Keeping a Kitsune Ch. 02

So, anyway, no name, credit info, or license plate number on Kylie. The clerk said she told him that she was paying cash because she didn't want her husband seeing the charges on her card; it was possible Kylie was a naughty housewife out for an affair, but that far in the mountains seemed like an odd spot to meet a lover.

Also, she didn't strike me as married, though I've certainly been wrong on that score a couple times before in my life. I hadn't bothered to memorize her license plate when I walked by before our showdown and she'd peeled out while I was still laid out from the seizure.

The clerk had let me check her room, but I hadn't found any incriminating notes or little plant particles that matched up to a very specific location. Yeah, go figure - real life isn't like police procedurals.

In the end, all I really had to go on was the '95 Tesla Heterdyne. There were only 5,000 that ever came off the line in California to begin with. There couldn't be that many in the American Occupied Zone of Japan. I connected to the DMV database and had it start searching. By the time I finished my coffee I had a list of 129 different '95 Hets officially licensed in the AZ.

When I got up to refill my mug, I noticed Chiyo had fallen asleep. I guess the caffeine didn't match up to the long day she'd had. I cleared her tray and tucked the blanket up to her chin. I noticed that she snored a little bit in her sleep. It was a cute snore, a soft little whiffing sound. I grinned, patted her on the head, and went back to work.

129 registries later, no one who looked anything like Kylie or even matched her sex/age bracket. Three of the registries had been reported stolen. I set those aside for a minute, then pulled up a crawler program I'd written. I set it to look for daughters and wives in the 126 and sent if off to do its magic. While I had the crawler program open, I configured a second spider to search owners, daughters and wives of licensed H&K ND4s for females in Kylie's age bracket and turned that one loose too.

Then I pulled up the files on the three stolen Hets. Kylie definitely gave me the vibe that she was comfortable outside the law - paying off the books for her room, carrying an ND4, how comfortable she'd been with the idea that she was drawing down on a kidnapper, her unwillingness to involve the cops - that all added up. I could definitely see her as car thief; almost all pro car thieves love cars, and she clearly loved that Het. The way she'd talked about restoring it hinted that it was actually hers, but I was still making the case files on these stolen Hets my focus for now.

The first one was an easy write-off; the car had been totaled in a chase when the cops tried to pull the thief over. A sad loss for classic motor vehicles, but easy to mark off my list. The second one took a little while longer to piece together, but eventually I was fairly sure that it actually matched up to one of 126 that my crawler was working on. The custom engine re-works were the same on both, and the serial number on the legally owned one matched to a totaled model back state-side. The deed on the legally owned one also had some holes in the history. I was comfortable declaring it a nice switch and sale by the thief. I could have flagged my work and sent it to the cops, but the case file had been gathering dust for eight months, and in the end I didn't really care which rich asshole owned the car.

By the time I'd solved the case of the stolen Het to my satisfaction, the sun was up and I was out of coffee. I checked in on my crawlers. Crawler one had my wives and daughters list for the remaining Het owners; I had it load the photos into a slideshow I could access from my phone then re-configured it look for girlfriends, nieces and daughter in laws on the 126 and sent it back out. Crawler two was still working its way through the much longer list of ND4 licenses.

I took a quick shower then started another pot of coffee and began making breakfast while I flipped through the wife and daughter photos. There's a lot to be said for Japanese cuisine, but when it comes to breakfast, I stick to what I was raised on. I started with a pan full of bacon. Once the bacon was done, I cracked a few eggs into a bowl, added some cream and shredded cheese, whipped them together, then scrambled them in the leftover bacon grease.

Chiyo woke up while I was frying the bacon. Fox girl had a nose for meat, I'll give her that. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and limped over towards the kitchen, using my scattered furniture to support her passage.

"That smells really good."

"Yeah it does. I know you think raw meat is the best, but I think you'll change your mind after you try this. You want a fresh cup of coffee-flavored cream and sugar?"

"Yes please."

"Alright, go ahead and sit at the table. I'll have this on plates in a minute."

"Mmkay." She yawned and stretched, the blanket sliding off one shoulder as she did so. I caught a glimpse of fox boob and groaned. Chiyo didn't seem to notice; she just made her way to the table, hopping on one leg to get from the kitchen counter to the closest chair.

I dropped off her abomination cup along with my own honest mug, then went back and loaded two plates with bacon and eggs. Two slices of toast went on my plate, one on hers. I grabbed butter and jam out of the fridge then carried everything over to the table. Chiyo reached for the bacon but I pulled her plate away.

"Nope! Now that you're living with humans, you're going to have to learn to eat like a human. You're going to have to show me that you can eat with silverware instead of your hands and not make a mess."

"I am not messy!"

"Prove it. Knife and fork, like this. No, don't hold the fork like a shovel - two fingers and a thumb; see how I'm holding it? Eat like a lady, not an animal. Small bites; use a napkin to clean your fingers after you pick up the bacon."

Chiyo growled at me but I'd pricked her pride. She was awkward and slow with the unfamiliar utensils, but she made it through the whole meal with smearing anything on her face or hands. I was being a bit hypocritical - I'm not normally much on table manners, but I wanted to get her to shift her habits so I didn't risk vomiting up my own meal whenever I watched her eat. I channeled eighteen years of lectures from my mother and unloaded them on Chiyo.

At least she liked the food. Well, she liked the eggs and bacon. She wasn't a fan of the toast until I let her practically drown it in jam. Even then, she said it would have been better to just eat the jam with a spoon. Heathen.

I dumped the dishes in the sink then sniffed Chiyo and declared that she needed a sponge bath. I carried her into the bathroom and scrubbed her down, gritting my teeth and suffering as I ran the washcloth over her supple naked flesh. I introduced her to the concept of toothbrushes as well. She thought it was a terrible idea. I tried showing her how much better my breath smelled after I brushed my teeth, but she insisted that smelling like mint was dumb. In the end I put my foot down and told her that while she was living in the human world, it wasn't optional. Either she could brush her teeth, or I'd brush them for her.

She chose to do it herself. I have a large collection of toothbrushes in a drawer, and I broke out a fresh one and declared that it belonged to her now. She was still making faces and complaining about the taste when I carried her back out to the main room and over to my wardrobe.

"Alright, we're going to have to leave the apartment to go see my friend about your leg. That means you have to put on clothes. On our way back, we'll stop and buy some clothes that actually fit you, but for now you're going to have to wear something of mine."

I checked my phone. "We've got about fifteen minutes to pick something out, so you can't afford to be picky. Nothing's going to fit you, obviously, but I can at least give you some choices in color and style. Let me see what I can offer."

Chiyo didn't like any of the options, predictably, but when I declared time was up and forced her to choose, she settled on my Yomiuiri Giants 2011 World Series Champions commemorative jersey. The jersey was basically like a dress on her, coming down to her knees. It actually looked pretty sexy, in that whole "girlfriend wearing your jersey around the apartment" sort of way. As long as no one was in a position to notice she wasn't wearing anything under the jersey, it kind of passed as legitimate outerwear. I mean, not really, but it would have to do.

I got my own H&K ND4 out of my safe, checked the charge, and clipped the holster onto my belt. I didn't really expect to be bushwhacked by Kylie in the hallway, but I'd rather have my own gun if it did happen. I tucked the fuzzy pink cuffs into my pocket then scooped Chiyo into my arms and headed out. I do own an actual car - it's mostly for rain and snow, but I decided it was also probably good for transporting a Kitsune with a broken leg. It's a small green Subaru SUV; the guys at work called it a chick car, but it was energy efficient and handled okay off-road, which was what I looked for in a car. I helped Chiyo into the passenger seat then climbed in.

I pulled out the handcuffs then looked at them and sighed. "Chiyo, I know we talked about building a better relationship last night. Part of that is going to be building trust. My brain is telling me that it's safer for me to cuff your hands to the door while I'm driving, so that you can't pop the door open and run or grab the wheel and wreck the car. But that's not going to help things long term. I'm willing to take the risk and skip the handcuffs if you promise me you won't attack me or try to escape. Can you promise me that?"

"What if I say no?"

"Then I cuff you, and we take things slower."

Chiyo shrugged. "Then I promise to behave. I wouldn't have tried anything anyway. Like I told you, I can't access my magic, my leg is broken, and I'm in a city full of humans. My best bet is sticking close to you, Master."

"I told you that you don't have to call me Master."

"Sorry Master. I mean, sorry Jason."

I shoved the handcuffs back in my pocket, feeling like an idiot. I shouldn't have even brought them. I still couldn't help keeping one eye on Chiyo as I drove. What she said made sense, but I couldn't stop thinking of her as a source of danger.

Yeah, 5'5" and 110 lbs. soaking wet, cute chick with a broken leg, and part of me was scared of her. I mean, she wasn't human. I'd watched her dismember and devour a rabbit with her teeth and fingers, and that was on top of all the scary stories of things about non-humans you grow up with. Humanity had learned to be scared of non-humans in the dark ages; just because we had been on top of the heap for a few centuries didn't mean we'd stopped being wary of the things that went bump in the night.

When we were getting close to the Army base, I clipped my phone into the dashboard and dictated a text to Amy letting her know we were fifteen minutes out. The MPs at the gate had my name on the list, and apparently Amy had pulled some strings because they didn't ask about Chiyo. I checked my ND4 with them and followed directions to the veterinary clinic building.

It may seem odd to you that the Army has a vet clinic on base, but Kyoto was the second largest base in the American Zone, and the Army actually has a lot of animals enlisted. Bomb-sniffing dogs are the bulk of our furry friends in uniform, but there are all sorts. There's actually still a stable full of horses that the armored cavalry sometimes mount up on for parades. Amy had explained all of this to me over drinks once she'd decided she didn't really hate me that much anymore.

Amy had responded to my text, telling me to pull around to the rear entrance. When I parked, she was waiting outside with a wheelchair. She wheeled it over while I got out and helped Chiyo down. I was expecting her to be staring and peppering Chiyo with questions, but she was holding her curiosity in check. I made introductions.

"Chiyo, this is my friend Dr. Amy Washington. She's going to give you some real medical treatment for your leg instead of the sticks and cloth I rigged up. Amy, this is Chiyo, the Kitsune."

"It's an honor to meet you, Chiyo; I've never met a Kitsune before. Hopefully this barbarian didn't do any permanent damage to your leg; we'll find out once we get you inside."

"Um, it's nice to meet you too, Amy. I've never met a doctor before. Thank you for helping me."

"It's my job, Chiyo. And my pleasure. Go ahead and sit down in the wheelchair, and we'll get you inside and take a look at you."

I helped Chiyo into the wheelchair then took the handles and followed Amy as she held the clinic door open. She led us into an exam room and waved us over to a metal table mounted on a pneumatic lift.

"Chiyo, you're going to need to take your clothes off and lie down on this table. I'm going to strap you onto the table, but don't be scared of that. It's just to make sure you don't startle or twitch while the machine is scanning you to look for problems."

I coughed as I helped Chiyo get out of the chair and sit on the exam table. "Um, do you think you can skip the straps? I'm pretty sure Chiyo can hold still long enough for a scan to run."

Amy looked at me sideways but played along. "Of course, I'm sorry. I'm just too used to working with animals. I'm not used to patients who can follow verbal instructions. Go ahead and strip, Chiyo, there's no need to be embarrassed, I'm a doctor."

Chiyo startled. She'd been staring at Amy, but now she blushed and hurriedly pulled my jersey off. "Oh, sorry, I was distracted. I'm not embarrassed. I actually think I look prettier naked than in Jason's clothes. This shirt is better than his clothes that I had to wear yesterday, but I still don't like it."

Amy made a snorting sound that was some sort of awkward combination of surprise and trying to stifle a laugh. She glared at me and I wisely pretended I hadn't heard anything. After she was satisfied that I wasn't going to comment, she turned back to her patient.

"Okay, let's get your leg lifted up and extended. I'm going to go ahead and take the splint and bandages off now. Let me know if it hurts too much. Mmhmm. Okay, that does it. Don't try and move your leg while it's not splinted, let me move it. Nice and gentle. Go ahead and lie down. No, I'm sorry, you can't lie on your side; I won't be able to get a good scan reading that way."

"Can I lie on my stomach? I don't like squishing my tails."

"Um . . . yes, that would work fine if you're really more comfortable that way. Jason, help me steady the leg while she turns over? Good. Go ahead and turn your head to the side, arms down by your sides. Um, can you make your tails stop twitching?"

"Yeah, sorry. The table's really cold and that makes me uncomfortable, but I can hold them still if I concentrate on it."

"Okay then. Let's get the scan started so that it can be over as fast as possible then." Amy was clearly slightly flustered, but she soldiered on.

She tapped a couple of buttons and clear plastic sheathing extended from the sides of the table, rising into a half-shell dome. A U-shaped piece of metal I hadn't noticed at the head of the table clicked into place and began emitting a ray of green light. With a slight mechanical hum, the scanner rolled down the table on built in tracks, the green light slowly washing over Chiyo's still form. Amy was focused on a large screen that was showing her real-time results of the scan.

When the scanner cleared Chiyo's feet, Amy tapped a few buttons and the light turned orange then began moving back over Chiyo's body again. I made sure to stand where Chiyo could see me, giving her a reassuring smile as the scanner did its thing. After the scanner had reached its original position, there was another click and the sheathing retracted back into the table. Amy tapped a few more buttons and then turned around.

"Okay, scan is good. You seem like a very healthy young Kitsune, Chiyo; nothing wrong except for the leg. You can go ahead and sit up and get dressed again, just be careful moving your leg. The break was clean, luckily. It's not set perfectly, but it's close enough that we won't need to reset it. Go ahead and stay on the table for now, I'm going to get the things I need to treat the cuts and give you a cast."

While Amy pulled things out of a cupboard, I stepped forward and helped hold Chiyo's leg while she sat up. She shivered and rubbed her arms then held them over her head so that I could slide the jersey back onto her. My traitorous eyes drank in the detail that her nipples had stiffened into hard little bullets from pressing against the cold metal of the table. She was still shivering even after the jersey covered her, so I sat on the table behind her and let her lean against my chest while I wrapped my arms around her. She sighed in relief and cuddled up to me, soaking up my body heat.

Amy rolled her eyes at me as she came back, and I put on an expression of wounded innocence. I was clearly just trying to offer the patient a source of warmth; I don't know why Amy always assumes the worst about me. Well, aside from the fact that she knows me.

Amy started with a disinfectant spray on the cuts. After that she rubbed bonding agent into the deeper tears in the flesh - I guess I should have called her back from the motel to check if that was okay. Maybe she hadn't realized I had some in my kit. Next she wrapped the cuts with some sort of high-tech Army bandage - she explained that it wouldn't need to be changed under the cast and would gradually degrade while the cuts healed. Then she covered Chiyo's leg with a thick gel cream to help keep the skin from itching under the cast.

Finally she pulled over a tank and sprayed on quick setting foam to form a cast from just below Chiyo's knee down to her foot, leaving just her toes free. I'd read about the stuff online, but it was new enough that I'd never actually seen it in use. Apparently it bonded with the gel and could actually be worn in the shower or otherwise get wet without any problems. A different chemical would be used to dissolve it when Amy pronounced it ready to be removed. After that, the official treatment was done. I helped Chiyo back into the wheelchair, then followed Amy over to her screen to get the notes on aftercare.

She gave me a prescription for a specialized pain-killer that was designed to work better with Kitsune biology, along with notes on dosages and a guideline on gradually reducing it based on Chiyo's pain levels. She also gave me a pair of collapsible crutches and informed me that I'd be getting an invoice for the crutches and the rest of the stuff she'd used. Apparently the ticket bribe was good enough to waive her fees, but not enough that she was willing to cover the cost of materials out of pocket. I asked her if Kitsune had any special dietary needs that I needed to be aware of.

"No, not really. Both her fox and human sides are omnivores, so she can pretty much just eat people food. She'll want a diet that's higher in meat than average, but since I used to date you, I can tell you that if you just feed her what you're eating she'll be fine."

"Anything else I need to be aware of, doc?"

"No, that about covers it. Let me know if she shows any sign of increased pain or if anything else changes for the worse, and bring her back in two weeks and I'll check to see if the cast is ready to come off. You will need to book that appointment and pay for it - your bribe is officially cashed out once you walk out that door. Have you decided yet if you're going to let me study her?"

"I'm going to have to talk that over with her. If you publish, it's going to affect our lives to some degree. I'm open to the possibility, but I need to discuss it with her before I agree to anything."