Eladard City, he let one of his favorite memories replay in his mind. He had arrived in Eladard City just over a week ago, been provided with clandestine employment and living quarters by Edgar Marcross, the most powerful and influential man on the planet, and had just been settling in when a call came from Edgar's personal physician. As part of his new work, Vesper would need to submit to a full physical examination. Darius had agreed and set the appointment, five days from the day of the call. Darius Vesper did not sleep once in those five days.

When he arrived at the doctor's office, he was quickly ushered in. Asked if he had any preexisting conditions, Darius had said off handedly that he often had trouble sleeping. The doctor had nodded, noted down the word "insomnia" and asked him how many hours of sleep he had gotten since arriving on Eladard. Vesper almost smiled as he said, "None."

The doctor, a native reptile, had blinked his nicating membranes in disbelief. He then went on to ask Darius if he had been feeling any ill effects. Auditory or visual hallucinations? No. Difficulty focusing? No. Lack of energy? Not in the slightest. Then came the inevitable request to perform a routine brain scan. Not a difficult procedure with the technology available these days. Darius of course agreed, though he warned the doctor he wouldn't find anything.

Using the latest in Marcross Medical Instruments miniaturized scanning equipment, the doctor had scanned Darius's brain, looking for any chemical imbalances that might be the cause, or be brought on by lack of sleep. He fully expected the scanner to show him a neurological mess. Instead, he found nothing. Every scan, every indicator, came back reading normal. Incredulous to say the least, the doctor had sent a call for a nurse to bring him a second device, convinced the one he had in his hand was malfunctioning. The doctor apologized, and Darius, enjoying himself, just curled his short feline muzzle in a patient smile and assured the doctor he understood.

The replacement scanner arrived. The doctor repeated his scans. Then he repeated them again. And then once more, just to be certain. All of them came back identical. Despite no sleep for five days, Darius Vesper's brain chemistry was completely, utterly, normal. The doctor then asked how long Darius usually went without sleeping. Maintaining that same, patient smile, Darius informed him, "On average, I go about nine days without sleep."

The doctor and nurse exchanged perplexed glances. "On average? How long is the longest you've gone?" the doctor asked.

His smile becoming a hint more sinister, Darius said, "The longest? About a month. Give or take a day."

The nurse, who was holding the medical scanner the doctor had originally thought to be defective, dropped it in shock. It clattered to the floor, and Darius couldn't help but grin. Just as he had expected. Eladardians, despite being on a technological level on par, and in some cases perhaps even exceeding, that of much of the galaxy, were still a deeply superstitious lot. On Eladard, there was a legend of a demon, Kilik-Thulu, who lived underground in the catacombs beneath what was now Eladard City, among the bones and shed epidermal layers of Eladard's ancient inhabitants. Kilik-Thulu, the legend went, walked the catacombs night and day, plotting and scheming his return to the surface world. He would sleep once in a month, either the last day of one month, or the first day of the next. Then, when he awoke, he would return to his wanderings, spinning his web of plots and deceit, and devouring any who ventured down into the undercity as sustenance for his ambition.

Sliding off the examination couch, Darius had reached down and picked up the scanner, handing it back to the nurse. She took it, scaled hands shaking and cool to the touch. "If we're done here?" he asked, glancing at the doctor.

"Y-yes," he said, visibly shaken by Darius's casual, and seemingly unintentional allusion. "I believe I have all that I need."

"Very good. A pleasure to meet you both," Darius replied, and with that the feline left the office, grinning ear to pointed ear as the door shut behind him. Yes, he would like Eladard quite a bit.

Of course, Darius noted to himself, he knew he wasn't Kilik-Thulu. But, the coincidental commonalities between himself and the legendary demon were enough that he found it useful to subtly call attention to them every now and then. He had indeed once gone an entire month without sleeping, and he suspected when he needed to next he would be more than capable of accomplishing that same feat. He was also in the business of manipulation, planning, and had connections throughout Lylat's underworld. He had also worked extensively outside of the Lylat System. He had plotted and executed the downfall of politicians, Great Houses, corporate enterprises, and criminal syndicates on Harcothia Secunda, Argelius, and a number of other, less notable worlds. He had negotiated secret agreements between powers such as the Anglar Empire, the Amanoi Hegemony, and even, on occasion, the Lylat Federation. He had done all of this, and at the same time managed not to make a name for himself. Darius Vesper had no desire for fame and glory. Fame and glory were the enemies of true power. Much better to be known to a few very important, and very vulnerable people, than a multitude of useless nothings.

Beyond his sleeplessness and penchant for scheming and negotiating, Darius had one other thing in common with Kilik-Thulu. He liked to walk. He found he did his best thinking while in motion. Putting one foot in front of the other helped focus a mind so full of information and ideas that, left undisciplined, he likely wouldn't have been able to tell his ass from his elbow. For the moment he did his walking on the surface, roaming the raised sidewalks of Eladard City, glancing at the holoscreens and advertisements, and taking note of everyone who walked by, filing away their behaviors and attitudes for his ever increasing database on the population he now found himself living among.

If one walked far enough on Eladard, one would, without fail, eventually find yourself in an industrial zone. Eladard prided itself on being the planet where things were made, though it had had more than its share of economic ups and down. Darius strolled by a sign marked "Industrial Sector K-7", and into an old, abandoned factory zone. Glancing around at the shuttered plants and broken window glass, Darius assessed the location's age. Five, perhaps six decades since it had been abandoned, buried in this clearing between skyscrapers. Given that timeframe, Darius suspected it had probably gone belly up during the height of the Third Great Recession, a period of economic contraction that had brought many a company to its knees.

Darius stopped at an old, rusted elevator door. Like the rest of this place, it hadn't been used in decades. It still relied on cables to descend, rather than using anti-gravity technology. Above it read a simple word, in the native Eladardian of course, "Underground." Painted on the doors itself were three other words, "Do not use." Darius walked up to the door. Extending his claws, he slashed them slowly through the dry, chipping paint. Stepping away he admired his handiwork for a moment, then he let out a soft chuckle. Yes, this would be perfect. He made a note to have the elevator tested, repaired, and put under surveillance. How does the legend go? Ah yes. Kilik-Thulu, Plotter, Schemer, and Demon incarnate. He roams in the dark beneath the City, and all those who go below shall be caught in his web, to fall victim to his unceasing machinations.

Darius nodded to himself, his tail flicking in satisfaction. Then, with another throaty chuckle, he turned around and headed back down the street, muttering to himself, "The drama."

Five Months Later...

Eladard had a certain brutal beauty to it. The harsh climate had given rise to the hardiest of reptilian species. Scientists had identified and named all the various species native to Eladard: lizards, chameleons, so on and so forth. But Eladardians, true Eladardians, made no distinction. Edgar Marcross certainly did not. All Eladardians were the same, equals. But some, like Edgar, were far more equal than others.

From the top of the Marcross Space Technologies headquarters, a massive, glittering high rise in the middle of Eladard City, Edgar Marcross, great grandson of the founder of his company, watched as a riverboat paddled its way down the Sul Tiss, the longest river on Eladard. The river was so long, in fact, that it had been the means by which the various disparate tribes of reptiles that were native to Eladard had first discovered each other. They had traveled along the faintly sulfurous waters, always searching for an area just a bit less harsh to inhabit. It was over these less harsh areas, areas not constantly at risk of being flooded with lava, or obliterated by the harsh, freezing northern winds, that the first wars had been fought, and afterwards where the first cities had been built.

Beneath the modern exterior of Eladard City ran hundreds, perhaps thousands, of miles of catacombs. An entire metropolis was buried beneath the skyscrapers and apartment buildings of the Eladard Republic's capital. Very few people ventured there, and it was believed among the lower classes that ghosts, spirits, and restless demons chose to reside there, eager to consume any who were foolish enough to trespass in their domain.

The riverboat docked and began unloading passengers. Edgar noted the make and model of the ship, a design of one of his company's innumerable subsidiaries. Marcross Space Technologies, through its subsidiary companies, had long ago monopolized manufacturing and technology on Eladard, helped along by the hopelessly corrupt Republic government. Sometimes Edgar wondered if he should do away with the politicians once and for all, and establish Eladard as a corporate world, with a corporate government, with all businesses and all employment controlled by his monopoly. It had been done on Argelius, so it was possible. Something told him, however, that the Lylat Federation would not take kindly to his doing that. And besides, governments had their uses, and Edgar had no desire to control everything the people of Eladard did, just what they spent their money on.

Thoughts of the Federation served to sour his mood, and he rose from his high backed leather chair, crossing over to a small table with a bottle and two glasses sitting there. Pouring himself a glass of Liquid Fire, a drink few could stomach, Edgar knocked it back in a single swallow. He savored the burning sensation it caused, washing away thoughts of the Federation and their sanctions.

Twenty years ago Eladard had colonized the primitive desert world of Titania. Inhabited by a race of felines colloquially known as "sand cats", Titania's natives had been centuries behind everyone else in the Lylat System technologically. They were, however, sitting on a treasure trove of energy conductive crystals, invaluable in the realm of advanced technology. The Marcross Consortium, of which Marcross Space Technologies was the preeminent member, had quietly requested that Eladard establish a colony on the world, and like magic a colony had appeared. Now, twenty years later, the colony had grown considerably, displacing the sand cat population, and drafting them into menial labor positions in the planet's expanding network of mines, refineries, and factories.

The Federation, of course, denounced Eladard's actions, and imposed a series of economic sanctions that, to this day, continued to adversely affect both Marcross Space Technologies, and the rest of the Marcross Consortium. And, to add insult to injury, as Marcross Space Technologies, commonly referred to simply as MST, had suffered sanction induced setbacks, a small, previously unknown Cornerian firm called Space Dynamics had, since it's founding a few short years ago, begun to eclipse MST as the Lylat System's preeminent producer of spacecraft and advanced space technologies. If something isn't done soon, their blasted Arwing and its G-diffuser will render the I-diffuser, my family's invention, obsolete in a decade or two.

Edgar poured himself another drink and returned to his desk. He tapped a button on his intercom, signaling his secretary to let his last appointment in.

The door to his office opened and a youngish feline walked in. "Darius, so good to see you," Edgar said, standing up and motioning to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Darius Vesper shut the door and nodded, returning the smile. Having come highly recommended from a fellow businessman on Argelius, Darius Vesper was now the head of MST's secret, and illegal, corporate espionage division. Tall and thin, Darius didn't look like much, but Edgar hadn't hired him for brawn. No, he needed someone with intellect to match his own, and a way of thinking that put success and the mission before any other concerns. Darius was just the man he needed to help get MST back on top, and Space Dynamics relegated to the second rate manufacturing and design firm that it was. "Mr. Marcross, you asked to see me?"

"Yes, I did. Please, sit down. Drink?" Edgar motioned to the bottle of Liquid Fire. Darius shook his head. "Of course. You don't drink, my apologies."

"No apology necessary, sir," Darius replied, taking a seat and setting his briefcase on the ground. "What can I do for you?"

Sitting down behind his desk Edgar folded his hands in front of him. "I read the report your division sent to me, about our Space Dynamics data breach. I think it's time we take our espionage up a level."

"How so?" Darius inclined his head slightly, looking interested.

"First, you're certain our breach wasn't detected?" If the breach had been detected, which the report had assured him that it hadn't been, then this plan would likely be moot. Therefore he wanted Darius's assurances in person.

"One hundred percent certain, yes sir," Darius assured him. "We were careful and specific, my division's hackers didn't leave a trace of themselves behind. And I must say, the breach yielded some very...interesting information."

"Excellent. Excellent." Edgar was beginning to feel more confident all the time. "Then I think it's time we launch Operation: Our Wing."

For a moment, the calculating look in Darius's eyes faltered, replaced by a burning eagerness for the task ahead. "Yes sir."

Leaning forward a bit more, Edgar said, "As per operation protocol, you are in full command of this mission. I won't be looking over your shoulder. But I want that experimental fighter, and I want that G-diffuser intact. Clear?"

"Naturally." Darius gave him a reassuring look, the mask of his professionalism returning full force. "Is there anything else?"

"No."

"Then if you'll permit me sir, I'd like to get to work immediately," Darius said, rising from his chair.

Edgar smiled, showing his sharp, reptilian teeth. He stood and held out his hand. Darius clasped his cold scales in his warm fur, and Edgar said, "Don't screw this up."

"I wouldn't dream of it, sir," Darius answered.

The feline left the room, and Edgar relaxed back into his chair. Everything was proceeding as planned.

The alarm clock by James's bed went off, blaring its intolerable, scintillating tone into every nook and cranny of the bedroom. Lying in bed, the sheets a tangled mess, James opened first one eye, then the next. With an angry grunt he grabbed the clock, shut it off, and then slammed it back onto the bedside stand. Turning over in bed he grimaced as a sunbeam caught him square across the face. "Oh. Ow. Yep, there go my corneas. Nice knowin' yah."

Sitting up James rested his neck against the headboard and looked around the room. Not too bad. The purchase of a new hamper a couple of weeks ago had really done wonders, even if it was in danger of overflowing at the moment. Looking beside him he noted the emptiness of the other half of his bed. He'd have to do something about that at some point before tonight.

Swinging his legs out of bed James ran a hand across the bridge of his muzzle, then started rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes. He and the team didn't have any combat trials today. In fact, his team wouldn't be doing combat trials anytime in the foreseeable future. In an act typical of budgetary oversight committees, the Federation Council had decided that continuing to pay a mercenary outfit to perform combat trials beyond these last five months was a superfluous expense that neither Colonel Pepper nor Argus Phoenix could continue to justify. It just happened to coincide with the Arwing moving to live fire trials, which would have meant a rather significant price hike for his team's continued participation. "Jack offs," James muttered.

Standing up he stretched his arms, then looked down at himself. His fur was matted in some places from sleep, and it didn't quite have the luster he preferred, meaning a shower was needed. He was also sporting an absolutely obscene bit of morning wood. "It has been awhile," James muttered to himself. Not for lack of trying, his luck had just been bad the past week.

Heading for the bathroom he checked to make sure he had a towel and then started the water going in the shower. He had a moment of indecision about whether to relax with a hot shower, or just shock his system and get the day going with a cold one. Considering that he had nothing better to do this morning he let the water warm up, then stepped inside.

His tail wagged happily behind him as the warm spray of water soothed some of the bed aches from his back. Leaning a shoulder against the wall James breathed in the steam as it rose in thick clouds around him. Looking south again he chuckled and wrapped a hand around his length. "Long as it's here. Heh, long."

James closed his eyes and let his mind take him somewhere else. He flipped through his more regular fantasies. Vixen threesome, lioness orgy, and then settled on something a bit more vanilla. Even as his hand continued stroking his length, behind James's eyelids a ghost of Vixy, nude and smiling, pressed her body up against his, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as she brushed his fingers aside to replace them with her own. He knew from experience how soft and skilled those fingers were, and before long James found himself panting, his tongue hanging from his muzzle as Ghost Vixy brought him right to the edge, and then stopped.

"Ugh. Dammit, you tease," he whispered.

"You like that about me, don't you?" Ghost Vixy said, tugging on his right ear.

"I hate it," he said, though his tone told her that he meant just the opposite.

Ghost Vixy giggled and started stroking again, her other hand reaching down to cup his balls. She rolled the heavy orbs around in her fingers and palms, tugging on them even as they drew up closer to his body, ready to vent their pent up essence. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck, Ghost Vixy whispered, "Come on, cum for me James."

With a long, low moan James let himself go, surrendering to the pleasing rush of climax. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and when he opened them he couldn't help but sigh at the lack of Actual Vixy in the shower with him. He hadn't seen her in a couple of days, and after that fantasy he suddenly found himself in need of a little familiar company.

Turning into the water he scrubbed himself down, using some of the shampoo that Clara and Jamie had bought for him the last time he'd visited. A smirk came to his muzzle at the thought of the two women. "Regular threesomes. Goddamn, if only Peppy knew. He'd have a stroke."

Rinsing himself off he stood under the water for a moment, enjoying the heat, before twisting the knob and shutting it off. Stepping out into the bathroom he flicked on the fan to start dehumidifying the place, then wrapped a towel around his midsection. With nothing to do he was happy to let himself air dry.

James headed out to his kitchen to start the morning coffee. Opening the cabinet above he looked through his selection, and settled on Nova, for a hot blast of caffeine the likes of which the galaxy had never seen. Slotting the pre-ground cup into the machine he smiled as the life giving substance began to fill his mug.

Grabbing the remote off of the counter James flipped on the holovision and glanced at the scrolling headers. Nothing very interesting. There had been some recent unrest on Titania, hardly newsworthy anymore at this point. Races for two hotly contested Cornerian Assembly seats had recently tightened, causing a firestorm of new pundit predictions that James couldn't care less about. And it appeared that Space Dynamics' stock prices had just risen, coming within spitting distance of Marcross Space Technologies, their most valuable competitor. "Figures they'd have a great day as soon as they stop paying me."

Taking his now full coffee cup James sat down on the couch and started flipping through the channels, trying to find something else to watch. He finally settled on a cartoon about a fox in denial about a rumor he had robotic legs. Before he could get too invested in it however the intercom by his door buzzed. Setting his mug on the coffee table, James got up and ambled over to it. Hitting the answer button he said, "Yeah?"

"James, it's Vixy, I need to talk to you."

"Sure. Come on up." James unlocked the door and left it open a crack, then headed back to the couch. He briefly considered running into the bedroom to put on something other than a towel, but then decided that Vixy wouldn't mind.

A few moments later the door opened all the way, then slammed shut. James turned to see Vixy standing there, her eyes wild and her fists clenching and unclenching. "You know that job you offered me? I need it. Now."

"What happened?" James had a feeling he knew. They'd been talking over the idea of her joining Star Fox, and both Peppy and Archer were game. But he and Vixy had decided to wait and see how things went with the live fire tests for the Arwing, which both of them had assumed Vixy would be piloting in. In fact, now that the Arwing had arrived at the testing grounds in Sector X, Vixy was supposed to have met with Argus Phoenix about whether or not she would be assigned as lead test pilot for the upcoming trials.

"I got fired." Vixy appeared near apoplexy. James prayed for the safety of his lamps.

"How?" James hadn't thought that would happen this soon. He and Peppy had agreed, privately, that it would probably happen at some point, but they'd both expected that she'd quit of her own accord long before then.

"Someone on the board of investors for Space Dynamics got ahold of my record, and all the blots on it from before I started doing the simulators," Vixy explained through clenched teeth. "Argus said he tried to argue with them, but ultimately...well, I guess I was just more trouble than I was worth."

James didn't know what to say, so he went with, "You gonna be okay?"

At that Vixy let out a scream she'd been containing all morning, kicked a chair, then beat her fists against it. James wisely stayed out of range. After a moment, when it appeared that she'd regained control of herself, James said, "Vixy, it's not that bad."

Her eyes widened and her gaze spat venom at him. "Not. That. BAD? Fuck you! Do you know how fucking hard I worked to get this job? I went to Aero! My parents paid through the NOSE for me to go. And now I get fired for...for fucking what? A few unorthodox piloting maneuvers? Bull. SHIT."

James's ears folded back. He knew he was in for the temper tantrum of the century. He'd been through several in the past. Rather than keep talking, which likely would have made things worse, he just crossed his legs and did his best not to be too large a target.

"It was Niles. I know it was," Vixy said, taking off her shoes. James ducked behind the couch as she threw the first one. "He fucking hated me. The little prick. I was always the best pilot on his watch, and he couldn't fucking stand it. And he really couldn't stand it when I got chosen for the simulators over that bitch bimbo he was screwing! Ohhhh, he didn't want it to happen again. I just fucking know he sent that report to those fucking weenies on the board of investors. FUCK!" The second shoe followed the first, and James decided that that was enough.

Standing up and walking over to her, he grabbed her arms and said, "Stop it. Stop it right now."

Vixy's lips curled in a snarl. "Fuck off James."

Shaking his head he squeezed her shoulder a bit harder before looking into her eyes. Speaking calmly, he said, "Vixy, how old are you? Did you honestly think you'd get away with breaking all those regulations forever? Vixy, you signed a contract saying you wouldn't break the rules. But, if you're gonna go back on your word like that, there isn't much anyone can do to keep the consequences from catching up with you."

"Oh, so you're on their side?" Vixy raged, breaking out of his grip. "Where the fuck do you get off telling me to follow the rules? You hated the rules so much you started your own mercenary team just so you could make your own."

Shrugging his shoulders and acknowledging her point, James replied, "Right. So what are you doing standing around throwing a fit about losing a job you were going to quit anyway? It doesn't make any sense."

"Don't talk to me about making sense, I'm allowed to be angry," Vixy spat, crossing her arms.

"Fine. Be angry. But at least put that energy into something worthwhile, would you?" James answered.

Vixy looked him up and down, noticing for the first time he was only wearing a towel. Arching an eyebrow in a patrician gesture that would have gotten plenty of funny looks back home on Papetoon, Vixy asked him, "James? Why are you only wearing a towel?"

James flicked his ears and told her, "Air drying."

"Oh." A little smile started creeping along Vixy's muzzle. "I didn't know people wore towels to air dry."

Sensing an opportunity to lighten the mood and turn that little smile into a big grin, James undid the knot holding the towel up. The cloth wrapping fluttered to the ground and James struck a pose, thrusting his middle out a bit, and putting a hand behind his head. "That better?"

Vixy laughed then, her tail wagging behind her. "You're a beast."

"I thought you liked beasts," James riposted, tail flicking behind him.

"Oh piss off." Vixy laughed again and walked by him, reaching out to tickle his balls. She smirked when James made a little hissing intake of breath at her touch. "What? Been fantasizing about me?"

James's face exploded into a blush. "Uhhhh...sorta?"

"Naughty boy," Vixy replied, settling down on the couch and stretching out. She took his coffee mug and drank from it without hesitation. "Wanna tell me all about it?"

"It wasn't that interesting," James mumbled, taking a seat next to her and fighting her off when she tried to wiggle her feet and get him to give her a free massage. "Just, you know, guy stuff."

Rolling her eyes Vixy sat up and snuggled up to him. James wrapped an arm around her and the two just sat here, enjoying each other's company, even if James smelled a bit like wet fur. Because of the persistent dampness from the shower, James didn't notice at first when Vixy began to cry. He did notice though when he heard soft little sobs, and felt her clutching him a bit more tightly. "Hey. Hey, you okay?"

Vixy took in a shaky breath and said, "No. I worked so hard for that job, and now I fucked it up."

Rather than disagree with her, James held her and let her work out the sobs. He kissed her soft white hair, breathing in the scent of her spicy shampoo and softer perfume. Once the sobs began to abate James stood up, whispering that he'd be right back. He walked into the bedroom and pulled on some underwear and a pair of shorts, trying to be decent. Then he grabbed a blanket and returned to the living room couch. He wrapped it around her, then made a quick stop in the kitchen for some canine safe chocolate. He handed it to her, and then sat down as she munched on it, her tail wagging even as tears continued to fall.

"What do I tell them?" Vixy whispered as the last of the chocolate disappeared.

"Who?" James wrapped his arms around her again.

"My parents." Vixy settled her muzzle into the crook of his neck. "They worked really hard to send me to Aero, to see me doing what I loved, but now I'm just a failure. All because of me. I could've played by the rules the whole time, but I didn't. I was stupid. And..." she looked up at him, a sheepish look in her eyes, "I kept thinking of something you and I always used to say back on Papetoon."

Smiling, James said, "What? Rules are for other people? I remember that."

Vixy laughed a bit, but it was a bitter, sad sound. "Yeah. Guess I shoulda realized I'm not a teenager anymore."

"It's alright," James assured her, rubbing her arm through the blanket. "Some people never realize it."

"That'd be you, right?" Vixy looked up at him, a little glimmer of humor returning to her glistening eyes.

"Yep. That'd be me," James replied, wagging his tail. He breathed a silent sigh of relief, it looked like the damage here was far from irreparable.

"What do I do now?" Vixy sat up a little straighter but stayed cuddled close to him.

"Well," James said, "I wasn't planning on telling you this until later. Maybe over dinner or something but..."

"Huh?" Vixy wiped away the last of her tears, and then blushed when she noticed the trail of snot she'd left on her arm as well. "I might need to use your shower."

"It's fine," James told her, even if part of his brain immediately felt nervous about the prospect considering his earlier escapade in there. "But before you do, I have a present to give you."

"What?"

"Wait here." James stood up and walked back to his room. Once there he grabbed his phone, opened up a saved image, and walked back to the couch. Handing her the device, he said, "What do you think?"

Vixy stared at it, and James held his breath. The screen displayed a Switch-Wing with her name stenciled on the fuselage. "James?"

Grinning and kissing her on the cheek, he said, "It's all yours. Whenever you want it."

The moment the words reached her ears Vixy's mood changed. She jumped up with glee into his waiting arms. Hugging him she said, "Thank you."

Holding her close, and trying not to focus on the fact that his hands were both grabbing her ass, James said, "You're welcome. And welcome to Star Fox."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and then their muzzles met in a deep, impassioned kiss. James felt his lower half waking up to the opportunity, and Vixy's scent telegraphed her willingness. Turning around James sat himself down on the couch, taking Vixy with him. Vixy was just pulling off her shirt when James's phone began ringing. James, eyes closed as Vixy came in for another kiss, opened one and looked at the caller I.D. "Dammit."

Vixy pulled away from him, looking none too pleased. "You cannot be serious."

"It's Peppy," James told her, reaching for the cell phone. It had to be important. The hare almost never called, preferring to text with James, something about wanting the vulpine's promises in writing.

"I don't care if it's the goddamn Speaker of the Assembly," Vixy groused, even as she slid out of his lap to sit down next to him. "You answer that and you're gonna have to give me thirty minutes of quality oral," Vixy warned.

"Make it forty and it's a deal," James shot back, answering the call. At Vixy's mildly surprised look he shook his head and muttered, "How did you think that was a threat?" Vixy just crossed her arms and tried not to smile. "Peppy, what's up?"

The words Peppy said next chilled James to the bone, and after replying that he'd be down to Space Dynamics as soon as possible he hung up. Vixy looked at him worriedly, and asked, "What's going on?"

"You're not gonna believe this," James replied, still trying to wrap his head around it himself.

"What?" she pressed, having sensed that the opportunity for fornication had passed.

"The Arwing. It's been stolen."

A/N: *psst* See? There's a plot.

For those of you wondering, when chapter seven releases, we'll be in completely uncharted waters. So strap in, buckle down, and read every word. It's gonna be a helluva ride.

(Also, technically it's still Friday for me, so this update is super technically not late)

Vixy: *pbbbt*

Shut up.

Vixy: *pbbbbbbbbbt*

I guess I'll just end that here...

Vixy: *pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt*