Considering the trend, Francis expected a very pleasant awakening. She must have been NEEDING it after the night before. God knows he did back when he ran. Returning home, chilling for a bit, then plowing one of the local hoes was... cathartic. The more fight they put up, the better it felt, too. Psychologists would say that’s an inferiority complex being stimulated by sadism and force upon another living creature, but he didn’t even know half those were meant. And the other half he just didn’t care.
Sadly, as expected of the truly expected, Bridget was not needy that morning. In fact, she was still asleep by the time he stirred. He blinked the floaters, wiped off the crust... and saw, in his arms, Bridget still curled up against. She was snoring into his chest, smiling, laying flat on top of him. In fact, he raised a bit and saw his mast standing proudly between her legs... but no other warmth could be felt down there. Looks like he was being denied twice to sink balls into holes.
She snorted, and looked up... beaming at him.
“Morning,” she said, yawning before kissing him. “I was tired.”
“You don’t say,” Francis muttered, running his hands along her back. She moaned, eyes lulling shut again as she relaxed under his claws, giving into the strength and heat of those palms.
“That feels so good... You’re not even trying, and it feels so good.”
“Yeah... You were wound rather TIGHT last night.”
“I know, and I’m sorry... They were getting under my skin.” She sighed, and looked up at him. “I already told you, but they weren’t exactly pleased that we ‘ditched’ them before even meeting up with them. Then they pulled that stunt at the Chinese restaurant- then at the mall, making me look like a liar-”
“Hey, you shouldn’t have lied, then.”
“I know... It’s just... they ruined mini golf for me.”
“Oh? How? Did they expect you to be amazing at it since you’re Irish?”
“It’s a Scottish traditional game.”
“Do you think Lola knows the difference –rather cares? Speaking of, will our lovely Chinese hostess be okay?”
“She’s a jianshi. It would take a little more than a spark through her top to... take her out- mmm... Right there... So... about this weekend-”
“Cass already asked. Nothing will change my mind.”
Her eyes flashed as a mischievous smirk creased her face.
“Nothing, huh?” She pushed back a bit. And squeezed her thighs. She rubbed them together, side to side, up and down... as well as against his rod. “You sure?”
“Can’t guilt trip me. And I still haven’t decided if I want to be with you, so that’s as far as you can g-”
“Not quite... I can always do anal, after all. My virginity would remain intact and you get to have fun.”
“But would you really want that with someone that wouldn’t be ‘Mister Right’?”
She tittered, panting as her thighs rubbed more, spurred on by the rush of heat from between-
Hotter and stickier than normal.
“Oh, hell-” she blurted and jumped out of bed, rushing to the bathroom. He heard her rummage through his medicine cabinet- and sighing. “You really are a gentleman. Thank you so much for keeping pads and tampons.”
“You’re welcome?” He said, trying to sound more confident than he did... only to realize that means he needed to shower. So he marched into the bathroom as well, making her gasp. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m getting a cold shower.”
“Aw, but I was having fun-”
“Still going out with Cass!”
“Fine, then... I’m heading to my apartment, but I’ll be back. You want to go to the cafe this morning?”
“Depends on the time. Didn’t look yet.”
“I’ll let you know then.” She stopped him right before he shut the shower door and kissed him. “I had a wonderful time last night. Even with everything else.”
“I give it a B-minus. I’ve had far worse dates.”
“That first one with Cassidy, huh?”
“Oh, no. That was a solid B-tier. More like my date with Valerie.”
“Oh? Who’s that?”
“You have never met her, I assure you. She was one of the girls back when I was with the Sabels. Quiet girl that was somehow bossy and a pussy at the same time. All we did was go out to Mickey D’s then walked down by the river and that became a forty-step process. Really, I thought my time with Tiny would have been as bad, but, thankfully, I’ve grown an actually set since then and nipped that in the bud... Even then, Tiny was nowhere near as wishy-washy as Valerie ended up being.”
“Sounds like it wasn’t meant to be-”
“You could’ve fooled her! She started talking children and rings by the seventh date, all the while I was blowing my load on the coke whore under the table. She read WAY too much into that. Hell, there were some dates I blew off because I was getting it on with another in the hood.”
“I thought you said you were only ever with one-”
There was only one I considered a partner. All the others were fuckholes or F.W.B.’s.” He closed the shower at last, and the rush of steaming cold water roared over him. Bridget left only to return in work clothes, sitting in the kitchen as Francis slung on one of his old pairs of sweats and old tank top. She had two jackets on the table, one significantly larger than the other, as well as wore a tan jacket over her black top. She had a matching tan skirt, but decided to go without stockings or loafers that day, instead ending with a thick pair of boots. Crusted with horrid white stuff.
“It snowed today,” she stated. “And we are running a bit ahead of schedule. At least, by your schedule. We can easily go to the cafe-”
And hello, door. His old friend.
He huffed, and lumbered passed the archway to the kitchen, opening it for-
“Dixie?” Francis blurted... only to squint and lean closer, looking into that hole in the middle of that circle of white fur. It was added to a sleek, black coat, smattered with white as the horrid fluffy rain continued to assault the peaceful dusk. Indeed, though, he did see a pair of tusks and a cute pink face, turning red as he peered deeper inside-
Before squealing as he gripped her rump.
“It is you,” he exclaimed, and chortled as he let her go. He leaned against the doorway, watching as she spluttered and panted... relaxing as Ezra sauntered into view. “And what brings you two lovely ladies here?”
“You have lunch with me one day and decide to disappear?” Ezra said, clucking her tongue. She was even in a “jacket”, though it was more a thick, leather robe. It seemed she didn’t wear anything underneath, but at least she wouldn’t have any problems seeing with those high beams poking through. The centaur slapped the orc’s rump, making her squeak and jump and glare at Ezra, gesturing to Francis. “Well? Are you going to ask him?”
“I-I was getting t-to it-”
“No,” Francis stated.
“But you didn’t even hear what she had to say,” Ezra said.
“I’m making an assumption here, but she is most likely trying to ask for a date this weekend. My answer is no. Sorry, but Cass already asked. I am a man of my word, so I cannot decline that offer, so-”
“Good for you it’s not a date this weekend, then,” Ezra said, chortling. “Go on, Dix. Tell him what you really want?”
“Oh, if it’s too much tro-”
“Just ask, girl. Quit being a little b-”
“What’s going on?” Bridget said, leaning against Francis’s chest. “Oh my. Dixie? What are you doing here?”
“N...no reason at all-”
“She was trying to ask me something,” Francis said... and a wicked smile curled on his lips. “She was asking if I wanted to join her for the Saturnalia Dance.”
“What!” All three shrieked. Bridget’s hair crackled, the mask broken a moment, showing the ugly, brutal, jealous monster under as she glared at the orc. The overhang above crackled; snow and dust started to fall, all the while Dixie shook her head fervently.
“N-n...n-n-no! That’s not what I was g-g-g-going to ask,” she spluttered out, whimpering and panting.
“Yeah, no. That wasn’t,” Ezra grumbled, glowering at the drachen... before a matching smile spread on her lips. She eased by Dixie, shoved Bridget aside, and rested her hands on his chest, chuckling. “Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m not asking-”
“Francis Ulrich Conner is already predisposed on that day,” Bridget declared, pushing Ezra back as she reclaimed his chest. “We went shopping for his suit last night.”
“Yup. We got two,” he said. “No idea who I’m going to be with, but I’m going.”
Bridget exclaimed, taken aback by his honest statement.
“Francis... It’s going to be me.”
“It is? I don’t remember agreeing, nor you asking. In fact, the only one that did ask was Ezra.”
“It was implied, Francis. That was the intention of purchasing the suits-”
“It was?! I don’t remember talking about it before going shopping. You simply stated you wanted to take me clothes shopping and get me nine pairs-”
“Yet you still wear those ratty things,” Ezra said, shivering.”I’m cold just from looking at you.”
“Really? Because I’m feeling rather hot looking at you two. Especially you, Dix.” He stepped out of the apartment, looming over the orc as she pressed back into the rail. She averted her gaze, and the rail rattled from how hard she shook... Meanwhile, the other two had their eyes on him, and saw the steam rise from where the snow hit, covering him in a cloak of mist. He reached for her “chin”, and gently tugged that circle of fur his way again, having her see just how hot under the collar she was making him. “Now, what was it you wanted to ask?”
“W-well- oh my-”
“I hear that a lot.”
“I... I wanted t-”
“What’s going on here?” Tina said, shoving Francis hard enough to sway away from the orc. Now, Francis was used to the cold. Every day was cold, but can Fangs really not feel the temperature? She was still in the same, ratty clothing as always- no. Wait. She had a slightly thicker hoodie on that wasn’t so tattered.
“Tiny! I was wondering when you would show again,” he said. “How’s it been? Brother still alive? Want me to fix that?”
“I am going to ignore that.” She nodded to Dixie. “You can go. I won’t let him bother you.”
“O-oh! He wa-”
“Making a lot of assumptions here,” Francis said.
“No one asked you!” The fang growled, and swung her arm behind. “Run. Now!”
“B-b-b-but-” Dixie began, silenced as Ezra eased her behind her flank.
“You are twelve different kinds of stupid right now, Fanger,” the centaur said, fanning to Bridget. “Do you really think he’s going to do something with a professor here?”
“Professors, actually,” Penny grumbled, stepping out of the stairwell. “You really love to make that poor orc all antsy, don’t you?”
“Can’t help it. She’s just too cute,” Francis said, grinning wide... before sneering at the Fang. “Unlike another thing here that just gets bitchier.”
“Okay! I admit, I may have overstepped-” Tina said.
“May have! May have... Maybe in comparison to a certain professor, but, as usual, you love to overreact.”
“Look... I may be a bit... stressed right now. Mid-terms are coming up, and-”
“A lot of people, actually,” Bridget said, waving to Dixie. “Which is why it’s surprising to see you here. You must be booked from sunset to sunrise.”
“She would be, but I forced her to open up some time,” Ezra said, clapping the orc’s shoulder. “Now go on ask him already so we can all go.”
“R-right,” Dixie said, and took a deep breath. She stood up so proud... already quaking again before she let it go, looking up into Francis’s eyes. “I... I was simply wondering if you’d like to have lunch together.”
“... That’s it?” Tina said. “That’s what this all was about?”
“It’s a big deal for her,” Ezra stated. “You did good, Dix.”
“Eh. She did better during orientation,” Francis said. “Then again, I guess different environment. Far more... stabby people here... Sure. I’ll go to lunch with you-”
“But we are due at the cafe now,” Bridget said, tugging him. “Come along, Francis.”
“Whoa whoa! Pushy aren’t you?” Penny exclaimed. “You had him all night; think you want to allow him some space to, you know, BREATHE?”
“This doesn’t concern you, Penny,” Bridget said, turning Francis to head down the steps. Stopped by the wizard. “Again, this does not concern you.”
“I feel that it does,” Plank stated, and blue flames frothed from the runes on her staff. “Read the atmosphere, idjut. He doesn’t want to go with you right now.”
“I think it is you who must ‘read the atmosphere’. If he had a problem, he would have said so. Francis isn’t some child that needs another to speak for him-”
“Then what are you doing right now?”
“Explaining because he doesn’t need to waste his breath on the obvious-”
“Yet you do? Deflection much- HYPOCRISY much?”
“I am no hypocrite. I have made my intentions and feelings bare since we met. He knows how I am-”
“Yet he only knows through rose-tinted glasses, doesn’t he?”
The mask completely shattered, and once more Francis saw the angry, vindictive bitch that was in Cassidy’s parking lot. Her hair flashed white, and the stairs above AND below collapsed. Yet the ones above fell faster upon the wizard, trapped in between the concrete-
Resting beside them, leaning against Tiny.
“Are you mad?” The Fang exclaimed. “Have you all gone mad!”
“Aw. You ruined my favorite show,” Francis said.
“You... You! It’s all your fault. All of this.”
“Now now. I made a promise. I wouldn’t fuck with anyone unless they fucked with me.” Francis sighed, and eased Bridget off of him.
“F-Francis-” She began-
Silenced as he slapped her cheek. It wasn’t a hard slap, little more than a graze, but enough to make it clap.
“That is for putting my friend in danger,” he stated. “I might not have liked being lead, but there was food involved and you are kind enough. I didn’t mind... wholly... The moment you decided THAT little stunt, though, well-”
“Whatever you have in mind, don’t,” Tina said. “It’s done and over with. Everyone is fine... Don’t do anything you will regret.”
“Well, you see, that’s sort of the problem.”
Bridget gasped, and looked down at the hole in her chest. And the arm protruding from it. Francis’s arm. Her face pale, blood seeping out of her lip as she looked up into his eyes, lost behind a veil of flame.
“I don’t regret anything.” He said, and opened his mouth wide, biting down upon the witch’s neck. With one, quick chomp, her head was severed and tossed aside, lost to his continued frenzy. Her arms, her breasts, her chest; each one ripped away, tossed aside. His growls grew, enjoying it a bit too much. It was quite fortuitous his pants were as baggy as they were, for he loved to tear apart a dear virgin maiden.
All that were left were the insipid lips below and her legs, left whole as he tossed them into the parking lot as well. He lapped his fingers clean, pulled the flesh out from under his nails, smiling so smugly at the Fang.
“Want to know the best part?” He said, already seeing Penny dial her phone out of the corner of his eye. “None of you will remember this. No one cares about clones.”
Any questions were lost to the screams of the orc, shrills of a pig being slaughtered... and yet, though he said he wouldn’t regret, he felt a sickening emptiness for what he had done. He picked up the head of Bridget, her eyes still open, still full of so much... love.
“Lucky for you, Eve can restore up until this moment of your memories. We can, uh, just erase this little spat outside, can’t we?” He chortled- and it already happened. The screaming stopped. The blood was gone. The walkway was repaired, and Bridget had him in the car, holding his hand. “That was fast. Holy shit.”
“What was that?” She said.
“Oh, nothing... Say, can we just swing by the golden arches instead? We’re running a bit l-”
“What do you mean? We h- oh, wow. We talked with them for a while, didn’t we... Oh, I’m sorry, darling.”
“Don’t be. It was... a treat.”
He licked his lips, still tasting her, and looked at her new body. A perfect copy save for her hair being pristine red. If only it would stay that shade... Eh. If worst comes to worst, if I really do end up with her, I can just do this all over again.
“Please don’t,” another, familiar, infuriating voice chimed in his head, and that took the last of his good mood with it. Mondays... Fucking Mondays.