Work Text:
[Friday August 21, 2071]
In the late Friday afternoon, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows over the towering skyscrapers of Great Lake City. You finish your paper work and unceremoniously leave the embassy. As the weight of an important decision bears down on you, you set course to the one place where you can get in the right head space, the 'Tipsy Diplomat'. Unlike most bars in the Great Lakes Anthrostate (GLA), it is run entirely by and caters only to humans. A place of respite from the anthro populace. It was an initiative run by the Niagaran Embassy to make its employees feel more at home while on their diplomatic missions.
You enter the bar and are greeted by the usual suspects, Matt the server and Deborah the bartender, alongside several other workers serving drinks and pub fare to patrons. You look at one of the TVs and are reminded that tonight is the final hockey match between the London Frost and the St. Catherine's Commanders, which explains why the bar is more packed than usual. Thankfully human sporting events from Niagara are allowed to be aired in the GLA. The second period just finished and the score is 2-1 with London leading, much to the protest of almost everyone in the bar. Matt acknowledges your entrance with a nod and hastily makes his way towards your booth, likely to secure a good tip.
“What will it be, boss?”
“A Pint of Welland Lager, and can you get me a couple of napkins and a pen?”.
The server gives you a look, but obliges and returns a few minutes later with the requested items. At work, you use sophisticated spreadsheet software to navigate the complicate logistics of cross border trade, but for personal dilemmas, a pen and napkin will do just fine. You begin by taking a sip of your beer and writing 'Pros' and 'Cons' at the top, underlined, with a line separating the two columns.
'End of contract' is the first entry in the 'Pros' side. Your contract at the Niagaran Embassy is coming to an end. There is no penalty for you to not renew it, plus it shouldn't harm your career if you decide to work for the embassy again. You check your phone and see a flood of text messages that you promptly ignore. Opening the mail app, you check the draft folder to view the acceptance email you wrote attached with a signed contract extension. The file was sent to you a few weeks ago, but the deadline to accept is next week. You mull over the decision to send the email with another sip of beer, but end up putting the phone away and continuing with the list.
'Promise' is the second entry on the 'Pros' list. Before leaving your home in Tilbury you promised your two cousins that you would return to run the family's mechanic shop with them. A dream that all three of you had growing up watching your Dad and Aunt co-run the shop. Several memories flood your mind of you growing up around those cars, getting covered in grease, 'helping' your dad with the repairs. Unfortunately with the economic downturn from losing a war, the shop foreclosed and was left in a state of disrepair. This job at the embassy was meant to be a temporary measure to finance the necessary restorations to get the shop running again. The irony of working in the country that invaded your homeland and crashed its economy is not lost on you. But in the twelve years since the war, things have improved and it's now economically viable to get the shop up and running again. Since you took the job, you've been sending over a moderate portion of your check to the cousins, and in return the shop has hobbled back to life.
The secondary objective of taking this job was to set up connections with antique car exporters. Fortunately, the GLA is a vast country with several anthros discovering abandoned pre-war cars scattered across the countryside. Many of these antiques are either too small for the anthros or they're in varying states of decay and collecting dust. One such anthro, a Bengal tiger, asked for your help exporting farm equipment to Niagara. You helped her with a legal loophole that reduce her tariff fees and in return she sold you a dozen antique cars for cheap. A couple more similar transactions have transpired since you joined the embassy three years ago, keeping your cousins busy with restorations, adding another revenue stream to the shop.
The doors to the bar open and you see a distraught man wearing a collar around his neck with blood seeping through his shirt. Matt dashes towards the man, and brings him to a secluded booth at the far end of the bar, away from prying eyes. As Matt walks back to the bar you nod your head at him, a silent agreement that you will cover the bleeding mans tab. The Tipsy Diplomat is not a underground railroad for assigned men; we would all hang if that were the case. At best this bar can provide temporary shelter for men to escape the clutches of their wives and have a few pints. You wish you could do more for the man, but it would cost you and everyone in the bar dearly.
'Harassment' is the third item added to the Pro's column. After a second you rethink the wording, cross it out and add 'Safety' in its place. For the past two decades, the male anthro population in the GLA has been in decline, creating a slew of desperate women who will do anything to get a man and keep him, whether they are assigned to them or not. You've had your fair share of workplace harassment incidents, unprovoked groping, and even an attempted kidnapping. An office job in the GLA without being claimed by one of its inhabitants is far more dangerous than working back home as a mechanic. Probably explains why you get paid so much at the embassy.
The door to the bar bursts open, drawing everyone's attention towards a pissed off doberman with dried blood on her lips.
The doberman takes a big sniff in the air and bellows, “I CAN SMELL YOU IN HERE ASSHOLE. COME OUT NOW”.
The loud outburst unsettles everyone, souring the lively atmosphere of the bar. From the corner of your eye, you spot the bloodied man from earlier sink lower in his booth.
From the bar, Deborah informs the canine that her type is not welcome in the most professional manner, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BAR YOU MUTT!”.
Human women aren't particularly welcome by the GLA populace, as they are considered competition for the limited male population. The few human women that decide to live in the GLA have to adapt as they encounter nearly as much harassment as their male counterparts. Deborah with her tree trunk biceps, decades long military career, and extensive hand-to-hand combat experience, is well suited for this environment. Deborah could hold her own in a fight against the doberman, but fortunately she wont have to. A small unison chant can be heard from some of the patrons. 'beast.. beast.. beast..'. A few of the servers run back to the kitchen to assist with the preparations.
The offended canine responds, “YOU CANT TALK TO ME LIKE THAT YOU CU-”, the shouting match with the bartender is interrupted by the whole bar chanting “BEAST! BEAST! BEAST!”, with hands pounding the tables and bar in unison. You join the chant and slam your fists on the booth, making your contribution towards unsettling the dog.
If a better solution to handling a pissed off anthro exists, we have yet to find it. In the GLA, humans are treated as a second class species, even those from the embassy. If a human attacked an anthro, they would be executed by the end of the week. If a human fought an anthro in this bar and got their throat ripped out, the GLA would shut down the bar and any other human owned establishments nationwide, as a precaution. Diplomacy is not an option either, anyone stupid enough to tell an anthro looking for their husband to 'calm down' would be massacred on the spot. The only viable path for deescalation is to bruise their ego. Out of the kitchen comes one of the dishwashers, clad in a football uniform with bubble wrap and pillows taped over his body to leave no exposed zones. He sprints towards the intruder.
“WHAT THE FUCK?”, growls the bewildered dog as it swipes its sharp claws at the “Beast”, her claws connecting with one of the pillows, releasing feathers everywhere. Laughter temporarily drowns out the ominous chanting, further embarrassing the doberman. After a few more unsuccessful gashes at the fortified dishwasher, the doberman quits her assault and walks out the the bar with some parting words.
“WHEN YOU GET HOME, YOU ARE A DEAD MAN, HOWARD!”
And with her retreat, the bar returns to normal, as if nothing ever happened, expect for 'Howard' who looks mortified as he downs another pint of ale. With this whole ordeal passed, the bar attendees turn their attention to hockey game, as the final period of the hockey game begins. Meanwhile you return to the Pro and Cons list. You have exhausted all your 'Pros' for leaving the GLA and write down the first entry in the 'Cons' list. It's the only entry necessary for you to seriously consider staying in this country.
'Andrea'. With that word you reminisce the first time you meet the five foot grey fox.
About a year ago, you meet the new secretary who worked with your GLA counterparts. You distinctly remember trying to greet her only for her to walk by you, carrying two arm fulls of paperwork with headphones on. She clearly didn't hear you as you approached her from behind to introduce yourself. You ended up startling the fox and she dropped a trees worth of paper onto the floor. In a cliche fashion you helped her pick up the scattered papers, and in the process, awkwardly brushed your hands with hers a few times. In that moment she was concerned with making a bad first impression and possibly being fired. But from the moment you laid eyes on her flustered face, you knew she wormed her way into your heart, even if she didn't know it yet.
Andrea was nerdy, shy, but most importantly she was one of the few unassigned woman that didn't sexually harass you or try to make a pass at you. When you did business with your GLA counterparts, not one meeting would go by without you being cat called, and you always felt their prying eyes undress you with their sultry glances. However, Andrea would act professional in her corner of the room, staring at her laptop and typing notes or sending emails. You noticed every little nerdy thing she subconsciously did, like push her glasses up with a finger, or stick out her tongue to the right of her mouth when focusing too hard, or how her ears swivelled around the room following the source of the talking. Combined, these little quirks gave you continuous heart palpations when you were in her presence.
It came as a complete surprise to the fox (and a few of her coworkers) when you approached her after a meeting and asked her out to get drinks. You swear her cheeks turned visibly red despite being covered in fur. That earned her the nickname 'Red Fox'. A name she hates to this day. After having a few drinks you learned that she grew up just outside of the city, that she likes to read romantic novels in her bay window on the weekends, and that she giggles when you kiss her on the lips. After days of back and forth texting you asked her out again to get some coffee. While drinking an overpriced latte you worked up the courage to ask her out. The two of you are still going strong eight months later. Well, maybe not strong with this recent development.
You wish Andrea could live with you back home, it would make life far less complicated. Sadly, anthros are not permitted to reside in Niagara. The only exceptions are for temporary stays so assigned men can visit their families (assuming their wife allows it), teachers working at the pre-assignment high schools, and bounty hunters searching for escaped assigned men. Another exception would be if she worked at the GLA Embassy in Niagara, but that's on the other side of the country. Plus its highly competitive to get a job there as it permits anthros to work and live in close proximity to a wide population of eligible men. Even if it was legal for Andrea to live and work in Niagara, most of the population wouldn't accept her as they're still (justifiably) upset about the war and the harsh war reparations. With the marriage draft being the harshest pill to swallow. Hell, most of your family took a while to accept that you are dating an anthro.
The bar door opens again and Deborah welcomes another furred interloper.
“You got to be kidding me. Two in one night? GET YOUR FURRY HIDE OUT OF MY BAR!”
You turn to see the cause of the outburst and lock eyes with a very nervous Andrea. 'Shit'. As she hustles in your direction, you stuff the Pros and Cons list into your pocket and get up to drag her to a more secluded booth in the bar. You keep your distance from Howard of course so he isn't reminded of what awaits him after closing time. Several eyes stare daggers at you and the intruding fox. As you both sit down several patrons start yelling. Fortunately, their collective outbursts are directed towards the televisions and not your nerdy fox girlfriend. The St. Catherine's Commanders just tied the game in the third period to 2-2, elating the ambience of the bar.
After settling in the booth, you take a good look at Andrea. Her shoulder-length salt and pepper hair is fanned out, and matches much of the fur on her body. Her cheeks and mouth are adorned in white fur that travels down her neck into an orange-crested white underbelly. Her black-rimmed grey and orange ears constantly swivel, taking in the nearby conversations and bustling atmosphere of the bar. Her dazzling green eyes look larger than life as they're magnified by her thick rimmed square glasses. She adjusts in her seat, picking up her fluffy black-tipped tail and placing it over her lap, probably to hide the fact that its drooping.
Andrea in her nervous fashion keeps quiet, barely making eye contact with you. She must have used all her confidence to barge into this humans only bar and can't decide how to confront you, so you take the lead and begin the conversation.
“What are you doing here, Andrea?”
“Candice at the office told me that you didn't renew your contract and I wanted to talk you about it, but you didn't answer my texts. Are you breaking up with me? Did I... did I do something wrong?”.
The fox struggles to hold back the tears forming beneath her glasses. Her ears are affixed, pointing directly at you as if your response is the only thing that matters in the world right now.
“You didn't do anything wrong, its just.. you know I promised my family that this would be temporary.”
“Don't you dare say that our relationship is temporary, I know you don't believe that”.
Tears begin to drip down her face, you try to dry them up with your handkerchief but she swats your hand away and drys her face with her forearm. You've never seen the fox so riled up. Although she has made some strides in her confidence since you two started dating, this is a complete 180 from her usual demeanor.
“I've told you how important is is for me, I miss working in the shop”, you explain to Andrea.
“Do you actually miss working in the shop or do you just miss the memories of spending time with you dad? He's retired now, you aren't going to be working with him”.
She has a point there. Before you can utter a counter argument she rattles off a list of more reasons for you to stay.
“Would working as a mechanic with your cousins be more fulfilling than working in the embassy? Do.. do you even enjoy working on cars? Have you looked at the shops financials? Don't your cousins still relay on your subsidies to keep the business alive? Have you considered part time work at the embassy? The drive to your hometown is only five hours away. You could also take a flight on a regional airline which would cut the time in half.”
With how quickly and fluently she went through her list you're positive that she's practiced this speech several times before.
“You've really put some thought into this. Have you've been expecting me to leave for a while now”?
Your girlfriend sniffles and more tears add to the small rivers traveling down her face. Her voice gets low, more in line with her introverted personality.
“I know how much you care about your family and you've told me in the past that you hope to eventually return to the shop. I thought that with enough time, you would change your mind. You barely even talk about it anymore when were together. But still, I worry all the time that you will get a call from one of your cousins saying they got hurt or sick. Then you will leave me to take their place in the shop.” She pauses to sniff “You'll tell me its temporary but over time you will forget about me and not have a reason to come back. Or...”.
Andrea pauses to wipe the tears from her eyes, you reach over the table with your handkerchief for a second time. This time she accepts your offer and you clear the tears away for her before she continues.
“...Or you will lose interest in me and find some human girl who can live with you and your family.”
You should have realized how anxious Andrea was in this relationship, worrying that you could be taken away from her be it due to fate or a change of heart. When you first started dating her, you thought it would just be a temporary fling, but after spending time with Andrea, your plans to move back home settled further and further in the back of your mind. It wasn't until this contract renewal came up that you considered going through with your original plans. An immense pang of guilt sweeps over your chest, were you really going to make this decision on your own without consulting her? You knew she would be biased but you feel like a jerk for not going to her sooner to discuss this. You attempt to consul your teary-eyed girlfriend.
“I would never lose interest in you. Out of all the girls I've meet, you are the only one I want to be with”.
“Then please don't make me go through assignment to find a man. I want to be with someone who loves me, not someone who is forced to marry me. Be that person who loves me”.
“I do love you”, you tell the fox. But what is holding you back?
You ponder this feeling that draws you back to home, and reminisce about the times your dad tried to raise you as a mechanic. How you learned to do your first oil change at age eight. How he taught you to change a tire, boost a battery, and understand what each warning light on the dashboard meant well before you got your license. You cherish those memories with him dearly and always thought that he was teaching you the trade so you could follow in his footsteps. But maybe this was just his way of bonding with you. He never seemed too disappointed in you for taking the job at the embassy or for being away for several months at a time. He didn't even freak out that much when he found out about Andrea (thankfully he's more accepting of her now). After your reflection, you realize Andrea is right, you miss the memories of what home was, not its future prospects. Your mind returns to the present and you lock eyes with your future.
“How much would it cost to charter a round trip flight to Tilbury on a semi-regular basis”? You ask Andrea, confirming your decision to stay with her.
Andrea smiles and you can hear a faint chuckle emanate from her throat. Despite all the flaws with abandoning your home and original plans, you do see a future with Andrea. Maybe this can be your new home and the two of you can make new plans together. Suddenly, you feel the atmosphere in the bar change, audible cheers build up in the patrons surrounding the two of you until they collectively gasp, holding their breath in anticipation. You follow instinct and lean your head towards the fox and she mirrors your actions. As your eyes close, your lips lock and tongues greet as the entire bar breaks into a cheer and the announcers scream...
“GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL”, coupled by the sounds of several air horns blasting from every television in the bar. The whole bar erupts in joyous symphony, the St. Catherines Commanders score in the last thirty seconds of the third period. By the time the two of your finish your passionate kiss, the clock has run down and the game is officially won.
As your lips part she lets out a small giggle, a sound that you could never tire of.
“Let's head back to my place, my Red Fox”, you snort. She returns the favour by punching you, not so lightly, in the arm. You notice her adorable tail wag in delight.
As the two of you get up from the bar to spend the rest of the weekend, and possibly the rest of your lives together, a drunk man stands in Andrea's way. Before you can intervene, he reaches out his hand rubs her head and says,
“Good luck fox”.
Its not soon before the fox is crowded by bar attendees petting her salt and pepper head, like a living good luck charm, and murmuring 'Good luck fox'. Thanking her for their team winning, as if her presence in a bar hundreds of kilometers away from the rink had any impact on the game. Andrea unable to make heads or tails of the situation wordlessly and awkwardly accepts the pets as the two of you walk towards the bar to pay your bill. Any doubt you had with your decision is completely erased as you witness the bar change its attitude towards the fox interloper, as if fate wholeheartedly agrees with your decision. Even Deborah seems to nod in approval at you. Then she nods her head towards the door indicating that she will put your drinks (and Howard's) on your tab to collect another day. You and Andrea leave the bar and begin your walk home, hand in hand. You bite your tongue at the thought that you would ever consider abandoning your good luck charm.