Four Plus Two
By Syrynn

	Where the hell is she?

	Spyke Celsare looked at his left wrist. He blinked and shook his head, in utter disbelief that the displayed time was accurate. He pulled a flip-screen cell phone out of his right-side khaki pants pocket, checking the displayed time on the device against his wristwatch. Both read 7:57 PM. Then, as a final measure of assurance, he looked up at the clock above the busy hedgehog cashier’s quilled head. 7:57 PM as well… that had to be right, if so many timekeeping devices were saying the same exact thing.

	Calm down, Frost. You told her eight o’clock… it ain’t even that late yet. She’s probably just finishing up practice.

The arctic wolf sat alone in Tallahassee’s most popular coffee house, the Bunker, drumming his furred fingers on the mahogany table and fidgeting upon his cushioned stool. Normally, on FBA game nights, the place was pretty packed; hundreds of dollars couldn’t buy you a seat as the twenty televisions wrapping along the top of the coffee house walls displayed not only every game that evening, but also every sports network known to the furdom.

Spyke looked around and blinked, rubbing his eyes to shake off a slight grogginess. His first couple of months as a professional basketballer had been quite eventful. First, there was the trip to Las Vegas, Nevada, in order to watch the FBA draft as a candidate. He felt confident in his chances of being selected, but after the forty-eight picks were announced, the wolf had remained undrafted, his fate left to the twenty-four clubs who would hold camps or other events to finalize their preseason rosters.

Edmonton had allowed him to spend time with their squad in their game against Underwood College. He’d played alongside rookies Lenny Hicks and Shou Masaru, though failed to make the roster despite a fair showing with the exhibition squad. He knew, however, that his chances weren’t wasted, and thanked the organization for their consideration. Now, it was all about waiting for the D-League to come calling.

When the FBA preseason opened, Spyke got back into contact with the Totems organization. This call wasn’t about a roster spot, however; the wolf had offered to perform the Canadian National Anthem during their regular-season home opener, as a tribute to their kindness. When told the team had already lined up a singer for that game, Spyke merely switched his offer to the next home game. The Totems brass immediately agreed to this request, assuming that the lupine’s Nashville upbringing likely meant good things regarding his voice.

Only, Spyke couldn’t tell them that his voice was terrible. It just wouldn’t be right of him to admit that he sucked at singing. They probably wouldn’t believe him anyway. The wolf had to just grin and bear it, knowing that he’d gotten himself into this one.

November 11, 2012 came rather quickly, and signified the Totems’ second home game is as many days. Spirits at Bete Noire Pavilion were rather dampened by a resounding loss to the Biloxi Voodoo the night before, and the Totems brass figured to help their fans recover with a beautiful, Nashville-inspired rendition of ‘O Canada.’ Spyke had nervously tried to back out, knowing full well he’d completely butcher it with his howling, raspy voice. But the Totems weren’t willing to buy Spyke’s excuse of a migraine headache. The wolf had no choice but to perform.

And perform he did. He’d tried his best, but two minutes later, after an unbelievably rough, ungodly bad performance, the crowd found it incredibly hard to stifle tears of laughter and the urges to vehemntly boo the wolf. Scatters of polite applause filled the Pavilion, and Spyke quickly ran out of the arena, more embarrassed than he’d ever been. And it only made things worse when T.Matt Latrans announced his name, and reason for singing, to the crowd… on continental TV no less!

So, after making a total ass of himself for audiences in both Canada and America, the white-furred wolf had to come back home and face the music, literally and figuratively. Clips of his flubbed performance went viral on FurTube, even making it as the “Worst of the Worst” for two weeks on FSPN’s Sportscape. Spyke was a joke around the basketball world… he found it hard to even go to a basketball court, much less an FBA game.

Then, he took a chance and went to Nashville. He brought plenty of booze, ready to drink away the pain in case of any anxiety, or even rowdy fans ready to crack a joke at his expense. It was the Moonshiners’ first televised game, and the first time Spyke had thought of going anywhere near an arena since his debacle. He sat down in his half-court seat, already having to deal with the crowds and food vendors recognizing him and taunting him with howling. 

But that’s when he happened upon her: Tazel Tawner. Mmmm, the name alone could’ve brought him to his knees by the end of the night. Once a menace on the basketball court herself, the lithe, gorgeous, blue-furred, four-armed vixen had retired from her playing days and taken the Tallahassee Typhoons coaching job. Spyke didn’t know if it was the couple of beer bottles he’d already downed in frustration, or a sudden swell in confidence from seeing such a lovely vixen, but for some reason, he’d decided to talk to her, purely on a whim.

She knew who he was. The wolf knew that much, even in a slightly lush state of mind. He’d popped a peppermint nervously, to get the alcohol off his breath, and then watched helplessly as she flipped for the scent of his mints. Not only did he smooch his maw, but she even snuck away with the rest of his case of peppermints. Spyke didn’t have time to care, though; the femme fatale had done more than enough to distract him from simple candies.

“Eheh… erm… those are mine…” the wolf stammered, as the blue vixen stared at him with an adorable grin on her face. When he finished talking, she slipped yet another kiss up against his snout and grabbed under his chin with her lower-left hand, petting over his ears with her upper-right hand and fuzzling his cheeks with the other two hands.

“Oh, were they?” the femme cooed in his ear, sure to use all four hands to fuzzle that lupine head into a state of careless bliss, each devilishly soft drum of her fingers against his fur and skin causing tons of little purr-like rumbles to escape the love-drunk canid’s maw. Tazel shifted the wolf’s head toward the game happening on the court, and they watched the action together for quite some time, the four-armed vixen continuing to idly stroke and fuzzle Spyke’s head in her grips. The two conversed casually for much of the game, occasionally sharing bottles of peppermint schnapps and Southern Comfort. The wolf didn’t seem to mind all the attention, especially the more alcohol he drank.

After the game ended, both wolf and vixen eventually came to their senses, and as Spyke leaned back up with a visible blush on his snout, he looked at Tazel. Words failed both of them, but the two parted silently, tails both wagging with glee. They both knew… they had to see each other again sooner, rather than later.

The unfortunate part of the matter was that Tazel had a full-time job taking care of her Typhoons, running practices and such while Spyke had to sweat out waiting for a team to come calling. It was virtually impossible for the pair of canines to set up even a casual coffee meeting, much less any sort of date. The wolf kept in touch with his new crush via e-mail correspondence, but even that wasn’t as frequent as he would have liked it to be.

A week passed, and the wolf was back in his Valdosta apartment, laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. He was ready to give up on his dream and go out looking for a standard job. Not only would he be unable to play in the FBA, but now he could say goodbye to any chance of being with Tazel. Just as he was about to get up and drive around town for applications, when his cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID… private number. He picked up the ringing phone without hesitation, though a slight sense of defeat was evident in his frowning snout.

“Spyke Celsare speaking,” the wolf droned, expecting another random telemarketing call.

“Ah, Mr. Celsare! We’ve got some good news for you!” came the growly voice on the other end.

“I can save thousands on car insurance?” The lupine sneered as he made the remark, knowing full well how these calls tended to go.

“Well, erm… I’m not sure how the Peachtrees can help with auto insurance, Mr. Celsare, but we can certainly help your basketball career!”

“R-really? I’m so sorry… that just sounded straight out of a-“

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not the first person to say that when we gave them the call. Listen, we wanted to let you know so you had a month or so to move down here and set up base. You would like to play for Georgia, wouldn’t you? I know it’s not the big leagues, but we’ll hang on to you until we feel you’re ready for the FBA. We got a deal?”

“A-absolutely! I can be down there next week.”

“Good. We’ll be waiting for you, Frost. Until we meet in person.”

The wolf yipped happily as he heard a clicking sound on the other end, signaling the end of the call. Defeat had turned into victory in the span of a single minute! Cliché, yes, but it was finally happening! He still had a chance with his dream vixen, as remote as it still was! He still went out that day, but he had a completely different purpose than job applications.

Another week passed. Spyke was given a ticket to watch the Western Conference champion Bikers travel to Spokane, and took the chance immediately. A week of practice with his new teammates had given him more confidence in going out to the basketball court, not to mention… the potential to find Tazel at the stadium hung in the back of his mind, a huge driving point in the wolf’s decision to make the trip.

And, whether by sheer coincidence or blind luck, his half-court side seat was, yet again, right by that four-armed vixen! The wolf waggled his tail at the femme and held up some more peppermint schnapps, an offering quickly met with four arms grabbing the alcoholic drinks, stowing them for later drinking, and grabbing the wolf’s head for more four-handed fuzzlings.

The game that night was pretty much a repeat of two weeks prior, most of it spent with Spyke’s head tucked in the vixen’s arms. The lupine’s maw emitted constant chitters and rumbles, what with the loving attention he was receiving. Neither of them really cared about the game, preferring to bask in each other’s company.

After the game, the two sighed and once again started to part, but suddenly, Spyke turned around and whined softly, drawing Tazel’s attention toward him.

“Tazel. Don’t go yet,” the wolf begged, eyes and tail drooping sadly.

“But Spyke, I have to get going or I won’t make my flight, sweetie,” she chimed, fuzzling his cheeks with her lower arms and giggling. “Silly wolf.”

“Seriously, I have something for you.” He fished a hand into his pocket, pulling out a ring case. He then handed it to the vixen’s upper left hand, smirking. Tazel’s eyes opened wide as she pried the case open, revealing dozens of tiny peppermint candies.

“S-Spykie… are these…”

“Yep. Mints. I know how much you love them.”

“O-oh.” Her eyes drooped back down, a twinge of sadness creeping into her expression. “W-well, this is exceptionally sweet, dear, but…”

“You expected more?” The wolf wagged his tail and snickered, pointing to the black case-bottom. “Lift it.”

Tazel did as she was asked, her jaw dropping as the hidden compartment beneath the dozens of candies revealed a golden ring, with a mint-green emerald set squarely atop it. The femme took the ring in a hand and slipped the disc across her upper-left ring finger, blushing profusely and whimpering at the wolf in front of her. She silently put all the mints back where they belonged, closed the case, and pocketed it while her other three arms snagged Spyke’s snout, drawing him in for a deep, passionate kiss that lasted at least twenty seconds. Twenty eternal, blissful seconds…

“B-but why?” she murmured, cheeks still flush with embarrassment.

“Because, I like you.” The wolf stayed confident, despite the vixen’s fuzzling hands being ticklish to his skin. “Won’t you at least try a coffee date? Even just once? We can just be friends if it doesn’t work out.”

Tazel whimpered at the reply, letting go of the lupine’s snout and crossing her arms in front of her stomach. She tapped a paw on the floor and shook her head. “T-this whole time, you thought I’d date you… of all the…” Suddenly, she snagged Spyke’s muzzle and kissed him once again, even more passionately than before! “Nnngh, okay. I know that isn’t your whole reason, and you’re just a big sweetie, so drop by the bunker on Friday and we can have coffee together. Eight PM; don’t be a second late, handsome.”

“Deal. S-see you then~” he churred. Finally, the two parted, tails sneaking around one another in a sort of canine ‘handshake’ to cement the deal. For the third time in as many weeks, Spyke had found his luck, and romantic life, taking a turn for the better! He didn’t know if it was Tazel’s doing or not, but everything was coming up minty for the wolf.

“Are you awake? Hello~ Frostykins?”

Spyke’s head whipped to the left upon hearing a distinctly feminine voice whisper a lilting tune in his ear, finding a very familiar blue muzzle staring back at him! He then looked at his watch… 8:23! He had been in a dreamy reverie for almost a half-hour… it was a wonder Tazel hadn’t left him sitting there! Though, the way she suddenly grabbed his muzzle and shook his snout around definitely surprised him more.

“T-Tazel! I’m so sorry…” Spyke’s ears drooped as he whined audibly, slapping his cheeks to make sure he was awake.

“It’s okay! You must’ve been daydreaming, you silly wolf~” she hummed, patting his head gently and taking the last empty seat across from her date for the night. “You stay there, dear, and I’ll go put in our order. Two large, mint Irish coffees, one for each of us, okay?”

Spyke nodded silently. He still showed plenty of signs of fatigue, eyes droopy and cloudy as he struggled to stay awake. He was so tired… and yet Tazel was still so vibrant and active! He found it a miracle she could be so perky at this hour… and soon enough, he figured it out: coffee. Must be all those minty coffees of hers.

Fifteen minutes later, the vixen returned to the table with two quart-size, hot and foamy mugs, one in each upper arm. She set one down in front of the barely-awake lupine, sat down and began blowing into her mug to begin cooling down the liquid inside. The aromas around the pair took on an almost intoxicating blend of mint and crème, causing Spyke’s drooping muzzle to perk up the longer it hung around their table. And when the wolf finally showed signs of life around her, Tazel grinned and fuzzled his cheek with a lower arm, pointing the upper arm on that side down to his coffee mug.

“Drink up, hon!” she teased, snickering at his still-hesitant state. “This stuff is delicious. You don’t want me to drink it in front of you, now do you?”

The wolf rubbed the back of his neck and blushed heavily, picking up the fragrant mug in his paws and taking a hesitant sip. The moment the liquid hit his mouth, he felt… a strange, almost brain-washing sensation splash across his taste buds. The blends of minty crème and delicious Arabica coffee tantalized his senses, causing a sudden surge of energy to shoot through his blood and almost immediately make him look as perky as the vixen across from him!

“Good, ain’t it?” Tazel smiled knowingly at her date, flicking his nose and shaking her head disappointedly. “You should’ve had one before I came, you sleepy boy! I’m glad you snapped back to reality!”

“Nnnnf… no wonder you love mints like life itself…” Spyke winked playfully at the vixen, taking another large, gluttonous gulp of the sinfully delicious coffee. “I’m gonna have to come here more often.”

“Good! You’ll run into me a lot more often if you make the trip down here.” She grinned and guzzled down the delicious concoction in several consecutive glugs, panting when she reached the end of her drink and grumbling sadly. “Where do you live again? I can’t remember if you told me.”

“Valdosta, Georgia… it’s about an hour or two from here. I couldn’t make the trip every day, of course, but maybe we should make this a weekly thing… come down to the bunker on Friday nights and drink some of these mint Irish coffees. You think we can do that?”

Tazel smirked playfully and fuzzled the wolf’s snout with all four arms, then paused for a minute or so while the male finished off his drink with a deeply satisfied sigh. “If you promise not to spend every Friday dreaming about me for the first twenty minutes of our date, then I don’t see any harm in it!”

“So, shall we call it a date? Fridays at eight PM?”

Tazel snickered and shook her head. “Dates? Nah. Just two good friends sharing coffee, spending time together under a cozy roof and, hopefully soon, chatting it up about their time in the FBA.”

“Cheers to that, gorgeous.” They both blushed hotly at that remark, clinking their empty mugs together to seal the deal. They then spent about an hour in the coffee house, chatting about their current lives, dreams and aspirations, favorite foods, and basically getting to know each other further than just a few teasing snout-fuzzlings here and there at basketball games. When the night was over, Spyke walked Tazel to her car, slipping a fifty-dollar bill into her pocket before giving her snout a fond smooch good-night. And as the vixen drove away, the white-furred wolf churred lazily and wagged his tail, still love-drunk from both the coffee and the blue vixen.