I think that was the first time I ever called him ‘Papa’. Honestly I’m not sure why I did it, it just seemed right at the time. Why do small children do anything? Maybe somehow, even back then I knew he’d be good for Mom and me. I like to think so.

  -exerpt from Sarah Fairchild personal journal-

  Removing himself from his warm bed felt like an absolute crime, but it was time for Goober’s daily patrol. Since Bighound had left him in charge Goober had felt it necessary to step up his security duty. After all, if he wasn’t alert, who would protect Greenhound from that runt of a Nothound that kept bothering her? Greenhound was Goobers friend. Not only did she lavish him with well deserved praise, but she also let him hunt vermin. It had taken a few days to wear her down, but through patient, nightly whining Goober had eventually made his desires clear. He only had to stand by the locked door now and she’d rush over to unbolt it for him, making sure to leave it open just a crack so he could return when he felt like it.

  Goober had been doing a lot of vermin hunting since Bighound had left. Slowly, like a flan being demolded, Goober oozed out of the mass of blankets under Greenhound’s hammock and slunk up the basement stairs. If he was lucky, Greenhound would have made herself something to eat for Goober. He was not in luck this time as Greenhound seemed to be busy with a bunch of Nothounds when he got up the stairs.

  Most of the Nothounds seemed to be alright, milling about the front of their territory in their pen doing whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. One however seemed to be making a fuss. They were barking at Greenhound. Goober neither understood nor cared what they were barking about, but he could see by Greenhounds submissive body language that they were attempting to dominate one of his pack members. This was not to be allowed and he was quick to come to his pack members aid. After investigating a plate left carelessly near the edge of the table. It had half a sandwich and some dried fruit on it.

  Once he’d finished with his snack, Goober wandered over to the counter and stood up. Resting his forepaws on the counter for balance he looked the Nothound in the eye and let out a deep resonate growl. He could feel the surface of the counter vibrate under his paws and the Nothound turned a lighter shade of skin color.

  They growled something at Greenhound, who traitorously tried to push Goober off his perch. Goober however, did not want to be moved and therefore did not allow himself to be pushed. Instead, he got his revenge on the traitor by letting vent to a silent but deadly fart that soon had his targets gasping for breath. Greenhound pushed on him a few more times, but soon had to abandon her perch for cleaner air and the Nothound she had been talking to fled entirely.

  Feeling that his work was done, Goober wandered up to Bighound’s domain above to see if any more scraps of food had been left unattended.

  <><><>

  Moira’s parents didn’t leave immediately for the store. Instead choosing to putter about their house doing chores and entertaining their granddaughter. Twice during this time Joe tried to get Moira to talk to him about whatever was on her mind, but both times she diverted him onto other topics. Whatever it was, it was clearly something she didn’t want witnesses to.

  Joe’s mind ran off on a thousand different possible scenarios, each more horrible and outlandish than the last. Nothing came of this, other than to make the time drag by and give him a headache.

  Eventually however, Githa and Howe collected their bags, their list, and their granddaughter and bid the pair of them goodbye, leaving Joe and Moira standing in the cluttered living room alone at last.

  Out of the corner of his eye Joe could see Moira fidget and look everywhere but at him. Well Joe, rip the adhesive medical strip off and get this over with. He turned towards Moira and extended a hand which she took automatically. “You had something you wanted to talk to me about?” He prompted.

  His attempt to get the ball rolling only succeeded in making Moira blush and squirm harder. “Joe…” she trailed off after his name and he felt his stomach drop out his feet. Is she about to break up with me? Joe thought, icewater entering his veins. He did his best to keep his expression neutral though and gave Moira the chance to work through whatever she was struggling with. His patience was rewarded a moment later when she took a deep breath and continued.

  “I…I wanted to talk to you about our relationship.” Something must have showed in his eyes as Moira shook her head quickly and clarified. “It’s nothing bad. I..” she trailed off again before taking a deep breath. “I had a whole speech planned in my head, but it all sounds dumb now so I’m going to just come right out and say it.” She looked Joe in the eye and gave his hand a little squeeze. “Sex is on the table.”

  Of all the things Joe thought was going to be said, he’d honestly not thought of that one. He struggled for an appropriate response, but took too long letting his mouth come up with an inappropriate one instead. “Are you sure? I mean we have a bed as a solid plan B.” Thankfully his dumbassery hadn’t doomed him. Moira gave a tension cutting snort of laughter and shook her head. With the tension bled out of the air Joe’s curiosity got the better of him and he couldn’t help but ask. “So what was the big speech part of it?”

  “I was going to say how much I appreciate you being patient with me as I worked through my own hang ups.” Moira’s smile faded and, a far away look coming into her eyes. “Minsk left a lot of pain behind when he disappeared. You’re nothing like him but there was still that part of me that thought you’d disappear too if we…” Joe could see her get lost in her head again so took a gamble.

  “If we did the bedroom brawl?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows. This got a laugh from his blacksmith love who punched him lightly on the arm.

  “Don’t you ever call it that again.” She said, although there was amusement in her voice.

  “How about the ‘friction fight’?”

  “No!”

  “A two person choir?”

  “I swear by all the gods if you don’t stop that I’m going to punch you for real!” Moira threatened although she couldn’t help but laugh. Joe took the moment of distraction to pull her into his arms and give her a good squeeze. Their conversation had clearly put ideas in his mind as he was suddenly hyper aware of all her softness and curves as they pushed up against her. It was impossible for him to hide his body’s reaction to the contact.

  For her part Moira didn’t seem to protest, wrapping her own arms around him pulling him just as hard into herself. Every fiber of Joe’s being thrummed, telling him exactly where this was heading. Before he lost himself completely he had to be smart for once in his life. “Before we do anything though,” he said, hoping he wasn’t spoiling the moment. “We need to get some protection.”

  Moira blinked in surprise before seeming to come to. She gave another chuckle and squeezed him hard before letting him go. “This is why I love you Joe. You’re an absolute sweetheart, but you don’t have your head in the clouds. Unlike some people I could mention.”

  Joe made a snorting noise. “He may have me in height, but I have him in gir- Ow!”

  <><><>

  Joe would have liked to snoop around the chemist shop they found, but it was clear Moira was on a mission. Now that the air and her intentions were clear she didn’t hesitate in dragging him straight to the counter and paying for the pair of potions without batting an eye. Joe had just enough time to get a subtle wink from the kindly looking older C’tahl woman behind the counter before he was whisked off back to their ultimate destination.

  Joe hadn’t been sure what form contraceptives took in this world, having never really expected to get this far. Once he’d seen the potions on the shelf however, his skill book knowledge prompted him with how to make them himself. That’s the problem with the skill books. Joe griped to himself as he was pulled along. Unless I’m prompted on what to look for, they don’t give me squat.

  Feeling that now was not the time to dwell on such things, Joe let himself get distracted by the sway of Moira’s hips as she pulled him along like she was trying to get him to take off like a kite. His mind went back to her admission in the bathhouse that she thought of herself as fat. While Moira’s build was in no way athletic, to Joe anyone who would call her fat was blind. Moira was soft in all the right places to Joe and the thought of her letting him explore all her curves put just as much of a spring in his step as it did for her.

  He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted this until Moira had pressed herself up to him in the alleyway that morning. Man does that mean I like being dominated? Whatever, my masculinity isn’t so fragile that that’s a problem. If she likes leading I’d follow her anywhere.

  They hit the door at speed, barely taking the time to shut and lock it before Joe was dragged mercilessly onwards. Once the bedroom door was shut behind them Moira passed Joe a potion before downing the other one and pulling a face. “Gods above, I’d forgotten how bad those were.”

  Joe gave the uncorked bottle a sniff and wished he hadn’t. His nose was assaulted by a mixture of acetone and burned rubber that left him coughing. Moira had little sympathy for his reaction however and only gave a short laugh as she began undoing the large leather belt that cinched her dress in place. “Do not smell it. In fact, when you drink it hold your breath and do your best to not let it touch your tongue.”

  “How can I do that? My tongue practically fills my mouth?” Joe protested before sighing and just doing his best. It wasn’t enough. The contraceptive potion was by far the single worst thing he’d ever tasted. It somehow managed to imbue an clinging oily texture to the smell that made it difficult to swallow. He got it in two gulps though and almost threw the spent bottle to the side getting another laugh from Moira.

  “More than a few people are alive today because of that flavor, Sarah included.” Moira said, causing Joe to glance back up at her. He was just in time to watch her shimmy out of her dress, her large hips giving her some trouble as they clung onto the garment on its way down.

  While Joe had seen her at the bath house, the sight of her still took his breath away. Beneath her dress she wore a gauzy chest wrap and panties that hid everything from view while still showing the curves and outlines to tantalize him. Did she plan for this, or is that just what she wears under her clothes? Joe tried to think back to the bathhouse, but his mind refused to be pulled away from Moira’s body.

  When she caught him staring she smirked and cocked a hip. “Well don’t you just look like a kid who can’t wait to open his birthday present.”

  “Oh believe me, I want to open this present up real bad.” Joe took a step towards her and Moira met him halfway. She stood, arms on his hips as he reached up and undid the little hooks that held her wrap in place. They were shaped like silver butterflies and sat just on the outside of her left breast. With them removed the garment began to unwind under the weight of Moira’s chest, needing little encouragement from Joe to see it off on its way. While he helped it he planted little kisses along Moira’s neck and shoulder, getting a soft coo from the blacksmith each time his lips landed on her skin.

  When it was done Joe kissed a line down her neck, between her breasts and across her stomach. Stopping just above the hem of her panties, Joe took the fabric in his teeth and pulled on it. This earned him a sharp intake of breath before Moira’s hands clamped down on the back of Joe’s head, gripping a tuft in each.

  “Oh gods Joe…” Moira moaned. “This isn’t fair, you’re still dressed.”

  “We can fix that once I’m done playing.” Joe said before pressing a kiss just under the hem of her panties, causing another sharp intake of breath and more hair pulling. He teased the edges of the garment down slowly, allowing Moira’s last stitch of clothing to see itself to the ground. As he stood, Joe kissed his way up Moira’s leg, along her stomach and chest before ending at her lips. She returned the kiss twofold, pressing herself into him and practically forcing his mouth open.

  He could taste the lingering flavor of the contraceptive on her tongue, but was sure his wasn’t any better so did his best to ignore it as he took a double handful of her backside and squeezed. Moira moaned into his mouth before releasing him from her lip lock.

  “Clothes, off, now.” She panted, already working on his belt. “I’ve got years of pent up frustration in me and you’re going to help work it out.”

  “Years eh?” Joe commented, doing his best to help her. “Sounds like a lot. We’ll probably not get through it all today.”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  When the two of them had finally managed to work Joe free of his clothing Moira picked the taller man up and threw him onto the bed. Joe hit with enough force that he almost bounced off the other side, but he was saved by Moira climbing atop him a moment later. The moments that followed were like fire and the pair of lovers burned for each other. It was passionate, clumsy, furtive, and honest in a way they had both thought was lost to them.

  When their heads finally hit the pillows for the last time they were well and truly spent. They lay there together, Joe looking up at the ceiling while Moira snuggled into his side using his arm as a pillow. No words were spoken, they’d said enough and all that was left to do was enjoy each other's company. At some point Joe drifted off to the light sound of Moira snoring on his chest.

  <><><>

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “We’re hoooome!” The sing song words woke Joe up from a dead sleep. He had half a second of incoherent confusion before reality reasserted itself and panic set in. Moira and he still lay sprawled out and naked on her parents guestroom bed with not only her parents, but her daughter as well, likely on their way to check up on the two of them.

  Thus began the fastest race to dress Joe had ever participated in. He won by dint of having fewer bits of underwear to put on. Joe had just managed to make it to the door when it began to swing open to admit one blissfully untraumatized six year old.

  “Hey Sarah,” Joe said, catching the door and preventing it from opening all the way. “How was your outing with Grandma and Grandpa?” Joe could make a pretty good guess, seeing as how the little cat girl held a whimsical dragon plush he was sure they hadn’t brought with them.

  Sarah beamed up at him, holding up her treasure for his inspection. “Great! We went to the grocery store, then Grammy and Grampy got me a muffin and then we went to the toystore and they bought me this! His name’s Mister Grunkles.”

  “Well hello Mr.Grunkles.” Joe intoned solemnly, doing his best to drag this interaction out as long as he could. The light pressure of fingers touching his back told him he was saved from further stalling as Moira had finished dressing.

  “He’s adorable, Sweety.” Moira confirmed, coming around Joe to appraise the new addition to their family. “Where is Grandma and Grandpa?”

  “In here.” Githa’s voice echoed down the hall. “Just putting the food away. Come tell us what you two got up to while we were gone.”

  “Not on your life.” Joe muttered under his breath. Moira gave an emphatic nod.

  “We were just…reading.” Moira said, turning to Joe for confirmation.

  “Yeah, reading. I was studying up on new enchantments.”

  “And I was rereading some old childhood favorites.”

  “Yeah”

  “Yeah”

  With their cover story firmly cemented, they followed Sarah back down the hall and into the kitchen where the Fairchilds were dividing the labor of putting away the groceries in the way only long married couples could. The moved effortlessly around each other, not talking to or getting in the way of the other. Githa claimed the low items, stocking vegetables in a cabinet full of wicker bottomed drawers while above Howe seemed to float around her taking items met for higher shelves and depositing them in their assigned places.

  When Githa saw the trio enter she smiled and straightened up, rubbing her hands together to remove the dirt that had transferred from their purchases. “And what did you two love birds do while we were gone?” She asked with a coy little smile on her face.

  “Reading.” The response was in almost perfect, guilty unison as both of them tried their best to look as nonchalant as possible.

  “Reading…” Githa echoed back, her tone and raised eyebrow telling the two new lovers that they were well and truly busted even before Githa continued. “Two full grown adults in a loving relationship are given two hours to be completely on their own, and they choose to spend it reading.” Behind her Howe continued to serenely stack groceries, offering no comment or acknowledgement of his daughter's possible activities.

  Joe’s poker face was not the best and beside him Moira wasn’t doing much better. I’m almost forty damnit. I shouldn’t be cringing at the idea of being ‘caught’ by her parents. Joe grumbled internally, but to no avail. He felt like a scolded teenager under Githa’s motherly glare and couldn’t stop himself from squirming.

  Githa held them there like that for a moment longer before giving a quick bark of laughter and turning away. “Well, if the two of you need some more time to ‘read’ let us know. I’ve got no problem spoiling my granddaughter. We’ve got a lot of spoiling to make up for, don’t we honey?”

  Howe gave a grunt from his place at the far end of the kitchen where he was putting away the last of their food.

  “Now,” Githa said, changing the subject with a clap of her hands. “ I promised a little kitten breakfast for lunch and need to get started on that. Sarah sweety, do you want to help Grammy in the kitchen?”

  “Yes!” cheered the little six year old, dancing on the spot. “Can we make Flip’ms?”

  “Flip’ms?” Joe raised an eyebrow toward Moira who shrugged.

  “Have you never had a Flip’m before?” She asked. When Joe shook his head, Moira began an explanation augmented by hand gestures to describe. “They’re a type of pan fried sweet bread. It’s made out of a thin batter like a cake, but ends up looking like flatbread when done. I always liked mine with a layer of fresh fruit in it, but I could never keep it from burning to the bottom of the pan.”

  “It’s because you always just mixed them in the batter.” Githa interjected. Her words were somewhat muffled by her current position hip deep in a cupboard digging around for something in its shadowed recesses. With her head obscured she missed the exaggerated eye roll of her daughter. An eye roll that was a carbon copy of the one Joe’d see her granddaughter use on several occasions.

  Ok, Joe thought to himself. These sound like pancakes to me. I’d love some pancakes personally. “Do you need any help?” Joe asked, stepping forward in anticipation of being required. Once Githa had extracted herself from the depths of the cupboard she gave Joe a radiant smile.

  “I don’t mind, what do you think Sweety?” She lobbed the question over to Sarah who nodded enthusiastically.

  “Yeah, I wanna cook with Papa Joe.” Her declaration got looks of surprise from three of the four adults present. Joe himself was too stunned to emote at all. Half of him was touched that Sarah would call him that. The other half thought the pet name sounds like a knockoff pizza restaurant.

  Sarah must have sensed something was wrong. She began to squirm under the combined gaze of the four adults present. “It’s ok if I call you that right? You’re kinda like a dad to me. Except I already have one Dad so I can’t call you that or it’d get confusing.”

  “Papa’s just fine.” Joe cut in, a smile slowly spreading across his face. He held out an arm and the little cat girl tucked herself up to his side and gave him a hug. From the corner of his eye Joe could see Githa and Moira both tearing up. The unflappable Howe just smiled serenely over at the little tableau. After it had gone on for a moment or two, he broke the silence.

  “Well the kitchen’s not big enough for more than three people.” Howe set his hand on Moira’s shoulder. “Come on Sweety, we should go check on Sarah’s bottle. Moira started to protest, but Howe didn’t give her time for anything more than a token attempt before leading her through the living room and out the back door.

  The process of creating flip’ms was remarkably similar to pancakes, but with more oil. They were well and truly fried,coming out crispy along the outside and fluffy and warm on the inside. Joe did his best to make some fruit filled ones, but the knack was harder than he’d expected. The fruit had a tendency to sink to the bottom and burn instead of staying suspended in the batter. Even with Githa's tutelage he struggled to make a decent one. Moira still appreciated his efforts however, and tucked into her slightly blackened stack with every sign of enjoyment.

  With their hosts errands done for the day there wasn't much call to go out again, so the family passed a lazy afternoon with board games and tea. Joe of course had to be taught the rules to every new game they played. He did however get a chance to introduce the group to a childhood favorite of his; Egyptian Ratscrew. The women, all of whom shared the same competitive streak, took to the fast paced game immediately. More than a few curses slipped out as each grappled with the other two to win the whole deck of cards. Eventually Howe and Joe let themselves be eliminated so they could stand back and watch the carnage. The game was eventually called a draw when a certain little sore loser kept “accidentally” using her claws when she went to slap the pile.

  By then though it was early evening and the family decided to go for a joint walk to the park. The old familiar pattern bringing up dusty memories in Joe's mind. How long has it been since I found that contract from FAE? He thought as he watched Sarah skip while holding her mother's hand. Four months now? Six? It's definitely starting to feel like summer. Does this world have twelve months? Why don't I own a calendar? Joe had been getting increasingly confident over the last few months, so much so that for long periods of time he simply left his tutorial specs in his identification kit. Now all that confidence melted away like ice in the warm afternoon. I have got to spend more time reading. He promised himself for the millionth time. His grumpy spiral was finally interrupted by their arrival at the park.

  The green space shared the same fantasy yet modern look the rest of the world conformed to, with well manicured lawns that looked like they'd been mowed standing alongside fountains of magically hovering water. There was even a play structure that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a park back on Earth, had it not been occupied by a variety of nonhuman children scuttling about doing children things.

  With a wave from her mother Sarah ran off to join them leaving the adults to find a shady space not currently occupied by the other parental handlers around them. They ended up settling on a bench near a couple composed of a female lamia and a dark pink lamnatta shaped to suit. The pair were sitting arm in arm with their tail tips gently intertwined as they watched an electric pink lamnatta girl chase Sarah around.

  “How old is your little one?” the lamia asked, looking over as they settled themselves down.

  “Six and a halfish,” Moira responded, slipping her hand into Joe’s after he’d gotten comfortable. “Yours?”

  “Ellie’s seven. It’s good she’s found someone her age to play with. I’m Rachelle by the way, and my husband here is Geller”. Rachelle gestured towards the pink lamnatta next to her who waved at them.

  “Hello,” Geller said simply. With the pleasantries over, he faced forward once again to keep an eye on their child. Ellie and Sara had apparently become fast friends and were now engaged in a deep conversation of their own as they dug as deep a hole into the playground bedding as they could.

  “We haven’t seen you around here, are you visiting?” Asked Rachelle, apparently perfectly at home being the one to carry the conversation between her and her husband.

  “Yeah, visiting family.” Moira responded, falling into chatting with the woman like a born extrovert. Joe sat back, just as content to let the two women talk as Geller was.

  The two fast friends were shin deep in their endevor when trouble started brewing. Another child, this one with the pointed ears and equine features that just screamed ‘elf’ to Joe, came over and began kicking dirt back into their hole. While Joe couldn’t hear what was being said, the self assured posture and waiving hands picked the child out as a born and bred fun police.

  As Joe watched, Ellie must have said something to draw the ire of their tormentor because the boy took an aggressive step forward and leveled his hand like he was going to punch the lamia/lamnatta girl. Whether he actually would have or not was academic really, as he never got the chance. Faster than Joe thought possible, Sarah was up and between her friend and the bully. With one almighty shove she sent the boy sprawling onto his back where he started up the waterworks.

  Joe hauled himself up and began making his way over. Well fuck, what do I say? ‘You shouldn’t have pushed him Sarah, even though he was being a little shit and totally deserved it. Maybe go with the ‘you should have come gotten an adult’ angle. Like I hadn’t been watching it the whole time and should have gotten off my ass sooner. By this point the would be playground police had finally worked their way to their feet and run off to an older looking elven man who, like Joe, had been making his way slowly over. Joe was just in time for the tearful, and wildly embellished, story the boy fed his guardian.

  Said guardian crouched down, looked him dead in the eyes and said, “Laolas, you kinda deserved that. I saw what happened and you acted like you were going to punch her friend. What did you think was going to happen? Why don’t you go over and apologize to them for trying to fill in their hole.”

  “But they’re not supposed to do that!” Laolas whined.

  “Is it your job to decide what they do?” The older elf asked. Laolas didn’t respond at first, choosing instead to dig his toe into the dirt of the play area. Eventually he got his ear flicked by his guardian which finally broke his stonewall.

  “No,” he responded quietly.

  “Then leave them to their parents bud.” The elf gave Joe a quick nod as he finally became aware of Joe’s presence. “Are they yours?”

  “The scrappy one is.” Joe said, pointing to Sarah who looked one hundred percent ready to give Laolas another shove. “The other is a new friend she’s made.”

  “Well let me apologize for my little brother. He’s a perfect little angel, which means he’s a pain in the ass of the highest order.” Laolas opened his mouth to say something, but his older brother gave him a look that had him shutting it again in short order.

  “Well I think we’ve all learned a lesson here.” Joe wasn’t sure what the hell that meant, but it sounded sagely enough he doubted the older elf would call him out on the bullshit phrase. Nevertheless, he moved the conversation along as quickly as possible by addressing the two girls. “Ladies, I don’t think digging a hole that deep in the playground is a good idea. What if someone came running through here and didn’t see it?”

  “We’d stop them.” Sarah piped up. “We wouldn’t want them messing up our hole.”

  “Sarah…” Joe said, injecting as much borrowed authority as he could into the name. He could see the internal struggle behind her eyes as her stubbornness warred with her better judgment. This time Joe prevailed and the two friends filled in the hole before running off to play some other game. Joe gave Laolas’s brother a nod before ambling his way back to his seat. Moira gave him a look as he approached, but Joe waited to close the gap before answering her unspoken question. “Sarah was standing up for her new friend and I wanted to make sure it didn’t get out of hand.”

  “That’s really nice of her,” Rachelle said, leaning out and around to talk to Joe past Moira. “Poor little Ellie has trouble standing up for themselves. It’ll do them good to have a strong role model, even if it’s only for a little while.”

  “Them?” Joe asked, once again letting his tongue get ahead of his brain. Thankfully Rachelle didn't seem to be put off at all by the question. In fact she perked up, seeming excited to share the knowledge with others.

  “Oh yes. Lamnotta colonies like Ellie and Geller here don't settle on an expressed gender until they are at least twenty years old. Even then it's more of an expression than an actuality.” Here she turned and patted her mate's scaley pink tail. “Geller could still be a mama if he wanted to.”

  “I do not.” Geller affirmed. Rachelle's touch had pulled him away from watching the children, and he picked up the explanation from there. “Since we are colonial animals, we do not have a set gender. However it is traditional to select one at the onset of adulthood.”

  “Ah,” was about the only intelligent thing Joe could think to say. Thankfully Rachelle swept the conversation along and Joe’s little faux pas was soon forgotten.

  “How long are you staying? There’s a circus coming into town and we’d love for the three of you to join us.”

  <><><>

  Becky wiped her hands on the less than clean rag she had commandeered from Joe’s kitchen. The last customers of the day had been gently but firmly ushered out about half an hour ago and with the completion of this last batch of conditioners Becky was officially done for the day. Beside her chair Goober snored and quietly farted to himself. The smell of chemicals and flatulence had thickened the air to the point that even the lavender scent of the finished conditioner did little to blunt it.

  Throwing the rag back onto the work table, Becky slid off her stool and made a quiet escape to the back garden. She loved that hunk of dumb, but with Goober’s current bowel concert going on she had no desire to wake him up and have him waddle outside with her to foul the fresh air. As quietly as she could, Becky slipped out the back door into the gathering night and shut the door behind her.

  ‘Garden’ may have been too grand a word for the space behind the shop, as the only plants that grew there were the more drought tolerant forms of weeds. A thin strip of bare dirt marked the path the various adventuring parties used on their way to the dungeon in the basement. Leaning back against the wall, Becky let her eyes rove over the wasted ground. In her mind she populated that back garden with ordered rows of boxes bursting with bright flowers and heady herbs. In one corner a tiny patio held an even smaller bistro set where she could take her lunch breaks in peace listening to the babble of a fountain she’d have installed in the opposite corner. Close enough to hear, but far enough away to not risk getting wet from splashes.

  Becky was so deep in her own warm fantasies that she didn’t even register the back gate was opening until it was too late.