Intertwined
Second Date
7:50 AM Thursday, April 11th 2013 FBI administration bldg. third floor, Federal Center, Concordia.
Special investigative agent Jack Savage exited the elevator followed by two of his similarly exalted co-drones, and walked over to the interoffice mail cubbies. At his desk, he tossed the thankfully thin envelope of today's routine assignments on top of his keyboard, reached to power up the computer, then went back to open it. A rounded white paper corner now peeked from under the unsealed end of its flap; he teased out a neatly trimmed narrow slip with a single, centered, elegantly written word.
'Well?'
That caught his breath. It was one day shy of the two week 'anniversary' of his disguised date with Skye. Except for an early exchange of carefully innocuous 'Thank you, I enjoyed your suggestion' texts, there had been no contact between them. As he'd expected. He'd felt the vixen probably regretted her impulsive act and was glad it had ended without consequence for either of them. Whereas he had his cherished memory of a singular event not to be shared with anyone—except apparently her...again.
Once off that night's high, I'd taken her parting comment to call as a simple politeness; with no expectation of any follow-up from me. Or picture files from her. This says she meant it, and that I didn't take it seriously. Why would she expect me to? She presumed upon me—got what she wanted—that should have been the end of it unless she...liked it enough to want more. Trying for over a week to put her out of my mind, then she goes and does this!
Skye had complained more than once about being objectified. Had he hit that right balance of safe, casual socialization that she'd wanted? This said he had. They both knew that any mutual contact at the agency would be a risk outside of their routines, so he had all day to think about it. It would have to be tonight, any further delay would confirm his disinterest. He carefully tucked the slip of paper into a sleeve in his wallet. That, along with her address one, constituted a collection of her calligraphy—add any of the photos if he was ever able to get one, and he'd have enough relics for a fox goddess shrine.
Or at least a small votive niche. Jack pulled his day's files out of the mail envelope—he needed the distraction of the work.
One floor up. FBI administration bldg. Federal Center, Concordia.
Her secure log-in finally complete, Skye opened the 'ProPlanner' application and selected 'CVIntertrackPrelimFlow1' from her task library drop-down menu. It certainly wasn't the neatest flowchart she'd made, but that didn't matter. At this stage, she just wanted enough of it defined to determine if any preexisting software elements could be repurposed to speed this project along.
If there weren't so many variables, it would be great to have something like this to follow for vetting dating prospects. A few initial decision points would save a lot of later effort dealing with egotistical jerks, entitled narcissists, and possessive control freaks. Yet Double-O-Hare remains on the critical path after your imprudent stalk and his near seizure. To what desired endpoint?
A likely unallowable one based on her own warily employed criteria, she realized. Based on his...overt admiration and incompatible species, Jack was set up to be shunted into the box with the rest of her hopelessly unfit and unrequited suitors. Unlike most of them, including those that had forced her to leave her earlier life behind and strike out for Laurentia, he really didn't deserve that fate.
Absurd to give him a second chance, so it's you that wanted it. Are more relaxed, safe dates with Jack worth the casual cruelty of stringing this out until you're done using him? Or was your ego bruised by finally dating a male that didn't commence an immediate pursuit?
Elbows on desk, Skye propped her muzzle in her paws. She should have considered these thoughts and maybe left well enough alone before indulging in another impulsive tease. It had taken only moments to stop by the hare's mailbox and slip her reminder into...
No. I took the time to make it in advance, and stopped on his floor early enough to avoid too many witnesses—Jack in particular. I hope he takes this as a polite hint, and not cowardly reluctance to ask him out a second time face to face. Or by call, or text. Any of those would be enough that he'd think that I'm chasing him. Thank the Spirits that nobody would ever believe him. Maybe this is best—it shows that I'm amenable to his asking—if he wants to.
She suspected he'd call early this evening to not make her wait—or to get it out of the way before any misgivings took hold. She'd scanned in twenty minutes early, could take that off the end of the day, and be home in time to relax and anticipate his response. That would be quite a change from the anxiety she'd felt whenever past business clients or co workers had discovered and might use her contact information.
If she and Jack both rationally managed their behavior and expectations, and avoided any potential relationship invoking issues, a decent inter-species friendship might be allowed to develop.
5:39 PM Thursday, driving west on 58th at Hyatt Creek Road.
Jack took the smooth forty-five degree right turn onto his neighborhood's access road at speed, eased off once he'd passed the trailhead parking area, and let the upslope just beyond slow him before the turn into his driveway. The partially inset basement level garage door opened as he did so, and closed right after he'd entered. No apparent witnesses today for his dynamic arrival at the Savage compound...oh well, it was still cool. Setting up the paws free coded transponder/proximity sensors and timing everything had been a fun project. A hotter car and Skye next to him would have made it...
You don't know if she'd tolerate that kind of sophomoric theatricality. Skye's a sophisticated vixen! She'd likely consider those sequential strip lights you wanted to add to be absolutely ridiculous.
Fun and games were fine while fantasizing about more exotic dates with her, but now that it was a distinct possibility he'd get another one, he'd better show some maturity. That could start with recovering his self-confidence—which had ebbed in sync with the time remaining before having to call her. Which had to happen within at most another hour. He'd spent significant time during the day trying to determine if the content of that call would be to only talk without any commitment, agree to another clandestine date, actually set that date, or plan out the whole thing—a shared duty last time. Which Skye had suggested.
He put off that reckoning for another few minutes by prepping the interior of his car more thoroughly—just in case. If they set a date after this weekend, he'd have time to take it to a detail shop and let them struggle to make the whole thing more presentable. With new seat covers as well; his was pretty worn.
He wished he knew more about their cloistered Arctic vixen—beyond her displayed wit, unexpectedly engage-able personality, and obvious physical attractiveness. Unfortunately, between their initial awkwardness, the crowded pizzeria, and the concert, they hadn't had much time for unguarded meaningful conversation. Might she feel the same way? He could suggest that and solicit her input—it would be a good way to break the ice over the phone. Although she'd done it in person the first time...
It was still a couple of minutes before the hour—he could be professionally punctual and wait...or he could…Jack smiled as he poked through his phone menus, typed hurriedly, hit OK, then went to contacts and tapped the call button.
1401 Larkwood Ln, Bucknell Park North Townhomes
Skye frowned at the comb, its collection of white strands had noticeably increased from this morning's. If she really wanted to meet with Jack again, it would have to be soon. It seemed that the comp center's chillers had barely offset this year's mild winter—her shed was right on schedule.
Would her annual annoyance matter to Jack? The hare's shorter fur and tall racing-striped ears revealed his likely warm climate ancestry. Unlike foxes of the far north, he needn't worry about the April furpocalypse. Many appreciated it's slimming effect, although only her tail really needed that. She quickly wiped her comb clean, set it down, and walked back into the bedroom to answer the phone.
The caller ID said 'Double-O-Hare'-she had to stifle a gekker before she accepted it. Okaay.
"Unsecured connection; speak carefully Double-O," she said in a clipped, hushed rush to bounce the conversational onus right back at him. At least he couldn't see the smile his opening serve had induced. Maybe that's what she'd wanted; another good conversational volley. She started counting the seconds.
"We've established...reasonably effective cooperation...during our...prior experience," Jack said haltingly after about four of them, obviously thinking on the fly. "Further...productive collaboration between us would be...facilitated by a good foundation of trust." A couple more tic's went by. "If you're agreeable, I'd suggest building on that with an informal, voluntary exchange of personal background material. When might your schedule be open for that?"
At least he got my hard return back across the net—he did ask for it by acknowledging my mockery—and placed it so I have options. And remembered I might not want to talk about some things. Credit due—and gives him an out as well.
"So...an unobtrusive mutual background check? Expected and desirable. I must necessarily keep my calendar private...although tonight remains free," she said with the barest hint of suggestiveness.
"I'd inferred that possibility from the...tone of your reminder," he said more confidently. "Although if tonight, the arrangements will be rather ad hoc unless you already had something in mind."
"After all this time, I'd expected that you'd have prepared several alternatives," she chided more gently, quite pleased at the effectiveness of her four-letter reminder.
"Well, nothing that would provide the privacy it seems we'd both prefer," Jack said to smoothly cover their absence. "I feel that considering either of our places would be rather...premature if not overly presumptuous on my…"
"I'll be where I was before—at half-past. I expect that will give you enough time to think of something," she said with a hint of satiric inflection, then ended the call. And then felt guilty for dumping all of the responsibility in the hare's lap. Clever repartee and subtle coercion were fun, but she'd better have something that might heal an inadvertently bruised male ego. She went for the box of blanks and scissors in her desk.
At the Savage Compound.
Fickle Spirits! She pounces on openings before you realize you gave her one! Jack checked the time—he had twenty-five minutes to find a destination for their evening, then get over there to pick up a quick witted vixen who was already a couple of verbal barbs ahead of him. Again.
Skye had taken his unspoken allusion to the title she'd conferred onto him, batted it back, and put him instantly on the defensive. Then she'd turned his suggestion of a meeting into an imminent commitment. Certainly the vulpine goddess had to be aware of how much pressure she'd imposed on him—was this a deliberate stress test—for what possible reason—or some form of predatory dominance?
Or she feels that I can deal with it, wants more conversational dueling, and found my company agreeable enough to...risk more. That one word hint to contact her...change the sign of the phone call...move to the other side of the equation...she's technically asked me out twice in a row now! Just go along with it, you've wasted two more minutes!
Evening meant dinnertime—they wanted to be able to talk freely this time—so just might end up dining in his car after all. That meant two easy choices. He poked out 'If u want dinr, its ff drive thru or brnbag' and sent the text. Her reply established the need to pack his own; he headed for the kitchen with no time for elegance. A packaged salad, drinks, plastic forks wrapped in paper towels, and a gel coldpack went in his Mini cooler. Down to the basement, into the garage, cooler behind the seat.
Now where? Most places you could park around the city were too well lit or public to be suitable for an apparent couple as thoroughly and unacceptably mixed as themselves. The community parks he knew about that weren't, closed at sunset. They could find a spot outside the metroplex and watch that—a stereotypical cheap date. It set after seven now, they'd have time if they went southwest towards Aspen Park and Conifer. Unfortunately, that road tended to nestle down in the valleys.
Jack got out his regional map, unfolded it to search for any useful scenic overlooks in that area—the name of one of the taller local mountains instantly hooked his eyeballs.
Oh Merciful Spirits, allow me this! She might think it trite, but she'll know I tried!
He found a straightedge, put one end on top of Blue Sky Mountain, angled the other a little south of east—it was a couple of weeks after the equinox—his sunset sightline went right through Conifer. Sports car, scenic drive—it'll work, and you can see the front range from a few spots along it. They'd just have to find a side road to try for a higher vantage. He opened his calendar app to check the time of sunset—the mountains would make it happen several minutes earlier. It also showed that the moon was just shy of two days past new, that would put a thin crescent amid the sunset. He backed out of the garage with eleven minutes left to get over to Skye's place.
If I had an automatic turntable to pre-position the Savage-mobile for a quick exit, I could save fifteen or twenty seconds. Something else to not mention to Skye.
His spy lair fantasy wouldn't have made much difference; two minutes late was acceptable for such short notice. Skye appeared with a shopping basket as he stopped, and was soon arranging her tail alongside as they pulled back into traffic. Knowing he was watching, she reached her closer paw down to wipe a superfluous sample off the floorboards and critically examine it before latching her seatbelt. His peripheral vision got a workout paying attention to all that, and keeping them in their lane. A brief nod, and her attention turned silently outside to await his opening remarks. At least the Arctic vixen had taken his hint and dressed casually. Which detracted nothing from her appearance.
"I'll employ your natural namesake to provide the entertainment for tonight, miss Skye," he said to a brief frown. "We'll have a thin crescent moon and the bright stars of winter above the sunset. Those will accompany our fine dining and conversation—until the time you wish to be returned home by."
"Have you decided where yet? We don't have a lot of time." Skye turned her muzzle back towards the rather low sun.
"Near Conifer; we just have to find a spot with a view." Somehow, his statement got her thinking. "Quickest way out of the city from here," he added, heading for an on ramp to the west-side bypass. After nearly a minute of mutual silence, he glanced over to see Skye do the same back.
"Are we politely deferring the more personal stuff, or hoping the other will speak to it first?" he ventured, eyes back on the road.
"I'll take the latter; so thanks Jack. I'm afraid that dropping hints I want to...keep company with anyone, is not something I have much experience with."
"I'm surprised you'd ever have to do that; which not only reassures me I didn't mess things up before, but makes me wonder what I did to deserve this rare honor a second time," he said, drawing a brief sigh from the vixen.
"Careful, you're getting close to some backpawed objectification there Jack. I've grown to be rather sensitive to that regardless of how many others spend time and treasure pursuing that goal."
"Guilty as charged I'm afraid. My susceptibility to your...most favorably expressed genetic profile is ingrained deeply within my own—misapplied though it is—as it must be for any other helplessly captivated males, vulpine or not, that you have ensnared, intentionally or not." It took a few worrisome seconds before she replied—after another soft sigh.
"It's become...tiresome to have to cool the ardor of far too many of those I meet. I could do a statistical study on the use of nearly every pick-up line and complement there is. At least yours are original; and this one's definitely the nerdiest one I've ever received! Accepted," Skye said with a smile.
"Yes!" he answered her smile with a brief fist pump. "Now that my instinctual compulsion has displayed my physiological fitness, and engendered a positive feminine response, I can relax and get the irrelevant dating profile stuff out of the way." He raised his other paw. "Single male Tehuantepec Hare, never married, twenty-seven years, fourteen kilos. Steady job, decent income, lives alone, not presently dating...subject to whatever we decide tonight is." He stopped and maneuvered to the off ramp for the road to Aspen Park and Conifer. Skye waited until they'd merged with the tail end of that road's now flowing go-home traffic.
"Irrelevant what we choose to call this since we won't tell anyone about it—it's their perceptions of us that matters if we're noticed," Skye said, not concealing her accent. She placed a paw below her throat. "Arctic Fox Royal vixen, must be treated with due deference, courtly manners, and the best the world can provide. Only a few will prove worthy of my confidence!"
"Now you're inviting objectification? Can't have it both ways your highness! Since your realm appears to be too tiny to provide you a Royal carriage and escort, you've been reduced to requesting those services from a commoner—me—twice!" he paused for effect, two fingers lifted. "Thus designated by default as worthy, I await some spillage of secrets."
"I suppose I can trust a special investigative agent to keep them," Skye conceded with a gracious tone and even more attention enticing smile. "Coming up on twenty-five, I've also remained single, and live alone, employed in a higher level government position..."
"By one floor!" he interjected.
"We may have to compare security clearances recent promotee," Skye snarked. "Now, my interests include reading, computer programming, gaming, and on-line groups, in depth conversations and concerts of course, and undisturbed walks in nature. I've generally preferred to avoid crowds."
Thanks for the opening Miss Skye! Let's see how long I can string this out!
"So, comparing our libraries, engaging in virtual determination of our mutual status as designated by the alphabet of a moribund language, and high-level verbal sparring until one of us trips over a syllable or commits a malapropism, would appear to be mutually agreeable activities for future consideration."
The vixen thought for a few seconds. "Yesss. Assuming that you don't exhaust your vocabulary before this evening has concluded. I noted a near exact repeat of 'mutual' in your statement."
"I can only hope that at some point judgment on my verbal fitness will be rendered—so that our sparring can subside to relaxed conversation," he said with enough sarcasm to prompt her verdict.
On the road with Jack.
He's right, I've been pressuring him since I first embarrassed myself at his desk and recovered my own equanimity. It's just so much fun! Although it's his fault he met the occasion and kept me going.
"My apologies for indulging in an infrequently encountered pleasure Agent Savage. You are an opponent worthy enough to render your certain conversational defeat at my paws...regretful."
"Hey! I used 'render' first! So cross that one off in your thesaurus. Now, Highness, can we revert to common speech before I have to start diagramming your sentences to keep up," Jack said seriously enough to draw a quickly stifled snort out of her. That, and her nod sufficed to visibly relax the hare.
"As long as we allow ourselves the opportunity to use any really good zingers that might present themselves," she said to his return agreement. He really was congenial company; they seemed compatible except for the glaring fact that he wasn't a fox. At least he was tall compared to other lagomorphs she'd met, seemed to be fit, and his driving displayed quick reflexes and good judgment as he did a nimble out and in pass of a much larger SUV slowing for a turn.
"Are you comfortable driving with me Skye? I can get a tad aggressive at times," he said right after that—while possibly revealing some level of mind-reading skill. Or reasonable situational awareness.
"You've got the car for it," she said evenly to show her acceptance. They were now on a broad curve to the left with most of Conifer ahead and slightly down slope to their right; the sun was visible to the side and slightly below the top of the broad dome of the mountain beyond the town—a few minutes from setting. Jack was now looking at it with her—she glanced back at, then past him.
"Jack! Left now!"
He braked them across the empty opposing lanes, and onto a side road up the slope that edged the main highway. Once several meters higher, he noticed the building she'd spotted, pulled into it's large parking area, then turned back towards the highway. The asphalt lot ended without a curb and they slowly continued out closer to the edge of a ten meter bluff overlooking the town. Various sizes of tire tracks in the hard packed dirt revealed the spot's popularity, although they were alone for the moment.
Concurrence unpacked their meals in silence as the sun retired for the day. Once it had, Jack paused his latest forkful of salad, and gave her half eaten, not at all herbivore friendly, last slice of pizza a meaningful stare.
"What? I'm a regular there and it's been nearly two weeks," she said petulantly, "This was an excuse to use my recent leftovers. You didn't miss this," she waved the barely warm reheated slice, "so maybe you enjoyed our... date as much as I did." There, she said the needed reinforcement to her foisted upon him initial request.
"Yes I did Skye. Which raises the question, given the highly unusual nature of our sudden acquaintance and the apparent congeniality we share, what will we do about that?" Jack's non vulpine expression still clearly conveyed his desire for serious discussion.
"I really don't know Jack. I've imposed upon you twice now; today's note certainly counts. Both were unfair to you as I didn't consider how you might...react to my...impetuous overtures." She raised a paw to forestall his imminent reply. "I need to finish this. I had...assumed that we were sufficiently different as to prevent any...expectations or personal involvement from...developing. That was selfish of me as I had no insight into how you might feel Jack. I was, and still am using you and must profoundly apologize for that regardless of what else we might discuss or resolve tonight."
"As a possessor of a 'y' chromosome, I can assure you that a great majority of my fellow carriers, across several species, would not comprehend why you'd feel the need to apologize. I know, it's more objectification, but it is what it is, and you must be aware of the profound influence you have on the opposite sex."
"Of course! I've been subjected to ardent male interest for half of my life—more than you at present realize. Many would consider that a blessing, although I now find it a burden. As you've noted, I've had this effect on species other than my own including many outside of my fox genus. Nearly the whole family of canids considers me fair game as do some members of more distant families!" She pointedly maintained their eye contact while finishing off the remainder of her pizza slice—Jack watched her do so with no sign of guilt or distress, and remained silent.
"Then there's you. Not my species, genus, family, or even order within mammalia. Yet we enjoy each other's company to the point of a second date! I honestly still don't know what I should do next. Even a careful friendship for us seems fraught with jeopardy given our positions." She watched Jack consider.
"Second date," Jack said slowly. "So, back to my question; do we want to continue with this. I've read that counting in very primitive cultures could reduce to no more than a simple; one, two, then many. We're at two. I'm not primitive, but I'd—hope—that another encounter with you could become the third of many. If not, I already know I would greatly feel your...absence."
"As I believe I would yours," she admitted to herself as much as Jack. "I've always prized sincere casual friendships with others—rare though they have been. I've been wary of anything going beyond that, as those choices are not given to me. I honestly worry that may be happening again with you." She watched as Jack's ears spread a little, and remorse slowly replaced the expectation on his face.
He doesn't deserve what I just did—my influence over others should not be this unbounded. We're primal antagonists! Is it my fate to lure others to their emotional doom due to my reluctance to make timely choices? At least Jack isn't overtly forcing that onto me like so many others have. Instead, I'm the one forced to preempt his hopeless longing to spare him a greater cruelty in future. Is it my curse to be desired for everything that always ensues from simple friendships?
Pinned in the driver's seat.
A finely placed stiletto. A quick stroke of mercy. Meant to end suffering so why did it hurt so much? Other than a couple of inconsequential workplace greetings, he'd first spoken with this vixen less than two weeks ago. There was no plausible future for them for a whole lot of valid reasons. He'd ended more relationships with far more suitable partners than those far more suitable partners had with him. A couple had lasted considerably longer than two weeks, although their mutual interest had still eventually waned. So what had Skye done to drag him from being a nearly complete stranger to his present state of...unnatural infatuation with her.
Other than by being whip smart, stunningly beautiful beyond her species, and having an engaging, exciting personality. Don't forget to add educated, talented, and having the bad judgment to ask me out on a date due to her social frustrations. An error she's trying to correct as empathetically as possible.
She was worried about his ultimate intentions towards her—even though she was responsible for being in that position. He needed to reassure her, and convince himself that he could be...dispassionate.
"I understand your concern, Skye, and do not want to assume the role of the hopelessly unsuitable admirer of the unobtainable. There shall be no untoward behavior from me. Look, your lack of concern about my having driven you alone into the wilderness on our second date, clearly revealed your negligible estimate of my threat poten…"
"Jack! Please. I...I enjoyed your company enough to want more of it in spite of the risk for both of us." Skye snatched back the paw that had found its way to his shoulder, and looked at it like she was going to send it to its room for a time-out. "I wasn't worried about what you'd do, I just saw what I'd seen before from...and didn't want to lead you...Oh Spirits, I didn't think I'd need one of these...give me a moment."
He watched a clearly discomfited vixen reach back and rummage in her basket for a small envelope. She opened it and passed over two small cards with trimmed corners and more of her calligraphy.
"A request for redress of embarrassment," he flipped to the other. "And a conversational reset card."
"I originally made them for you as diverting apologies if you ever felt the need for one around me, but I'm using that one!" Skye finished firmly as she tapped the conversation reset one.
"You're gonna have to make more of these Miss Skye! Probably for both of us. You do realize that doing things like this is one reason why I like you." He kept the card she'd tapped, and thrust the other back to her paw. "Here, I hope these don't expire. This is for staring at you during the concert!"
She took it back. "I know, that's why I made it. I started all of this by imposing myself uninvited into your life like so many have done to me. I didn't consider…" Skye stopped; looking cross-eyed at the finger he held millimeters from her nose.
"Instead of repeating yourself, make another card for that!" He withdrew his finger and let out his own sigh. "I'm responsible for this too Skye. I could have told you 'no' in any form from polite to offended...but I didn't. Why? I was as aware of the potential issues as you were. Dammit, I'm a healthy, reasonably well-adjusted hare! I should be and have been attracted to other hares..and also rabbits like everyone else might expect. I'm not a mixer...well, technically I am...was! with a few of those rabbit does, but that's well within society's acceptable limits. So why did I indulge the fox at my desk?" He paused and almost fell into her pure blue eyes.
"I was intrigued. Why were you there? Why pick me? I'll admit it was a blow to my ego when you let slip that you picked me at random. So it's my problem I felt slighted by our fantasy fox. Don't apologize for being one! Recently, I've become rather...jaded socially, and you were a surprise opportunity to recapture—if briefly—some excitement in my life. And being bluntly honest Skye, realizing I was the one that scored a date with the agency's aloof Arctic Goddess put my previously wounded ego into orbit! So any apology should be mine for my unfortunately normal male behavior of objectifying you."
"I initially expected that you'd most likely find me annoying Jack, not see me as some fantasy fox like canids, and even other similar carnivores like felids might. We're so different!"
"Doesn't matter Skye, because you're the Spirits be damned ideal example of pan-species animal magnetism. If you ever decided to eat me, my emotionally smitten tangled up 'y' chromosome would eagerly force me to be as nutritious and satisfying a meal as possible for you!"
"Good thing I had the leftover pizza," Skye said softly. "I suppose I should be flattered that my well being is of such...well…over the top sacrificial importance to you. Your offer of dinner is certainly unique among those I've received, although I would prefer to continue to share them with you."
"So you're willing to put up with infatuated me for at least a few more dates?" he said, not quite keeping a note of incredulity out of his voice.
"I feel like I owe you that after all the stress I put you through," Skye said through an affirming smile. "You dealt so well with it that I kept wanting to challenge you."
"And I wanted to overcome them!" he emphasized, "Because I wanted to impress the most fascinating person I've met in a long time. To illustrate that; let me ask; do you go to spy movies? Read secret agent thrillers or watch law enforcement shows on TV?"
"Some," Skye admitted, "but if they have foxes in them, they're almost always on the side of evil."
"And that's because sexy evil sells! Even if the villain isn't a fox, there's likely still a couple of slinky vixens hanging around their evil lair! I remember reading about one or two that made heel/face turns and earned a rescue by the dashing agent. That's the point Skye; the audience identifies with the plot-armored hero, vicariously craves the implausible action, wants the high lifestyle, the fast car, and the hot females. Commercial objectification to the max!"
"I'm well aware of the fantasy Jack, I had to put up with quite a lot of that crap. How immersed in that are you?" Skye asked with more than a bit of an edge.
She's got stories! Off-limits for now—just answer her question! Maybe being a little complimentary?
"Well...I am an FBI agent, so I've seen...and do watch some—though it can be hard to get around the contrived plots, and we could never get away with some of the methods they use. It's entertainment—we have to take it as such." He paused and opened a paw towards her. "My point about this being—you, without even trying, completely outshine those spy movie ultravixens! On top of that, you're an actual agent, not an actress. So understand how you affected me when you came and asked me out!"
He was being examined by a focused fox. She then retrieved her smartphone and looked down at the screen. She tapped, scrolled, and managed to trigger his sense of peril. He slowly reached down for his own.
"Whatja looking up?" he said with feigned curiosity as he slid his phone out. He glanced at it to unobtrusively access the settings—Skye noticed—and instantly finger thumped hers like she was mashing a bug on a windowsill. His ringtone sounded before he could mute or turn the damn thing off.
"Got you Jack Savage! You're a fan of 'The Operative'!" She toothily smiled at him in triumph.
He tapped to answer just to silence the sonic betrayal; Skye cocked her head slightly, tipped an ear, and lifted her phone to it. Caught out, he could only do the same; "Savage here," he said in defeat.
"This is Mrs. Millibrae from HR," Skye said in a poorly disguised voice—echoed milliseconds later from his phone. "We have received reports of Ambitious Activities subsequent to your recent promotion! A hearing on this matter…" foxy laughter took over.
He could only laugh with her as they put their phones away—his at least now silenced. "What tipped you off?"
"You seem quite devoted to your profession Agent Savage. I sensed a reluctance in you to admit how much that might extend through your personal tastes in reading and viewing. In a genre you seemed to indulge. The operative isn't a bad show, and its theme is well known. The odds were...favorable."
"You're not going to let me get away with much, are you?"
"Not with such predictable prey! It's good that I approached you first Jack, you never would have asked me out in a million years, would you?" Skye struck a brief haughty pose.
"Doubtful, considering I come from a long line of ancestors that survived in part by not asking foxes out on dates! I, unfortunately, seem to have acquired a mutation so detrimental as to not resist when a fox asks me!" He motioned out beyond the windshield. "The sun now seems to be below the true horizon behind the mountain, and we have a decent set of crepuscular rays to appreciate—which might mean some weather tomorrow." They watched in silence for the few minutes longer that the projected cloud shadows out across the sky lasted.
"Should you persevere with your secretive vulpine preoccupation," Skye said to break the interlude, "and we're out this way again, it would be nice to enjoy the view from the top of my mountain."
"The road up there might be closed at night," he said through his grin, "I'll have to check, unless you wish to use your topographic ownership ' in' with the park service."
"So you feel you've 'got an in' with me because I'm favorably inclined to further dating with you?"
"No, because you're likely to torture, tempt, or train me for your amusement or my servitude as befits our positions on the food chain and my exploitable infatuation." Skye gave him an exasperated look before he continued. "But none of those...future activities can remain private and secure for us unless we start carefully planning them. First priority, keeping the agency tasked with ferreting out unacceptable activities within society—such as our deviant dating— in the dark! Which means no more notes, face-to-face encounters, or any other acknowledgment at work that we're aware of each other's existence."
"I think that extends to our personal phones too, Jack. I've...heard of a project to enhance our court-ordered outside monitoring capabilities...can't say more...and have my concerns it could become another intrusive security measure for agency staff! Remember that 'Expectation of Privacy' waiver we signed."
"I do. So perhaps we should strive to make our future arrangements when we're together like this. And keep our incidental comms to short coded text messages—maybe using some cheap burners. For dating."
"You're also going to have to use your newly acquired field agent skills to keep us... covert in public," Skye emphatically whispered the last bit. "I have a couple of...admirers in my complex, they and others might start associating your car with me if we become predictable with the pick-ups and drop-offs."
"In that case Skye, just scout out a few less obvious rendezvous spots in your immediate area, describe and give them a...say...three letter identifier like they have for airports, snailmail me the list, then when our weekly meeting time comes, you can securely text me the safest one for us to use."
"How presumptuous! Trying to fill my social calendar like that after ignoring me for two weeks! I shall determine if and when you can earn such a frequent level of privilege. Now give me your address so I can send you your list in a non-return marked envelope from a public mailbox. Is that safe enough?"
"Sorry Skye! I didn't know you devoted that much time to computer gaming!" he said sarcastically. That got the vixen's paw batted at him like he was an annoying fly. "Honestly, this is going to be fun! Not only socializing with you, but continuing to engage in sneaky, clandestine spycraft together. If it ever got out that we were dating, I'd hit the top of our 'Most Wanted' list instantly!"
"Then we'd better be good at it," Skye said more seriously. "Lets build up to this gradually, I'd really like to trust you to be careful." She held out an open paw and they shook, reasonably firmly, before she released and pointed, "And you wash that paw of yours Jack, so we're not exposed by my foxy essence."
"Sheesh! I'm not that badly smitten. Am I?" he said while trying to keep his body language from confirming that. She produced a pen and pad—he held out his driver's license for her to copy off his address. Skye did so in flowing script in spite of sitting in his car and having to hold her pad. Probably because he was watching—which warmed him inside.
"Ah! Your moon," she pointed with the pen before putting it away. "Right above my mountain."
It took him several frustrating seconds to find the sliver of moon against the mid-twilight. "Oh well, looks like it will be gone within fifteen minutes, I was hoping it would get dark enough to see some earth-shine on it."
"I can just see it," Skye said smugly.
"I shall endeavor to duplicate your feat in the time remaining til it sets—you fox with the superior crepuscular vision," he stated.
"You must read more than pulp spy novels to display such a fine spread of vocabulary Jack Savage," Skye said, "Along with your having uncommon familiarity with numerous literary devices. I find that very refreshing, and would like to explore more of your bookish interests!"
"Skye, you don't need to use the 'Hot Librarian' trope on top of everything else, I'm already in your clutches, and you'd need some glasses to do that right anyway." He watched her immediately reach back to her basket with a canny smile, he winced involuntarily, then she brought her paw back empty. "Skye! If you're going to keep doing things like that to me, you'd better take a class in Lagomorph CPR!"
"Eh. It's our nature, and you're too much fun. One of my professors defined us foxes as Felid software running on Canid hardware. And we're close enough in size that the general course I took will suffice."
"I have a sudden urge to hold my breath until I pass out," he said deadpan; they laughed together.
"There's a star Jack, well above the moon," she said shortly after, leaned forward, head tipped back.
"Probably Jupiter, it's brighter than any stars. Astronomy's an interest, along with other general sciences like physics and biology. Popular works, not the heavy academic stuff. A few of the classics, first person historical accounts, adventure, thriller, and SF when I was younger...and now agency manuals. That should be enough for now; it's harder to find reading time these days."
"Some of the same for me," Skye said noncommittally. "A comparative species history, and several programming references lately. It would be nice if we progressed to where we might share some of our past favorites."
Woah! If she feels about this like I do, sharing our collections implies somewhat more of a friendship than a few casual dates and done. And she's already aware that I fancy her. I'm a credulous open book—she remains a closed enigma and potential risk. Our association has progressed too smoothly and enjoyably to be real by any objective measure. The old stories caution: 'Beware a gift from the gods' but what do you do when the gift is one?
In spite of cautionary books, movies, and those agency security manuals—he was walking straight into the oldest ploy there was with a smile on his face. The only mitigating factor was that he couldn't imagine any credible adversary trying to set him up with, of all things, a vixen honeypot. Unless it was the skilled and sophisticated vixen with the hidden past herself. He'd absolutely have to keep her ignorant of his own dubious personal history.
The moon and its hint of earth-shine was nearly gone, with some stars taking their places above the fading bluish-gray glow. They could keep the conversation innocuous for a few more minutes.
Running with the Hare
Dusk had progressed far enough for fine details to blend and fade. Jack, his striped and tipped ears still distinct beside her, had started to point out and name several of the newly visible stars—some through his now open sunroof. She already knew many of them, but silently let him continue. His apparent, often obvious, admiration of her was an issue that needed to be resolved given their employer and the society it secured. The simplest solution was an undesirable option, as teasing and verbal sniping aside, she'd also become comfortable with his company.
"Jack, you and I are both physically...distinctive, and we were seen together by many on our first date. Even if we remained anonymous to most of them then, and take care in future, I worry that our descriptions, and association, might still filter back and come to the agency's attention. Denial would be dangerous, so we need to agree on a...narrative."
"Simple coincidence, if it even comes up," Jack said after a few seconds, "No one saw us arrive or depart together, and we're both known regular customers. We were mildly surprised to see a fellow employee there, and took the opportunity to sit and chat. Not a reportable contact by us of course, and any unlikely agency follow-up would have to deal with many conflicting and vague recollections. As for your admirers at work, the sheer absurdity of you dating me protects us! The issue, as you noted, is how we cover ourselves from now on."
"The way you acted at the concert was effective—everybody completely ignored us. Should we meet at or near the agency, work related or not, continue to appear mildly uncomfortable around me while I remain my aloof, disdainful of lessers, self."
"Just enough forced professionalism to convey discernible antipathy even though I know better now," Jack said. "Could be a way for me to slip in one of those zingers you mentioned without consequence."
"Only if the situation warrants, and you remember to use coarser language Jack. Leave the erudite condescension to me." She put a paw to her breast. An indirect wash of light from behind revealed their mutual amusement. They turned to see a somewhat larger car approach, kill its lights, and pull up to the periphery of their vantage a reasonably polite fifteen meters away. But downwind. She felt that might be a little too close for comfort—as soon as the driver's door opened and revealed a caniform figure, she tapped the side of her nose, Jack nodded, and started their car.
"Guess I'm going to have to wash my car more often too," Jack said as he turned onto the access road. "Be awkward to find your large angry admirers sniffing around it when I get off work."
"Every time I touch it I'm afraid. Unfortunately, my scent is rather recognizable, easy to track, and difficult to mask. Just you being in close proximity to me would be enough for some to detect, so it will be necessary for both of us to be fastidious."
"Skye, I'm glad we're in agreement to treat our mutual...association as an actual covert operation. Better to be overly cautious, at least at first. For now, we get those burner phones and coordinate by coded text. Our regular phones should be fine for receiving initial contacts and number swaps. You send me your list of rendezvous points, and I'll make up a list of alphanumeric abbreviations of useful phrases. Ambiguous infrequent texts will be very secure for arranging our trysts!" Jack's grin said
"Behave yourself hare," she said lightly, "I'm larger, and have self-defense training!"
"Specifically anti-hare, or just in general like your CPR class," Jack snarked.
"Green belt in East Asian vulpine Jujitsu, I go every other Wednesday," she said to a brief strained expression on his part. "You seem to keep yourself in good shape," she prompted him mildly.
"I...had a brown belt back in the day," Jack said slowly after a pause.
At least a couple of notches above mine, depending on his unrevealed discipline. We both have our secrets and he hasn't pursued mine, so I'll leave him his. Yet he decided to admit to...something—I wonder what happened?
They both remained silent for the few minutes it took for them to traverse the unlighted section of the highway back. One last curve around a steep hill uncovered the lights of Concordia and Jack's voice.
"Since I seem to have avoided egregious social blunders yet again Miss Skye, would you be amenable to scheduling a next time before I return your respectfully uncoerced and unsullied royal self home?"
"I will allow this since you refrained from uncouth behavior towards my person. Next Thursday OK?"
"Works for me. Now where do you wish to alight upon the earth, your Worship!"