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Jorek Mackgart tapped an jerking staccato beat with one footpaw, horribly out of sync with the music in his ears as the other one leg bobed slightly, thrown over the opposite knee.

Sunlight bounched off of the travertine-and-limewood floor in bright rays had him squinting and muttering to himself that why in the world would his sector's head doctor ask for a check up today?

'Just a regular check-up' my striped ass-cheeks...A check-up wouldn't have taken so long to be even started. He punched the forward button to skip ahead a track on his phone with more force than the poor button deserved.

The large, 22-year old, musclar tiger leaned forward slightly in his seat, asthonishing icy orbs shifted slowly to and fro across both ends of the hallway he found himself confined to.

Nope. No sign of his favorite doctor in sight so far.

Wonder what I've done this time...Haven't even gone 'Uber-Naked Commando' through the hallways as much as usual this month...

Jorek tilted his head to the side, cheeks puffed up in thought, eyes half-lided. ...At least I don't think I have. Pretty sure last time I wore a jock-strap...that couldn't be called 'being indcently dressed' could it?

He made an half-hearted attempt to shift on his seat, backside well beyond numb at this point. A real shame that, too; he had a really nice ass...

With a sigh Jorek tipped back in his seat, arms going limp at his sides, mouth pinched together. He pulled the earphones out before stuffing them down his khaki shorts.

He blew a sharp, snorting breath through his pink nose, eyes briefly roving across the cealing. Why couldn't his appointment have been sheduled some other day? Preferbly on a rainy one when he'd actullay want to be inside all day.

But no, it had to be sunshine and too quiet all at once. Figures. Not that he minded the sunshine, it were the silence that threw some shade on his day, however.

Jorek had never been fond of silence; too easy to loose oneself in it and become taken by surprise. Which were never a good thing for someone like him who were trained for war.

...Unless said surprise involved an attractive individual, a very large cake, and also his birthday.

With a mental headshake Jorek snapped up from his seat. Azuka could chew him out later about not being where he was suppoused to be when he should be, but if he had to sit down a minute longer he'd go even more crazy than some people claimed he were.

He gave mental shrug. Whatever— everyone had a cross to carry, and he wouldn't hide his behind his back if he could help it. That didn't mean he wouldn't try to beat someone half to death with it should they give him enough flack about it; crosses were heavy shit after all.

His more than most. Or so he liked to privately believe.

No. Don't go there. Breathe, focus on the present, Jorek told himself the old mantra his psychiatrist had drilled into him years prior, as he stopped below a clock on the wall, it's ticking dousing him like trickles of water. He could focus on that.

White, circular plastic frame. Red clock-arms shuddering as the day continued to advance. Second by second.

Some days the waiting were the worst. He'd probably been in the field too long for that notion to set in.

Nothing a couple of missions wouldn't shake loose hopefully. Jorek focued every little thought on the arms, visiualed how they turned the opposite way. Backwards. Slowly...

A slight shudder went through them as his will bent the mecanisms back the way he wanted them too, the small mousy cogweels working to turn, his power drenshing them throughly. A slight pale bluish gravitatonal lensing gripped the clock in a barely perciveble ice-colored cloud.

A tiny voice at the corner of his mind told that he was getting too bold, he pushed it away, poured more power forth from the ether, like a star pulsating, invisibly tied to his person. He was more than fine! He were in full control. He wouldn't break it, no, he were sure of that.

Glass shattered, the shards thumbled out of the telekinetic hold he had on them as he yelped with a start, said control leaving him in a flash, reminicent of a sudden punch to the gut. The rest of the mangled clock followed, down it went with a resounding clatter that had him winching.

Oops. Shit. He peerd at the remains curiously, from a safe enough distance, thick tiger tail giving a flop as his posture deflated. Gimme a break! Now I've done it. I'm going to be peeling potatoes in the kicthen for a month, and then I'll be dead from boredom.

Jorek gave another yelp as someone, without warning, smacked him up the back of the head.

“What have I told you about using your powers outside of the training center? You think the rules are any different for you than for others?"

Azuka's voice clipped across the ears, tone so icy cold that it had turned her voice even with calm. It threw his mind into spinning—think, think! How to get out of this one...

Eyes still overly glued to the clock-carcass, he said, “Is it legal to marry a banana?" at the same time as two fingers gave his ear a sharp pull, and kept on pulling.

“Hey—what—Ow, ow!" Jorek had no choice but to follow along as he were ruthlessly tugged by the smarting grip on one rounded ear.

He grimached as he tried to relax in an attempt to loosen the streatching burn at the root of his ear. “Easy! Loosen it up, would you? You're gonna pull it off!" He said, voice raised into an pained squeak.

Azuka snorted, “Hah, Good—maybe then you'll learn to behave, finally." As if to further her point, she yanked on his ear once more, drawing another squeak from him as she turned into her office, him trailing after in an awkward crounching cave-man like hobble.

A sigh escaped from him as she finally let him go to slip around her cluttered desk—complete with her very own coffe-cup version of the leaning tower of Pisa.

Jorek gingerly reached up to touch his abused ear, after a quick scan showed that the female snow-leopard sat safely at armslenght. His ear pulsated, like someone tried to yank it off with a pair of fricking pliers.

He looked at her.

Her eyes narrowed in turn.

“Don't give me that look Jorek," Impressivlly enough, she began to neaten up a pile of documents, all while keeping him in her sight, “Things like these are exactly why no-one can take you seriously."

Bulging arms crossing, Jorek pushed his shoulders back where he still stood close to the door, chin tipped up.

“Who said I wanted to be taken seriously?" He said with an arched brow, voice coming out colder than he'd intened, past the half-stiff, slanted smile his muzzle formed.

She shook her head, hand going over the blue square of her hard-light computer screen an handful of times, information opening up, documents uploading.

As he noticed her work, Jorek's back wound up like a steel coil, tension steadily trickled down as a small lump formed in his belly. He watched her work in silence, mind going through what could be the cause for the wrinkle cutting up between her elegant eyebrows, not to mention her sour mood.

“Something up, Zu-Zu?" Jorek said with a percariously easygoing smile.

She didn't even bother looking away from the screen when she replied.

“Don't try and charm your way out of this one..." Her voice turned briefly dry with half-heartedness, but it were the dark circles under her eyes that he noticed the most, carved forth by the glow from the screen. She must've gotten less sleep than usual.

But because of what?

They were as he rememberd them; not blue or grey but stark, down-right astounding purple, broken off only by the blackness of the round pupil.

Her features were equaly strinking; sharp, angularness mixed with an elegant, mature air. Almost the aura of noblity.

From top to toe white and grey fur coated her tall, dazzlingly mature form, complete with rossete spots and a fluffy long tail that danced behind her like a gossamer snake.

Jorek's eyes traced Azuka's desk for answers, but found no paper or document on it that could give him more insight.

“Stop snooping—you're not going to find anything." She said, tone once more drying up, making him jerk with a start at being discovered; She'd looked fully absorbed in her work!

Jorek shrugged jovially at being caught. “Fine, if you're not gonna tell me what got your panties in a twist, you could at least tell me why I'm imprisoned among dried coffee cups and broken ink pens."

“Alright." A brief look of something that seemed like resignation flashed across her features, sort of like a half-formed protest that had been swallowed down before fully forming.

“There's an psionic advancement training facility down in Arisona; the Overseer there has extened an offer to train about a dozen of trainees, so John and I thought that—"

Jorek intrupted her by slapping an hand across his face and drag it downwards with a groan. “Not this again. Oh Azuka," He spread his arms briefly to the side. “We've been through this—I told you: I'm not going to go to some advancement facility, I won't!"

Azuka started to rise from her seat, “You always say that but never tell us why," she rounded her workdesk to stand before him, placing herself between him and the office door.

Of course she would. She's not gonna let this one go... Jorek thought drily with a mental eyeroll. Guess he had no choice but to face the oncoming storm...

He scrathed an sporadic itch at the neck, “I'm not just intrested..." He said with a high, one-sided shrug.

From the way her entier face flatend she wasn't buying it. A sigh tore from her as she crossed her arms, mirroring his earlier gesture, more resignation on her face then before.

“Jorek, you can't keep living in fear of past accidents. What happned, happned, there's nothing you can do to change that—" She stepped close, enough for Jorek to make out the scent of coffee lingering on her white doctor's coat in a brown splash at the collar, the traces of slight cinamon-ish perfume on the patch right below her ear. “—But you can make sure incidents like that won't happen so easily in the future." She caressed down his cheek, touch familiar, slowing down to tip his chin up with her thumb and indext finger. She gave him a coaxing smile, voice soft, “Try. Won't you even try?"

Her words sent a jolt into his mind, like a current running across an receptive metal thread. For a moment, the urge to gape at her almost overwhelmed him.

Try? As if I haven't tried enough alredy! She if anyone should know just how much...

He pulled away from her, head lowering, chest as heavy and loaded as the trembling sigh he let out. Last thing he wanted to do was to start crying in front of her like he were ten years old all over again. Instead he took a mouthful of air and said as calmly as possible.

“I have tried, Azuka, for years. I've done nothing but try! I can't control the flames and—" His chest snared together, hands balling into fists at his side as he tried to speak past the pressure in his chest. “—And it's not worth the risk to try anymore." His voice broke.

That decade-old ache, still there after all the time...Jorek barely resisted the impulse to slam his fist down into the nearest object, the guilt bubbling up to the surface like ash in his lungs. Mom...Dad...I'm so sorry...But what use is there to ask for fogivness that will never be heard, never be given?

Azuka began to shake her head, eyes pleading. “Jorek—“

“—Don't force me to go there." He took a step back from her, tail swaying in broad agiated lashes behind him as something hoarse, almost strangled wormed into his voice as he forced himself to met her gaze. His troat started closing in. “Please." He almost didn't care how his voice craked on the last syllable.

“Remember what happned last year? Going after a drug cartel in Mogadisu?"

Jorek's ears pinned themselves back, gut sinking further down. “Vaugley." He said, arms crossing once more, the lump in his belly grew heavier, all the while he fought down the urge to make a beeline for the door.

Trying to make me feel guilty, the nerve!

As soon as the sudden offence came it were gone.

No. She's trying to make me understand the danger...Oh Azuka, I know how dangerous I am, I'm a walking, talking nuke with an milimeter fuse in the wrong conditions.

“Loss of control, you almost began to turn an block of the city into a reenactment of Pompeii."

It had been even worse than she could describe it. And she hadn't been there.

Blue flames eating away at the rooftops...Screams coloring the air...All my fault. Again.

Jorke fisted a hand tight against his side. “I remember," he said, tone clipped. “It worked out in the end though."

“You can bet on it that it won't always work knocking you unconscious; your brain will catch on eventually, and then the danger could be unprecedented."

Azuka sliped around to her desk again, a flick of her hand sending a swarm of holo-screens out into a wall stacked infront of her.

“You're psionic energy scale is beginning to rise into the _Tetra s_urge stage."

Jorke's hearbeat raced inside his chest, like a wild bird wanting to break free. He swallowed, “But the surgery--"

Azuka arched her brows. “That surgery was done on you when you were ten, Jorek. I'm surprised you still believed it had any effect: your Psionic Bridge has fully healed long ago."

Jorek nodded slowly. “I see." Did he stare? He felt like he did.

“Can it be performed again?" He almost flinced at the sound of his own voice.

Smooth move, idiot. Now you'll make her feel like her work's been all for nothing. All Jorek could do were to stand silent, hands clasped against his belly, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't neuter him. Or cry. He'd take neuterd over having to hear her cry any day.

“It could. It would also leave you a drooling vegetable." She said, hand fluttering from one screen to the next, shrinking some while closing others down. She didn't look at him.

Ouch. She's super-mad at me for sure. Jorek grimaced softly as he forced himself to shift closer to her desk. The holo-screens seemed more like a wall of shields to him now.

“Azuka--"

“If you don't want to, I can't force you..." She briefly moved her slim metal glasses with a hand before rubbing at her eyes. “However, I want you to know I am dissapointed in you."

But don't you understand?! Can't you see how terrfied I am?! Jorek swallowed down the scream that wanted to lunge out from his mouth.

His head hanged as he let out a sigh. “I'll think about it, okay?" He glanced up at her even as he kept his chin down.

“You do that, but I won't push you." She said as the smallest of smiles curved to grace her lovely face.

A small thrill raced through his belly in fluttering strokes at the change on her face, and he smiled back at her almost immidiatly. Only thing that mattered were that she was happy again.

“There's something else I need to tell you." Azuka removed her glasses and hung then on the hem of her nekline.

“Oh don't say anything—We're getting low on coffee aren't we?" Jorek did his best to look as horrified as possible, even though he cared as much for tea as coffee.

“What? No, no we aren't, could you please--"

“Not interrupt you?" Jorek's smile inched up slighty higher, but oh teasing her were just too much fun.

Azuka rolled her eyes, “Yes, now shut your piehole and listen. It's not going so well for our sector, it seemes like we aren't going to met the general quota this year..." she rubbed at her temple with a hand, face grim.

So that's why she wants to send me to that advancement facility; for the sector's economy. Shit, might have to actually consider doing it, then.

“I suppouse we can't liberate other countries from every drug cartel there is or rescuse every hostage there is, huh?" He said while scrathching behind his neck.

“Jorek be sereious." Azuka said with a half-hearted glare even as one corner worked itself up again.

“Have I ever told you I'm into shoe-making though? Now there's a winning concept if I ever heard of one!"

“Oh okay, that's it. I give up. Shoo, out." She proceeded to laziliy flick her writs in the direction of the doorway.

For all his seemingly jovial manner, his inside were wringed. It was one thing that they had no jobs to undertake in the coming weeks, but no work for an entier year? That was troubing, and had he been a few years younger, he might have a relished the months filled with reading and playing video games or traning, but now, the prospect of such months seemed bleak and long-suffering. He needed things to do, or he'd get jittery, Jorek knew.

“Just out of curiocity; how long is the advancment course taking?" Jorek smooth two fingers down his chin.

“Three months, give or take he said."

“Great, that leaves only 9 more months for me to fill." Jorek said in a mocking tone of dissmay that had Azuka chukling. Which was the whole point.

“Maybe you could fix the clock that you so wisely broke? That would be a start."

“Ah c'mon baby, it was a mistake, and an ugly clock and you know it!" He said with gusto. “If anything, I helped the desinger get more juice to the place!"

Azuka crossed her arms, smile disarming as she drummed an ink-pen against an elbow. “U-huh. Well, it's either fixing or buying a new one, mister."

Jorek puffed out one cheek. “Aw shucks, and I have no money..."

“Well maybe if you didn't have such a expensive hobby of buying suggestive underwear, maybe you could afford it.

Jorek puffed his chest up in stubborn pride. “They make me feel pretty and desirable, and are worth every penny, I might add."

“Oh God I hope they are—you look gastly in them."

“I look 'inviting'!"

“Jorek, the hole was at the front!"

“Exscuse me, Mother Mary, but it actually had holes rear and front, thank you very much! That was sort of the thing."

Azuka flopped back with all the grace of an 18th century court lady, a hand slapped across her eyes before it dragged itself down the rest of her face, “Oh maker, I'm too sober for this kind of conversation..."

“You and me both, but I'll be less sober come evening." Jorek crossed his arms with a self-induglent smile.

Azuka sent a long-suffering stare up the roof. “Spare me details, you wicked man."

“Picture it; romantic candelight, great food, and a glass of some Chateau Lafite, then I sensually and sexily stir up my parther--"

“--I didn't know Cassanda identifed as a bowl of stew, good for her--"

“--before I laciviously and lecherously make fleshy love to them." Jorek smiled before he gave her a bumptious wink.

“Yes, that oughta turn the water-works on, might not be the ones you were hoping for though." Azuka let out a dry chuckle. “Just because I like to nag on you, it's one of my favorite pass times; you do know that as a Carrier your body don't take to liquor well, and I'd really not have you in the Infirmary for the the rest of the week, so..."

Jorek rolled his eyes, “So I'll take it slow—leech the fun out of everything, why don't you."

“It's dirty work but someone has to do it!" She had the audacity to reach forward and pinch his pink nose with her thump and indexfinger, before deftly pulling away before he could tickle her or otherwise retaliate.

“You're a cheat, you know that?" Jorek sniffed and flicked his nose so his whiskers fluttered.

Azuka winked one impossibly colorful eye at him, “Always, now, get your lazy ass moving and make sure your date turns out splendid."

Jorek rose and pushed back his chair in place. “Doctor's orders?" he said with round ears perked.

“Doctor's orders, now shoo!" Her laugh were like a bell in a summer breeze, warm and familiar that reminded him of better days.

Yes, better days would certainly come, he told himself. What was a little rain for the sunshine to come?

Jorek would certainly find out, of that he were sure.

Azuka's voice drifted up behind him. “Oh and Jorek, one more thing? Stop wearing your pretty undewear daily, thank you—we do have an dress code here."

Jorek stopped only the moment it took him to slowly grin wide at her over a shoulder, teeth on display posetively cartoonishly.

“Oh don't bet on it, darlin'—I simply love to terrorize you saints with it... and the pictures are just too good!"