Zig Zag is Copyright © Max Black Rabbit. Sabrina, Darke Katt and R.C. are Copyright © Eric W. Schwartz. James Sheppard, Marvin Badger, Rhonda Badger, Yohni, Alexi, Michael, Esteban, Mia, Wanda Vixen and Tamara Rabbit are Copyright © James Bruner. Alex O'Whitt is © Tigermark. The B-Team is © Silver Coyote. Jean LeBrun, Gabrielle Ryder, Timothy Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Malcolm Grazer, Doctor Fox Jones, Peter Spermophilus, Miranda Spermophilus, Dina Spermophilus, Leo Leon, Miriam Redtail, Lizzy Doe, Emma Grey, Professor Moose Nicholson, Professor Erica Belge and Pethouse Magazine is © Joan Jacobsen, 2005. All other characters appearing in this story, except where otherwise specifically noted, are likewise © Joan Jacobsen.
Legal Notice: This story is Copyright © 2005 by Joan Jacobsen. This story may not be sold or used for commercial profit in any form or fashion. This story may not be modified in any way. This story may not be posted on a mirror site or any other Internet site without the written permission of the author. This story may not be distributed on print, magnetic, electrical or optical mediums.
Permission to use characters that are Copyright other individuals was obtained prior to the appearance of said characters.
The author, Joan Jacobsen, hereby asserts moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is an independent work of fiction with no connection whatsoever to Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions or James Bruner and is in no way meant to imply any connection with Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions, or James Bruner. This story contains characters created by Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, James Bruner, Tigermark and Silver Coyote. Events and characters occurring in this story should not be considered part of the storylines for either 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online' or 'Sabrina Online - The Story'.
In fact, as far as 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online', 'Sabrina Online - The Story' and 'Zig Zag the Story' are concerned, this story does not exist. The artists disavow any knowledge of and do not officially sanction the events in this story.er nodded. "I'm sure."
Jean stopped and started looking through a rack of tops. She didn't really like malls, but she needed to buy a lot of different things on the way home, and a mall was the best place to find all the necessary shops close together.
She had just spotted a top she wanted to take a closer look at. She took it off the rack and beheld it, trying to decide if it was something she liked or not. It looked a little different than her first impression had made her think. Deciding she did like it, she checked the price.
Then she didn't like it anymore. Not at all in fact.
She put it back on the rack and headed out of the shop. While she didn't like malls, and while her shopping-gene would never be as overdeveloped as that of Yohni, she did like mooching around for clothes and shoes once in a while. It was sufficiently mindless that she could do it without excessive brain-activity, and that was important to her from time to time.
Today was such a time.
It had been hectic, to put it mildly. Not only was Christmas rapidly approaching, but the deadline for term papers was coming up in a week. Jean only had one to deal with but considering that she was brand new at teaching, she considered that fortunate. There would no doubt be more papers after the holidays.
But that wasn't the main reason why Jean needed to take her mind off what had happened during the day. The main reason was that the newspapers had been by. Three of them, no less. To her great relief, they had all started by asking Mrs. Belge what her thoughts on the matter were. Then they had asked some of the students, both protesters and supporters. And finally, they had come to ask her what her story was. It had gone well. At least she felt it had gone well. Now all she could do was hope the papers wouldn't twist her story out of all proportion. She wasn't quite sure about one of the reporters, who had seemed scornful. The other two had seemed supportive of her right to teach.
The thought had occurred to Jean that the various newspapers catered to different groups of readers, and therefore the stories would be angled towards demographic target groups.
Even so, she had felt better after the reporters had left. They had pretty much asked the same things. It had been very...private, at times...and that was why she needed to get it out of her mind. She didn't particularly like being grilled about her sexual preferences, even if it was packed up nicely in finery and pleasantries.
Her answer had consistently been the same:
"I have no sexual interest whatsoever in any of the students. I am fortunate enough to live in a very happy and strictly monogamous relationship, and besides, I fail to see why my sexuality has any bearing on my ability to teach."
Especially that scornful reporter had seemed quite displeased with that answer. She had apparently wanted Jean to be some kind of weird...
No...she wasn't going to think the word.
She had no wish to. She had heard that word enough times from others.
Turning into a greengrocer's store, she picked up a small, yellow melon and turned it over in her paw. It seemed firm and ripe, and she held on to it. She found some grapes as well and picked up some salad and tomatoes as well.
She had almost all that she needed. Just one more stop, and she could go home.
###
"I think I'll take this place!" Emma exclaimed. She looked like someone had given her an early Christmas present. The apartment was small. Slightly smaller than her old one, but that clearly wasn't a problem with the mink. Besides, it was comfortable and cozy, with a beautiful view. It was one half of the top floor of a small villa. Perfect for her needs.
The landlady smiled and looked relieved. "Really? I'm happy to hear that," she said. She was an old dachshund, who supported herself on a cane. "I know the building isn't ideally placed and so on. Young furs nowadays seem to be so concerned with large, open rooms and placing."
Emma shook her head. "It's perfect! I work twenty minutes away, by foot, I don't like loud music and I certainly don't party until four AM, every weekend. This place is wonderful, and the view over the park is just amazing. I like this! When can I move in, Mrs. Tanner?"
"As quickly as you'd like, actually. It's been empty for nearly a month."
"Excellent. I'll get some friends together to help me get my things moved here as quickly as possible."
Mrs. Tanner smiled. "That's fine. Oh, and...by the way, Miss Grey, I read newspapers too. I recognize you from the papers, about that dreadful case down in Cincinnati? Just thought you should know...you don't need to worry. I was glad when they let you go. Males who beat up femmes are worthless!" she said, firmly. "You'll be safe here."
Hot and cold flashes raced down Emma's spine. She didn't realize she'd been recognized, but she turned and looked at the old femme with a grateful smile on her face. "Thank you, Mrs. Tanner. I really appreciate that."
"You're welcome. Tell me...where do you work, Miss Grey?"
"I just got a job as the archivist at the Ohio Historical Society," Emma explained and smiled. The mere thought of actually getting the job Jeremy had tried to prevent her from getting was nice.
Mrs. Tanner nodded. "That's good. Steady work is good for any fur. And history doesn't stop coming, that's for certain," she chuckled. "Come on, I'll make a cup of coffee while we finish up the paperwork."
Emma beamed and nodded. Getting her things moved in would be easy. Everything would be in order by the time Fox and Miriam came home. That was good. It had all come together so quickly, even if life had looked so grim for a long time. Maybe Lady Luck had finally decided to throw a bit of good fortune Emma's way.
Badly overdue, but better late than never, the mink told herself, and looked around the room one last time. She knew exactly where to put her desk and where to place the bookshelves and...
Yes.
This would be a good home.
###
"SILKE!!"
Gertrud Katze's voice boomed out through the office at the consulate and Lizzy, who had mostly been sitting in her own thoughts, was nearly knocked backwards out of her seat. She had come in late for work that day, since she had to stay for a late meeting. Emma knew about it, so it wasn't a problem.
The Consul's angry shout made her wonder what had gone wrong though. Gertrud Katze was the kind of boss that never seemed fazed by anything, nor did she ever seem to raise her voice for any reason. Her idea of disapproval was to look slightly disappointed.
The other furs at the office called it her 'Mommy-isn't-angry-face'.
Less than five seconds later, Silke was rushing through the room, carrying a stack of papers and at least two dozen CD-Rom's in a box. "Jawohl, Jawohl...ich komme, ich komme..." she huffed, looking rather worried.
A moment later a verbal explosion in German took place behind the Consul's door. Most of the furs in the office cringed. A few of them, those who understood enough German to pick up on what went on, blanched and hurried to their computer screens to check something.
Lizzy simply looked utterly confused.
"I'm going to have to take evening classes in this language," she muttered to herself. "Some help I am. I don't even understand the language."
She turned to the femme at the nearest desk.
"Ruth, what's going on?" she asked. The beaver was always a good source of information on what went on at the office.
Ruth sat up a little straighter, shaking her head slowly. "We've been hacked..." she said, sighing. "Silke will have some overtime because of this. Look at the homepage..."
Lizzy nodded and sat down by her computer again, opening the page. She was immediately met by a movie-clip loading. At least that wasn't supposed to be there. A moment later, it opened.
The doe felt her face fall. "Who the Hell did this?" she growled. A Swastika flag was fluttering on the screen with a movie of Hitler speaking at the Nuremberg rallies playing beneath it.
At the absolute bottom, a text banner waved.
'This site was hacked by C-Kitty!'
###
Leo sighed. He'd sighed a lot since yesterday's patrol. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with what had happened. Part of him kept telling him he'd been safe and that he shouldn't worry. Another part kept repeating that furs had been wounded. Some of them badly.
He hadn't heard from the English troops yet, on the status of Lieutenant Richardson. Leo was worried, though. He was sitting on the stairs to the barracks. His troops were relaxing. It was late evening and everyone had eaten their fill. A movie was running on the DVD-player. Probably another triple X-rated title.
"What's wrong, Sir? You look like you have too much on your mind," a voice said behind him.
Leo turned his head and looked at Corporal Mofeta. The skunk was smoking, looking like he was just enjoying the cool evening air.
"Yesterday's situation, Corporal. Nothing else."
"First time you had that kind of pressure on your shoulders, eh, Lieutenant?"
Leo nodded. "Yeah, but that's not the problem. I did what I had to do, and it doesn't bother me. Lives were at stake."
The corporal took a deep hit on his cigarette and sat down next to Leo with a chuckle. "I can tell you, I've never seen Sarge look the way he did yesterday. That creeping barrage was a smart move, Sir. I spoke to one of the lim...I mean one of the Englishfurs. He said it gave them something to retreat behind to get to the AFC. Very smart, sir...very smart."
"Thanks, Corporal. That was the general idea. I didn't think that AFC could get in there. But the explosions would keep the ambushers from sticking up their heads. Good shooting on your part too, back here. Creeping barrages are hard to do. Misfire by a few yards and you blow up your friends instead of your enemies," Leo said, thoughtfully.
Corporal Mofeta nodded and lit another cigarette with the butt of the one he was finishing. "Did you turn in the report on the action yet, Sir?"
Leo nodded. "Yeah, Captain Cervus wants to have a word with me tomorrow about it. Not sure if that's good or bad..."
A moment passed. Then the skunk held out his pack of cigarettes to Leo, offering him one. Somehow, the lion couldn't help feeling that he had just passed some kind of test. He was just about to tell the non-com that he didn't smoke. Instead, he chuckled.
"Death's got to have a reason," he mumbled and took a cigarette. "And if you laugh when I cough my lungs out, Corporal, you'll be on guard duty for a week straight!"
Corporal Mofeta smiled and shrugged. "I just figure that when you're sitting in the sphincter of the Earth, you might as well stink up the place a bit, since most likely, you'll be facing a pile of shit real fast anyway, Sir," he said and took another hit on his cigarette.
Leo coughed...both from the cigarette smoke and laughter. "I didn't know you were such a philosopher, Mofeta," he wheezed.
The skunk just kept smiling.
###
"Jean's and Esteban's place, Jean speaking," the vixen said as she picked up the telephone.
She sighed and shook her head. "Look, I've already said all there was to say, and no, I'm not interested in having my private life laid bare to the citizens of Columbus. Sorry, but the answer is still no!"
She hung up again. Esteban came up behind her and put his arms around her waist, kissing her hair. The gesture made Jean instantly relax. It always had that effect on her. She leaned her head back against Esteban's chest and smiled wearily.
"Steell those Televeeseeon furs, Chica?" the wolf asked and just held his vixen.
Jean nodded. "They seem to think it's everyone's dream to get on some talkshow to lay bare their innermost thoughts and feelings on primetime television," she said and sighed. "I don't mind talking to the newspapers. What's printed is printed. But I have no control over what will happen on direct television and besides, I wouldn't be able to walk the streets in peace afterwards."
"Si...eet'd probablee geeve you a sense of what eet's like to be a celebreetee, at least."
"And I never wanted to be a celebrity, as you know."
Esteban nodded and kissed Jean's hair again. "Why don't we go out tonight, Chica? See eef there's sometheeng worth watcheeng een the ceenema or sometheeng?"
"I think that sounds like a great idea, dear. I was thinking of asking if we shouldn't go and have a drink at 'Spirit'..."
"We can do both."
Jean was about to answer when the phone rang again. She sighed and picked up the receiver one more time, taking a deep breath.
"Look, I've said it once and I've said it a hundred times...I'm not interested!!" she burst out. Then she looked very strange and Esteban couldn't help laughing.
"What ees eet?" he asked. "Or who?"
Jean waved a paw at him to make him stay quiet before stammering. "No...no, I'm sorry, Zig Zag...it's just that I've gotten a dozen calls from a local television company since I got home. No, it wasn't aimed at you. Hey...hey stop teasing!"
At least the vixen was smiling towards the end of it. She listened to what the skunk had to say on the other end of the line, before chuckling.
"It would be a very bad idea if I proofread a script for you, Zig. With my current job. You know that. Yeah, I know you had to ask. But I'm sure you can find someo...erh...what do you mean that you're sure I can find someone??"
Esteban hid his face in his paws and laughed. He could only hear half the conversation but he was pretty sure he could guess the rest of it.
"Yeah...okay, but I won't do anything like that without talking to Mrs. Belge first. Yeah...she's my boss. NO, Zig Zag...she wouldn't be interested either!" Jean giggled. "Good grief...what's with you today? Yeah, you know, that's not a bad idea. When you get home, I'm sure I can convince Esteban to make fajitas for all of us, and you bring the wine. I have no problem being a wall you can bounce ideas off of. Yeah, I'll see you then. Take care and give James my best. Bye..."
She hung up and looked up at Esteban. The wolf wiped the smile off his face and tried to look serious.
"So...are we goeeng out?" he asked.
"We are!" Jean answered and took his paw, heading for the door.
###
Yohni opened the door while Gabrielle emptied the mailbox. They had both had a long day at work and getting back home seemed like a very good idea. Especially if it involved unplugging the phone and maybe watching a movie while relaxing.
"My feet are hurting, Gabby," Yohni muttered.
"My hooves aren't, but other bits of me certainly ache..." Gabrielle answered, idly looking through the pile of junk in the mailbox to find any real mail in there.
Yohni chuckled. "Well, you were in Sean's capable paws most of the afternoon..."
Gabrielle grinned crookedly. "For a newbie, he sure knows what he's doing," she pointed out and raised an eyebrow. "What an interesting advertisement. A penile enlargement clinic..."
Laughing out loud, Yohni nodded. "Oh yeah, like either of US need that. I didn't think that kind of thing got sent out in regular mail."
"Well, no one told this clinic yet, it seems," Gabrielle chuckled. "Heeey...there's a letter from Leo here. Wow...it's stamped at an Army Base in Afghanistan. It sure got here fast."
Yohni smiled and kicked off her shoes. "He must've gotten lucky. Maybe the post office sent back the bags that same day?"
"Must be. Still...look, it's been underway four days since it was stamped, that's all."
"Well, let's see what he's writing then?"
Gabrielle nodded and dumped the rest of the mail on a table. She headed into the kitchen and took a knife, cutting open the top of the envelope. Yohni went to the bedroom and undressed, before putting on one of Gabrielle's T-shirts. It was easily big enough to be worn as a short, rather baggy dress.
"To Hell with style. I need comfort," she mumbled. She was about to go back into the living room when a veritable explosion of laughter made her blink. She peeked out of the bedroom.
"What's up, Gabby?"
Gabrielle wiped her eyes and tried to stop laughing. Then she held out the letter to Yohni and smirked. "Oh, just a humble request from the armed forces..."
Yohni read it.
And laughed.
###
Waiting was almost unbearable. Emma had paced back and forth across Lizzy's living room so many times that she worried about wearing a hole in the carpet. She knew Lizzy would be home soon, unless something unexpected had come up at the consulate. That seemed to happen so regularly it could hardly be called 'unexpected' anymore. It was almost unexpected to get home on time.
She sighed. It was pointless pacing like that. She'd just get tired and cranky, and the one thing she didn't want, was for her mood to be spoiled before Lizzy got back home.
What else could she do? Turning on the television was a bad idea. It was full of war-news from Afghanistan and she didn't need to worry more about Leo's safety than she already did. She had already tried reading but it was difficult to keep herself focused. Maybe a bath would help...but her fur would still be damp when it was time to go to bed, then, and that meant waking up with her fur standing out at all kinds of odd angles.
Groaning, Emma clasped her paws in front of her face.
Lizzy's and Leo's apartment was large. Very large, in fact, and comfortable. It was probably the only really visible sign of Leo's background. The sheer size of it. There were plenty of rooms.
A moment of horrible curiosity came over Emma and she turned down the hallway, doors both on the left and right. She was heading for the staircase at the end of the hallway though. It led upstairs to the small studio where Leo worked on his art projects. She had never seen any of it. She'd never asked. For all she knew, Leo didn't mind showing his work to others.
Could she just go up there and take a look without asking? Wasn't that a terrible breach of trust?
She wanted to see what he was doing though. The point was...Leo studied art and he was very modest about it, normally.
The thought struck her that while Leo was a great guy, he wasn't modest by nature. Giving, certainly. A great friend and someone you could rely on in any and all situations, definitely. But not modest. Yet...when it came to his own creations, he'd get embarrassed and then he'd talk about something else.
"Curiosity is the main cause of death for kahts, Emma," she reminded herself as she climbed the stairs, slowly.
She smiled, reminding herself that she wasn't feline by any stretch of the word, then opened the door at the top of the stairs. The studio was dark. It wasn't a huge room, but large enough to hold quite a lot of unfinished work. Projects in the making. She could tell that even without lighting. She searched for a light switch and found it, flicking on the light.
Her eyes went wide almost instantly.
"Holy Mother of..." she began, barely whispering, entering the studio very slowly. There were paintings and drawings everywhere. Lizzy was clearly the most-used model in Leo's art. Hardly a surprise, Emma thought and shrugged. From what she could tell, the lion was good. Very good. She realized she wasn't an art-critic, but she liked what she saw. She walked around a little, looking at some of the paintings with wide-open eyes. Leo's style was expressive and detailed. He didn't simply draw or paint a model on whitespace. Every painting was a situation. A picnic, someone walking down the street...there was one over there of a radio broadcast for some reason. Probably an exercise in painting technical gadgets.
In a way, Emma felt like she was walking around inside Leo's head, looking at dreams and fantasies. Some of the fantasies were of a...private nature, and she modestly didn't look at those images for very long. They made her blush terribly.
She stopped by a painting of Lizzy, speaking to a crowd of protesters. As far as Emma knew, Lizzy went to rallies but she was never the speaker. Perhaps it was...one of the doe's dreams? She didn't know. She could see the looks on every face in the crowd. Fascinated and paying attention. There was an almost...Messiah-like quality to the imagery. Like the sermon on the mountain, in a modern setting and with a female Christ.
Yet it was simply a picture of a rally. Was she over-analyzing now?
Suddenly, Emma wished Jean was there. Critical Thinking was the vixen's strongest suit.
She smiled and continued. The next painting showed a male and female feral lion. The male was relaxing, comfortably, at the end of a long, ebony table. He was in the process of licking one of his paws. His face was amazingly detailed as well, as was that of the female, stalking down the table. Around them, terrified corporate executives were shielding themselves with their briefcases and arms. The lions weren't attacking any of them, but they were clearly in complete control of the room.
The faces were so detailed. Emma wondered where she had seen them before, but only for a moment, before she realized they were Leo's parents. She had seen them downstairs on family photographs.
"Whoa..." she mumbled and continued.
Allegorical paintings? That kind of thing hadn't really been in use in centuries but these were different. Historically speaking, allegorical paintings were usually overstuffed with...well...allegories. They ended up looking comical as a result. At least to a modern eye.
Emma closed her eyes tightly and tried to remember an image coming up from the back of her mind. She smiled as she remembered. A painting of Queen Elizabeth I of England, as an old lady...with death standing behind her throne, a bony paw on her shoulder. It was the only image painted of that particular queen after her youth, showing her true age. At least as far as Emma knew. That was more the style of what Leo painted.
One or two references, but so detailed. Crisp and stylish. The image of Lizzy, speaking to the rapt crowd. His parents as corporate predators.
No wonder Leo was modest about his art. He probably didn't think most furs would understand what he was creating.
"These are...brilliant," Emma whispered to herself. She wondered if there were more paintings like that.
There was an unfinished one laying on a table. Unfinished because it wasn't fully colored yet. The sketch drawing was still visible in places. Emma laughed as she looked at it. It was at least a great concept. It looked like a screen shot of a popular sitcom, featuring a flower-power, hippie-esque femme and her lawyer husband. Instead of the actors, though...the painting was of Miriam and Fox.
Very fitting, Emma thought and put it down again.
"I thought I'd find you up here..." Lizzy's voice said behind her from the doorway. "Downstairs is empty and I figured you'd be home somewhere."
Emma froze. She felt like a child caught with her paw in the cookie-tin. Slowly, she turned around.
"He's very good, Lizzy. I never saw any of his work before. I'm...I'm terribly sorry if I overstepped a boundary..." she said, lowly.
Lizzy smiled and shrugged. "I don't mind. I keep telling him he needs to show these to others. Maybe the fact that you've seen will help him realize that he should let others see these. Which one do you like the best?"
"I only spent the last five...ten minutes up here. I haven't seen it all yet. Far from it. I love the one of his parents, though," Emma admitted, relaxing now that she realized Lizzy wasn't angry.
"It's one of my favorites as well. I've met the furs. That's exactly the impression they leave on you."
"Ah...Lizzy, I've got some news, actually."
Lizzy leaned against the door-frame and nodded. "Sure, let me hear?"
Emma blushed and smiled. "I got a place to live. A really nice little apartment, too. I can move in as soon as we can get someone to help haul all my stuff there."
Lizzy smiled and pushed off the frame of the door. "That is the best news I've had all day. Between hackers and Volkswagen import problems, I think that's probably exactly what I needed to hear," she said and headed over to Emma, giving her friend a tight hug. "You've got a job and a new place to live. It's time to build a new life, Emma."
Emma just hugged her friend back and nodded.