Lycaon
Gathering Belle's small form into his arms, Lycaon found himself grateful for her interference. His choice to honor the customs of the Sons of Calydon was not one he had been comfortable with: drinking on duty? Fighting needlessly for sport in the presence of his principal? In a location he had not secured? Absurd choices made at the end of dubious chains of logic, pressured by the immediacy of a moment of decision.
His focus on petty politics and the accomplishment of Belle's goals had overridden his basic responsibility for her safety. Did he really forget that easily? That nothing mattered if Belle was killed because he failed to protect her?! Lycaon felt a growing anger at himself. What had he been thinking? He knew already he was not in his full fighting form.
And Lycaon was sure of that based on how he'd taken the single punch from the Overlord's bodyguard, Lighter. He'd staggered- even from a very well-pulled blow. After all, he was already walking wounded- suffering two close range explosions just two days ago, and then the debilitating strikes from Void Hunter Hoshimi Miyabi just this morning. Oh, and the dislocation of his shoulder was… what- three days ago? Four? Lycaon couldn't quite remember; but his injuries were sure stacking up.
But he'd realized his defeat to Lighter was a near surety at almost the same moment Belle ran into the street to rescue him. And a rescue it was, and Lycaon's concession to Lighter had been genuine. Lycaon felt fortunate in satisfying the Sons of Calydon's cultural properties while escaping with no further injury, accidental or not.
Protecting Belle! Back to basics! That's what Lycaon needed to do. Get his principal to a secure location and see to her needs. It never needed to be more complex than that.
What tools did he have?
"Miss Ellen!" barked Lycaon, his commanding tone loud in the night. Belle winced and grumbled in his arms.
"So loud…"
Ellen, previously asleep on her barstool, shot to her feet with almost mechanical immediacy. She lifted her scissor weapon and her eyes roved for a source of danger. Lycaon was somewhat gratified by her response.
"Miss Ellen," said Lycaon, as Lucy began to lead him in the direction of this so-called Cottage Room. "I will settle Lady Belle for the night. Come along."
Ellen blinked, looked around at the sky, and took out her cell phone. Then she looked up and fixed Lycaon with an ornery look. "Nah."
Lycaon blinked and came to a halt, Belle mumbling something in his arms as she seemed intent on dozing lightly. He didn't think she was really sleeping, but maybe just trying to stay out of a budding conflict between himself and Ellen.
"Pardon?!" said Lycaon, realizing that his voice was near a snarl.
"It's past my shift and it's Friday," said Ellen, returning his irritation with a sneer. "I'm done till Monday, Lycaon."
Lycaon felt a rare surge of anger at frustration at Ellen. Was now really the time to worry about the niceties of shift hours and overtime?! Lady Belle's life was at stake! And they were in the Outer Ring! It's not like this was any given Friday night! The woman he-...
Belle! Belle was out here, exposed, in danger, and Ellen was acting like this was a normal assignment!
But then Lycaon took a deep breath, as he often needed to do in all the years he knew Ellen- and considered her position: She was a high schooler- yes; and about to graduate; and over 18 years of age; but still a high schooler. Victoria Housekeeping was a part-time job for her, not a salaried career position like his own. And this was a job where most situations were some form of crisis, so there was really no special consideration for crisis situations because crises were mundane.
And while she was something of a daughter to Lycaon, Ellen was also something like a little sister to him, too. He had no real authority except that of their long relationship. Lycaon took another deep breath.
"Then where do you intend to stay, Ellen?" said Lycaon, deciding he had no right to command her.
"You're all my guests!" said Ceasar from her stool, a glass of nitro in her hand. "I'll take care of her, don't you worry!"
Ellen grinned at Lycaon in victory, her smile a jagged forest of shark teeth. Lycaon felt his ears flatten on the back of his head in dismay and he took another deep breath to quell his own trepidation. Would she be all right? Well- she was Ellen, so- yes. Would everyone else be all right? That was perhaps the more pertinent question. In the end.. It was Ellen's choice.
"Very well," said Lycaon. "But please stay in contact."
"Yeah, yeah," said Ellen, already turning away as the woman asleep next to her also yawned herself awake.
"How about a drink, Ellen?!" said Burnice, bouncing her way down the bar.
"Uh…" said Ellen.
"Don't give her too much, Burnice!" shouted Lucy over her shoulder, her voice shrill.
"Okay~!" shouted back Burnice, with a tone that didn't seem entirely trustworthy.
Lycaon took a deep breath, parental instincts objecting in his mind. But: Ellen was off duty. The Outer Rim had no drinking age- or really any established laws. And Ellen was a literal warrior who fought in mortally dangerous situations almost every day. If Ellen wanted to drink when she was off duty, it was not Lycaon's prerogative, or his right, to stop her. He clamped his mouth shut as he followed Lucy down the street, Belle's legs lightly bouncing in his arms.
"Oh, hey Piper!" said Burnice. "You're awake, too!"
"I miss somethin'?" said the again-yawning Piper. "Who are these folks?"
"I'll tell ya all about it!" said Burnice. "This is Ellen! She's a maid!"
"Yeah… I kinda figured…" said Piper. "Cause… ya' know… the maid costume…"
Lycaon followed Lucy a relatively short distance down the street, passing what seemed to be a diner, before they loaded onto a sort of elevator with a bangboo upon it. As Lucy and Lycaon stepped aboard, the raggedly little robot jumped up and pulled down a lever, causing the platform to descend. Lycaon suspected that the pulling of the lever was the bangboo's singular purpose in the world.
Below them, there was a tiny sub-neighborhood of the town, nestled snugly against the cliff which they now descended. Upon arriving to ground level, Lucy led Lycaon across a small cul'de'sac, up a narrow metal stairwell which double backed upon itself up a red brick building, dusty and sun-beaten. This must be the edge of the town, because an immense black void of night could be seen stretching into the distance, the moon only lightly illuminating the peaks of bare stone and the gleaming surface of a distant hollow's dome
At the top, there was a box-ish sort of structure that appeared to have been added atop the roof of the brick building almost as an afterthought. Lucy pushed open the door and stood aside, allowing Lycaon to carry Belle into a rather tiny living space. He ducked slightly to get his ears in.
"It was unlocked?" said Lycaon.
"This is Blazewood," said Lucy, scoffingly. "What's there to steal? But it locks from the inside. It's on the door."
Lycaon checked. There was indeed a sturdy deadbolt, but the door was of such thin wood that it seemed a moot accessory. He certainly could not leave Belle alone in a place like this, that much was certain. Not that he had much of a choice without his usual security equipment. Not that he wanted to leave Belle alone, at all…
"Anyway," said Lucy, "See you both in the morning. We'll all head out when everyone is up. Probably about noon."
Noon?! But before Lycaon could ask, she shut the door and he could hear her descending the stairs. Out of habit more than faith in its efficacy, Lycaon snuck out the hand least responsible for supporting Belle in his arms and he drew closed the deadbolt.
"Belle?" said Lycaon, looking around the room. "Would you care to bathe, or would you prefer to go right to bed?'
The 'Cottage Room' was a tiny affair; Belle-sized even, one might say. It was a room about the same size as the bed and a small bathroom attached- and that was about it. The furniture, which was the bed itself and a lamp table, was certainly handmade and functional, but of a very basic design.
Belle's eyes blinked open and she grimaced as if against a headache. "Mm… bed… but- I guess I should really bathe first. Where are we? Is this the hotel room?"
"Yes," said Lycaon, trying to keep the disapproval out of his voice and failing. "Such as it is."
"It's dark," Belle turned her head and blinked up at him, her eyes widening. "Your eye is glowing, Lycaon."
Lycaon realized he hadn't turned on the light yet. Belle probably couldn't see much of anything in here, except the faint gleam of the tapetum in his eyes. He looked for a light switch, found it, and pushed it- a button type, apparently- flimsy and plastic. Belle winced away from the sudden glare of a bare bulb.
"Jeeze!" She blinked a few times. "You can set me down, Lycaon. Please."
Lycaon set Belle lightly to her feet. The harsh light added new detail to the room around them. Everything had a sense of age and wear to it, from the faded paint to the somewhat tired look of the linens upon the bed. But all the same, it appeared clean and it smelled clean, even to Lycaon's nose. It would do.
Belle walked into the bathroom with a few woozy steps. Lycaon assured himself that she wasn't in danger of falling. She seemed all right.
"How do you feel?" said Lycaon as she vanished through the small doorway.
"Like crap," said Belle. "But I think the whole throwing up was actually a good thing for me. That nitro stuff is strong…"
Lycaon turned his attention to the bed and saw a few wrinkles he could get rid of. And there were six water bottles on the little table. That surely indicated that the water in the pipes might be fit for bathing, but perhaps not ideal for drinking. "There is water out here. We should be sure to hydrate before sleeping.
Belle made an affirmative grunt from the bathroom and was quiet for a time. Lycaon took out a cloth from his vest and dusted the bed frame, fluffed the pillow, and generally did what he could to improve the state of the room. It had little notable impact, but the routine of the work relaxed Lycaon slightly.
"Lycaon?" called Belle from inside the bathroom.
Lycaon finished up his fidgeting with the bed and entered the bathroom. Belle was sitting upon the closed toilet (the only place to sit) and was pulling down her single stocking, revealing her shapely leg. Lycaon averted his gaze, but there wasn't much anywhere to avert it to, save to a linoleum wall.
"Are you going to shower, too?" said Belle, her eyes still blinking away some obvious weariness.
Lycaon certainly wanted to, after the battle with Soldier 11 and her squad, plus the dusting provided him by the helicopter rotors when it had dropped them both off outside Blazewood.
"Yes, but you go first, Belle."
"Nah," said Belle, standing up and pulling off her shirt in front of him. "Let's shower together."
"P- pardon?" said Lycaon, his heart beating in mild exhilaration at the sight of Belle in only a skirt and bra. Then he looked at the small, standing shower which took up most of this tiny space.
"You can't even bend over in there, so: shower with me," said Belle as she unclasped her bra and Lycaon blinked in surprise at the sudden unexpected freedom of her bare breasts- pert and alluring.
Belle offered a small smile. "I'll suds your lower fur while you do your upper body. We'll get you done in half the time, dry you off, and go to bed together."
The idea of squeezing into the shower with Belle had never crossed Lycaon's mind. It was barely big enough for him! And to bathe with Belle?!
"That's hardly appropriate for-"
"Don't give me that, Lycaon!" said Belle with mild exasperation. "We're both tired. We both need a shower. And what? You don't remember what we did this morning? …what you did inside me, this morning?"
Lycaon felt a wave of embarrassment and guilt. "Belle! I apologize for-"
"I said it's fine, Lycaon," said Belle, obviously amused at his reaction. "I'm just bringing it up because… well- our relationship is a little escalated beyond just showering together, already. So: strip!"
As if to reinforce her own command, Belle shoved down her own skirt and her panties with it, revealing her entire nakedness to Lycaon in a nonchalant and everyday sort of way. She was obviously making the point that this wasn't a sexual encounter, and he should view it the same way. Lycaon realized that Belle wanted this situation to be a moment of a more… everyday intimacy.
In that light, Lycaon found himself without further counter-argument. Bathing together did seem reasonably less… intense then their prior intimate encounters. And why was he always trying to find reasons to keep himself away from Belle? Were not his objections with himself only a habit, at this point?
And it was true: cleaning his fur was a process, and if she was working with him…
Lycaon sighed and nodded to her. "I suppose we are indeed beyond impropriety."
"Right?" said Belle, hands on her hips, staring at him, naked.
Lycaon began undressing and Belle smiled at him warmly. She turned away, her butt drawing Lycaon's eye as she leaned into the shower stall to manipulate the water. The pipes clunked but soon water was shooting out of the showerhead with surprisingly strong pressure and heat.
Before he quite believed it was happening, Lycaon was naked in the shower with water streaming down his chest, and Belle was in the tiny bit of free space between his torso and the wall of the shower. He blocked all of the water out of the showerhead, but enough of it ricocheted and waterfalled off his body to drench Belle in short order.
"Your legs are fine in the water?" said Belle as she squeezed out a liberal amount of the shampoo from the bottle Lycaon always kept with him.
She handed him the bottle next, and he kept himself from flinching as Belle's hands immediately and eagerly clawed into the fur of his waistline and began rummaging about, creating a healthy soapy froth. She seemed to be enjoying herself…
"Entirely waterproof," said Lycaon, squeezing out shampoo into his own hands and sudsing up the fur on his head and face.
As he did so, he couldn't help but watch Belle as she progressed along his lower body, leaving sudsy fur in her wake, the fall of water not quite enough to wash it all away on its own. Belle's smooth skin and curvy form were a delight to look at. And her breasts bounced gamely with her efforts at washing him. Lycaon could not quite look away from her.
And before long, Lycaon's body responded.
Something decidedly NOT covered in fur emerged from its liar. As soon as he realized it was happening, Lycaon closed his eye and tried to calm himself, but it was already far too late. How could he have let this happen?! In this… mostly… slightly innocent situation?!
Was he some hound in his first rut?!
"...Whoa," said Belle suddenly. "Hello."
"Kindly ignore the… disobedience of my body, Belle," said Lycaon, feeling his ears go flat in embarrassment. "I have no intent to-"
Belle glanced up at him with a mischievous smile. "I think I already knew he likes me, Lycaon."
Lycaon wasn't sure what his own face looked like after hearing Belle's comment, but whatever it was, Belle seemed to find it hilarious. Her light laughter filled the tiny bathroom. She then resumed clawing shampoo into the fur of his thighs, paying no heed to his engorgement.
"Well, he can wait his turn," said Belle, amusement in her voice. "Let's take care of the rest of you first, Lycaon."
An expected thrill ran through Lycaon. Did she mean…? Well… perhaps there were considerable advantages to certain… mutually accepted improprieties.