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The beast’s eyes were black as the night sky, and equally vacant. He stared into them with a fierce determination, the single-minded leer of a man on a mission. Several months of research, weeks of preparation, and nearly an hour of searching had culminated into this single moment. He watched her nose twitch with rapt interest. Suddenly he was certain. Yes, this was the one.
The sales associate he had roped into assisting him had pained eyes hiding behind her pleasant smile. “Is she the one you want? Or do you want to see the others…again?”
“This is the one!” Peter Nureyev flashed his patented smile at the intrepid shopkeeper as he spoke. It was a well-practiced maneuver and it had the effect he wanted: one simple glint of his teeth in the dim lighting and he could feel several degrees of ice melt off her face. Well, either that or the relief she was feeling that he wasn’t going to ask to look at a different animal for the twentieth time was palpable.
“Great!” She pounced as though a second longer would cause him to change his mind, shoving the poor creature in a box, “I’ll get the paperwork all set up for you.”
As he waited for her to do so, he allowed his mind to wander. There were many emotions running through his head at any given moment, but chief amongst them all was excitement. He knew this was the perfect gift for Juno. He had thought of little else over the past year as he had planned. He just couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. How would his dear detective react? Would he laugh? Cry? Would he get that soft look on his face, the one that he reserved for tender movies and walks under the stars? He was determined to get a positive response from him. Understandably so, the former detective’s birthday often came with a decent amount of baggage for him, and was often a day reserved for quiet reflection rather than celebration. Nureyev hoped, perhaps selfishly, that he could give Juno one good birthday.
“Sign here, here, and here, and she’s yours.”
He snuck into his and Juno’s shared apartment with every ounce of the skillset he had achieved during his thieving career. It was unnecessary, of course, Juno wouldn’t be back for several hours. The fool’s errand he had sent him on would assure that. But it was a muscle he so rarely got to stretch these days, and it was something he relished. And if it had the additional bonus of being a boost to his ego (he was rather limber for his age, despite being long since retired) who was he to complain?
Once inside, he made his way to the bathroom, where he had stored all the necessary supplies to take care of the small beast he was welcoming into their home. Admittedly, he had originally been apprehensive when the idea was broached—likely the reason Juno had dropped the notion almost entirely—as he had never been overly fond of animals. But after seeing Juno’s soft, nearly reverent gaze at a petshop during a visit to Neptune, Nureyev’s uncertainty had disappeared. Loving Juno Steel was like loving a storm: each moment more exciting than the last, and never quite certain where the wind would take you. Fur on the couch seemed like a small price to pay for the brilliance of his wife’s smile. He sat on the bathroom rug for several minutes more than necessary like a lovestruck fool, a small grin dancing between his lips.
He opened the box and the smile vanished.
When the rabbit sunk its teeth into his flesh, a viciousness in its beady eyes that he had not thought previously possible of an herbivore, he howled and tumbled backward. He gripped his injured hand tightly to his chest and stared at the creature. Her eyes darted around the bathroom, shrinking and trembling. With fear? Anticipation? Suddenly, despite all his research and preparation, he felt woefully unprepared. He might know what sort of diet she needed, or the proper dimensions for her cage, but how could he possibly comfort a creature who couldn’t understand a word he said? Especially, according to the blood dripping from his ring finger, one that under no circumstances wished to be touched by Peter Nureyev.
Something about body language echoed in his head—some wisdom picked up many years and planets prior—and he lowered his body to a crouch, hands outstretched in the most non-threatening posture he could assume. “Now, I am certain we can come to an agreement on this mishap,” the rabbit’s eyes narrowed, “considering we will be living together for the foreseeable future.” She growled, softly. Her ear flicked. “I have...food, in the kitchen, if you’d like. Would you like that? If I went and got you some food?” Her ear flicked again as she fixed him with the most unimpressed look he had ever been on the receiving end of. “I will assume that is a...yes?” He muttered hesitantly, shaking his head slightly as he reached for the door at the ridiculousness of talking to an animal.
The second the bathroom door opened, a flash of shiny black fur whipped past Nureyev’s feet, moving at a speed usually reserved for space ships. Nureyev felt a cry float past his lips like a ghost being exorcised. A general shout of surprise and dismay ripped out of him at the sight of black paws tearing down the hall toward his immaculate living room. He took off after her without pausing to think. The earlier pride he had felt at his limberness shriveled and died upon trying to keep pace with the creature. He barely managed two strides before she was gone, faster than shadows fleeing the flick of a lightswitch.
“Rabbit?” The living room was empty. So was the kitchen. He checked every room in the house, once, twice, a frantic frenzy overtaking him every time he checked a nook or cranny that did not contain a small ball of black rage.
“I still have time before Juno gets home,” he reassured his image in the mirror as he checked the bathroom for a fourth time. He truly looked terrible, flushed and panting with exertion, his hair askew from checking under couches and inside cupboards. “She will be safely stowed for tomorrow in the bathroom by the time he arrives. I will tear this house apart if I need to. I am a master thief. I have stolen artifacts thought to be missing for millennia—I can handle locating a single tiny bunny.”
—
Juno could feel his bones disintegrating as the clerk from the fourth grocery store he had been to in the past hour fixed him with a look of utter confusion. “Can you say the name one more time?” His eyebrow twitched.
“Neptunian Ice Liquor.” He tried to force his voice to be pleasant but going so far out of its natural range just resulted in it cracking. It was taking everything in him not to shout at this poor kid. After all, it wasn’t his fault that Nureyev was both eccentric and incredibly stubborn when it came to ingredients, and apparently needed this specific liquor to make the icing work for his cake. Or something. But he was also getting real sick of getting looked at like he was some kind of an idiot over said fancy liquor.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ve never heard of that kind of spirit. Have you tried Ed’s Excellent Emporium down the road…?”
Rain streaked down in bullets as he exited the store empty-handed. He patted his coat for an umbrella and was unsurprised when he realized there was nothing to find. Growing up in the climate controlled domes of the Martian desert had made him woefully unprepared for a planet that rained. And figures, even the weather was out to get him today. Fed up and frustrated, he lifted his head to the sky. “Does anyone in this damn city sell Neptunian Ice Liquor?!”
“You lookin’ for ice liquor?”
Juno turned to see the shadiest looking guy he had seen in a while, tall and gaunt, and covered from head to toe in nondescript clothing. And looking right at him, like he actually knew what Juno was talking about. Every alarm bell in his head was going off: don’t talk to strangers, especially weird strangers that respond to you when you’re yelling at the sky, ect, ect. But still...he couldn’t imagine going home and having to admit to Nureyev that he couldn’t manage to find the one thing he had asked him for. So he straightened up, looked the stranger in the eye and grunted out something he hoped was least likely to get him mugged.
“Yeah, who wants to know?”
“I know a guy. Name’s Dimitri. You didn’t hear it from me, but he’s set up in the alley on Fourth and Locust street. He’s got all the Neptunian Ice Liquor you need.”
“O-K. Yeah, sure, buddy. I’ll take that into consideration.”
“If he asks, it’s “in the east”!”
Juno shook his head and scurried away toward the direction of Ed’s Excellent Emporium. Sure, he was fed up, frustrated, and more than a little annoyed, but there was no way he was desperate enough to check some back alley on some cryptic weirdo’s advice. He’d check around a few of the more obscure shops, find Nureyev’s liquor, and be home by dinner.
He found himself on Fourth and Locust after the shopkeeper of the sixth shop threw him out for suggesting he’d sell something like that. As Juno made his way down the narrow side road, eye over his shoulder the entire time, it struck him how familiar this seemed. The bad kind. In his early twenties kind of familiar. But hell, he was already here. Might as well see it through to the end. A big guy in a spiked leather jacket eyed him from the end of the alley, waiting until he was in speaking range to call out. “Where does the sun set?”
What the hell, right? “Uh…in the east?”
A smile stretched over his face, lazily. “Excellent. What will it be, my good lady?”
“Not your lady. I was told you had Neptunian Ice Liquor?”
“Oh, a man of distinguished taste, I see. I have some right here. It is rather...expensive, though.”
An hour later and a few hundred creds lighter, Juno found himself on the doorstep to his apartment, tired if not triumphant. He was ready to hop in the shower, bitch at Nureyev for his taste in booze, and then crawl into bed. He flashed his key at the lock pad and watched as the door slid open to reveal…
Absolute disaster.
He started so badly that he nearly dropped his hard-won prize to the concrete below. The place was absolutely trashed, it looked like someone had robbed it and then set a monster loose for good measure. His heart pounded in his throat. He rushed into the frey without a second’s thought. “Nureyev?!”
“Juno!” Nureyev’s voice was full of emotion, a familiar tone that Juno hadn’t heard in years. He sounded...scared. He lept into action, hand reaching for his blaster as he rounded the corner into their kitchen, ready to rain hell down upon whoever—or whatever—was making Nureyev sound like that. The kitchen had not been spared from the tirade that had destroyed the rest of the apartment. Bottles and jars dripped haphazardly from the pantry, and the floor was covered with a thin layer of flour and…carrots? Nureyev was crouched in the corner, and as he met Juno’s eye he could see relief wash over him, quickly followed by the scrunched face he made when he knew he was about to be in trouble for something. Juno lowered the blaster.
“Nureyev...what’s going on? What the hell happened?”
“Well...you see, my love, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this, I assure you…” he trailed off, looking from the corner of their kitchen where the sink met the stove to the small gap that was contained at the base of it. Juno followed his gaze, shooting hand nearly springing to life when his eye caught a flicker of motion. But he hesitated, instead watching carefully as a small, pink nose extradited itself cautiously from the hole. Juno’s jaw fell open as he stared into the flour-coated face of quite possibly the cutest rabbit he had ever seen.
Nureyev’s voice shook him from his stupor, a nervous grin on his husband’s features. “Surprise,” he shook his head a little, “or rather, I had meant it to be. Happy birthday, Juno.”
“Nureyev...I... what ?”
Nureyev’s face fell, looking from Juno to the rabbit, then to the destruction that used to be their kitchen. “Of...of course. I understand. I believe I have seventy-two hours, I will return her promptly....I must admit I have had quite the trouble catching her, would you be willing to return her to the box for me?”
“Nureyev…”
“And, of course, I’ll restore the apartment to its former cleanliness. It might take me several hours, but if I get started immediately I should be able to have it somewhat presentable by the time everyone arrives for the party tomorrow.”
“Nureyev.”
“I’m...I’m sorry, Juno.” The former detective watched as his husband turned away from him in an attempt to hide his shaking hands and drooping face, covering both with lilting words. “I truly imagined this going less poorly in my head. I’ll figure out a better birthday gift, something that I can hopefully obtain in time for your actual birthday, I promise I will try my best.” Juno rolled his eye. Years of experience had taught Juno that when he got like this, sometimes it was best to just let Nureyev wear himself out with the pity party. Besides, he had a cuter, furrier problem to deal with at the moment. With a grunt of displeasure from his knees he got down on the rabbit’s level. She eyed him carefully, small pink nose twitching at breakneck speed, her head barely poking out of the hole she had squeezed herself into.
“Hey there,” he cooed. “Little guy...why don’t you come on over here, we’ll get that flour off of you.” The creature regarded him with quiet suspicion, nose twitching rapidly as she blinked up from her tiny cave. “I’ll even cut you a deal, I promise not to bite if you don’t.” He punctuated the sentence with a smile as the bunny’s demeanor seemed to soften, body untensing enough to let her take a hesitant hop forward, sniffing at Juno’s outstretched hand. “There we go,” he —most definitely did not coo— out. Her ears were soft as velvet as he scratched softly behind them, and moments later he had a flour sprinkled ball of fluff tucked securely under his arm.
Turning to face Nureyev, he found the man already gaping at him, an accusing finger outstretched. “I chase that, that ruffian around the apartment for hours , and you come home and she’s letting you hold her within five minutes?”
Juno laughed. “Look, Nureyev, don’t take it personally, you’re kind of scary from a rabbit’s perspective! She probably took one look at your incisors and decided she was going to be lunch.” Nureyev let out an affronted noise and it only served to widen Juno’s grin. The rabbit was warm in his arms, heavy and fragile all at once, flour serving to color her coat the dusty grey to perfectly blend into his heavy knit sweater. He stared at her for a long time, suddenly struck by the realization that not only was she real, but she was his. Nureyev had bought him a rabbit.
Nureyev seemed to immediately sense the change of atmosphere, his mock indignation melting into something much sincere and vulnerable. “I suppose I won’t be making any returns tonight then, dear detective?”
A choked noise escaped him, something that was sort of like a laugh and sort of like a sob. The tears threatening to brim up in his good eye were quickly dealt with by a swipe of his sweater sleeve. He decidedly avoided Nureyev’s gaze as he spoke. He knew if he looked at him then, looked at that soft, expectant face of his, he would burst like a supernova. “God, no, Nureyev. I mean, look at her, she’s perfect.”
“Oh, Juno.” Arms were suddenly around him as his husband surged forward, and he had to really work to stop the waterworks from soaking Nureyev’s expensive-looking shirt. Despite his appearance, Nureyev always gave great hugs. It was like he was using every inch of his limber frame to hold Juno close, safe and warm. A lady could live in a world like that: safe in the arms of a man he loved so much it made his chest ache sometimes. He could have stayed like that forever, if the bundle in his arms didn’t start squirming in protest. He reluctantly pulled away, laughing slightly at the glare of distrust she was fixing on Nureyev—she really did not like him yet.
Nureyev eyed her with a similar distrust, but a good-natured crinkle in the corner of his eyes gave away his lack of actual resentment. “What are you going to name her, dear?”
“Hm. How about ‘Little Guy’?”
“Absolutely not.”