"You're insane!" FluffyRocker was spluttering between giggles. "No
question about it. Completely crackers. Certifiable."
"Toys in the attic," his companion added helpfully. "Several sandwiches
short of a picnic. But wasn't it *fun*?"
"'Fun'?! You nearly got me killed, you crazy doe! You never mentioned
about their getting back up again! And why didn't you *tell* me that that
last one was a bull?!"
"Well, if you can't tell a boy from a girl..."
He turned on her suddenly, and had her in his arms before she could
protest. "Oh, I can tell, all right," he said quietly, just inches from
her face. "The 'boys', as you call them," he continued softly, leaning
closer, "The boys..." his whiskers brushed against hers, "...are stronger
than the girls!" he whooped, scooping her up and tossing her into the pond
the trail circled. She landed with a loud sploosh and let out and
"Rocker!" she fumed. "Why you... you little... ack!" she burbled, and went
under. Rocker was laughing so hard he could barely keep his feet. "That'll
teach you to mess with the Rocker," he gasped. "Maybe next time you'll...
Dancer? Dancer?!" The top of the pond stilled, and there was no bunny to
be seen. Rocker, heart in mouth, scrambled to the edge. He scanned the
water frantically. Oh Frith, where was she? Couldn't she swim? He had
thought all bunnies could swim. "Dancer!!" he yelled.
She rocketed out of the water and had him by the ears before he could
react. He made an attempt to save himself that was doomed from the start,
leaning out as he had been. He only succeeded in turning his nose-dive
into a front-flip, and came up coughing and snorting water out of his
nose. He turned to glare at the doe paddling serenely beside him.
"Hey, the boys may be stronger, but the girls are trickier," she preened.
"And you needed a bath anyway," she added, leaning back and kicking great
gouts of water at him with her hind feet.
"Hey! <splutter> Cut it... Oh, two can play that game, you know!" Plowing
through her barrage, he put a paw on her head and firmly pushed her under.
Then as she spluttered to the surface, he began scrubbing her vigorously,
singing out gaily, "This is the way we *wash* the doe! *Wash* the doe,
*wash* the doe..." She squealed and giggled between thrashes, and resorted
to leaping at him and going for the tickle. Being tickled with devilbunny
claws is quite the experience, and Rocker hastily attempted to dunk her
again. There was a brief wrestling match, which ended with them lying
coughing and giggling half up on the bank.
"Truce!" Rocker gasped. "I concede! I am vanquished!" he declared with a
melodramatic, if damp, fluff.
"Well, about time!" Dancer wheezed, flopping back and giggling. Rocker
rolled lazily onto his side and observed her. The light had increased, and
the luminescence was enough to show how her sleeked down fur revealed the
slender form beneath. He had thought that her appeal was mainly in her
carriage and movement, but now he realized that she was very attractive
indeed. In a clichi so trite he almost laughed at himself, he found
himself thinking that she was lovely in the light of pre-dawn, and that a
thousand songs were just waiting to be written in tribute to her.
"Dancer," he murmured, gently putting a foreleg around her, caressing her
damp cheek, nuzzling the sweet warmth of her neck. "Has anyone ever
mentioned that you are beautiful?" Her attention snapped to him, and
suddenly, of all things, there was something like trepidation in her eyes.
It was yet another surprise from this constantly surprising doe, but he
found that this made her even more appealing.
"You are, you know," he whispered, beginning to softly kiss her muzzle,
moving towards the base of her throat. She stiffened under his caress, and
he could have sworn she was trembling.
"Um, like, Rocker?" she squeaked. He pulled back and regarded her. She
looked as nervous and skittish as any half-grown kit on her first date. He
couldn't understand it. She was young, but she was certainly no kit. What
the Frith? He hesitated between pushing her and easing up, and decided on
the latter. It could be more easily rectified at a later date, after all.
And there *would* be a later date, he was determined.
"And you know what else?" he said softly. She shook her head dumbly.
"You're wet." He licked a few droplets off of her ear, and got up. "Let's
get dried off." He watched the relief and disappointment mingle in her
face, and grinned to himself. Oh yes. This one would be worth waiting for.
He could afford to give her the time to figure out what she wanted, since
it was pretty clear to him what that was. He started grooming himself dry,
watching out of the corner of his eye as she got to her feet with a
questioning, almost embarrassed look, and started to fluff her fur. He
wasn't sure how he would get her on the tour mover, but he would.
PunkBunny would just have to lump it. <grin> His sweet Dancer was a
drifter anyway: it shouldn't be a hard task to persuade her. It was a
task he looked forward to, in fact. <gleam>
He watched her as she groomed. Now that she had relaxed, her movements
were fluid and graceful again. The sunrise had started in earnest, its
first rays striking an unexpected golden gleam from her coat. Typical,
somehow, that there would be something hidden in the depths. He watched as
she fluffed and primped, vaguely surprised that the rough-coated doe would
take so much trouble. She was one mystery after another. Like a
multi-layered box at Christmas. What wonderful fun they could have. What
an easing of the loneliness she could be.
He let his mind drift as he attended to his own pelt. He thought of blue
eyes and lop ears and sunrises, trying to weave them all into a melody. He
normally went in for harder rock, bordering on the unky00t, but the
occasional love song would be a nice addition to his set, especially out
here in the rural warrens where the harsher stuff might not be as
accepted. And speaking of which, they really should be heading back. He
owed it to his audience to get a *little* sleep before he sang tonight!
He turned to call to Dancer, and froze, jaw dropping. She was on fire: a
blaze of gold in the morning light. He stared in amazement, wondering
frantically if somehow this wasn't the same doe. Instead of the dull dun
coat, there was a rich golden-tan. The butterfly marking on the nose was
gone, and the both the delicate paws and the lovely curving breast they
were fluffing were creamy white. And with the coat carefully fluffed to
fall just so... She was beautiful. She was breath-taking. And she was very
She glanced at him, saw his stare, and hesitated. He felt as if something
were slipping away, but he was helpless to do more than sit and stare.
"Like, I should have remembered about the StunningBunny Eye-and-Ear
Liner," she said conversationally in a bright voice that wasn't quite
hers. "It runs," she confided. He was lost and it obviously showed.
"Here, like, let me give you a hint." She hopped to the bank, plucked a
reed, and made it into an impromptu earbow. "Like, better?" she asked, and
struck a pose that just about every red-blooded buck on the World Wide Web
"Wynn?!?" he said incredulously. "How... What... Wynn? *The* Wynn?!" He
felt stupid the moment he said it. Of course. There had been plenty of
gossip about her being at Linden Hills, now, as Chief Mentat of all things.
And the questions. 'Isn't it ever too much.' She was a vastly greater
celebrity than he was, and probably never got much privacy. But... His head
whirled. He wasn't as smitten with her as many bucks were, but he still
owned a Wynn poster or two, and enjoyed the calendars as much as the next
buck. And that bikini shot, intended mainly for symps and converts, had
certainly done things for him. What the fluff did one do in this situation?
Leave? Stay? Ask for an autograph?
"Like, the one and only!" she was saying in that same bright, cheerful
voice that held all the depth of a puddle. He looked in her eyes, and it
was as if a door had slammed shut. No admittance. Trespassers will be
"Like, the 'How' is 'Pepper Powerfluff's Almond Bark Pedicure Talc', she
continued. "Like, way great for changing coat color temporarily, don't you
think? And it's aromatherapy too! <bouncebounce> So, like, nice to meet
you. Again. <giggle>"
"I don't believe it. This is... wow. Give me a minute here."
"Hey, like, no problem. But, like, we should be getting back, don't you
think? Anyway, you have something to tell those grandkits about now. Like,
a date with Wynn! Like, not every buck can say that! <gigglewink>"
She turned to hop away, dismissing him again, and he was suddenly very
angry. Who in Frith's name did she thing she was? What gave her the right
to jerk him around like that? Sure, he had had groupies, but at least he
had been honest with them. How much had she been play-acting just now?
Toying with him out of bored amusement?
"Just a minute," he snapped, grabbing her foreleg and pulling her around
to face him. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and he let go, making an
effort to control himself. He looked at her steadily, and she had the
grace to look uncomfortable.
"Hey, look, like, I'm way sorry. Like, I maybe wasn't very fair to you..."
"I want Dancer back," he interrupted softly.
"I want Dancer back. I don't want Wynn, or rather this.. this... front
that is Wynn. I don't care whether you're Wynn or not, if it comes to it.
I want the doe that I met last night; the best night that I've had for a
long time. I know she's in there somewhere. I want her back." And because
he didn't know what else to do, he grabbed her and kissed her with all the
frustration and chagrin and longing that he felt. For a minute he thought
it would solve everything, but she stiffened in his embrace, and he pushed
her away, furious.
"So that's it, then? I'm not good enough for the great Wynn?" he snarled.
"I'm OK to toy with and lie to and fool for your own entertainment but
Frith forbid I actually touch you?"
"No no no! It's not like that! It's... It's just..." The desperation and
embarrassment in her voice cut through his anger. "Like, I've never done
much of anything like this before!" she wailed. "I don't know how to! I
don't know what to do!"
He stared, not comprehending. "What?" he asked.
"I've, like, never been with a buck before," she admitted miserably.
"What?!? You?! Wynn?!" He stared incredulously. "The number one Pin-Up Doe
and every buck's dream date is a *virgin*?!?"
"Don't you dare laugh!" she cried, eyes dark with fury and humiliation.
"Don't you dare! Like, you couldn't know what it is like! You with all
your does! Like, no buck that I've ever cared about has ever even *wanted*
me!" Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn't seem to notice.
"Like, Patch thought I was a stupid kit, and Marlin was ashamed of me, and
Lucky got bored with me before he even met me, and Nobunny couldn't be
bothered with all his other does, and... and even Barley... Barley... he
fell *asleep*! <hidefacemortifiedfluff>"
Rocker felt like he'd been hit over the head with a two by four. Could
this possibly be true? *Wynn*? But true or not, he let his instincts take
"Shhh shhhh shhhh, my poor silly Dancer," he crooned, taking her in his
forelegs and cradling her to him. "Shhh shhh shhh." He silenced her with
his nuzzles; kissed away the saltiness from her cheeks, gently found her
mouth. "Come, my delightful, ridiculous, desirable little doe. Come dance
And in the early morning light, two shadows danced their own dance to the
music of the reeds.
Wynn and Punk Bunny!!
Hey, now! That's not fair! I was beat up
by a bunch of crazed bunnymarines, and then
I got arrested by Black Battalion! Then I
was forced to help some crazed wannabe Mentat
in his plot to take over the world, (but that's
classified information, of course...) and after
that I figured that you wouldn't want to see
me again... =:(
Anyway, I did want you... I just sort of got
distracted is all... =:/
(On the other paw, she says that she once cared about me... Cool!) =8)