From: Plonq Subject: Wheels within Wheels Date: September 13, 1998 2:14 AM I bought a cute otter plushie at the Nashville zoo earlier this week, and it inspired this little story. I composed it in my head on the long drive (27ish hours) home. A few tweaks here and there as I put it in the word processor, but essentially unchanged from the version I wrote in the car. Enjoy. Comments are welcome. Usual disclaimers apply. Etc. 8<----- snip and discard ----- Ack! The otter had gone too far this time. Plonq scurried through the gate and down the path beside his house, his tail thrashing in consternation. He paused at the door when he heard the sound of water running. Giblet was in the shower - again. His water consumption had tripled since the little otter had moved in. "Argh," he growled as he pushed the back door open and stomped into the kitchen. The snow leopard was in an abrasive mood, and it was probably just as well that Giblet was in the shower, as it gave the cat a few minutes to calm down. When he glanced around the kitchen and saw that the otter had done some extensive cleaning, it went a long way toward soothing his temper. He opened the cupboard to get a tumbler and noticed that the other morph had even arranged all of the drinking glasses. "I'm beginning to know how Felix Unger felt," he mewled, but he appreciated the otter's efforts. Plonq had been embarrassed by the state of the place when the other fur had initially taken up residence with him. The feline had been reluctant to allow the otter to move in, but he had been the mustelid's only resort after the fire. As much as Plonq enjoyed his privacy, he could not bring himself to turn away a friend in need. Besides, he had to grudgingly admit that the arrangement - albeit temporary - was working out well. It did not hurt that the otter had agreed that their time together under the same roof was to remain purely Platonic - an important consideration for the cat after recent events. He heard the water stop, followed by the sound of the other morph towelling himself dry in the bathroom. The snow leopard leaned against the counter for a few minutes to let him finish the process, then padded out into the hall. "Giblet," he called, through the half-open bathroom door, "What is that thing doing in the front window?" There was a moment's pause, as he heard the otter stop drying himself. "It's a spider plant," said Giblet from the other side of the door. "Don't you remember? I hung it there last week." "You know what I'm talking about," growled Plonq. "There's a sticker in the corner of the window." The otter poked his wet head around the corner of the door and blinked innocently at Plonq. "Oh, you mean my Fur Pride sticker?" His whiskers twitched before he answered. "They gave me a couple of those at the support meeting this morning. I've put one on my car as well." "But what's it doing in the window?" snapped Plonq. "I suppose it's telling the world that I'm proud of who I am," answered the other morph tartly. He stepped out into the hall, and continued rubbing his ears dry with the towel. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd mind." "Oh jeez - put something on!" yowled Plonq, hastily averting his gaze. The otter was clearly amused by his discomfort. "Why?" he giggled, "it's not like you haven't seen this before." "That's not the point," said the snow leopard coolly, "just because you live here for the moment doesn't mean you have license to cavort around the house naked." The otter did not wish to unduly annoy his host, but he could not help but tease the feline a bit more before he acquiesced to the other fur's wishes. Holding his towel by its corners, he tossed it around the cat's neck and pulled him closer. "What's a matter, Plonqie? Getting turned on by seeing me nekkid?" he asked huskily. "Giblet!" "Okay," he said, lifting the towel over the other fur's head. As he turned back toward the bathroom, he spied the other morph eyeing him askance. He gave his hips and slight twist, and flipped his tail seductively for good measure before he stepped out of sight. Plonq was relieved to hear the other morph pulling on clothing, though he knew that Giblet was only teasing him. Still, what would he do if the otter started getting ideas? "When did you become so prudish?" called the mustelid from the other room, "there is nothing wrong with being naked in your own home - and you DID tell me that this is my home until further notice." "Well, yes, but it's MY house..." said Plonq hesitantly, but the otter stepped out of the bathroom again - thankfully clothed this time - and interrupted him. "I'm just pulling your tail," he said quickly. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll keep myself covered while I'm here. Still, you act like a cat who's never yiffed with an otter." "Once," said the snow leopard primly, "and I was very drunk at the time or I would never have... hey! Those are my shorts you're wearing!" "Most of my clothes kinda got burnt up, you know," said Giblet. He looked down and hooked a thumb in the loose waist of the garment. "These ones are a little baggy, but we're the same height." He looked the feline in the eye and said, "Ah, Plonq, what a master of understatement you are. Perhaps it was only one occasion, but I would hardly call that once. In fact, I lost count after the third - say, did I ever tell you how much I admire your stamina?" "Giblet," snarled the other morph, "can we PLEASE talk about something else?" The cat turned away and stomped toward the living room, muttering under his breath. "If you like," agreed the otter, but in a softer voice he added, "we're going to have to talk about this sometime, though." Plonq paused on his way through the dining room as his eye caught sight of an empty bag on the table. "Say, what were you buying down at the Dollars & Scents?" he asked, in what Giblet recognised as an official changing of the subject. "Just some cologne," answered the otter quickly. "Oh," mewled Plonq. He picked up the plastic bag and folded it into a small square. "You don't wear cologne," he added pensively. "I used to, and I thought I would start again," said Giblet. He hastily snatched the bag out of the snow leopard's grip and bustled out toward the kitchen with it, silently berating himself on his sloppiness. It had been a close call - there would have been hell to pay if the cat had seen the receipt inside the bag. "I'll just put this in with the other bags," he called airily, as he removed the stub of paper and jammed it into his pocket with a sigh or relief. He wandered out to the living room and found the feline sprawled face down on the sofa, right arm and tail draped to the floor. "What a day," said Plonq, when he heard the otter enter the room. "I can't believe I let them talk me into going into work this morning." Giblet clucked sympathetically, and perched himself on the edge of the chesterfield. He reached out tentatively and began massaging the back of the fur's neck. When the cat did not resist, he redoubled his efforts and began to knead in earnest. "You're knotted up something awful," he said. "Why didn't you just tell them to get stuffed when they called?" "You know me," said Plonq, "I can't say 'no' when somebody calls with a problem." "Erf," agreed Giblet, who was a beneficiary of that aspect of the feline's nature. He continued to massage and knead the snow leopard's back until he felt the muscles begin to loosen. "You're very good at that," said Plonq, with a hint of purr. "Have you ever wondered if you're not in the wrong line of work?" "There's not much too it," said the otter modestly. He worked in silence for awhile longer before he broached the next subject. "Could you do me a small favour?" he asked shyly. "Probably," said Plonq. "What?" The mustelid hesitated again. "Urm," he said, "I am supposed to meet the insurance adjuster up at the house today," he explained. "I know that I am going to start crying again as soon as I see the place, and..." he swallowed. "Well, if you want to know the truth, I'd rather cry on your shoulder than his." Plonq turned his head, and looked at his friend. He reached back and gave the otter's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sure, I'll come along," he said gently. "When do you have to be there? Do I have time for a quick shower first? I feel like I need to wash off some of the bullshit I got buried in at the office today." "Of course you have time," said Giblet, almost swooning with relief. "I am supposed to meet him in about ninety minutes." "Well I had better get moving, then," said Plonq. He rolled over and sat up, stretching luxuriantly. "Thanks for the massage," he mewled, "I'll be ready to go in about half an hour - that way we'll have time to stop for coffee on the way there." As he watched his friend toddle out of the room, Giblet felt a small pang of guilt. In truth, he had passed the stage of crying over the loss of his home, but he thought he could manage the feat again for the feline's benefit. At the very least, it would be good for a few, tight, comforting hugs. He slunk off to his room to dig out the expensive little bottle of snow leopard pheromones he had purchased that morning. He put a little dab of the expensive liquid under each arm, humming happily to himself all the while. "Of course, I'll have to convince him that I really need a drink after we get home, and he'll naturally join me," he thought. Yes, he had promised the feline when he moved in that he would not try to start anything. If the other morph made the first move, though, then that changed the rules - didn't it? * Plonq