FSE

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A blue Sedan, a bit past its prime but still in good working condition, turns into the complex's parking lot. With a click of a claw, the engine's roar dies. He grabs his bag and loosens his red silk tie. "Day's finally done," he announces to himself. He can't help but sway his tail from side-to-side as he bounces on his pads towards his apartment complex's front door.

It had been a long day at work. There were too many people bickering over who gets what in this divorce, or "my whiskers were scalded on a hot coffee cup", or "my pup of an idiot neighbor won't keep his paws off of my clearly marked lawn". The only liable case that presented itself went straight to the figurehead of his firm. Teran constantly found himself stuck dealing with cats and dogs who didn't have two cents of logic--or money for that matter--that wanted to escalate their arguments to a legal level in order to give themselves an excuse for acting like their namesakes. It would be a wonder why he didn't return to his safe haven with a spring in his step.

"Home is where the heart is," and it could be seen on Teran's grinning face. Nothing was going to dampen his spirit.

A quick peek at his mailbox in the lobby reminded him of the tenants meeting next Friday. Every lodger of the apartment complex was bound to see the notice at least 4 times before getting up to his or her front door. The message was on the corkboard next to his mailbox and on the walls of the stair landings between each floor. Plus, the red-brown squirrel that was "given" the title of President of the Tenants Board was going around passing out the exact same flyer. It was autumn, and the energetic squirrel was dashing about to get things in order, as if reacting on instinct to the changing climate.

Teran thrust himself up the first flight of steps in lieu of using the elevator. 'Gotta stay active,' he thought. A sensible line of thought, though not completely necessary for the trim, Simien Fox. At the top of the first flight, his sly nature and silver tongue kicked in at the sight of Mrs. Thornapple, the elderly mole living below him. "Good evening, Marvelous Marian."

"Oh, Teran," giggled the mole with a limp in her wrist. Her age was apparent in the lines on her face. Her wisdom and gentle nature kept her demure and sensible, an indelible and endearing mark from her years of being a mother. "You spoil me, you do," she says with a blush.

"Come now, Marian, don't be so modest."

"Oh, I'm way past my prime."

"You'd fool anyone with that face," said Teran with a smirk. Marian Thornapple couldn't help but giggle. Teran liked to make the women close to him feel special. He went a step further by adding, "Why you remind me of Elizabeth Tabby from 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof', always having a quiet smolder behind your eyes."

"Well, I'm no Elizabeth Tabby, but I have gotten my share of playful growls back in the day."

"You must have been quite a looker." The smile was still painted on his muzzle. He leaned toward the compact mole and gave her nose a gentle tap with his claw.

"You foxes," she muttered with a grin. Marian appreciated the attention that Teran gave her. His playful banter made her feel young and desirable, although she was well aware of her station in life. It was all in good fun. "So you've brought out the classic references. You must be feeling better today."

There was a quick look of shock across Teran's muzzle, but it disappeared with a coy, "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Teran," she said bluntly, "I do live right below you." She glazed her next sentence with a warm curl of her lips, "I may be old, but my hearing is still sharp."

'Oh Marian,' he thought. 'Still the mother-hen as usual.' Teran said, "Well, I'm just happy to be out of the office."

"Rough day?"

"Same old, same old," he replied. "Critters not using their brains and thinking they have a legal right for stupidity." He knew that statement was harsh, but after listening to complaints all day, one might need to vent out a nagging insult or two.

Marian had heard some of Teran's obscure, horror stories before. She understood his need to say it out loud. "Well, many critters don't know any better. They have to learn sometime."

"You're right," he said with a slight sigh. "I just wish that all of them wouldn't end up in front of my desk."

"Just treat everybody with respect. I'm sure they'll eventually see what a bright young man you are."

"I certainly hope everyone in the building shares your positive attitude, Mrs. Thornapple," commented a high squeaking voice from the stairs.

"Good evening, Chip," chimed Marian.

The small Red Squirrel, with the title of President of the Tenant's Board, bounced down to greet his fellow tenants. "Hello, Mrs. Thornapple. Good evening, Mr. Canis."

Teran politely responded, "Hello, Chip."

"I'm glad I ran into you."

"I'm sure you are." Teran had been trying to avoid him for a few days now.

"You're aware then of some of the complaints I've been receiving?"

"The only one who's complaining is that old codger of a hare in 3B," Teran responded with a slight hiss.

"Yes, Teran. I understand. I'm just asking for you to keep the noise down a bit at night. Mr. Haymer's a very sensitive sleeper."

"Please," interjected Marian. "That old hare needs to add a sleeping pill to his regimen." A grin was on her face as she continued, "My hearing is just as sensitive, and I sleep through the night just fine."

Teran turned toward Marian and smiled. He flicked his tail in appreciation toward the understanding mole. "Alright," he said to the squirrel. "Tell Mr. Haymer that I'll turn it down, but he's not going to deny my right to listen to what I want to at night."

Chip turned his palms out, arms crooked while holding a stack of flyers. "I completely understand. I'll pass that on." The President of the Tenant's Board was glad to see that this was an easier situation than most. He had other matters on his mind. "You two are going to be attending next Friday, right?"

Teran snickered, "Did we have a choice?" That got him a gentle back of the paw from the mole behind him.

"Be nice," Marian gently rebuked.

"Yes, Mom." A smile broke across his muzzle.

Marian shook her head. Sarcastic affection--a definite fox quality. Something she learned after being his neighbor for a year. "I'll be there, Chip," she responded to the squirrel.

"I'll try to get there," Teran added.

"Good," said the squirrel. "Well, I've got other flyers to pass out," he said excusing himself. "You two have a good night."

"You too," Teran called out.

Marian kept her focus on the fox. "He is right, dear, about the noise," she said with a calm expression on her face.

Teran turned back to the mole. He put his empty arm behind his head, "Yeah. Sorry. I didn't realize I was bothering you, too."

"Don't worry, dear. I really don't mind."

Teran relaxed. "Thanks, Marian."

"If you ever want to talk--"

"Thanks," he interrupted, "but I'll be fine."

Marian nodded. "Alright. But know that talking about it will help."

The smile naturally fell on his face again. He came close to the mole and pecked her cheek. "Thanks, 'Maggie.'"

"Again with Elizabeth Tabby?" she said blushing.

"Can't help myself," he said with a toothy grin. He turned toward the next flight of stairs, "I'll see you later, Marian." Marian opened her apartment door with a good-bye as Teran returned to his ascent, his tail swaying.

He fished the keys out of his pocket as he came to the door marked "2B". The smile and warmth remained on his face as he put the metal into the doorknob and turned it to the left.

The door to his apartment swung open, and he saw the female arctic fox standing outside the kitchen adjacent to the entrance hallway. She was of medium height, softly curved at the hips from all angles, and balanced at the upper-half. She was wearing a faded dark orange blouse that frilled at the sleeves and had a small keyhole. A medium-length, brown skirt gave her fluffy white tail freedom to dance about, mesmerizing all with the black-tip it was adorned with. The orange complimented the golden color emanating from her brown eyes that were filled with music and held a mystery. It was something that constantly teased Teran, and he enjoyed it to no end. "Hey, Handsome," she said. It's good to see you home." She slipped into the kitchen, enticing him with her tail. Her head poked back out. "You gonna come in or just stand in the doorway?" She giggled.

The image from his memory faded into the dim, empty expanse of his apartment. He sighed, dropped his bag at the door, and walked past the table that carried moments of happier times: the two pressed cheek-to-cheek in a frame; Teran stealing a kiss from the arctic fox who was still looking at the camera; then the two, lips locked, in each other's arms. Teran backed up to look at the final one. His muzzle gently curved upward as he thought back to that lazy Saturday he shared with her. He glanced at the second photo and picked up the first one with the two of them cheek-to-cheek. He stroked a finger across the face of the arctic fox.

"Brooding over old memories?" It was her voice in all of its smooth, alto-y glory. He turned his head, almost expecting to see her again, though he knew better. He couldn't help but feel her clutching his paw, pulling him towards the bedroom they shared, a coy smile spreading across her muzzle. "Why don't we go make some new ones?" she would have said.

Teran dragged himself across the gorge that was his apartment toward the open bedroom door, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. The shirt sailed towards the unmade bed and stopped just shy, landing on the floor. "You just going to leave that there?'' she said in his head.

The memory flooded his mind:

"Heh, why don't you pick it up?"

_ "You'd like me to, wouldn't you?" she says with a sly smile. She stoops down keeping her tail in the air. A chuckle comes from Teran. "Like what you see?" she asks._

_ "It's hilarious."_

_ She snaps up. "How is it funny?" she demands._

_ "You, thinking you're sexy with that blemished tail." Teran starts to laugh. "It looks like you dipped it in a bottle of ink."_

_ "Well, let's see you get this tail anymore," she says with a huff. She starts to head out of the bedroom._

_ "Oh, please. I've seen this before."_

_ She stares over her shoulder at him. "You just don't get it do you?" She slams the door behind her._

_ A gnawing fear eats away at Teran's playful demeanor, "Oh, come on...Come back." He goes after her. She's picking up her bag and throwing her coat over her shoulder. "It was just a joke," he explains._

_ "Yeah, right. You're a really funny guy, Teran," she drones._

_ His ears pin to the side of his head, "You know that I do that. You know I don't mean it."_

_ She gets into his face, and his tail stands up straight. "That's the problem, Teran," she protests. "You just assume that I pick up on all of these jokes, and you expect me to just sluff them all off and giggle." She heads for the door. "You'd think for a lawyer, you'd have a better grasp on the power of words and know how and when to use them. Call me when you're done being a clown." She opens the door to the stairwell and heads out._

_ Teran watches her go, a little dumbfounded. "Damn it," he mutters to himself. "What's going on? Is she really that upset over a joke?" He sits down at the couch that divides the dining area and the entertainment area and curls his tail up besides him, head in his paws. He considers the arctic fox's statement and comes to the conclusion, "I didn't realize that she was sensitive about her tail." He considers his job. Many people came through with one quibble that let loose a whole can of problems that had been buried. "What else have I done to set her off?"_

_ "Boy, when sulk, it's really depressing to look at." Teran turns his face to see the arctic fox leaning over his shoulder, a smile on her face._

_ "Why...You~"_

_ The fox over his shoulder breaks out in laughter, "I was only kidding you. Geez, you really do take things a little too seriously don't you?" She continues to laugh. She yelps as she's suddenly pulled over the couch and on to the Simian fox. _

_ The two foxes' lips lovingly met. "Mmm, I'm just glad you're still here," Teran says._

_ She smiles. "Mmm. Yes, I can tell," she says taking his paw. "Let's see what we can do about that." He pulls her into him and growls as they kiss, this time with more force. She starts to pull off her shirt as they move back to the bedroom. Teran holds the arctic fox close as they fall on the bed, lips locked the entire time._

Teran returned to reality heaving a sigh and feeling tighter in his pants. Sex wasn't just fun but deeply intimate between the two. Teran would feel himself become one with her as they'd curl their tails around each other, locked in each other's arms. The smile that would brighten her face told him that she felt the same. Now only half of his heart remained in the room. The other half he hadn't heard from for two long weeks.

He threw on a T-shirt and decided to answer the growling in his stomach. Hopefully he still had a frozen dinner he could heat up. If he not, he'd have to go out and then come back to see her appear and disappear again. That was the hardest part. He always seemed to fool himself into thinking that she'd still be there when he opened the door.

He released a breath as he opened and freezer and found two frozen dinners still inside. 'Don't really feel like cooking anyway,' he thought.

"You never really were much of a cook," said the alto in his head.

"That's something I'll need to fix," he commented out loud as he placed the packaged meal into the microwave. It was going to be about five minutes.

He saw the dishes piling in the sink. Another activity they shared.

"I'll wash and you dry," she says to him, standing over the sink.

_ "Sounds good," Teran replies. He has a dishwasher, but using it ends up costing more than doing manually. Their water was too hard as well and left spots on the glassware. Besides, he enjoyed watching her lean over and scrub the remains of their latest experiment. They had worked together to make lasagna. The result wasn't as bad as either had anticipated. She had better culinary instincts than he._

_ She hands him one of the plates, dripping wet with a spot or two left on it. She makes him strong-arm those away; nothing he can't handle. Drying allows him the time to take in her lithe, curved form. He watches her slender arms move in circles, wiping away the remaining chunks of tomato and beef. The water travels down her forearms, gently dripping off her pointed elbows. His eyes wander back up to her shoulder and to her small face, muzzle tightly funneling to her round black nose. Her head turns, and her brown eyes shimmer in the fluorescent light._

_ "What are you staring at?" she asks._

_ "You, of course."_

_ She turns her head back toward the sink, a smile curls across her muzzle. "If you have time to stare at me, you have time to be drying the plates."_

_ "Oh, really?" he says while covertly wiping some of the sauce from the pan on to his finger. "Will do ma'am."_

_ She turns on him, "You know I don't like being called..." she stops as he put the sauce on to her nose, frozen by the sudden action._

_ Teran moves in and licks her nose clean. She giggled, a content noise rolling in the back of her throat. Their eyes lock. The vibrant green of his irises reveal his intentions, which were fulfilled in a meeting of their muzzles. They open up to each other, as their tongues start to cross. The vixen reaches into the water and quickly pulls her paw up, splashing Teran in the face. Teran's ears lower while his face drips, and the arctic fox laughs at her stunned boyfriend._

_ "You think that's funny don't you?" he asks. Her only replies come in the form of spasms from her diaphragm. "Two can play this game," he says with a grin. He pulls out the hose attachment on the sink and turns the faucet on._

_ She stops. "You wouldn't dare."_

_ "Why wouldn't I?" He squeezes the trigger, and she yelps at the contact of cold water. She's spurred to action and tosses the water from the sink at Teran. He returns fire by spraying down her face. She recoils for a moment then continues her assault with more vigor. Teran kept a constant stream going in the face of the stormy siege from the sink. Both ended up soaked to the bone._

The microwave beeped, signaling that Teran's meal was ready. The joy of that apartment was sizzling away, much like his hot meal. It was slowly dissipating into the ether of the past, leaving only the ghosts that haunted Teran's mind. He grabbed the packaged meal from the microwave with his bare paws; ignoring the heat searing into his pads.

His meal is transferred to a plate, and he sits at the table in silence, an empty chair next to him. It was where she sat. This was where she showed her brilliance and understanding. He shared as much as he could about his day, his frustrations, his true desires. She would pay attention and be so frank with advice. She would make his complications and problems seem so simple. He'd listen to her expound on her work, how her family was doing, and her dreams. They shared their lives at that table.

He eyes the chair. He can almost see her sitting there, staring intently at him, her head resting on the back of her paw. He almost started to talk to the apparition out of habit. He forked another bite of steak into his mouth to stop his lips from forming the words.

He couldn't stop his mind from wandering into two weeks ago though. He growled at the hint of the memory and pushed it away. It didn't matter anymore. There was no reason to dwell on it because she was never going to come back. He had already been foolish enough that night. He had stared at the door and waited--like an eager and expecting puppy--for her to come back in the door. "There's no point in waiting," he muttered out loud.

He padded to the kitchen and grabbed a small circular glass and the bottle of scotch. His paws carried him back to the first photo on the table near the front door. He needed her to see what her smiling face had left behind.

Teran clicked a remote sitting at the couch. The MP3 player connected to the speakers came to life. "Gotta keep the old hare upstairs happy," he said turning the volume down.

Luther Vandrone's version of the Burt Barkarach classic expanded into the room while Teran poured the scotch. He took a swig, grimacing at the burn in his throat. The medium-grade scotch helped take the edge off. He savored it more as the melody rose and fell without breaking, mirroring the moan he wished he could make. Another elegy started as the glass was filled again.

She had reduced him to this shell. He wanted to show her up and make her regret leaving by standing tall and proud as he'd strut right past her, without even glancing. It would be as if he said, "Who needs you, bitch?" He still wanted her. No amount of scotch was able to erase that fact. He needed her. Another Barkarach, another scotch.

"Can't beat a classic can ya?" says an alto from behind.

"Heh, I'm not that drunk yet," Teran mutters.

"Hmm, you're quite a cynic when you drink."

"Not something you got to see too much. Besides, you said that you wouldn't come back," sneers Teran, not looking behind him.

A rustle of the couch's fabric. "I did say that," she quietly resigns.

The somber song fills the silence. Teran desperately resists the urge to look behind him. Another sip of scotch. "So why are you here?"

A pause. "I don't know."

More silence. He bubbles with agitation. "Did you only come here to torture me? Or tease me as usual?" he growls.

"Teran,"

"Get out," he says flatly.

The song stops. A portrait of two people close to each other with their backs turned.

The silence is broken by a rustle of fabric and the scuffs of pads on the floor. "Wait!" Teran calls. The scuffs stop. "Please don't leave. Not yet. I didn't mean what I said."

Movements back towards the couch. "A good lawyer shouldn't be double-minded."

"I know," Teran replies.

"I came because of Marian."

"Heh, that mole," he says with a huff. He puts the glass to his lips.

"Be nice. She's worried about you."

"I know. I'll be sure to thank her."

A beat. "I-I'm worried, too."

"Really? If you were so worried about me being on my own, then why'd you leave?"

"You know what happened."

"Actually, I don't. Please, refresh my memory." Silence. Sarcasm pours out of his mouth, "Hmm, an interesting story."

A grunt from behind. "Let me be honest," Teran begins. "It was a mistake. That's all it was."

"All actions have consequences," says the alto.

"Yes, and two weeks later, I'm still paying the tab for something I didn't do." A stifled whimper becomes a growl. "You think you're doing me a favor. Well look at me. Does it look like I'm better for it?" His voice softens, "I come back to this...place every night. I fool myself into thinking you'll be here. It's what makes this--this...area livable."

"This is your home."

"No! It's not!" he barks. His head hangs low. "This is no home. A home is a place where one should feel at peace, should flourish, should be able to live. All this place is is where some chairs, a bed, and some furniture is stored. No one lives here anymore. Dragging yourself through memories every day is not living."

"Teran."

"I want to go home, but I can't...You are my home."

The voice beside the Simian fox sobs.

Teran turns his head. The arctic fox is there beside him. The pale light from the night sky bounces off the wet trail on her face. "You're here...Oh god, you're actually here," he muttered. He clutched her to him. Her warmth was real. He actually felt the fur of her shoulders along his pads. The sobbing he heard wasn't in his head. "Amie," he whispered.

"Yes?" she whimpered.

"Amie, please come..."

"Yes!" she interrupts. Their lips met. The broken hearts lined up. The breath passed between the two foxes sewed the halves together. The life giving blood and warmth of the heart pulsed through them. Teran was alive once more.

The warmth disappeared. The apartment was empty and quiet. Teran's head snapped back and forward. The 1 liter scotch bottle is half empty. "I guess I am drunk," he loosely resigned. He slouched back again. Emptiness and Loneliness were the true tenants of this place. The clock beneath the MP3 player read "12:03AM." Teran had to get up for work at 6:05AM. "I hope it'll wear off with some sleep."

He pushed himself up and dragged himself to the bedroom. He discarded his clothes and crawled into the sheets. Her smell still lingered in the sheets and the pillow. He slept on the right side; otherwise, he couldn't sleep. The left side was for her. He turned over and brushed his left paw over her pillow. The cool breeze of winter, her scent, entered his nostrils. "I got to kiss you this time," he whispered. A tear finally escaped his eyes. He hugged his pillow with his right because there's nothing else to hold on to. He whimpered while his left arm lingered on the other side of the bed. Teran's eyes closed.

The phone in Teran's apartment rings. It rings again. Teran's weary head has finally settled and won't be stirred. The backlight of the caller ID read "Amie." The machine answered in Teran's voice, "Hi, you've reached Teran Canis. Sorry, I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a name and message, and I'll get back to you when I feel like it...Just kidding. I'll call ya back." A beep. The line drops.