Lycaon

With a final tense tug of his own neckerchief, Lycaon found the mirror vision of himself suitable for work. He was in clean clothing. Everything was precise and wrinkle free. His various items and gadgets were checked, repaired, and secured about his person. And while not directly related with his readiness to protect Belle as they ventured into a Hollow… his fur was clean, silky, and gleaming pleasantly from the tonics he had applied- somewhat regretfully without the help of Lady Belle.

Emerging from the small bathroom in his more cyclopean form, he turned his eye-patched eye upon the closed door to Belle's room. A quick swap of view-modes and he could see her vague silhouette pacing back and forth- as it had been since they'd awkwardly parted company with the hair dryers.

It was plain to Lycaon that Lady Belle was coming to regret her enthusiasm to help him dry his fur. The cultural connotations of her actions seemed to be bothering her a great deal more than Lycaon- who while feeling uneasy and anxious during that time, had had plenty of opportunities to stop her but he had not. If he was honest with himself… he'd been enjoying it too much to do so, even if perhaps he should have.

He hadn't wanted to stop her. And his main regret, though he could never speak it, was that he had reacted so drastically to her stroke of his tail. It had quite simply shocked him.

Belle's soft touch had been… exhilarating. Like an electric current. He couldn't stop thinking about it, even now.

Victoria Housekeeping Tenet #9: Make Up the Client's bed. Never wake up in it.

Lycaon averted his gaze from Belle's privacy and reverted his eyepatch back to normal view mode. His short glance already something of an invasion of privacy. But he'd wanted to see if she was all right.

Victoria Housekeeping Tenet #66: Actions are. Intentions are not.

He sighed. It was a waste of time to quote the tenets at himself when there was work to be done. Lady Belle was shortly to travel across the city, and she intended to use the video store's private vehicle. He had not taken a very close look at the car in the parking lot last night because he had misidentified it as a pile of scrap metal. He would need to evaluate its safety now.

As Lycaon descended the stairs, the sensors at the front door began going off in sequence. With a quick swap of eyepatch modes, Lycaon recognized the return of Wise to the front door. He strode over to the front door and opened it before Wise could trouble himself with his key.

"Gah!" exclaimed Wise in fright, before settling back down with his habitual soft smile. "Oh, it's you, Lycaon. Startled me."

Lycaon's eyes examined Wise up and down in an instant. Wise's hair was disturbed significantly. His shirt was wrinkled, as if he had taken it off and then put it back on after it had spent some time in a pile on the floor.. He smelled of a few different… distinct things.

None of that was Lycaon's business or concern. He ushered Wise quickly into Random Play, removing him from the danger spot of the front entrance as soon as possible. Wise may not be his Principle, but the loss of Lady Belle's brother would certainly cause her great psychological harm. That was not exactly his responsibility, but Lycaon felt impelled to take such considerations into mind.

Victoria Housekeeping Tenet #45: A client is best served holistically.

((Belle turned back to look at him. "I'd love to help you… if you'd let me."))

Lycaon blinked and suddenly realized Wise had just spoken to him. "Forgive me, Lord Wise, could you repeat that?"

"I said I heard the power will be up shortly. Just in time," said Wise. "Where's Belle?"

"She's in her room. Preparing, I presume."

"Gotcha," said Wise, very cheerfully. "I'll get my bangboo ready to go and then get my HDD running."

And Wise went into the staff room to presumably do just that.

Lycaon headed for the parking lot. He knew that Wise was a proxy, and apparently Belle was, as well. He did not know Belle and Wise's alias, but Belobog was a major company in New Eridu and it seemed the CEO sent them private messages. That seemed an indicator of quality.

Still…

Victoria Housekeeping Tenet #12: When in doubt: rely on Victoria.

"Headquarters," said Lycaon to thin air as he walked across the parking lot. "I need carrot service in the Little Twins Hollow in one hour."

"Affirmative, Von Lycaon," said a voice in his ear. "The Victoria Chimneysweeps will be ready."

He felt satisfaction in the effortless acquisition of a secondary escape route for Belle should her operation go south. But then all his satisfaction left him as he gazed upon the salvage-title-with-wheels that was the Random Play automobile.

Lycaon, in a very rare moment, professionally forgave himself for mistaking the car for a pile of scrap metal in the dark. Even in the daylight, it looked like a heap. Carbon dating of every section of the van/car's exterior would probably come back with five different decades.

Lycaon grimaced. It stood out. It certainly could not withstand a bullet. It had big windows everywhere.

The only way he could allow Belle to ride in this automobile would be if he had a partner to sit on the other side of her- while she was crouched down on the floor of the back seat. And even then: only as last resort in a situation that required movement above all else… like perhaps fleeing an active volcanic eruption.

But Lycaon was alone on this assignment and Belle needed to cross the city. There was no suitable courier service, so the only other possibility was the subway system. While that was certainly much more public, there were certain safety advantages to it over the car. The car was stuck on a road. On foot, Lycaon could quickly move Belle out of any dangerous line of fire. The car moved into dangerous places too fast to allow Lycaon to evaluate them. On foot, Lycaon could keep tabs on every angle and sightline in real time. The car was visually distinctive. But Belle alone would appear as any other young woman in the city.

Yes. The subway was plainly the best choice. Lycaon turned his back on the car and returned to Random Play. But he must, as always, consider his own appearance when moving about in the human majority world that was New Eridu. He was a large canine thiren, dressed like a butler, and he knew he generally looked formidable and dangerous- going by reactions he observed in humans, anyway. As a result, Lycaon himself would be the biggest spotlight on Belle and thus he himself would be a liability to her safety. He needed to conceal himself somehow.

But there were not very many of his kind here, what with the ursine variety of thirens generally being the most numerous, especially on this side of the city. But no one would mistake Lycaon for a bear thiren, and he could not disguise himself like the feline thiren, or the other smaller types of thiren's either. No. He would have to remain a wolf thiren. So, then how to appear as something other than he was?

He paused to think. And in that idle moment, he remembered the feel of Belle's hand running down the length of his tail. His fingers twitched slightly at the memory, his mouth opening slightly in a soft panting breath… Lycaon immediately chastised himself for getting excited over an obvious misunderstanding.

And then- it gave him an idea.

He pulled out his cell phone and searched up a magazine he remembered seeing in a canine-thiren owned bodega he sometimes frequented. What was it again? He tried to remember the title, but it always had photos of very youthful and trendy looking male canine thiren's on the cover. A fashion magazine of some kind… Oh, yes, that was it: Alpha Pawda.

Lycaon quickly browsed through some images and found something that seemed about right.

"Headquarters," said Lycaon. "I'm uploading an order for clothing items. The style and sizes will be indicated. Please put it priority one with Victoria Couriers. I need it for an imminent escort."

"Yes, sir."


Belle

After pacing for a while, Belle forced herself to get ready; and when she was done, she started pacing again.

As she walked back and forth across the open space of her bedroom. Belle watched herself with Lycaon in her mind's eye. With each replay, she judged herself more harshly. Replaying for her own self-torture a version of the recent past that painted herself as alarmingly aggressive, somewhat unhinged, and perhaps even totally cringe-... a pervert, in short! What had she been thinking!?

She turned back along her path. But had not Lycaon agreed to it all? Had she not double checked with him that he didn't feel impelled by their relationship's professional dynamic? Had he not given green light after green light?

She turned back along her path. But through the lens of him being her bodyguard, could she trust any of those green lights? Could they not be induced by their power dynamic? Had she forced him to go along with it? Had she not actively negotiated with Lycaon for permission to help him with his grooming? Had she not made a grievous assumption about thiren culture?

She had to apologize. That's all there was to it. Maybe she was blowing this whole tail-touch thing out of proportion in her mind. But the way Lycaon had reacted! It was as if she'd stung him! And apparently only mates did that to each other?! Didn't that mean she may as well have just stroked some other more private part of Lycaon's body?!

Belle froze for a moment as that particular analogy suddenly took physical form and bounced around inside her skull for a few seconds before she could catch it, wrinkle it up in a ball, and stuff it under the figurative rug of her mind where the rest of her dirty things went.

Get a grip, Belle! Just go apologize! The longer you-

Knock. Knock.

Belle's head snapped to the door. Was it time already?

"Lady Belle," came Lycaon's voice. "It is about time we leave. Are you ready?"

Belle took a deep steadying breath and formulated a proper apology: Lycaon, I deeply regret discomforting you with my ignorant and thoughtless actions. It does not erase the pain I've caused you, but I assure you, I did not mean to be…

Belle continued to construct the apology as she opened the door- and then it exploded into a fireball in her mind as she gazed upon what stood before her:

Lycaon was wearing an alluringly tight tank top with stylized text that read: You Eridu but I Eri-don't, and his fur and muscles seemed to be fighting each other for the opportunity to bulge out of it. His cybernetic legs were concealed by a baggy pair of camo-canvas slacks held up with a black belt that was far too long and so its end dangled from Lycaon's waist somewhat provocatively. A ballcap sat upon his head crookedly, half-concealing Lycaon's eyepatch, and as they matched in color, it almost seemed like the eyepatch was a part of the hat. A bandana tied around his neck completed the outfit.

Belle stared at Lycaon in shock. In the brief time she'd known him, he always appeared perfectly formal in his butler uniform. But in this… this… boy-band get up… he looked….

Belle swallowed… why was there so much saliva in her mouth all of a sudden? She felt a little hot, too.

And while age was a bit hard to figure with the furry thirens, Belle thought Lycaon now looked somewhat collegiate.

"Your clothes…" was all that Belle could manage to say.

"Yes, I do hope you will forgive the casual nature of my attire, Lady Belle," said Lycaon, standing as stiffly and as formally as ever. "But it is in the interest of your safety that I temporarily abandon the usual dress code of Victoria Housekeeping."

"M- my safety?" said Belle, her eyes bouncing around the edge of his tank top.

"Yes. It is best we travel via subway today. Your car is too dangerous. But that means I need to look less like a bodyguard."

"You do?" said Belle, who couldn't decide if Lycaon looked more like a pop singer or an irreverent modern mobster.

"Yes," said Lycaon, who withdrew from his pocket not his golden pocket watch, but what appeared to be a retro sports timer like Belle's old highschool P.E. instructor had used, complete with nylon string. "And we should be off soon to make your appointment on time. I understand your brother has his bangboo prepared."

"A- all right," said Belle, still trying to get used to this new Lycaon that was before her. All her carefully worded apology evaporated. She could only fall back onto the direct language she usually employed in apology to her brother. "But before we go, I really have to say sorry about earlier, Lycaon. I didn't think. I think I did something stupid. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"Hurt me?" Lycaon gave her a curious look as he loomed over her. "You have nothing to apologize for, Lady Belle. You did not know. And I am not offended, I assure you."

Belle felt like she couldn't leave it at that. "I promise I won't do anything that might possibly be.., accidentally romantic, or whatever, and make you feel awkward again."

Lycaon stiffened, and Belle feared she'd offended him again.

"Lady Belle," said Lycaon carefully. "If that is your wish, then it will be so; however, that new promise will compromise our cover story for our imminent journey through the city."

"Cover story? What's our cover story?" Belle had not thought she'd have to have some sort of excuse to cross the city, but it must be some aspect of Lycaon's security mindset.

Lycaon averted his gaze from her briefly, then looked back. He made that slightly open-mouthed expression that Belle had seen before. The canine thiren version of a blush.

"We are to pretend to be a casually modern and fashionable interspecial couple."

"Oh," said Belle.