FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The first thing that I notice after waking up on Clover's couch is the dull pain throughout my body. The second is the sudden feeling that I'd really like to slap myself for keeping my phone's morning alarm on after a night like that. Still, I'm up, and it's barely past 7:30. I can't imagine getting any more sleep feeling like this, and Clover... who knows when she'll be up. Kylie said she set her own work hours, right...? With that in mind, I can't imagine she's a morning person, let alone on the weekend.

Right, then. First things first: getting myself off of this couch without giving in to the urge to knock myself out by force. Even with the aches, it should be simple. ...well, it should. If only the light creak from the couch didn't send a sharp jolt of pain through my skull. Even still, I manage to avoid that by quickly lifting myself up using the couch arm for support. Didn't help the aches at all, but at least we could skip the noise.

While I'm trying to regain my balance now that I'm on my feet again, I figure now's as good a time as any to look around. There doesn't seem to be much here, though. A bookshelf off to the side that seems to store game cases and controllers more than actual books, though those aren't entirely absent either. Logically following from that, there's a nice flatscreen TV with a console or two right next to it, one of which is hooked up. Aside from those, all I can really see is the occasional side table lamp or cushy chair. ...a couple napkins with the rings of a glass embedded in them, too. Hm.

My composure regained, the first thing that needs addressing is this horrible thirst. Everything feels so dry, it speaks to the severity of the head pain from earlier that I didn't notice it. If I remember right, the kitchen's through this way...? Yes, there's the dining room table, complete with a few grains of rice and a pea left where I was sitting. I mean, it makes sense considering what happened but... ohhhh, I can't just leave that. I brush the grains and lone vegetable into the palm of my hand and begin looking for a trash can in the kitchen. Unfamiliar territory from here on out, it seems. Thankfully, things are set up pretty simply, and it only takes checking around a few corners to find a bin to discard my scraps. After checking a few more cupboards, I fill a glass and begin restoring life to the desert my mouth's become. It's sadly a persistent feeling, but I do feel better.

Finding Clover now would be pointless. There's no way she's awake. I shouldn't just go home on my own, though; I barely remember the bus stop from last night, and besides, I'd have no way to tell her I'm okay. ...I-I mean, I could call Kylie I guess, but there's that thing with Jill she might be planning for, and then I'd have to explain I recklessly left her friend's house on my own. Without telling said friend. With a hangover, and only hazy memories of places from last... night...

Oh god.

I spilled my guts to her. I'm... I'm so stupid. Even if she's not from work, wouldn't she want to tell Kylie? She sounded worried throughout that whole thing, or the parts I remember, anyway. That would be comforting if not for the fact that several parts of me are screaming in embarrassment and panic at the idea of her just... KNOWING all of that. How much did I say? How can I be sure of what to expect if my memory after leaving's so hazy? ...well, at least now Kylie's not the only reason Clover knows me better than she really ought to at this point, I guess.

With a heavy sigh, followed by another attempt at chasing off this parched feeling, I turn my thoughts to her. Clover... she did so much for me. I might've had a complete meltdown in the middle of the bar in front of everyone from work, were it not for her. And then, she dragged me halfway across town on several transports, took care of that call that would've had another impending panic attack associated with it, gave me food, and... mm. T-Tucked me in. So gently. H-Her hands were... oh gosh. At the bar, too. ...no, nonono, we're not going down that road, brain, the point is that she's wonderful and I should thank her, but... how?

...ohhhhh-hohoho. Kylie mentioned a sweet tooth. And that blissful look on Clover's face... I could never forget that. Perfect. She mentioned she doesn't cook for herself that often, but surely she has some basics here. A few more searches, and I've got it. Flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. The fridge has the rest: eggs, milk, and some butter. This'll do. I couldn't have hoped for the perfect thing to be here to tie this all together, but considering who I'm serving, I doubt the various jams in the fridge door will be minded as a substitute topping. This may take a while, considering how much the aches have been making themselves apparent just scouting the kitchen, but... this is perfect. It'll all be perfect~

* *

...uuuuuugh. What in the hell...? Everything feels heavy. There's no way I should be up right now. Pushing aside the covers, my left arm flails around to look for my phone while the right one's decided that no, it'll take its sweet time waking up from sleeping on it. Dead weight. That's a feeling I'll never get used to, dammit. Finally grabbing it, I turn the screen on and squint trying to read the time. ...why the HELL am I up at 9 in the morning?! I set that alarm for 10:30 for a reason; there's a snowflake's chance in hell that Bonnie's up off my couch at this point, and it's not like I can do much of anything for her like this. That hangover has to be kicking her ass, she'll have head pain even from someone breathing in her general direction too loudly. She... she doesn't deserve that. No one does, except maybe whoever invented the Deploy to Prod button without any safeguards for accidents. Thanks for letting my coworkers find new and inventive ways to destroy the current build we're working with, I guess. Asshole.

Returning to thoughts of my guest, I... Bonnie... god, that basketcase is running herself ragged. Would it kill that husband of hers to show a bit more initiative with recognizing what she does? I mean, I know he cares. He cares a lot. That phone call made that all too clear. Still, the quivering mess of a girl I saw on my couch last night was... I-I just, shit, why couldn't I do anything else for her? At least all that crying wiped her out enough to fall asleep at last. I can only hope she's still sleeping, blissfully free of the pain she's holding onto for a bit.

...wait. Wait a goddamn minute. Why AM I up? Nothing's fallen, no noises, and I don't get up around now anyway, so- ...oh. Oh wow. What is... something coming from the vents? Why's it smell so... sweet??? ...wait, waitwaitwait, no way, no goddamn way, no. There's no way. I throw on the pants I tossed aside last night, bound upstairs to the ground floor, stop by the bathroom to make sure I can at least brush aside the bedhead, then rush further into the house to figure out just what the hell is happening.

The sight I find when reaching the kitchen is... unbelievable. Bonnie, staring down at a frying pan with intense concentration- well, as intense as it can be when it looks like she's flinching in pain every so often- with a bowl of batter on her left and two growing plates of pancakes on her right. Most of them look perfect, too, only the bottom ones of each plate have even a bit of char on the edges. Is... is this girl crazy, or just unstoppable? Is this what her husband wakes up to???

"B-Bonnie?" One more flinch and a surprised yelp from that ball of fluff, and she turns to face me. Is her tail wagging again? ...heh, that was cute last night. Compliments, even secondhand, seem to be an easy way to get her going.

"Oh! Uh, h-hi Clover, I just- I was just, I-I-I wanted to- ghhh- t-thank you. For everything. A-And these are simple, so I just, I-" God, she's burning up. And unless I calm her down again, there'll be no stopping her trying to justify flexing her cooking muscles on a goddamn hangover.

"-a-and, it was all so kind of you, I figured I- well, who WOULDN'T feel a need to do something for- o-owww... someone that-"

"Bonnie? Bonnie, hold it there. Just calm down. I see what you're doing, and... wow. I don't know what to say. ...except that I ought to give you a hand, big gal. Take a seat, okay? I can handle this last one, and those stacks are already- holy sh... holy crap, how many are there???" These're no shortstacks from a diner. There's gotta be at least five or six per plate already, and that's not including the ones buried in each mound. I quickly head over and look into the bowl, confirming there's still a decent bit of batter there. She was gonna make even more?! I... oh my god, is this girl an angel or something?

"I couldn't, I- I need to make it up to you, Clover, I just-"

"Hey." After grabbing the spatula she's been using and flipping the sizzling dough, I put a hand on her shoulder.

"You've done so much already, okay, Bonnie? Please... I know you're hurting. Head to the table. I'll see you in just a minute, 'kay?"

"I-I- oh gosh, okay." Heh. She's blushing even harder now. That shimmer in her bright blue eyes is back, too. Good. Seeing that glow be reduced to a glazed-over haze from that goddamn idiot serving her, then watching tears pour out later... well, it was a lot, I'll say that much. Got worried I'd seen it snuffed out for good, honestly. As she heads over to the table, occasionally putting a hand to her head, I take stock of my kitchen's current state. ...huh, not much mess. A few drops of batter have caked over the length of stovetop between the bowl and the pan, but I can safely say I'd do worse even at my best.

As I put the last of the pancakes on the stack missing one, I notice she's already set out some toppings. ...heh, strawberry jam, orange marmalade, and grape jelly, plus a side dish of the butter. It's a shame I didn't have any syrup in the fridge, but she certainly knows how to make do. It's all fantastic. I just hope the results of her hard work will brighten her day enough to make up for the pain she put herself through. Silly girl.

I get some plastic wrap to cover the bowl of remaining batter for later. Bracing the jars against myself with my arm, I bring the plates to the table. Bonnie's just looking down, twiddling her thumbs and nursing a headache. I set my plate down, and at the sound, she jumps in surprise a bit. There we go. Now once the jars are safely on the table, I head over to her side with her own plate. Setting it down, I put my other hand on her shoulder, then make sure to whisper to avoid setting off the head pain this close.

"It all looks amazing, Bonnie. You did wonderful. I'd never have done even half as good a job if I tried this, and with at least twice the mess. You're really something, big gal." Oooh, that got her. Theeeere's that deep blush, and her tail's wagging full speed.

"Hhheeehehehee, I, I just, um. Thank you. Thank you, Clover." Awww, reduced to giggles. God, she's adorable like this. ...some restraint may be in order, though, Clover, just- just back off before things get out of hand. One firm squeeze on her shoulder before letting go, and I head back to my seat across the table. Time to dig into what she's made. It's only polite, and they look heavenly besides. I spread a bit of butter on the first one I've targeted, and tear off a bit with my fork. It's so soft, pulling off a chunk is nearly effortless. This bodes VERY well.

As I take the first bite, I can feel a wave of relief wash over me. It's as fluffy as it looks, and the butter brings out a rich flavor. After swallowing, I find my breathing has quickened. God, I'm a sucker for good sweets. ...aaaaand Bonnie's noticed. Even in her achy, tired state, her eyes are lit up as brilliantly as they were when she was cooking, just watching my reaction. Well, if it's a show she wanted, I was all too happy to oblige. She'll get even more of one when we get around to trying the jams on these.

"So... Bonnie. What time did you get up, anyway? You can probably guess what woke ME up, but... you were completely smashed last night. I expected to come up here at my alarm's beck and call and see you resting soundly, nursing a full-body ache." Hmmm. She's fidgeting a bit. At least she's eating. She'll need it.

"I... My alarm was still set to wake me up early, so... 7:30 or so? I usually get up to do a run-through of the house around then, see if anything needs doing before our weekend starts."

"And... and you just got up anyway? And then made breakfast? While I can only assume your entire body's in pain, let alone the splitting headache I could tell was causing you trouble while cooking?" She's looking down now. Hm.

"Y... Yes. I wanted to... to repay you. Since last night. Everything was... it was all so sweet. I was going to just- I can't imagine what I would've done in front of everyone if you hadn't been there. So this is the least I could do. I honestly wish I could do more. ...it does hurt, though, you're right. It took a while just to get to the kitchen." I sigh a bit, partly from the sweet, fruity jam on the bite of pancake I've just eaten, and partly in awe at her dedication and recklessness. It's amazing. She's amazing. I'll need to get her on the bus safely later.

"Okay... you win. It's all wonderful. I'll admit, mornings can eat my- I-I mean, I'm not a morning person, but this stuff could wake me from a coma. Anything I can do for you? Besides getting you home safely once you're good to go, I mean."

"Hmhm... well, you uh... you don't have to hold back on my account." W-Wait, for... no, no she's NOT talking about that, you idiot, she's goddamn married!

"I noticed you've been stopping yourself when you speak. It's not my style, I'll admit, but I don't have a problem listening to you, Clover. Speak your mind. An old gal like me can take it, you know."

"Oh please, I'm twenty-five, Bonnie, and there's no way you're that much older. And if you are, you've aged damn gracefully. ...but yeah, as I was saying, mornings can eat my entire ass. Just suffocate." Some giggles from the compliment, and more with an expression that's some mix of bewildered and entertained at the latter phrasing. She's just an endless fountain of adorable laughter, one I'm glad to partake in while she's here. With a bit more small talk back and forth, it's not long before we're back at the couch, I've gotten her some more water- no surprise she's thirsty- and I'm pulling up something for us to watch while she rests. Volume down, subtitles on, avoid action MOVIES specifically, because I swear, those things have some obsession with blasting the speakers so hard they could cave my walls in.

I know she has to go soon. I know I'll probably talk with her again, though how soon depends on her. This time has been wonderful, and I'll treasure every second the way she enjoyed last night before she was handed her third tea.

Well, Ky'll want to hear all about the devoted little dog's show of gratitude, anyway, so that's something to look forward to.