Jilly Toddson... Handle with Fox Gloves...
Giles had noticed that guards were all Repts on "Take Your Daughter To Work" Day and he'd known exactly what to make of it.
Fantasies, mostly.
He'd kept to himself most days at the branch. The guards often starred in his little daydreams. He wasn't Gay, mind you. At least not actively.
Who had time for an active sex life with a little monster like his at home? She was too much like her crazy mother, and while he loved Jilly as much as he'd loved Jillian, he'd be the first one to admit that a little of either went a long way.
And, of course, Jillian had done exactly that: gone a long way, away. Just up and left, transferred to the East Coast, joining a Skulk of other Purebred Grey Foxes and taking a number for a last name and giving up all rights to their child, who was not Purebreed and not worthy of further effort.
On his darkest days, Giles wished he'd thought of it first.
From his office, Giles could see the new Crocodile guard as he worked his list of phone numbers. The dark green skin and exposed teeth over the almost perfectly pressed light brown uniform was a nice contrast. Sometimes he would look up, bored, and the yellow skin under his jaw and down his throat would catch Giles attention. He tried not to look, of course... he didn't want any one to notice him looking because he wasn't really Gay.
He just liked Uniforms. Pressed clothe and leather holsters, seams and starch, law and order, and all the promise of someone taking charge. It was the first thing he'd noticed about Jillian.
Things were going well for him back then. He was a stockbroker in a time when people would buy whatever the hell you suggested that they buy and then sold whenever you hinted at something and you made money both ways. The tech bubble had bounced, but people had seen a flying rabbit and the world was so, so hopeful.
He wasn't a penny pincher, but he didn't have time to eat a real meal. So he ate out in front of Gold-Max-Sacks from what ever hot dog wagon or roach coach had the smallest line. Giles was a mutt-fox, but he looked, in his suit, at least, like a model Red Todd. When he didn't have mustard dripping down his muzzle, he thought he looked pretty attractive.
He was very shy and very busy, and he figured he'd have time for mate-shopping when he retired at thirty. Which he was on-track for, thank you very much.
And into this perfect plan, the tallest female Grey Vixen he'd ever seen got into line behind him as he got his food from the street vendor dejour. No idea what he ate that day. He could have dropped his dogs uneaten on the sidewalk for all he knew.
However, this he knew: her uniform was police soft blue with a white collar. Her pants were navy blue with a black stripe. She had a braided belt and a holster for her mace. Her uniform hat hid her ears completely, but let a shock of pure white head hair tumble down on the left side of her head. She ate her dog with her left hand and held her soda saucer with her right. She spilled nothing as she went around people.
He wasn't sure how tall she was, but he somehow knew his muzzle would rest perfectly in bosom if he could just get her to unbutton the top three buttons on her uniform.
She was a meter maid. He'd never considered anything less than a supermodel in his retirement dreams.
His libido was insistent that this was so much better. His heart was frightened; but it was willing to be lead.
He watched her for a week of forgotten meals, only the view of her walking down the street would satisfy him. Watching her write up a parking ticket was surprisingly erotic. His libido watched his heart like a vulture. It knew it was time to BUY, so it called the heart and it called the brain and together they took the plunge.
He walked right up to her as she begun to write another ticket. He wasn't planning to do it, just something about the glare she leveled at him, and he began arguing with her about the ticket. Maybe he suspected she'd admire his boldness. She attacked him like a starving harpy and he used all his salesmenship skills to mirror her, aware of the things she was doing to his manhood and wondering how she could not see his reaction.
And when she ripped off the ticket and held it out to him, it was such a perfect moment.
"Oh, this isn't my car," He said as if his voice wasn't sore from shouting and as if his palms weren't sweaty. "I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."
She exploded again, but this time with laughter.
It was that very mercurialness that should have been his warning. Instead, it cemented them together forever. Or so he thought. In the end, it was what ripped them apart and it was what made her such a bad mother for a difficult child like Jilly. She might have been "The Fun Mom" for a normal child...
...He might have been able to hold onto her if the bottom of the mortgage market hadn't dropped out.
...He might still have a good job with good money and good benefits, if his Uncle Bernie hadn't roped him into a pyramid scheme.
… he might have gotten them both help. Instead, he'd been the one seeking help.
Maybe... might have been... they weren't living in the streets. So there was that.
Giles stole another look at the Crocodile. Could be a male... could be a female... didn't matter. He didn't want the sex part. There was no reason he couldn't just talk with her... with him... except people would talk. He knew the Crocodile wasn't here to make friends, but ...
The middle aged Fox soon was deep in an idyll, letting the stress lift away.
He didn't see Jilly come up to his chair. Or at least he hadn't noticed that she was trying to sneak up on him. That always meant trouble at home. He wasn't prepared for the bite when it came, so he let out a yip.
She giggled as he rubbed his tail. The doctors told him not to react to bad behaviors. Reacting, even negative reactions, fed the behaviors. They said. And he thought they were more or less right. Because at this point, it had at least kept him from being arrested on child abuse charges.
And he had seen an improvement over the last few weeks.
"Jilly Toddson! We DO NOT BITE PEOPLE!" He scolded her with as even a voice as possible. He tried to get the same tone of voice he would use at home. Lord forbid she realize that she could control him by embarrassing her in public. Her eyes danced with joy, oblivious to the rebuke.
It was a mistake to bring her here; all the excitement had burned off her self-control. She was so overstimulated.
But, then, he really hadn't really had a choice. He'd given his word and, frankly, if today didn't go well, there was always the chance that the Moms in the office would see what he had to put up with and offer some pity sex.
He'd stop being proud long ago.
"We will go home, right now, young lady, if you're going to start with the biting." He had no PTO left, of course. Giles doubted his boss would try to stop him. Especially, since Jilly's tantrums were rather famous. Still, it was a threat he was loathe to utter, much less put into play, for the same reason that he controlled his voice. Jilly could learn to control him and then he'd be at his wits end.
Still, the threat seemed to make a dent. Her eyes dimmed a little with surprise. "But... I'm a Carn-o-vore." She protested mildly.
It was an argument that he'd heard before and it amazed him that of all the things she might have latched onto in school, Evolution had to be it. Why would they even teach that to Second Graders? "You're NOT a Cannibal," he said, aware of how rote that sounded. "Only bad kits bite people. We are not animals."
"When can I have a cookie?" This was little fox's default question. Giles used to think it meant that she was hungry. Now, he was beginning to think it meant that she was bored... or that she really wanted something she was allowed to bite.
"Soon, Honey," Giles said, knowing the wait would be a little hard for her. "After lunch."
She nodded sadly, as if after-lunch was a death sentence she was somewhat resigned to. "Can I have my Mouse?" Her voice was cuter, more little girl now.
"I'm sorry, Honey" Giles said, staying gently in charge. "We left Mouse home." Mouse was a chew toy, of all things. It helped direct her biting impulses into something harmless, but it was also a major embarrassment to Giles. Plus, he doubted it would help her socialize here. Most kits stopped needing chew toys before kindergarten.
He saw Jilly frown, considering things as thoughtfully as possible. What next to do or to ask. Giles melted a bit inside seeing how hard that she was trying behave. Deep down, she so wanted to be a good girl. She wanted her father's approval so bad. Dr. Jensen had said that Jilly was a Throwback, which was a much more common thing these days then when Giles was a Kit. Only instead of the obvious Throwbacks to prehistoric phenotypes, visible physical alterations to what was a current "norm," Jilly had a genotype reversion. There might be a physical component buried in her brain, Dr. Jensen said, and he had recommended surgery.
He could never cut open his little girl. At moments like this, seeing his daughter taking stock of herself, he was so glad he hadn't really considered it for more than a moment. He scooped her up and kissed her, a reward for controlling herself.
If medicine and biology were a democracy, then the other doctors won the election with autism. They all disagreed with the flavor of it and the treatments, but they all agreed that Jilly could manage it better as she got older. And while there were no guarantees, none of the Pro-Autism supporters were suggesting anything like a lobotomy.
Still, he worried that maybe Dr. Jensen was right. Because if he was, Giles Toddson had made some very terrible choices this week.
Then all the dark thoughts were pushed back when Jilly began to hug him back.
He was looking through the big window in the lobby when he saw the sparkle over customers' signature counter. Four weird looking rifles suddenly appeared an inch over the table and then clattered to the laminated table top.
He gasped and hugged his daughter tighter, as he turned to look at the Rept guard near the vault, to see if he'd seen this, too.
The crocodile had.
The guard fired several shots in the air with the side arm he'd been wearing, causing the many... including Jilly, to scream.