Nate watched in rapt fascination as the ambulance pulled into one of the garage bays of Talbot Restoration. Curious as to why the ambulance backed up and the door bay closed; the seventeen year old werewolf slowly made his way to the shop. Having to walk slowly and with the help of a cane; Nate missed seeing Peter, still in his were-lion fursona hop out of the back of the Ambulance. Followed by his were-rabbit mate Helen Thompkins; she was Peter’s doctor at first, yet after being given the wrong were-birth control pills, the doctor had an intense heat cycle and was subconsciously drawn to Peter. At first she thought the were-lion was boorish, brash and plain lewd with his advances towards her; yet after being locked in a hospital safe-room and made to ride out her heat cycle, those advances turned into some of the best pick-up lines Helen ever heard.
“You sure this will work,” Peter looking at his father as he carefully stepped down onto the concrete floor; slightly cringing as his paw pads made contact with the cold hard surface.
“If any of those trolls followed you,” Leon implying the reporters hanging about town; “all they will see is an ambulance backing into a garage. They will assume that said ambulance is due for some routine maintenance.”
“Not far from the truth,” the driver getting out; Nate seeing the man whose arm is in a sling approaching Helen and Peter. Seeing Peter looking at the man for a moment but not exhibiting his territorial urges in protecting Helen; Nate looked on as Leon took the keys from the driver.
“The ambulance is due for an oil change,” the driver continuing; “and the brakes have been feeling soft for some time now.”
“We can easily take care of both,” Leon commenting; “yet Talbot Restoration doesn’t have a contract with Moon Lake Hospital in dealing with their fleet of vehicles.”
“Your son is shaking up with my sister,” the driver looking serious at Leon; “my twin sister. Plus consider looking after those two issues as repayment for helping you sneak Peter out of the hospital.”
“Andy,” Helen sighing as she shakes her head; “don’t piss off the were-lion king. And Peter isn’t shaking up with me,” Helen adding; “our were-wedding, unconventional it may have been, means Peter and I will be getting our own place. I highly doubt there will be room for the both of us here; at least in the long term.”
“Okay,” Leon answering; “ignoring Helen’s admonishment to her brother; “stay for dinner?”
*******
“You three just couldn’t resist yourselves,” Benton watching as Frieda, Eric and Spencer filed into the dining room; the three in their fursona’s and clearly giving off a strong scent of their lust filled activities they have upstairs.
“If either you or mom have a rough day,” Frieda looking at her father; “would either of you desire comfort from your mate’s paws?”
“You had a hard day,” Amanda looking at Frieda after spraying the room with a scent neutralizing spray; a desperate attempt to stifle the aphrodisiac scent currently being given off of the three.
“Eric did,” Frieda answering; “and dad already knows about it.”
Benton paused as he was about to say something; remembering what Eric said earlier as Frieda and Spencer played with the three Doberman Puppies Amanda picked up earlier; Benton could sort of feel some sympathy towards the white furred were-panther currently sitting next to his daughter. He was about to speak, when Frieda started telling Amanda everything that happened at school today. From Eric getting placed in senior level classes, to having to deal with an unpopular teacher and three were-elephant bullies that tried to intimidate him.
Fortunately for Eric, he didn’t have to expand on what was just mentioned as George the Knight’s butler brought out the pork tenderloin that Ethel was cooking earlier. Followed by an assortment of buttered vegetables, Yorkshire pudding with gravy and baked potatoes. Drooling as he felt extremely hungry; Eric had to hold back the temptation of lunging at the food with his paws. He wasn’t the only one to find the food aromas intoxicating; both Frieda and Spencer could be seen licking their lips, their green feline like eyes belying a predatory glint among them as they watched George finish placing the food on the table.
*******
Back at the Talbot household, the dining room table used during large family gatherings such as Christmas and Thanksgiving was busy being set up by Leon, Jean and Helen. Leaving Regina alone in the kitchen as Nate sat in the living room with both Peter and Andy. Sipping on a glass of cold iced tea with a lemon wedge; Nate was alarmed to see Peter throwing caution to the wind as he had a bottle of light beer clutched in his paw. Being of legal age, Peter was allowed to imbibe on a cold brew or any other alcoholic beverage; yet as a were, liquor was something that had to be consumed in small quantities. Unlike a normal person, a were got drunk a lot quicker. Thus most chose to abstain from booze except the odd occasion; for fear of not causing a scene.
“Don’t be knocking those back as if they were tic-tacs,” Leon overhearing Peter’s happy sigh as he took a long pull from the beer bottle; “two is the limit for you.”
“Should you be drinking so soon after being shot,” Nate looking at the were-lion drinking.
“I’ve practically dined on bland hospital food since Sunday,” Peter answering; “before that it was an I.V drip and simple broths that again had no flavor. A chance to drink a beer before dinner is not something I intend to pass up.”
“As a naturally born were,” Andy speaking up; “I can never understand the desire of our kind to consume what is technically a poison.”
“It’s no different than watching some of the medical staff,” Peter looking at Andy; “smoking cigarettes at the picnic tables by the side entrance.”
“That’s even worse,” Andy grousing; “you know how many carcinogens are in cigarettes? Enough to-”
“You should know,” Helen looking at her brother after cutting him off; “weren’t you smoking two packs a day around this time last year?”
“I’ve cut back,” Andy grumbling; “I’m down to half a pack a day now.”
“And I bet that has increased after your arm got broken,” Helen commenting; “you know I can easily get the answer from your wife if you try to lie to me.”
Andy grumbles some more as he pulls out a pack from his pocket; grabbing a cigarette and lighter, he tosses the pack at his sister and stomps out to light up outside. Nate staying silent as Helen looks at the pack and nonchalantly tosses it in the trash can.
“If I had my way,” Helen coming back to the dining room table; “he’d be quitting cold turkey.”
“Was it half a pack,” Peter smirking as he placed his empty beer bottle on the nearby end table; "after all, I've seen him by those picnic tables sucking those cancer sticks back many times as i looked out my hospital room window."
“Does it matter,” Helen snorting; “Andy is smoking his last cigarette for the day. This is not the first time I took his pack away and tossed it in the bin.”
“You torment your brother just as much as I do,” Jean giggling.
“I do it,” Helen looks at the were-lioness in front of her; “because he already has a daughter. Before Andy became a father, he was a notorious smoker and on his way to emphysema. You torment Peter just for the sheer grins,” Helen describing the difference.
“Enough you two,” Leon speaking; “Jean help your mother in the kitchen. It smells like supper is nearly ready.”
*******
“You haven’t told us what extra courses you are taking this year,” Amanda looking at her daughter shoveling food into her maw. Watching as Frieda along with Spencer and Eric savagely attacked their plates of food after George started parceling out the first helping.
“I dropped drama class,” Frieda speaking; “after last year with Julie’s antics, I had my fill with drama. Everything else is pretty much the same from last year.”
“Not quite the answer your mother was looking for,” Benton speaking between bites of food; managing to control his desire to wolf his meal down as quickly as possible.
“Well other than drama,” Frieda rolling her eyes; “nothing changed scholastic wise for me. Plus I never cared for that class to begin with,” Frieda ripping her Yorkshire pudding in half with her fork and knife; “nothing but gossip this, gossip that with fair weather friends that only hanged around me for social status. After Julie’s attempt to attack Eric last year,” Frieda pausing from eating; “they stopped hanging around me after I stopped filling them in on the latest goings on in my life.”
“Those same ditzes that tried to get chummy with me,” Spencer growling; remembering full well the drama that revolved around Julie Stovall as she tried to drive a wedge between her and Eric after Eric dumped the wer-mer for cheating on him.
“It’s possible,” Frieda answering; “yet I wouldn’t call them ditzes. Those so-called friends can be crafty in ferreting out juicy information.”
“I’d rather you not have dropped drama,” Amanda sighing; “that class is a stepping stone for proper speaking and decorum. Two skills you seem to be lacking of late.”
“In your eyes maybe,” Frieda not afraid to fire back a smart comment; “but unlike you, I’m not interested in appearing as a vapid heiress at your latest social soirees, pretending to be interested in the complete strangers surrounding me.”
“Frieda,” Benton barking; “don’t start this again.”
“Then tell mother,” Frieda being formal when she starts getting mad; “to not bring it up because my answer is not going to change.”
Dinner fell into an awkward silence after that; Amanda scowling as Frieda shot down yet another attempt to attend finishing school after graduating. With the bond Frieda shared with Eric and Spencer; A bond that both Amanda and Benton still didn’t understand fully, such discussion usually ended in Frieda making some crass comment that made Amanda wonder where her daughter got such language.
“You know,” Benton interrupting the silence; “we still have yet to hear what Spencer and Eric are picking for their courses.”
“Home ec,” Spencer quickly answers; “plus the trial course in police sciences that is taking place this year.”
“That is an odd combination,” Benton speaking; unaware that Spencer has had dreams all through summer break where she was a police deputy or sheriff as she was older. “And you Eric,” Benton interested in what the young were-panther picked.
“Well that is a bit tricky,” Eric slowing down his eating so he could answer; “for me, the courses I have available are college level.”
“You told me that earlier,” Benton responding; “a surprise that took you aback some.”
Pausing to think, as Eric had yet to finalize what he wanted to take; he has a momentary thought of what he, Frieda and Spencer considers trivial, yet something that vexes Benton to know end. Smiling as he puts down his fork to take a drink of water; Eric looks at everyone before speaking.
“You know how the whole place starts to smell after we three,” Eric smiling slyly; “have our fun?”
“Don’t remind me,” Benton not liking where this topic is going; especially during diner.
“Well I’m curious,” Eric smiling wistfully; “if there is a way to capture that scent, analyze it and try to possibly make it into a perfume or a musk?”
“Oh god,” Amanda blanching; “just what the world doesn’t need. A synthetic version of your three’s rutting musk.”
“Admit it mom,” Frieda sniggering; “you and dad end up having a fun romp after inhaling that aroma.”
“I’m not sure creating an artificial version of what you three give off,” Benton shaking his head; “is the best way to go, career wise.”
“Not even if it makes a butt load of money,” Eric questioning; “a perfume for a couple to get extra intimate, regardless if they are a normal or a were. That would be something a business savvy man such as yourself would be interested in. You have experience firsthand what happens after we three rut,” Eric smiling as he places a paw on each of Frieda and Spencer’s thighs; “you can’t deny the potential.”