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Oh no! Chero's having rotten luck. One interest straight, the other one crazy! Can alcohol really solve all problems?

** Disclaimer**

This story is intended for entertainment purposes only. The subject matter covered in this piece is for mature audiences. Enjoy!

***

After midnight, Dante brought Chero to a dilapidated dormitory in the center of the city with music that made the windows rattle and the wooden walls heave at the heaviest beats.

"Don't tell me this is the place." Chero sniffed the air. "It smells awful."

"University students live where they can afford," Dante defended. "Plus the Liqui_d [1] is cheap!"_

Chero was ready to run at the sight of scattered hygiene towels on the lawn, but Dante whooped and hollered right into the building. Alone and in the middle of nowhere he knew, Chero followed for the sake of famliarity. Solitude was not an option tonight.

The mouse bumped into bodies of tobacco, sweat and stomach-churning musk (didn't these males bathe?!) Music in a popular time signature with the strobe light in the corner controlled the rythym of laughter and punctuated noises that passed for conversation. The cacophony was deafening.

Dante introduced Chero to strangers he had no interest in. Names were impossible to find in the loud music and the blinding flashes of light washed out Chero's vision to gray blindness. There was nothing to do but become lost in the shapeless nothingness of bodies and not to think anymore.

What an unexpected pleasure: there was so much stimuli, he couldn't think. If he couldn't think, he couldn't remember. And if he couldn't remember, he couldn't hurt. So he embraced the senselessness of the sound and just existed in the crowd. What a good way to spend an evening.

An hour went by and all Chero had to do was watch older youth (but not fully adults) do the most mundane things possible. Males told dirty jokes and females encouraged and snapped their teeth at them for their efforts. Hygiene towels were scattered everywhere. Cans of beer and other drinks were littered over the floors and smeared his fur in alcohol and sugar.

He found Dante in the back with people who must have been his friends. They were laughing and had several glasses of clear liquid between them that were being emptied at the pace of their conversation. A brawny cougar and a lean boar punched him heartily as their eyes became heavier and their laughs became louder.

How did Chero ever find the panther handsome? He was loud, boorish and his fur was disheveled and matted with sweat. His claws were dull and he might have had dandruff, ugh!

When the music volume came down, Chero was disappointed. No one had talked to him and no one seemed to have noticed him all the time he was there, but he wanted it all the same. He heard friends mumbled their goodbyes and students sobered up quick knowing that classes and term projects due only hours off. Most of the party-goers left like a motley cavalry on the way to a battle.

Without warning, Dante nearly toppled him with a hearty smack to the back.

"Good party! Where were you?! We needed a fourth and Bosco left for class, the icksat [2]."

The mouse was humorless and direct. "Give me your keys," he said with his paw fully extended.

"Why? You can't drive my car, what, are you crazy? She's my baby!" Dante laughed.

"You're drunk and I want to go home, bolli-fortune teller. Now."

The panther laughed less and waved Chero away. "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm alright! Just give me a few minutes and I'm good to go! Ugh, I gotta sit down..."

He laughed and threw his head back as he landed on a couch. The mouse shuddered at the wet squishing noise that followed.

The mouse clenched his fists as the minutes passed and the dormitory became empty. The smell was awful and there was nothing for Chero to fill his growling stomach. He retched at a waste bucket of blood and bones in a corner with the contents spilled into the carpet.

By the time Chero's patience expired, Dante was lightly snoring on the couch. Moving through Dante's pockets, Chero found a greasy set of car keys with a school insignia tag on the end of the chain. Guessing there was no chance of waking the driver up, Chero decided on the practical course.

To the outside observer, the mouse was athletic and compact, but only half the weight of the bulky panther. His back muscles were developed like a gymnast and his paw tendons may have seemed more pronounced than expected for a mouse, but these were not obvious indicators of what Chero could do when there was an incentive. With a sharp inhalation and a bend at the knees, Chero threw the sleeping panther over his shoulder and stood upright.

Wobbling under the bulk, Chero gained his stride and manuevered Dante out of the house and toward the parking lot. Opening the door with one paw was the easy part; the trick was to throw the panther up high enough, turn him around, and catch him without injury. Chero grunted with the effort, but kept his partial squat in perfect form.

"You need to go on a diet..." the mouse groaned.

Cradling the head, he placed the panther in the car. It took determined breath control to conserve energy while fastening the panther into the seat. The panther burped slightly and Chero winced at the smell.

Then Dante smiled in his sleep and half-opened his eyes. "You look really cute..." he purred. "You smell nice...real nice..."

Chero didn't answer. His ears became hot against his will and a tremor went through his paws. He took another sharp inhalation and his control was restored. There. All fastened.

Chero leaned back against the car and breathed. That was much more effort than he thought it would take. He needed to start exercising again. Immediately, he decided.

He came around to the other side of the vehicle and squeaked in disgust at the grease on his paw from the door handle. He wiped his paw on the grass by the road and shuddered at the grime inside.

Manual transmission, ancient vehicle model that barely passed environmental laws, and knickknacks nailed, taped and glued to every surface of the dashboard were what Chero had to drive. Bottles and wrappers were sprinkled all over the floor and the backseat had worn out boxes stacked with no obvious order. The seats were the wrong dimensions, the mirrors were smudged and the gap for Chero's tail cut off circulation. He desperately wanted a bath.

There was hardly any traffic, but Chero didn't know the roads. The car had no GPS unit and his telephone was not advanced enough to help. However, the streets were filled with people.

The Bats were out in full force with parents were bringing their children to school and young adults with university sashes and vests were waiting for the evening buses. There were even Possums sluggishly following their flying counterparts. Rats in engineering uniforms were loading into trolleys and Cats of all breeds and colors exchanged on buses for new shifts at the power generating plants or the cultivation arenas[3] depending on their uniform.

The three people he stopped were surprised to see a white mouse awake and in their neighborhoods. None of them knew where the hotel Felicity was, though they pointed him in the general direction of the Carribean Sky Lane, part of the jeweler's district. It wasn't until Chero found a Lizard [4] carrying her shopping cart did he get a direct answer. He thanked her twice and found his way back.

Back at the hotel, Chero had to lift the panther again. The porters and gatekeepers woke from their sleep-deprived sentinels and reluctantly admitted their guest back in. They offered to help him, but Chero refused them the privelege of earning more information about a guest the hotel would normally turn away with the threat of police.

Opening the door with a wheeze, Chero scuttled in and put the panther onto a couch. He cradled the head and adjusted it on a cushion so the panther's airway was clear. He opened the top buttons of his silk shirt and made sure his circulation was not cut off by a belt.

There was ugliness all over Chero's fur. He had to kill it.

He lashed it off with hot water and soap with practiced speed. Circles along the arms, straight cuts along the legs and short scrapes along the tail and face. This was happy murder.

Dante needed the same purification. With a bucket and a sponge, Chero applied his tricks to the grease and grime all over the feline. In barely a few strokes, the water had turned dingy gray with pieces of fur and drops of grease After several more attempts, Chero threw the sponge into the bucket and cleaned himself again. The panther could sleep in his own filth.

Crashing into bed, the mouse stared at the ceiling with exhaustion and sleep came almost instantly.

****

There was a stirring against Chero's body that woke him with a jerk.

He did not know where he was or why he was there. His first thought was to check for a clock, and instead he found a sleeping body against him.

The panther purred on his shoulder with a slight smile in his sleep. His arm draped over Chero's hip and genitals with the other supporting his head. What had seemed to be a fat belly was actually just soft. His genitals had seemed nothing extraordinary, but they were healthy with the same shade of pink in the sheath as his gum line.

Chero's face burned at how urgent his erection emerged and became trapped under Dante's arm.

He pulled himself away and bathed again in the dark. Everywhere that he had been touched he scrubbed even harder until the skin was as soft as a newborn.

He slipped back into bed and on the far end. There was more than enough room for both of them without physical contact and Chero hoped that the feline did not toss. The mouse wrapped himself tightly and tucked his tail into his paw.

Shadows came in familiar shapes at the corners of his vision. He shut his eyes, but he could feel the cold presence of phantoms near him like the pressure of wind. They could be felt, but they could not hold him. He could not sleep until an unexpected sensation happened.

The smell of musk and grease that had been so foul earlier had become mild. It was organic and natural in a room otherwise sterilized for a thousand other visitors. Now the space had become personal. However small the change, the scent was the only reason Chero slept at all.

****

Water was running in the bath. The mouse grimaced at the sharp sunlight that cut at his eyes. He tossed and flailed as hazy dreams and halos of the room dissolved and the waking world came back into focus.

The mouse sat upright and kept the covers close to him. No one else was in the bed, but there were a set of keys on the nightstand he did not recognize.

Mewl! How loud and content the sound came out of the baths as the water stopped. Dante sauntered out of the bath still dripping on the carpet. His wet fur flattened to show an average body with and a tail that was comically thin until it was dry.

Very quiet and very inconspicuous, Chero exited the bed and went to prepare tea at the kitchen stand. White tea with mint would be nice. A decent brand was available, Chero was glad for that.

Minutes passed with the sound of the towel drying fur, the light bright clinks of ceramic mugs and a whistle of a boiler pot.

Dante threw his towel casually on the floor and walked right next to the mouse. "Yana-sal, what happened last night?"

Chero took a sip of the first brew and puckered his lips with disgust. He swallowed with effort and shook his head to get the horrible taste out of his mouth.

"Hey, you speak don't you?" Dante came too close for casual acquaintances. "What happened? Where's my car? You drove it, I know you did, did I tell you to drive my car?"

Chero laced his fingers around his cup and raised his head with perfect manner. Even though Dante stood a head taller than him, Chero looked at him as if he were a child -a naughty one.

"You were very drunk and alone," he said. "A good companion cares for his company."

The panther laughed and the mouse gripped his cup tighter.

"Oh yeah, you took care of me alright. You took me right to your bed. How else did you try to take care of me, eh? I smelled you on my fingers."

Chero did not lose his gaze or betray any emotion he did not want displayed. He had years of practice. "You flatter yourself," Chero said. "I have better taste."

"Oh yeah. You were ready to pick a real winner last night. How's that for good taste?"

Chero did not lose his gaze. What was happening on the inside, he would not show it on the outside.

"Believe whatever you want, I don't care," Chero said. "You may leave now. I don't need you anymore."

There was no variation from the soft, disarming undulation of his perfect speech, but the effect was profound.

"Hey, yana-sala, I was just joking. I just don't like people messing with my things. Thank you yana-san."

Chero did not betray any emotion. With an unreadable face and the casual manner of draining the rest of his tea down the sink, the panther was unnerved. "There's fresh coffee. Take it bolli-san," he ordered.

The panther looked cautiously between the mouse and the heating pot on the boiler plate. Then Dante poured himself a cup, took a sip and winced. "This tastes like crap. My instant's better than this!"

Chero took the cup away from him and added more water to it. "It's a blend from the north bolli-san. It's more bitter, but richer in flavor. First timers have to water it down to get used to it. Try it now."

He passed the cup back and the panther took another sip. He nodded with his ears and his tail tucked down. "Better," he said. "Kind of sweet like this."

Now Chero unleashed intense charm. "Let's go for breakfast, bolli-fortune teller, you haven't eaten anything in hours."

The shock that Dante had was amusing. Now Chero moved with more ease around the room.

"I don't eat in the mornings, hurts my stomach" he muttered.

"It's past mid-day," Chero said brightly. "So you have no excuse. Finish up and come with me."

"I'm fine. I have food in the car. I can eat that."

Chero fetched his day cloak and fastened the buckles along his arms. "Don't be stubborn, bolli-san, it's rude to refuse the host," he said. "You're coming with me and that's that. I've made up my mind. And straighten your posture, you slouch."

The panther responded as a reflex, then looked surprised at where he was standing. "Yes yon-sa'," [5]

Dante was given the edict to find them the best place he knew for breakfast. He suggested the restaurant or even room service at the hotel, but Chero insisted it be something he enjoyed. The food at this high-end luxury hotel was too common.

Back down at the car, Chero made for the driver's side until Dante jingled the keys behind him. The mouse demured coyly with embarrassment and took the passenger's seat.

Daytime made the car a completely different expression of sweat, fuel vapors, smoke and dust. The mouse laid down a new sanitary towel on the seat and carefully balanced himself on it to avoid touching the dashboard.

The city in the daytime was draped in muggy gray haze. Immediate sweat appeared from exposure to the outside air, but there was not enough humidity to keep the yellow dust on the ground. Cars that had been sitting overnight were streaked with yellow from the trucks that sprayed water across the roads. Anyone walking the daytime moved sluggishly through the windless terrain.

In the west of the city, Dante chose an eatery that made Chero's skin crawl. Chromium, turquoise and candy red stripes lashed the outside of a box-car restaurant with cartoon depictions of the historically local peoples. How friendly and peaceful they all seemed on the exterior! How incredible that a substandard eating establishement could overcome centuries of hatred! What miracles this food promised!

The seats were laid with torn leather and exposed stuffing. The cutlery was stained with soap residue that Chero rubbed off with the over-starched napkins. When the server came, she recognized the panther and showed her appreciation for his patronage with a casual curve of her feline hips. For an ocelot, she was unneccessarily fat, Chero thought.

"Just the usual Sanik-chan," Dante said to her.

"And the extra peppers," shed added with a sharp dot to her pad. "Three hot, two medium and garlic and tobbasco. That still right?"

When Dante grinned at her she leaned in more closely than Chero thought a female would dare to in a public place. When she noticed Chero, her smile did not wane. "What can I get for you sani-chan?" [6]

Chero's cheeks turned red but his voice was level. "Eight eggs and a serving of fruit and the meal worms, raw please."

Dante guffawed at the server's shock. "Yes yana-san," she said. She scuffled off with quick, steps and her tail under her skirt. Service today would be fast.

Dante still chuckled over coffee as their food was laid down in front of them. "You should laugh, that was funny," he said. "Yani-chan..."

Chero's expression remained neutral and he did not answer. He focused on his food in front of him and ate small bites quickly.

"Oh come on, laugh a little. She didn't mean anything by it," Dante said. "White Mice never come here. She can't tell the difference."

"I can see that," Chero said without looking at him.

Dante downed the coffee and refilled himself. "Just lighten up. People here are friendly. Hey, if you'd played it up, she would have given you a free meal. She's sweet."

Their food came out with an extra helping of politeness. Chero gave the server reprieve for her efforts with a mild look of satisfaction.

Gorging his face, Dante was oblivious to Chero's open disgust at the blood drops on the table and the napkins smeared with gravy and syrup. Chero ate his food trying not to think about what other food stuffs may have been cooked in the pans with them.

With a relaxed sigh and a full belly, the cat lay back in his chair. "You can talk, I'm a good listener," the panther offered. "You look like you need to talk to someone."

With a delicate patting, Chero cleaned his mouth. "Where can I drop you off?"

"You mean where I drop you off."

This time Dante caught him off guard and Chero sneered. Damn it.

"You're a spoiled rich sal [7]

"You groped me last night," the panther whispered. "The least you can do is tell me. You're pretty bold to go after me when I'm off limits."

Again, Chero sneered. He was losing his composure and this was unacceptable. To his relief, the chopsticks he had been holding snapped under the sudden force of his clenched fist.

Dante's fascination intensified. "Come on. Give it up. You're only playing the courtier, but inside you want to curse me out. So do it."

Chero held his tea cup between both paws and looked inside it. Looking from side to side and lowering his head, he spoke so only the two of them could hear above the bustle of the other patrons.

"I'm looking for my parents," he said.

Trolleys went by and the diner rattled. The window shook and the plates jangled and new patrons whooped and hollered at the surprise, then laughed about what a novelty this place was.

When all the sound came back down, Dante nodded in understanding. Chero was speaking the truth. "How long you been looking?"

Chero took a slow sip of his tea, however awful it tasted.. "I just arrived last night," he said.

Stabbing another piece of meat, Dante swallowed it with triump. "So I was right! You're looking for your family, not to make one. Now it makes sense."

That was when Chero dropped the cup with a loud clatter. "Enough bolli-san. You were playing a game with pieces of wood. You don't have divine insight or even a standard sense of perspective, so stop pretending you do."

Dante's eagerness wasn't shaken at all. "But if I'm right, does that mean I can tell the future?"

With deliberate petulance Chero layered the plates and cutlery in solid stacks without making a sound. Dante laughed harder. "Hey, don't be mad! You're going to find them!"

When the stack was complete, the mouse crossed his arms and looked out the window. "And you call me a fool," he said. "If you have any ability at all, you will tell me this instant where they are. Otherwise you're a fraud."

Now the panther was excited. "Hey, that's more effort than you need. You have a family name don't you? Just do an internet search and you'll find them in no time. Everyone's connected these days."

Silence came and dragged on. The waitress glanced nervously at the mouse and left the check without speaking. He slapped a credit card on the table without looking at her. Knocking over a salt shaker with his tail, Dante immediately grabbed the salt and threw it over his shoulder.

"I thought you were intelligent," Chero said. "Didn't we move past superstitions when we learned to walk on two legs?" A spoon dropped by Chero's foot and his reaction was instant. "You're clumsy too with those big sausage racks you call paws. It's a miracle you have the coordination to walk in a straight line."

When Chero glanced up, he knew he shouldn't have. Every effort he had made to obfuscate reality failed at that moment. Dante knew.

"That's what the last card meant!" He slapped his fist to the table. "You can't find them because you don't remember them. You're, literally, a blank."

The mouse flattened his ears and covered his cheeks. It was too late now. He had exposed himself. "Is it custom here to be so obnoxiously familiar with acquaintances? Or is it just you, bolli-san?"

The trolleys outside rattled the windows and then came back to silence. Dante dug into his holster and a few coins jangled to the table, but Chero slapped his paw.

"Don't embarrass me further, you're my guest." Their gazes connected again and teeth threatened to show. "And stop looking at me like that. I'm not sorry for myself and you shouldn't be either."

The panther withdrew his gaze and looked aside. For the first time, he looked injured.

Chero ordered a second round of drinks for them. Dante took the coffee cup and sipped it with his head tucked down. Chero put down his cup and folded his paws on the table in front of him.

"I appreciate your company bolli-san and I want to be on better terms. You just seem oblivious to what is best not discussed over meals."

The panther looked back with a genuine concern. "So when can you ever talk about it? We eat all the time," he said. "I knew something about you was off. Your aura is bright and big, but it has holes in it."

"Enough with that nonsense, I didn't ask for a game," Chero said.

Thankfully Dante looked away. "So what's the plan, yana-san? You gonna hire a detective or something?"

For the first time that day, Chero was fully alert. He called the bolli-sen back and asked for a phone book. Then, right there at the table, Chero picked the first name he found on a page, tapped it twice, and then called for an appointment. In under 10 minutes, he had made a date.

"Wow yana-sal, you don't waste time."

Chero whipped his tail back and forth with an animated smile.

"Oh thank you bolli-san, that was very helpful! I lose my head sometimes."

"You had a lot to deal with," Dante said slowing his speech.

Chero forced his sincere gratitude to overpower an alarming increase of rage.

"Take me out again tonight bolli-san, please? I forgive you. I want us to be friends! You know how to have fun! Perhaps I'll like your acquaintances now that I've had some rest. I'm feeling like myself again."

Dante withdrew and eyed Chero warily. He leaned back just as the mouse crouched up and leaned forward to him. "Hey, you can go anywhere you want, what do you need me for, yana-sal? You're rich."

The mouse made a coy tilt of his head. "I like to travel with company bolli-san, I need an escort. I'll feed you and give you a place to sleep that doesn't smell like fuel vapors. Just for a day. Please? Pretty please with cherries on top?"

Chero's tail was raised fully in the air and he leaned in far too close over the table and too high up into the air.

"Alright! Alright!" Dante nearly shouted. "Stop doing that, it's creepy! Come on...back off..."

Chero returned to his chair in a slow, sensual display. With luxurious satisfaction, he raised his paw for the check and twisted in the seat as if it were made of velvet. "Thank you," he said breathily. "You've made me a very happy girl."

---

[1] Liquid -slang for alcoholic beverage. Also used for liquid recreational drugs.

[2] Icksat -slang, similar to "party-pooper", "wet blanket", "square"; generally a boring person.

[3] Cultivation Arena -general term for places where food is produced, either livestock or agriculture. These arenas are often large and overlap in production.

[4] Lizards and other reptile Species are very rare to see, even in a metropolitan area.

[5] Yon-sa -formal honorific, meaning 'respected elder female'

[6] Sani-chan -form of endearment for a young female; similar phrase would be "sweetie." Akward to say this to a male however.

[7] "kid", "prince", referring to youth of upper economic classes.