To reveal them to Sune means that I'll be revealed. To keep them hidden means I can't conquer this world--they are far too deeply entrenched here. What do I do?

I can't stay here.

Reese pushed himself up off the couch, shifted quickly into his native form, and left. He didn't bother locking the door; it wasn't like anyone was going to be able to break into the apartment.

Mrs. Trumble waved at him and he waved back, too distracted to ignore her as was his usual routine.

He jogged off down the hallway and through the door to the darkened street. It was past ten at night, and the building was in a better-than-average area for Fort Lauderdale, so the street was nearly deserted.

Reese walked down the street, almost in a daze as he tried to avoid thinking about the problem he faced.

A large wash of yellow on the other side of the street caught his eye and he stopped and turned. It was a Barnes and Noble; his favorite one in the area. It was also one of his preferred places to go and think.

Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do. . . other than decide whether to save the Kitsune or tell Control.

Screw it. He crossed the street and entered the bookstore. The parking lot to the side wasn't that full, and most of the customers were at the café, anyway.

I need caffeine. Reese had discovered that while on Earth, caffeine was generally considered a stimulant, to him (and presumably all other members of his species) caffeine was a calming agent. It allowed him to think better and also cleared his mind.

"One espresso," he said as he stepped up to the counter.

"Three sixty-five," the cashier told him boredly. He handed her the money with one hand and accepted his drink with the other.

As he slowly sipped the hot beverage he surveyed the circular dais where the chairs and tables were. Not many free ones. He selected a chair that seemed clean and near a trashcan and headed towards it. The second he sat down, however, a voice caught his attention.

"Hey, aren't you that author . . .?"

He turned around. The woman addressing him had an iced coffee and a college textbook in hand. More were piled on the table in front of her.

His eyes darted from side to side, scanning the room to see if anyone had heard her. "Yes, please—keep your voice down. I don't want—"

"A mob of crazed fans?" she finished for him, shaking her head and causing a full head of smooth black hair to ripple. "Yeah, my aunt's the same way. S'cool. Sorry to have bothered you."

She was turning away when he grabbed her arm. "Hey— would you like to get some coffee?" he asked, trying not to sound desperate. He needed something--anything to keep his mind off of the Kitsune. And when he'd looked at her something had sparked inside him; something he didn't recognize and which made a not unpleasant feeling in his stomach.

She looked pointedly at the almost-full cup in front of him.

"Oh," he said, feeling foolish. He picked up the cup with his free hand and reached behind himself and threw the cup in the garbage can. "Still want to go?"

"Uh--sure," she said, looking flustered. "Let me just grab my stuff."

She shoved all of her books into a battered ice blue messenger bag and hoisted it up onto her shoulder. "Where to?"

"There's a good coffee shop right down the street," he offered as he watched her try not to wince as the strap of the bag cut into her shoulder. "Would you like me to carry that?"

"It's really heavy," she said. "You might hurt yourself."

"Psh," he said, and reached over to lift the bag, making sure to make a show that it caused him at least a little discomfort.

"Thanks," she said, looking relieved, and straightened her t-shirt. "I guess you're stronger than you look."

"Just a little. The coffee shop is open late, so don’t worry about the time," he said, leading the way out of the store.

"So--" she began, but he cut her off.

"I'm sorry," he said, feeling foolish. "I didn't quite catch your name."

"I didn't give it," she said, "but for the record my name is Morgan."

"Do you have a last name?"

"Schindler," she said. "No relation to the savior of the Jews."

"Do you get that a lot?" he asked as they walked down the sidewalk.

"Uh. . . actually, no," she said, looking embarrassed. "I just don’t really like being compared to the guy because he was a jerk."

"You knew him?" Reese asked, amused. "Oskar Schindler?"

"No, but yeah," she scuffed a sneaker on the sidewalk. "He was a complete jerk. The movie lied. He did most of what he did for the money, not because he actually wanted to save people."

"Really?" he asked, interested. The movie he'd seen had made Oskar Schindler out to be a complete hero.

"Yup. The movie industry is all about heroizing anyone who did anything to save the Jews and didn't really care if they were paid off or not. Anyone who is pro-Jew is a hero, apparently." Her brown eyes were sparkling; this was obviously a topic she liked. Or was fanatical about.

"Anti-Semitic much?" Reese asked. This girl could prove to be amusing.

"Not really," she blushed. "I'm actually Jewish, but I just don't approve of a lot of things the world still thinks."

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters, I honestly don't think it was a good idea to put the Jews in Palestine."

That's a little off-topic, he thought, but motioned for her to go on.

"Why put someone you know is going to be a physical minority in a place that's full of people who hate them? Why take land away from people who didn't really do much to you? Yeah, I know, Gulf War," she said as he opened his mouth, "but not only did they put the hated people on land that wasn't theirs, they put them on land that was a holy site and some of the best land in Palestine. Feel sorry for the Jews, but don't feel sorry for them on someone else's time. Use Germany.

"Take some of the best farming lands in Germany, give them to the Jews, and don't make Germany pay any more war debts. The land that they give should even out whatever debt they owe."

"Well, I guess that makes sense," Reese said, still wading through her explanation. He could really care less about what happened to the Jews; there was a fifty percent chance that their world was going to die within five years anyway.

"Mmm," she said, then eyed her bag. "Are you sure you're okay with carrying that?"

He shifted it higher on his shoulder to illustrate the fact that he was fine. "There it is." He used his free arm to point at the illuminated neon sign for Chez Dako.

"Looks good," she said as he led her inside. Small tables were scattered along the walls, and only a few patrons were at the bar that stretched along one side of the room.

He picked his favorite table in the corner, and as they sat down the lone waiter came scurrying over. "The usual, Reese?" he asked.

"Sure. Morgan, what'll you have?"

"Um, a coffee is fine."

Stan nodded and bustled off to take care of their order.

"So," he said, trailing off.

"So," she said, looking down.

"What's up?" he asked. "You seemed so talkative before on the sidewalk."

She blushed. "It's just something that I'm passionate about. And I've never really been out with someone famous before."

"Oh, it's fine."

"I just really have nothing to talk about," she said. "Your books. . . I didn't really like them, to be honest."

"Really?"

"Really really. They just didn't speak to me. Normally I'm a big fan of police or law mystery novels, but yours just didn't give me a sense that I was there."

Considering that my computer wrote all of them, I'm not surprised.

"I'm sorry," he said, wondering why he was apologizing.

"No, it's not your fault. I just didn't like them. I don't like a lot of things."

"Do you like me?" he asked, surprising both of them.

"I--uh--I guess," she said as her cheeks turned red. "I mean I don't really know you, but I guess you seem like a nice guy."

"Would you like to get to know me more?" he asked, surprising himself again.

"Er--sure," she said, and started fiddling with her napkin.

As she opened her mouth to say more, Stan came back with their drinks. "Large mocha and a coffee for the lady. Would you like anything else?"

"No, thanks Stan." Reese said.

"So what do you do in your free time?" Morgan asked as she added milk and sugar to her coffee.

"I read, mostly. I do more research on the Internet. Sometimes I go out to a movie or two, but not often." He read on the history of this world and various wars; did research on what weapons were in the public domain and on many that weren't. He watched movies to see what effect they had on the local populace and studied their reactions to various emotional stimuli.

"Sounds boring," she said. "I think you need to get out more."

"Like where?" he asked.

"I don't know, Scuba diving?" she suggested. "Scuba, driving, restaurants, dates, clubs, all that fun stuff. You're not that old. Get a life."

He snorted. "I have aquaphobia." Not aquaphobia, he just couldn't swim. Neither the K'Kitsune or the Kitsune were made for swimming.

"Ooookay. . ."

"What do you do in your free time?"

"What free time? I'm in college; most of my time is taken up with studying for tests, taking tests, writing papers, and working."

"You work?"

"I'm a night manager at Hollywood Video."

"Must be. . . fun," he said.

She shrugged. "It's a job.

They didn't say anything more until both drinks were gone.

"It's nearly midnight," Reese observed. "Do you want me to walk you home?"

"I guess so," she said. "It's not raining anymore though, and this isn't a bad part of town. I can do it myself if you want."

"I don't mind."

She shrugged at him and he paid the bill. As they left the café, she insisted on carrying her bag, but he watched carefully as she strained under the heavy load.

"Tell you what," he said. "How about you carry two of the books and I'll carry the bag."

She frowned. "You carried it to the café and now you're walking me home. Thanks, but you're not doing more than that."

He frowned but let her continue carrying the bag. "How did you get it to the store if it was this hard to carry?" he asked, surreptitiously taking a grip on a part of the bag that was out of her sigh and pulling some of the weight off of her shoulder.

"I had someone drop me off," she said. "And you really don’t have to walk me home. I live on campus; it's not that far."

"BCC?"

"You're funny," she said, glaring at him. "It's not."

"FAU?"

"Getting warmer."

"NSU?"

"Bingo."

"Why NSU? It's expensive."

"They've got a good law program," she told him, and sped up.

"So?"

"I'm majoring in Law."

"Which section?"

"Criminal Justice. I want to be a prosecutor for the state."

"You do realize that it doesn't pay very well."

She shrugged. She seemed to do that a lot. "It pays enough. And I've got a scholarship, so it's not like I'll have a lot of loans to pay off."

"I guess that works out."

"Where did you go to college?" she asked, startling him. No one had ever really asked that with an unprofessionally interested intention before.

"NYU."

"How was it?"

"It was an okay college. I didn't really get to know anyone there or make a lasting impression on anyone, but all in all I guess it was a good experience."

She didn't say anything.

When they finally got to the doors of her dorm, she just smiled at him. "Thanks for the coffee."

Reese got that funny feeling in his stomach and smiled back. "Any time." She was reaching for the door handle when he cleared his throat. "Hey, listen, if you aren't busy. . . would you like to maybe have dinner some time?"

There was a funny look on her face as she turned around to face him. "S-sure. Um, when?"

"Thursday night?" he asked, and she looked disappointed and shook her head.

"No good; I've got a midterm the next morning at seven and I can't be out late."

"We wouldn't be out late," he promised. "I could have you back by nine or ten."

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt. . ."

"Can I pick you up at six, then? We could do dinner and a movie."

"Um, okay."

"Right here? Or would you prefer I picked you up elsewhere?"

"Here is fine."

"Okay. I'll see you on Thursday then." He handed her a card and hastily wrote his cell phone number on it. "Call me if you need anything."

His fingers brushed hers as she took the card, and he knew that were he in his own form, his fur would have been standing on end. She raised her eyes to his one last time and then walked through the doors.

"Goodnight," she called.

"Goodnight."

Two and a half days of profound worrying later, Reese had reached no conclusions other than the decision that he did not want to die.

At five o' clock p.m. he got up from the blank screen at his computer where he'd been sitting for almost two days. Kitsune did not need much sleep. He stretched his way out of the chair and over towards the bathroom.

There were some perks to living on Earth. An abundance of water was one of them, and he always delighted in the feeling of water running through his fur instead of the cool, windlike breath of the 'fresher downstairs.

Once he'd showered and gotten all of the fear-sweat and just the sweat of the last few days out of his fur, he shifted back into his human form and then changed into a black pair of pants and a blue button down shirt. He almost didn't grab a jacket but changed his mind when he saw the lack of condensation on the windows.

After dithering for nearly a minute, he just grabbed a long coat from where it had been hanging over the back of a chair since mid-March and hurried out the door.

By the time he'd finally caught a cab to the NSU dorms it was five to six, and Morgan was standing outside. As he exited the cab and told the driver to wait, she straightened up and started walking towards him.

She neared him and he raised an eyebrow appreciatively. Morgan had donned a nice pair of jeans and a coffee-colored peasant blouse, and it outlined a slim form not unlike that of a Kitsune.

"I know it's not much," she said, "but I didn't know what restaurant we were going to and I just chose something in the middle of the fashion spread.

"But it looks like I made the right choice," she concluded as she eyed him.

She smiled at him and he felt that funny twisting inside his stomach again. He reached out and took her hand, then led her back to the waiting taxi. "Sorry I don't really have a car," he explained, "but parking near my building is nearly impossible, and since I really don't go out much I really have no need for a car."

"It's okay," she said. "Really. I don't mind cabs."

He sighed in relief. "Good."

They got in and he directed the cabbie to take them towards the beach.

"You like Greek food?" he asked.

"It's not bad," she said after pausing to think about it. "It's not my favorite, but lamb is okay. I only really got into liking Greek after I saw that movie about the wedding."

He had no idea what she was talking about, so he just nodded and smiled.

The cab dropped them off at a restaurant he'd heard about from his editor: Taverna Opa.

While Morgan got out of the car, Reese paid and tipped the driver and then asked him to come back in around an hour and a half.

The cab sped off and left Reese and Morgan standing on the sidewalk, alone.

Reese offered Morgan his arm. "Shall we?"

She smiled and took his arm. "What a gentleman," she teased.

"I do try most of the time."

They walked up the ramp leading into the restaurant and were immediately greeted by a cacophony of noise.

"Well," Morgan said, looking stunned. "I didn't know this was a dancing place."

"Neither did I," Reese said. Barry, you idiot.

They sat at a table near the entrance and away from the rest of the patrons who were dancing on tables to loud music being played by a band of musicians in the far corner. Morgan watched the waiters shower napkins down on the dancers and Reese watched her. She obviously enjoyed watching the dancers, he observed as he watched her sway bare shoulders unconsciously to the guitar music.

When the waiter came back to take their orders, she ordered lamb-on-a-stick and Reese ordered the chicken breast.

The food wasn't all that memorable, but it was the time they spent dancing that remained etched in Reese's mind. Their waiter grabbed them after they'd finished eating and started showing Morgan how to do a simple two-step.

Not to be outdone in front of a woman, Reese started copying the waiter's steps perfectly, and in a matter of a few minutes he found himself in something of a dance-off on top of the tables.

All Reese could do was copy the waiter's moves; he couldn't make up his own since he didn't know anything about Greek dance. He was just lucky that one of the more severe training methods for the K'Kitsune Invaders had been ruthless in teaching them how to copy each and every movement of your opponent.

The waiter eventually prevailed, but only after Reese decided that it was worthless to win.

He and Morgan left the restaurant under a shower of napkins a little later than he had wanted to, and as a result he decided to end the night early so she could get home at a decent hour to study for her final.

"I really don't need much sleep," she'd protested.

"Bull," he'd retorted. "You need to get at least eight hours in order to function and you should also eat a nutritious breakfast and then get to your final on time."

She'd pouted then, but had looked secretly pleased. "Fine."

Now as the cabbie was driving them back towards the campus, Reese eyed his date. What did one do at the end of a date?

The driver dropped them off at the sidewalks leading to the dorm, and as Reese was getting out of the car to walk Morgan to the door, the driver stopped him.

"I'm off for the night, buddy," said the cabbie. "Sure you'll be okay alone?"

"Thanks, but I'll be fine," Reese assured him, handing him a fifty. "Have a nice night."

"You too." The cabbie flashed a fourteen-carat smile at Reese and drove off. "Good luck."

The wind whipped Reese's long coat around his legs as he walked along the concrete paths beside Morgan. She visibly began to shiver, and Reese figured the only way he could warm her up was to put his arm around her. So he did.

She immediately relaxed against him, and he tightened his arm around her. "Geez, you're hot," she whispered and pushed in closer to his side.

"Glad to be of service."

They finally reached the glass doors at the foot of her dorm, and they stopped under the shade from the moon.

"I had a really great time," she said and looked up at him.

"I did too," he agreed.

Her eyes really were mesmerizing in the moonlight, he decided as they got bigger, and she slid around in his arm to stand between him and the doors.

"We should do it again."

"Uh-huh."

"Hey..."

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind if I. . .?"

Morgan drew closer and put a hand on his arm.

His mind started running through fifty different scenarios, most of which ended with him kissing her. I can't--it's just research. Just research on this world and the inhabitants and what they feel--

Reese leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes closed first, then his and he pulled her closer.

A moment of perfect clarity, and he knew what he would do to save this world.

She finally pulled away, whispered goodnight, and pressed something into his hand.

Dazedly, he watched her slip in through the doors and out of sight.

It was a full ninety seconds before he realized that there was something in his hand and something else out of place.

Reese looked at his hand and found a piece of paper with a phone number on it. He stuffed it into his pocket and felt around for the other--

Oh. Shit.

Sometime during the kiss he'd lost control of the shift and his tail had materialized.

He felt around under the coat--he didn't think her arms had wandered that far down his back. His tail swished back and forth between his legs and he felt so dizzy that he almost needed to sit down.

No. I need to get away from here. He let the coat drop around his tail again and started walking towards the main road that led out of the campus. The parking garage was probably empty at this hour, and as far as he knew the roof didn't usually have cameras in certain areas. . .

He shot off towards the nearest parking garage--across from the main theatre and the what was probably the library, he thought.

Once he'd gotten to the roof and collapsed in the top of the stairwell, he rethought the sequence of events. Moment of perfect lucidity and calm thinking, then--what, no control over his transformation? He was just lucky that he hadn’t completely shifted; most humans wouldn't take kindly to kissing something that looked like a large, anthromorphic Earth-fox.

Thank God for long coats, he thought. He pulled it off and examined his tail. It had ripped a hole in the seat of his pants and was now curled securely around his waist and up his chest. He petted it absentmindedly for a minute and tried to think.

He wasn't going to give the Kitsune to Sune. He knew that much. He wasn't giving himself up, either. So how was he to deceive Control and still make sure the planet didn't get invaded?

Perhaps--maybe it was possible to use some new technology to blink the planet out of existence?

One thing was sure: it had to be hidden from Sune. The Kitsune could not be given up to the K'Kitsune, and by extension neither could Earth. And neither could Morgan.

Reese shivered as he remembered kissing her, and tried not to smile. It was an Earth thing, but he found that he couldn't help himself.

He shrugged back into his coat and smiled the whole way home.

"So what are you doing tonight?"

"Umm, nothing really. . . why?"

"Want to get dinner?"

"Sure."

"Okay. I'll pick you up at seven?"

"That's fine."

"I'll see you then."

"Bye."

"Goodbye."

Reese flipped the cell phone shut, smiling. He'd been doing that a lot lately.

Morgan had called to find out if she'd done anything to offend him on the date since he'd stiffened during the kiss, and had seemed extremely relieved to find out there'd been nothing.

They'd set up another date, and Reese was beside himself with joy.

I need to see her again. I know what to do now.

He picked her up at seven, brandishing a single red rose. Morgan was dressed in nice black fitted pants and a tank top he supposed was neat, and when he handed her the rose, her eyes lit up. Then they were off to dinner and a movie.

Reese had to fight with himself during the entire date to keep from kissing her again. He needed that burst of knowledge her kiss afforded him, and had to fight not to take every opportunity that arose. He would wait.

When they got back onto the campus, instead of heading directly for her dorm, she led him down a dark path that led along a small lake.

She sat down abruptly next to a palm tree surrounded with small stones, and he followed suit.

"So what actually made you take me out?" she asked, picking up a flat stone.

"I like you," he said honestly, and the stone went skipping off across the water, scattering the moonlight that puddled on the pond.

She picked up another stone. "Am I really supposed to believe that?"

"It's the truth," he said. "What do you want me to say, that I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on?"

Morgan smirked, and another stone went flying. "That'd be a good place to start."

"Fine. I think you're beautiful, and I would like nothing more than to kiss the living daylights out of you," Reese confessed, and as she flushed, wondered if he'd said the wrong thing.

Her voice was low and slightly husky as she raised eyes that were now as dark as chocolate to his face. "Why didn't you say so?"

"I--I--" he stammered, but reached for her anyway.

John Charles took a photo of the couple kissing by the shore. Reese Tyler--like it or not--was going to get his name published by The Star, and hopefully if John could get more incriminating photos, he would be able to find out what Reese Tyler really was.