(Yeens Day 2)

.>You check the Tokarev before sliding it into your holster. You pat the more important piece you have on you-- the business card-- before heading out.
.>It's early afternoon, and there are a few more people on the streets this time as you make your way to the Pomewater. When you were planning all this out in the morning, doing all your research, a small part of you regretted taking that shower last night. That yeen-musk on you might have helped.
.>But, with a bit of luck, that won't be an issue for much longer. And no matter what, you're gonna come home smelling like that again tonight.
.>God, it makes you want to shower again already.
.>Or maybe that's just the company you have in general here in Chutesville. **** addicts hide out in alleyways, and 'urban nomads' patrol with their shopping carts, stocked with all sorts of odds and ends. And of course, the occasional troops of various gangs would stroll down the sidewalk rather than roll down the street.
.>You'd feel more sorry for them if you weren't worried about getting held up by them, for your wallet or something more intimate. It's a paradox for the state: they're proof that there's no hope of fulfilling the lofty, utopian goals set out in their constitution, but at the same time they provide the state with a reason to exist and justify more grabs for power. Their doublespeak on the situation is impressive.
.>You're curious if it's anything like this in other sectors; you've never been outside WCS, and you've never seriously thought about moving.
.>By the end of this week, you'll find out if you'll ever be able to.
.>Fortunately, you don't get waylaid on your way to the bar, your rougher choice of fashion helping you blend in. You open the door, the same smells and sounds hitting you as the day before. But as your eyes blink, adjusting to the dim light, you hear different voices.

.>"Look! The little dude came back!"
.>This time, it's a muscular yeen that grabs you, dragging you-- well, pulling you, you're not exactly resisting this time-- further into the bar. You hear various other yips and quips, but as you open your eyes, it's not the same crew from the day before. It's in fact a little smaller-- though the girls themselves are all bigger.
.>"Rae was bragging about how much he liked her cooking," the leanest one says with a slight smile, crossing her arms, covered in striped sleeveless gloves.
.>"Well, she's not here," one of the muscular ones says-- there's two, this one wearing a tank-top-- "Sorry little man."
.>"We can still get you something to eat, if you want," your escort says-- the slightly smaller, muscular one without a hairdo, her head hyena au naturel. Her tone is oddly non-suggestive.
.>"Or," the largest one says, taking your chin in hand, "you could have some fun..."
.>Her tone is much more suggestive, and she gives you a sneering smile as you're **** to take her in. She seems to like spandex, and certainly fills it out-- both the shirt and shorts.

.>"A drink sounds nice," you say, much more easily than yesterday.
.>"Certainly," the thin one says, stealing you away as quick as Rae yesterday, "Right this way."
.>Again, there's a commotion as the other sisters protest; unlike yesterday, though, your eager server isn't able to keep a hold on you. One of the muscular ones says "Hey, I wanted to do it!' as she yanks on her sister's shoulder, while the other simply lets out a frustrated whine. But it's the big one with the spandex that ultimately ends up with you, snatching you up and tossing you onto her shoulder the moment you're unoccupied.
.>"He's mine!" she snarls, and you're able to feel the rumble in your gut. You're not exactly in a position to argue, and her tight grip around your waist makes you think twice about it. Until you see a familiar face approaching from the bar.
.>"Set him down, Roxxi," Jamie says before flying out of your vision as your captor whirls around to face her. You feel a growl, this one quite a bit more menacing than the one she gave the other three yeens, who are surprisingly staring at her rather than you.
.>"You can take him," you hear the little hyena sigh, "Just set him down and take his order. We're working."
.>Roxxi grumbles, but moves on after a moment, taking you over to one of the booths and dropping you in.
.>"What're you having?" she grunts, crossing her arms, "Rae's out, so it's Sammi doing the cooking. The little toothpick that tried to steal you away first."
.>"Dark n' Stormy," you say, "And... You have menus?"
.>"Just ask, and Sammi'll make it," the big yeen said, her presence imposing, her words seeming to hold a threat. Though not to you.
.>"How about some fish and chips, then?"
.>Roxxi nods, then turns and bellows at the bar "Jamie! Dark n' Stormy! Sammi! Fish n' Chips!"
.>She snorts when she turns to find you startled, and slides into the booth next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing you to her side.
.>"What's the matter, humie," she says, squeezing you to her as she lounges, "Was I too loud?"
.>"No."
.>"Good. Now tell me, what're you doing here?" she asks, leaning over and beginning to smell your hair.
.>"I-I wanted to relax," you manage, keeping still in the killer embrace, "Worked out okay y-yesterday, so..."
.>Roxxi makes a deep "hmm" sound before pulling away, adjusting her hold on you.
.>Her hand drapes down between your legs, her fingers brushing along your center with purpose.
.>She grins-- you gulp.
.>"You don't seem relaxed," she rumbles, stroking your thigh instead, "Maybe you should've ordered two 'stormies..."
.>"Y-yeah, maybe," you say. No need to hide your nervousness-- you're just glad she mistook the hardness in your pants for you. Anything more than the brush, and there's no way she'd have mistaken the Tokarev for anything but a hunk of soviet steel.
.>"I heard about the trial," Roxxi says, continuing to massage you, "Sounds like a bunch a bullshit. And that dog sounds like a real bitch."
.>"She is," you say, "It's serendipity that her last name's one letter off."

.>The big yeen gives you a look of slight confusion, before you say "Birch." Then she belts out the yipping laughter of her species, shaking you slightly in her grasp.
.>"'Officer Bitch,'" she manages when the laughter dies down a little, "Shit, that's funny."
.>She shifts away slightly to palm the back of your head, forcing you to look up at her.
.>"Stick with me next time you go there, humie," she says, "I'll make sure she don't fuck with you."
.>"Thanks for the offer," you say, feeling yourself tense up and try to face her as she leans in closer, her musk coming in waves.
.>"I could think of a few ways you could..." she whispers as much as someone like her can, licking her lips.
.>Just a few inches away.
.>"Like a tip."
.>Roxxi jumps, whirling around to see Jamie standing at the end of the table, a stern look on her face and drink in hand. Being small seemed to have its advantages for her.
.>"Thank you," Roxxi growls, snatching the drink up and setting it in front of you without looking away from her sister.
.>"Of course," the little yeen says, standing tall. Even with Roxxi seated, she still has to crane her neck up. You can see the fur rising on your big boothmate's neck rising-- you'd probably be able to feel it too, with how she's pressed against you, but all the spandex gets in the way.
.>"You might want to check on Sammi," Jamie says after a few more seconds of staring contest, "You know how she is."
.>Roxxi gives her an animalistic snarl-snort as the little yeen walks away, turning her attention back to you, trying to pick up where she left off-- only to find you dipping into the booze already.
.>"Good?" she asks when you finally have to set the glass down.
.>You nod, and she gives a grunt of approval.
.>"Good," she says, her hand drifting back down to your thigh, "Maybe we'll get the right parts of you relaxed."
.>"So what do you do?" you ask quickly; she pulls back slightly, the look on her face not quite confusion, but more surprise.
.>"I work the floor at this bar, what's it look like?"
.>"I meant outside of work," you say, "You've gotta do stuff for fun, right? Unless that range-time was training for work, in which case I probably should go."
.>Roxxi laughs along with you, though not to the point of hysterics like before.
.>"Nah, don't worry, humie," she says, squeezing you slightly, "If anyone causes a problem, I'll sort 'em out. We go to the range for fun, whole bar does. Sunday's our day off, and there's almost no better way to let out that pent-up frustration."
.>She her claws dig into your thigh a little as she squeezes; you get the other way she's suggesting. You're not quite ready to get there yet. Not without a little more assurance.
.>"That why you were there?" she asks, "You got some kinda issue besides the whole court thing?"

.>"Nothing that bad," you reply, taking another drink, "I just like shooting and old guns. They function different, they've got history, character..."
.>You trail off, Roxxi's hand getting a little bored and exploring a little higher.
.>"Come on, Roxxi, what do you do for fun? Besides shooting, I guess."
.>"You serious?" she snorts.
.>"Why not?"
.>She hesitates for a moment, giving you a look and flaring her nostrils as she sniffs you. Unlike before, though, you're fairly sure she wouldn't be able to smell your intentions.
.>"I read, I guess," she says eventually. She says it quiet, too-- you're half-inclined to push further, but decide against it. Instead, you reach into your pocket as you take a drink and pull out the business card from yesterday.
.>"Anyway, uh, Roxxi, I think--"
.>A loud noise pierces the air, making the two of you jump. A noise similar to the fire alarm comes from Roxxi before she gets up, stomping toward the kitchen with a bellow of "Sammi! What the hell did you do?"
.>You're wondering the same thing, though as you hear the smoke detector get smashed and the sounds of an argument, you're fairly confident your fish and chips aren't coming out anytime soon. Not that you were dying for them; it is close to dinner, but it's bar-food, after all.
.>Before you have time to really contemplate the point, the two muscular yeens scurry over to your table, seeing you unattended. They appear confident, but something about their movements is different: it's not the way that Margo and Aja slid in when Rae left you alone. They don't sit down with you, either, just crowding around the edge of the table.
.>"You doing okay?" the plain-haired one asks.
.>"Yeah. I hope Sammi is, though."
.>The two of them start laughing, but quickly stifle themselves before it boils into their signature, loud yipping.
.>"I don't think she is," the one in the tank-top says, "Roxxi sounds pretty pissed. I'm ViVi, by the way."
.>"And I'm Kandra," the other says.
.>"Nice to meet you," you say, putting the card on the table. "When Shay and Rae took me home last night, they mentioned that you girls offer... services..."
.>Their expressions glow for a moment, and Kandra opens her mouth before ViVi grabs her shoulder lightly, nodding back toward the kitchen.
.>"I know, but I wanna help him!" Kandra whispers to her sister; they're not trying to hide it from you, clearly. "Besides, we're 'doing our job,' he's not getting served, is he?"
.>"You know Roxxi's gonna come out any minute, and she's probably gonna be cruisin to bruise," ViVi responds.
.>"Then you go, and I'll take him."
.>"No way! I'm not letting you do that."
.>As the two of them squabble quietly about their situation, you begin to wonder if this was a bad idea. But you're in it now.

.>And when Roxxi comes out from the kitchen, you don't really have much of a choice as your two visitors quickly scatter, wiping down tables and trying to look as if they weren't as yours seconds ago.
.>"Sorry about that," Roxxi grunts, plopping down beside you and setting down a small basket of fries, "Take these. Sammi's paying."
.>"Uh, thanks," you reply. They look pretty fresh, still glistening slightly, but she pops a few in her mouth.
.>"So, Roxxi," you say, sliding the card toward her, "When Rae and Shay took me home, they gave me this."
.>The big yeen pauses her chewing momentarily, taking a sniff of the card.
.>"Yep, that one was Shay's," she says, going back to plucking at fries, "Maybe I'll let her take some leftovers home next time we're working together."
.>"They also mentioned that you all offer... services?"
.>Her ears prick, and she turns to you slowly, an eager, sultry grin on her face as she sits tall, crossing her arms and squeezing.
.>"You askin' me specifically?"
.>"Yes, but--"
.>Before you can finish she's already half on top of you, clutching your head in a firm but gentle grip, putting your back to the seat.
.>"I don't know, humie," she says, "I meant what I said... I like chasing my prey... but I could be convinced to make an exception..."
.>She lets out a hum as you try to push up on her, finding your hands sinking into her spandex-clad bust. You can feel yourself turning red, and it's not just from the pressure she's putting in all the right places.
.>"R-Roxxi, that's not quite what I meant..."
.>Her expression falters a little, but she keeps her grip.
.>"W-what I was wondering, really, is if I could get some help from-- from 'The Bad Apples?'"
.>She pauses, then retreats slightly, hauling you over her shoulder again.
.>"Of course you can," she says, her voice clearly strained, "I'll take you to the conference room..."
.>You're in no position to argue. Roxxi takes you through one of the doors that lead back past the kitchen-- you can smell something burnt-- and into a tight, old hallway, clearly a modified human design. There are a few doors; you're wondering which one they're dealing from when Roxxi suddenly whips you off her shoulder and up against the wall, her arm a steel bar against your throat.

.>"Who the fuck are you?" she snarls on the edge of a roar, inches from your face, "Who the fuck told you?"
.>You can't exactly answer, too busy squirming and ****, praying your windpipe isn't permanently caved in. You claw at her arms, and she snorts.
.>"Can't let you go now, dumbass," she growls, leaning in harder, "Should've kept your mouth shut."
.>She brushes the hair out of your face as you continue to struggle, feeling the black creeping in at the edges of your vision.
.>"Be a shame to waste such a cutie," she muses before dragging a claw along your cheek, the pain renewing your consciousness, "Why'd you have to go ask a question like that, Anon?"
.>You knife a hand between your body and hers, fumbling around for the Tokarev in desperation. She notices, of course, and sucks in her gut momentarily to grab your hand, slamming it against the wall as the soviet garbage hunk tumbles to the ground, probably cracking the old tile.
.>"Bad idea, humie," she growls, pressing herself back up against you, "Now B's probably gonna make me kill you... Maybe I can still break your pelvis before that, though..."
.>Her voice is getting echoey as the lights get softer, edges blurring. A voice drifts to you, above Roxxi's snarling and scent, and you feel her let up a little again, blood rushing in your ears as things start to come back into focus.
.>"...I said put him the fuck down!"
.>Roxxi's not looking at you, it's at someone else.
.>"Did you not hear what I told you?" she barks, and you can feel her body tense against yours, no longer big and soft.
.>"I did, and I want to hear what he's got to say. Quit crushing him into the wall and let him actually answer you!"
.>You recognize the voice as Jamie's. Roxxi lets out a loud growl, staring off at her sister who you can't see. Then she lets up on your throat, grabbing your other arm and splaying you out with your back against the wall as you cough and try to get air into your sore throat. She puts a knee between your legs for good measure, keeping your feet from the floor.
.>"I get first dibs," Roxxi says as you begin to recover, Jamie walking close enough for you to actually see now.
.>"Anon, what the fuck are you doing?"
.>"I-- I wanted to-- get help--" you say, "Help with the-- the court case--"
.>Her expression remains stern.
.>"I know you guys are-- you do stuff on the side. I figured that you could help."
.>Jamie stares, searching your now bloodshot eyes with arms crossed. She takes a large breath and lets out a large sigh through her nose.
.>"Let him down. I'll sort him out."
.>"I told you, I--"
.>"We're not killing him, Rox!" Jamie shouts, venom in her voice. "He's a dumbass, but an innocent dumbass. At least in that respect."

.>Roxxi lets you down with a huff, and your legs nearly collapse under you.
.>"He's a dirty little humie," she grunts as she shoves past, going back toward the front, "He got all excited when I did that."
.>You pat yourself down there, concerned for a moment when Jamie grabs you by the shoulder and steers you down the hallway, her claws in your shoulder and your gun sticking out from her waistband. She brings the two of you to one of the doors, opening it up to reveal a cross between a break room and a living room.
.>It smells deeply of yeens: a table and chairs dominate the room, the tv making a close second on its set of drawers.
.>"Sit down," Jamie orders, and you do. She pulls up a chair across from you, again letting out a sigh as she leans on the table, rubbing her face.
.>"Where did you hear about 'The Bad Apples?'"
.>"Would you believe me if I said I figured it out on my own?"
.>She motions for you to explain yourself, still just about as stressed as you.
.>"I looked up 'Pomewater--' it's an apple. I was pretty sure the guns you had at the range Sunday weren't legit, and the number of identical ones meant either you got a bundle deal and similar tastes, or you were testing product. Quick look at some books and I found I was right. Combine all that with a strangely empty bar in the rougher part of town as a front, and I knew there was some gang shit going on. All I needed was the name-- and, well, I kind of guessed."
.>The room is silent except for the tapping of Jamie's foot under the table, and you're left wringing your hands. You're beginning to feel the damage from Roxxi now that the adrenaline has worn off.
.>"What is it you want?" she finally asks, looking at you.
.>"Help with my court issues."
.>"And we're going to do that how?"
.>"I don't know," you say, "Bribe the judge, come up with fake evidence, find dirt on Patricia, I don't know. What I do know this place probably doesn't have to deal with normal state inspections. There's gotta be something you can do."
.>Jamie stares at the table in thought, then looks up again.
.>"And the courtship issue? How do you expect me to solve that one?"
.>You take a breath. You knew this might be coming. And you know what it means.
.>"If you can't fix that one, I'll get a CU with one of you. All of you. I don't care. I'll do whatever it takes to get this done. To-- to be a member, if it comes to that, I guess."
.>Jamie snorts a little with laughter.
.>"I'm serious."
.>"That's what I was afraid of," she says, calming herself down. "You know that's not how it'd work, right? You think any of those girls out there would be content just tied down to one guy?"
.>"No," you say, "And that's not what I'm asking for. If it gets the court off my back, I'm fine signing off on a piece of paper with one of them."
.>"Or you," you add. She rolls her eyes.
.>"I'm flattered," she says, then sighs. "I'll see what I can do. I'll have to talk with the boss. Come on, you should head out-- I'll take you to the back entrance."

.>She gets up, and the two of you go back out into the small hallway. To your surprise, there's not a clot of nosey hyenas waiting for you. Either Rox didn't tell anyone, or she made it clear no one was to go back here. Jamie leads you another door, this one leading out into an alleyway.
.>"Don't come by for a while," she says to you, leaning on the doorframe, "We'll get in touch with you. And I don't think I need to make it clear: you don't tell anyone shit about us, right?"
.>"Of course," you say, eyeing your Tokarev, still hanging in her waistband. She slides it out and hands it to you, grip first.
.>"And I'd say not to bring that by again either. Not until we've figured this out."
.>You just nod, sliding it back into your holster. She starts to head past you; that's when you notice it's gotten dark out.
.>"Hey Jamie? It's dark out. Could I-- could I get some extra protection?"
.>"You seem pretty capable," she says, turning back to you, "Though I guess you're a bit dumb too. You really want it?"
.>You nod. With a sigh, she walks up to you and shoves you into the wall and closes her mouth around yours, her tongue pressing at your lips. Her hands thread into your hair; yours grab her shoulders, unsure what to do, how to respond as she breaks away by an inch, rubbing her stubby snout against your face.
.>"There," she says, stepping back, "That smell ought to keep the street trash off you."
.>She hesitates before walking away, something in her eye. You realize something as you step out into the street:
.>You don't smell it at all anymore.

.>"Hello?"
.>"Hello. Is this Anon Anonerson?"
.>"Yes," you say, staring at the bottle of booze in your half-lit apartment, "Who's this?"
.>"Steve Lyons, your attorney."
.>You straighten up on the couch, setting it down. "Good to meet you, I guess. Working late?"
.>"Not by choice," the man on the other end grunts, his voice somewhat bestial, "They just handed me your case 15 minutes before closing. So I hope you'll understand if I ask that we discuss things properly tomorrow."
.>"Of course," you say, "My schedule is open. Life's been turned upside down."
.>"I imagine; I've got an opening at 3pm, let's do then. I'll send you my CV along with my address."
.>"Okay. Is there anything you need to know now? Anything I should bring?"
.>"Well," the anthro says, "Given that one of the charges against you involves courtship, it would help if you could bring your partner. If you've got plans to make a union, it would be nice to know."
.>"I'm thinking about it," you say, though it's probably not with who he's thinking, "I can get in touch with her. She's actually talking with some legal-types of her own about the gun charges."
.>"Excellent," the attorney says after a moment, "If I can get their contact info as well, things will go smoothly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go home and get some rest. Work starts at 6 tomorrow."
.>"Sure," you say, "Nice meeting you."
.>"That will be tomorrow," he says in reply, "Goodnight, Mr. Anonerson."
.>"Goodnight, Mr. Lyons."
.>As the call ends, you hear the notification chime of your email. The assignment process was slow, but this lion sure wasn't.
.>At least, you assume he's a lion. A male anthro at all is a rarity.
.>You forward the lawyer's email to Talia, along with a quick update.
.>'Just got my DA, forwarded you his info. You able to go to his office at 3pm tomorrow?'
.>You look over his CV as you wait for her to respond: it's not exactly filled with cases, though he made a point of including his education. The firm he's from appears to be competent.
.>'Good,' Talia texts back, 'You do anything else?'
.>You hesitate, your fingers lingering over the keypad.
.>'I'm trying to set things right, of course.'
.>'How?'
.>'I'm trying for a CU.'
.>She waits a long time before texting back.
.>'Don't do anything stupid.'
.>'Would I ever?'
.>She sends you a picture she took of you as you were trying to clear a barrel obstruction in someone's shotgun; it appears like you're staring right down the barrel.
.>'Fuck you,' you send back.