5:42 P.M. Friday, Mar. 29th 2013, FBI administration bldg. third floor, Federal Center, Concordia.
"Excuse me; Mr. Savage?"
The voice was feminine with a hint of an accent; somehow smooth as silk and hesitant at the same time. Vague recollection was followed by momentary irritation over her form of address—until he realized his desk's nameplate still stated that. Recently promoted investigative agent Jack Savage pulled his gaze from the monitor and looked up at her.
Yes, it was the Ice Queen. Her aloofness aside, he had to agree that the Arctic vixen's overall aspect was unequalled within the agency—regardless of the beholder's species. A simple, almost plain blue dress matched her eyes and draped her slender form. The employee manual probably forbade her anything more form-fitted, and the fur beneath it was as pure as freshly fallen snow. It made his own slightly off-white fur seem filthy in comparison.
"What can I do for you Miss Winter?" Jack's memory supplied the last word just before his mouth could stall on the empty space that ended the verbal queue. He felt a bit enlivened that their ultravixen had stopped by—although late enough that she'd barely caught him. Her presence here was curious since they rarely crossed paths; she normally worked in IT, sequestered on the floor above. She held nothing in her paws, which were clasped together.
"I'd…I'd like to ask you a favor…First…and my apologies for asking…are you socially available?" She finished with a slight nervous smile.
"Uhh…" That was totally unexpected. "I suppose I'd have to technically say yes," Jack said slowly. He lifted and glanced at his bare paw—one that in fact belonged to a hare. "Why would you want to know that? Did someone ask you to intercede on their…"
"Iwanttoaskyoutogo…" The vixen stopped, recomposed her face, looked at him squarely and tried again. "I would like to ask you out on a date tonight, Mr. Savage."
Time must have fractured, since he'd been unaware of the interval before its reset. The only other explanation for the stoppage of his breath and hearing would be that all of the air molecules in the room had probabilistically packed themselves into a far corner. That didn't tell him how long they'd remained there after he'd been flash frozen by their absence.
It must have also affected the vixen. Miss Winter's paws had jumped up and cupped around her muzzle. Her eyes had gone wide as well. They refocused on his and she dropped her paws to her sides, where they curled fitfully.
"Please, please, let me…give me a minute to explain!" she said in desperation—from what he'd heard, quite out of character for the Nordic Fox Goddess that stood before him.
Jack didn't have a clever riposte available, so he rolled his paw to bade her continue.
Get with it Jack! Think this through, she has to be serious, the timing's all wrong for a prank—as if she would do that anyway. What possessed her of all mammals to seek you out and ask that! She either had a major brain fart, or I'm about to hear an excuse for the ages.
"I was heading out and did not want to let another day go by with no one to talk to." Miss Winter's paws continued to fidget. "I know I've made myself rather unapproachable—I had to! My whole life has been filled with unwanted attention, imposed expectations, and being hit on by nearly every boorish male with a pulse." The agitated vixen reached towards him, then jerked back like she'd touched a charged force field.
"I'm sorry! I'm just tired of the constant social pressure!" she blurted in frustration. "I just want a simple, safe, no obligations or expectations evening out with someone!" She controlled a deep breath and waited for his decision.
She's still there, so you're not imagining this. And that's a look of embarrassment, which means she actually said what you heard. This is the Ice Queen; so you might be the first mammal to have ever seen that expression on her muzzle. Yours likely isn't much better—lagomorphs never had to develop a natural response to a fox that asks them out on a date!
Jack finally realized he needed to rescue the vixen from herself. She was the only female on the floor at the moment and he the only person close to her size. "How did I become the someone? If you'd pay attention for a moment, you might notice I'm a hare? Or does this all mean you think I'm mostly harmless."
"I know that Mr. Savage! It's not that you're harmless, it's that you were still here." Her face fell, as she seemed to realize the implied slight either way. "This all just suddenly hit me tonight! I felt you wouldn't be…as much of a risk asking…as anyone else that I knew." She paused and the paws came back up again. "I'm not even sure how to properly apologize to you for this!"
"Then don't." He finally threw her a rope. "Since you asked me out, what did you have in mind?"
Deer caught in a spotlight. He waited. To her credit, it didn't take her long to recover.
"If you would indulge me in this Mr. Savage," she got out more steadily, "one of us could choose dinner, and the other some casual entertainment."
A vixen asked you out, and just confirmed she meant in public! She obviously didn't think this through before her…declaration? If you go ahead with this, and it looks like you're out on a date, it'll be bad for both of you. Reactions within the agency to our socializing would be worse—shame for her and retribution from all of her admirers for you—at a minimum! We'd have to constantly be on guard and manage appearances to make this work.
He waited over a minute without replying, she defined the phrase 'animal magnetism' and this mirror universe fantasy was really about to happen. He actually felt excited and wanted to savor that a little longer, but relented when he noticed her grow nervous.
"Okay, you pick dinner fox, as long as it isn't bloody BugBurger! And since this now appears to be a date, my name's Jack."
"Skye," she said, her subtle accent more apparent when she spoke her name. He received a small smile from the vixen that slowly became radiant.
You can use that! It's an uncommon enough name to be a safe topic of conversation—that, along with some complimentary curiosity about her accent could induce Miss W…Skye to reveal more about herself.
Skye—a name as beautiful as she was. In spite of the dubious reputation that the majority of the population burdened foxes with, many species did acknowledge that they were quite physically attractive. Advertising agencies agreed. And random frustration aside, this one considered him adequate date material. At least for the one—that was a lot better than none.
She'd steered him into this without much resistance. Maybe he'd become jaded with the dating scene; he'd definitely tapered off over the last few years. It had all slowly blurred together and he'd never had much desire to settle down with anyone he'd met so far.
Of course he'd never had issues with his popularity among the fairer sex—his uncommonly striking markings had ensured that. A family trait, his particularly well placed and symmetrical ones had given him a mysterious and attractive style.
At least for other hares and rabbits—they were basically interchangeable for most everyone else. However, as he'd discovered early on, their genetic differences had made him a safe fling for bunnies that wished to avoid little surprises.
"I'd like some time to get ready and think about where we should eat," Skye said. "I honestly hadn't planned this as well as I should have. I can call you when I find a place? We could meet there?" She seemed to want his input too.
Miss Winter, you hadn't planned this out at all! You were needy enough tonight to seek out any warm body to talk to. And lucky me, mine's grown warmer since you came by!
"If that would make you comfortable," he told her. "Or I could pick you up; I have my own transportation. What works best probably depends on how far apart we live. It's ten to six now, we might be tight on time depending on what we find to do."
You're excited about this Jack, and not just for the clandestine aspect of it. It's unexpected, spontaneous, and doesn't involve another bunny with their predictable conversations and flirtations. Bunnies barely count as interspecies anyway, but a fox! That's pushing it right over a social cliff. Would you have ever considered going inter unless she'd done so first? Skye said she doesn't want expectations or pressure, so you shouldn't either. So be casual, relax and enjoy a unique date with a vixen even the spy movies can't match!
"Your car might be better; it will allow us more flexibility. We need to be careful about how we appear in public." Skye came around his desk to snag a pen and notepad. "I'm in Bucknell Park North." She scribbled down her address and gave it to him.
He was amazed. As quickly as her paw had moved, it was still practically calligraphy! Not only did he have another point of conversation; she'd proven even more interesting.
Interesting too, that you live less than three miles apart, isn't it Jack? Also pretty interesting that she's standing right next to you and neither of you seem bothered by that at all. Well, only intellectually in your case. Just be a gentlemammal and behave yourself. She's undoubtedly a rather classy vixen in spite of this awkwardness with you. Classy, classical—the university's Friday concert!
"I'm fairly close to you, so would seven-fifteen give you enough time before I come pick you up? I have an idea for after dinner and we should make it there if we leave now."
She nodded and hurried to the elevator. He followed her down once it returned and saw her well ahead of him as he exited the building.
It would likely be a career killer if you were seen as too close to her—in any way, by anyone. She knows that as well. You'll have to come up with some obvious justifications for your…proximity, before you get to the restaurant!
Her species, ice blue eyes, and fur all spoke of her frigid arctic origins, as did her reputation within the agency; but as he watched her tail slowly wave as she walked, he realized she couldn't possibly be hotter.
5:40 P.M. Friday, Mar. 29th, 2013, FBI administration bldg. fourth floor, Federal Center, Concordia.
Skye Winter reluctantly selected the lobby, then watched the elevator doors close. No one else had joined her as she'd waited for it to come. Logged out from the restricted computing center, she had two more security checkpoints to pass before she'd reach the tram stop outside the government compound. At best, unless another desirous canid was on duty to hit on her, an indifferent guard might briefly nod in acknowledgment as she passed—just like on the previous four days—or weeks.
Her paw darted to hit the button for the third floor as soon as the elevator started down. Maybe if she walked through the office bay below on her way out, she could catch someone for a minute or two of conversation. That might make the prospect of another night at home alone a bit easier to take.
You got what you wanted fox, a job offering social security—security from unwanted socialization. You're certainly one of the reasons everybody calls the comp center the 'Ice Cave'.
The doors slid open to reveal that most of the desks and offices on the floor were already abandoned. It was Friday and she'd spent too much time finalizing her own work. No chatting groups to join; only a few isolated mammals remained. Skye sighed and wandered towards the tall set of black tipped ears visible a few desks off to the right. That hare was the only one left here comfortably close to her own size.
He was focused on his computer, so she approached quietly and stopped a few steps away in front of him to watch. He stayed unaware of her to the stealthy approval of the solitary part of her mind. The rest was a bit disappointed. His distinctive facial stripes wouldn't allow him physical anonymity, but he'd seemed otherwise innocuous when she'd first been introduced around. She waited, unsure of the advisability of approaching him like this, until he closed down his computer. Say something, don't be discovered just standing and staring at him.
"Excuse me; Mr. Savage?" It was several seconds before he looked up at her.
"What can I do for you Miss Winter?" he said with curiosity on his face.
You have to follow up with something Skye! You didn't think this through at all. He's waiting for you to say something more.
"I'd…I'd like to ask you a favor…" There, you bought a few seconds Skye. Now what's the favor you want?
"First…and my apologies for asking…are you socially available?" Gaaah! Now he's going to think you're a crosser! Well done on your new reputation.
"Uhh… I suppose I'd have to technically say yes," He glanced at and turned over an unadorned paw, then looked back up at her. "Why would you want to know that? Did someone ask you to intercede on their…"
"Iwanttoaskyoutogo…" spilled volition free out of her muzzle, which remained open in horror.
Vengeful spirits, what was that? You sounded like a teenage Todd trying for his first date! You're the vixen here! You've already committed yourself, just state what you want.
"I would like to ask you out on a date tonight, Mr. Savage," she forced out more clearly. She hoped their eye contact would hide that her tail had involuntarily sagged to the floor.
He just stared at her. Please, don't make me wait for the verdict Judge Savage! Get it over with and I'll go away. So I can suffer with my embarrassment at home for the third-stupidest social thing I've ever done.
Nothing—he continued to stare right through her. She shifted on her feet nervously after a few seconds and his blue eyes didn't follow. A step closer—still no reaction. She waved a paw before them like someone in a cliché comedy skit—unblinking; he didn't seem to be staring at anything in this world.
Was he…broken? She was afraid to touch him or say something that might draw attention to them, so she waited helplessly. She had started to review what the outward signs of a seizure were when he twitched and slowly refocused on her. The audacity of what she'd asked a near stranger! Inside the agency! Her paws rose to cover her impertinent mouth. Could she recover from this—would he be willing to forgive her this breach of propriety?
"Please, please, let me…give me a minute to explain!" she implored him. He slowly waved a paw to grant her request, so she plowed onward.
"I was heading out and did not want to let another day go by with no one to talk to. I know I've made myself rather unapproachable—I had to! My whole life has been filled with unwanted attention, imposed expectations, and being hit on by nearly every boorish male with a pulse." She reached out as if to seize his sympathy and jerked back from the unwarranted violation of his personal space.
"I'm sorry! I'm just tired of the constant social pressure! I just want a simple, safe, no obligations or expectations evening out with someone!"
He tortured her for at least ten agonizing seconds as he paused to consider his answer.
"How did I become the someone?" he said evenly. "If you'd pay attention for a moment, you might notice I'm a hare? Or does this all mean you think I'm mostly harmless."
"I know that Mr. Savage! It's not that you're harmless, it's that you were still here."
Well spoken Skye! Pathetic and insulting in one statement. That's demeaning whichever way he takes your words. Think before you speak—he's able to!
"This all just suddenly hit me tonight! I felt you wouldn't be…as much of a risk asking… as anyone else that I knew."
Wonderful, that reinforces what you just said and shatters any notion that he might have had that foxes are articulate! All you can do now is quit digging your grave and try to gain his sympathy.
"I'm not even sure how to properly apologize to you for this!" Skye tried mightily to appear contrite and sincere. It was all she had left to try to salvage any shred of her dignity.
"Then don't. Since you asked me out, what did you have in mind?"
Oh Spirits! Were you relying on him to plan something? He just gave you mercy…and hope—he's decent enough to not reject you outright for your juvenile behavior, although he has every reason to. Does he want to satisfy his curiosity about what possessed you to approach him, or could he really be…interested? Don't push, be open and let him decide.
"If you would indulge me in this Mr. Savage, one of us could choose dinner, and the other some casual entertainment."
Again, there was no reaction from him. At least this time he did look at her while she waited and slowly began to wither inside.
Your fate is still his to choose! Will you be seeing him later tonight or someone from the Personnel Department on Monday morning?
"Okay, you pick dinner fox, as long as it isn't bloody BugBurger! And since this now appears to be a date, my name's Jack."
"Skye." She'd not only been forgiven, but he'd actually accepted her intrusive and unsophisticated invitation! A genuine smile of relief replaced the wan one she'd forced and her tail firmed and rose.
I'd like some time to get ready and think about where we should eat," she requested. "I honestly hadn't planned this as well as I should have. I can call you when I find a place? We could meet there?"
"If that would make you comfortable. Or I could pick you up; I have my own transportation. What works best probably depends on how far apart we live. It's ten to six now, we might be tight on time depending on what we find to do."
"Your car might be better; it will allow us more flexibility. We need to be very careful about how we appear in public." She stepped around to him, borrowed a pen and decided to show off her cursive skill. "I'm in Bucknell Park North."
"I'm fairly close to you, so would seven-fifteen give you enough time before I come pick you up? I have an idea for after dinner and we should make it there if we leave now!"
She nodded and returned to the elevator, then remembered to turn and smile back at him before the doors closed.
He not only didn't take advantage of your adolescent blunders; he acceded to them! Instead of rejecting the difficult fox out of paw, he was deliberately considerate of your feelings while you were distressed. This isn't another pity date; he seems to…care.
She'd found exactly what she'd sought for tonight. Pick up your pace Skye, you need to be ready in time! She did so, and happily added an extra wiggle to her walk.