A Fluffy Tale

  A Fluffy Tale

  Ann Somerville

  These stories are a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  ‘A Fluffy Tale’ Copyright © 2007 by Ann Somerville

  Cover image ©kalou1927

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  For more information please visit my website at http://annsomerville.net

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Published by Ann Somerville

  Chapter 1

  A shrilling three inches from his ear had Julian upright and awake in under a second, but though his eyes were open, he couldn’t see. Once upon a time, he’d thought he’d gone blind in his sleep. Now he knew better.

  “Pyon!”

  Instantly his vision cleared as his kem jumped off his head. He looked down, just in time to see Pyon’s tail disappear inside his chest.

  Julian sighed. If Pyon would stick around after he messed up, then Julian could explain the problem. But no, he always ran away and by the time he showed up again, his kem had forgotten the problem and Julian’s scolding had no impact.

  No one else had this much problem with their kem. At least, they said they didn’t.

  He yawned and climbed out of bed, scratching his stomach. The clothes on the bedroom floor were scattered about as if Pyon had been playing again. Julian really wished his kem would leave his stuff alone. He grabbed clean underwear and a shirt from the laundry pile—another day for keeping the jacket on, and he really had to make time for the ironing this weekend—and dove into the bathroom.

  Pyon reappeared just in time to make Julian nearly spill coffee on himself as he collected his usual breakfast Danish from the bakery on the way to the bus stop.

  “Damn it! Pyon, don’t do that!”

  Pyon jumped back inside again, but immediately stuck his head out again through Julian’s chest, green eyes bright and innocent. A complete lie, of course. Julian looked down at his kem and shook his head, waggling his hand clean of the spilled drops of coffee. “You’re going to land me in hospital, you know that.”

  Pyon gave a sad little meep and disappeared. Julian walked out of the bakery, sipped some of his coffee to lower the level, took two huge bites of his Danish, and then looked up the road.

  Crap! The bus was already heading down the road to the stop. He ran for it, tossing the coffee and shoving the Danish into his jacket pocket.

  “Wait!”

  He just managed to squeeze on at the end of the queue and spent the twenty-minute journey with a strange woman’s ginger kem staring at him the entire way, her face almost in his, curious eyes watching him unblinkingly. Pyon didn’t rematerialise, for which Julian was grateful. He’d had to write a letter of apology to the transport company the last time his kem got playful and ran amok on a crowded bus. It wasn’t like he could stop Pyon, but he felt bad about that man’s arm. They should have been more careful about the way the doors opened, but still…

  He arrived at the office exactly on time, and heaved a sigh of relief as he slid past reception and the hawkish gazes of Carol and her sleek silvery kem. Pyon popped his head out, all round-eyed and enquiring as soon as they were clear.

  “Now don’t start messing around,” Julian warned. “You’ve got me in enough trouble this week.”

  His kem chirped, materialised fully on Julian’s shoulder, and then ran off down the corridor, long tail bouncing cheerfully as he loped along, planning mischief. Julian shouted after him but only for form’s sake. His kem never did a damn thing he told him to. At least it meant he could pick up another coffee and finish his breakfast in peace as he read the morning’s emails.

  He worked on the most urgent files, and handed them back to the paralegals who’d assigned them. The office buzzed with the quiet noises of keyboards and conversations, everyone too busy to chat idly until they’d cleared the backlog. An hour later, Pyon appeared, looking for cuddles, his nose twitching. Julian never believed those innocent eyes, but no one had called his desk to complain about his truant kem making a nuisance, so perhaps Pyon had only been socialising with the other office kems. He kept hoping Pyon would pick up some good habits from the others, but he never did.

  He yawned his way through the more boring tasks, filing and preparing pro forma documents on autopilot. Pyon spent the time as he usually did, sometimes curled up on the pile of papers in the in-tray, or walking over the desk, occasionally running off with an excited chirp as he spotted a friend across the office. Everyone was used to him, though that didn’t stop the grumbling when Pyon’s excitable nature got the better of him again. After each little excursion, he always came back for a petting, and then he’d dematerialise for a few minutes. Recharging for more naughtiness, Julian’s Mum used to say—about the pair of them.

  It was Gillian from Probate’s sixtieth birthday so they had cake for morning tea, and a little gift presentation. Julian always liked birthdays in the office because the local cake shop did smashing fruit and chocolate cakes, and the office broke out the good coffee as well. It seemed like everyone was there this morning—no one off sick or on leave—but the cake was big and Julian got a nice big slice with lots of lovely icing. He was starving as usual—it always seemed an age until lunchtime.

  Gillian blushed and got very emotional about the present. She’d be retiring soon and this was her last birthday in the office, so people had pushed the boat out for her. She made a little speech, people applauded heartily, and as the clapping died down, Julian looked across the crowd of co-workers. He blinked at what he saw.

  “Who’s that?” he whispered to Liz, pointing discreetly to the handsome stranger standing next to a gaggle of paralegals and looking distinctly bored by the proceedings. The guy was tall—taller than any of the other men in the room—with sleek, black hair and strong, aristocratic features. He looked like a high-priced male model, and the last Julian had heard, Clarke, Saxony and Markham weren't hiring any of those.

  “Oooh, he’s the new solicitor. Zachary Ledbetter. Disputes—they say he’s really sharp. Picky too.” She nudged him. “Good thing you’re not in his section.”

  “Piss off,” he muttered, looking his fill at the astonishingly good-looking Mr Ledbetter before the man caught him at it.

  Suddenly Pyon, who for once had been behaving pretty well and spending the party playing with a ball of paper someone had tossed down for him to keep him out of trouble, chirped and bolted across the room—straight towards Zachary Ledbetter.

  “Pyon, no!” Julian yelled as quietly as he could, but Pyon paid no attention. Julian grinned painfully and sidled over, hoping that Pyon was just distracted by someone’s kem or a new possible toy.

  But luck wasn’t with him because Pyon bounced off Ledbetter’s feet, squeaked with delight and then scrambled up the man’s leg with his usual hyperactive speed. Startled, Ledbetter spilled coffee all over himself just as Julian reached him.

  “Pyon! I'm sorry, let me wipe that up for you. Pyon, naughty!”

  Pyon meeped and disa
ppeared. Typical.

  As Julian dabbed ineffectually with a serviette at the soiled and expensive trousers, he looked up and found he was being stared at by two pairs of eyes—one cold, green and human, and the other, the golden gaze of the biggest kem he’d ever seen. He was gorgeous—and so was his host.

  “Um…I'm really sorry. I have no idea why he’s so badly behaved.”

  The man stepped back, shook his foot and his hand, and then extracted an immaculate handkerchief to wipe his fingers, disdaining Julian’s efforts while keeping up his unfriendly gaze.

  “Don’t you? I do.”

  And with that snide remark, he turned and walked away, his tawny kem still seated firmly and regally across his shoulders like a luxurious scarf.

  Julian’s face burned hot with embarrassment—and then anger when he realised how rude the man had been. The paralegals were staring at him. He got to his feet.

  “Pyon again,” he said with a sickly smile.

  “You’ve blown it now, Julian,” Edward, one of the assistants in Debt, said. “That’s your chance of moving up a grade gone for a while.”

  “Piss off,” he said low enough for Edward’s malicious ears alone. “It wasn’t me, it was him.”

  “Always is. Still, you certainly made an impression.” Then he sniggered like a schoolboy, grimy creep that he was.

  Julian wondered why his troublemaking kem couldn’t have made this smirking rat spill coffee all over himself instead of Tall, Dark and Snotty. Edward deserved coffee-stained trousers, and more.

  Morning tea was over by then. Julian snagged a second piece of cake to take back to his desk, but he felt too gloomy to do more than pick at it. What did that bastard mean by that comment? What did he ‘know’? They’d never met before—Julian hadn’t even seen him in the office. Supercilious damn solicitors.

  He groused and grumbled his way through to lunch, and took himself bad-temperedly to the building’s shared canteen. He half-hoped he might see Ledbetter, but at the same time, the humiliation was so recent and painful, he didn’t know if he’d have done more than stutter at him. Pyon popped in and out but Julian was too distracted and cranky to do more than admonish him half-heartedly.

  Anger gave way to depression as he realised Edward’s catty remarks were probably true. Julian had been looking for promotion and changing sections was part of that. Now Disputes was closed to him, most likely—he might even end up with a formal warning, depending on how mean the guy was. People weren’t usually blamed for their kems’ behaviour but Pyon was just such a damn pest. Cute but a nuisance.

  And naturally, just as Julian thought that, his nuisance reappeared and sat in front of him, head tilted and his mouth open, showing his perfect pink tongue. Julian couldn’t resist scratching him under the jaw, which made Pyon purr and snuggle.

  “Why do you have to be so naughty, hmmm? You’re sweet when you’re like this, but then you go off and ruin my life.”

  No reply except a sad little squeak. Julian patted Pyon’s head. “Okay, enough of that.” he said, shoving Pyon gently away. “I guess I’ll need to work harder if I want that promotion.”

  The afternoon dragged and his depression over the stupid coffee trouser thing didn’t really lift. It didn’t help that Edward seemed to be always there, smirking knowingly whenever Julian had to make a photocopy or fetch a file. It made him want to ask if the man had any work to do, but Edward was well in with the partners, untouchable, and able to get away with just about anything. His kem was actually really sweet and well behaved, far too nice for someone like Edward. But no one chose their kems and kems couldn’t choose their hosts, so Lilbi was stuck with Edward just as Julian was stuck with Pyon. It wasn’t fair.

  He got off the bus one stop early so he could pick up groceries. He was out of cheese and bread, and he figured he might as well pick up something for supper too. Shopping had to be thought about, since the supermarket sent Pyon crazy with delight. Julian had tried doing big shops less often, but that just given Pyon more chance to run riot, and Julian had now been banned from two supermarkets as a result. So now he just did quick runs at a store near the apartment, grabbing things as fast as he could, and apologising if necessary when he paid. So far it had sort of worked, but it was a damn nuisance having to shop every second day or so.

  He liked the little store though, with its cool, shady interior and piled-high stock, the scents of spices and weird vegetables not exactly tempting but now familiar. One good thing about his regular visits, was that the shopkeeper now knew him well and was indulgent of Pyon madly dashing around as if he hadn’t seen the place at least a couple of hundred times or more. The man smiled at him as Julian rushed in, and his kem chirped in delight to see Pyon, who immediately jumped off Julian’s shoulder and rushed over to lick and cuddle his friend. Julian hoped that would keep the little brat out of mischief long enough for him to grab the essentials. He raced around, knowing where everything was by now, dumping it all in his basket and hoping to get out of here in under five minutes, which was as long as Pyon could usually behave himself for.

  He ran around the end of a display, and nearly collided with someone. “Oh, sorry—” He stared at the man he’d nearly knocked over. “You!”

  “Excuse me,” Zachary Ledbetter said as he made to move past Julian, his cold expression unchanged from the morning. The big kem sat on his shoulders again, his tail flicking lazily as if he was utterly bored by Julian’s presence.

  “No…wait! Please…um… Look, this morning…I'm really sorry about your trousers…”

  “I don’t wish to talk about my clothing, thank you. Will you excuse me?”

  “Yes…no, wait!”

  Ledbetter’s eyes narrowed. “Are you always this impertinent?”

  “Are you always this damn rude?” All the resentment he’d bottled up over the day came spilling out. “What the hell did you mean by that crack this morning?”

  “I have no idea—”

  “That, that…‘I do’ crap. About Pyon. What did you mean?”

  Ledbetter’s upper lip curled in a sneer and he started to walk away. Without thinking, Julian grabbed his arm, and the man, probably startled by a mere assistant grabbing a solicitor in this manner, actually stopped.

  “Why won’t you tell me? Pyon’s a bloody nuisance—if you know how to make him behave…”

  Julian stopped as Ledbetter drew himself up to his considerable height, and his kem’s fur started to bristle. “Make your kem behave? Make him do anything? You have one of the most beautiful gifts known to mankind and you call him a ‘bloody nuisance’? You make me sick—you’re the nuisance. It’s you who doesn’t know how to behave. I pity your poor little fellow, having to put up with you. I wish there was some way of taking him away from you, but since there isn’t…” He sneered again, his green eyes narrowed icily. “You complain of his discipline? Look at you. You’re dirty, rumpled, dashing about like a lunatic, paying no attention to him—you don’t know where he is, do you?”

  “He’s with the shop—”

  “He’s behind you, terrified. And your kem is sick. Sick because you’ve made him sick.”

  Julian whirled—and yes, there was Pyon, sitting on a display of cans, head tilted and looking rather wary. At least he wasn’t causing a problem. “He’s not sick.”

  “Yes he is.” Julian felt Pyon dive inside him again, and Ledbetter pointed at his chest. “And there’s the proof. How many times a day does he do that?”

  “I don’t know, maybe fifty—“

  “Fifty? And do you know why?”

  Julian frowned. “It’s what kems do. They need nourishment or something.”

  “Or something, yes. Your kem is starving, and you’re feeding him junk.” Ledbetter grabbed Julian’s shopping basket off him. “Look at this rubbish. Biscuits, processed cheese, white bread…and you have dark circles under your eyes so you don’t sleep sufficiently, your skin is spotty and your physique flabby. When did you last eat a piece of fruit
or take any exercise? This month? This year? Dreadful. Your kem can only be as healthy as you are. Pyon has to keep topping up because you give him so little to nourish him. His fur is poor, and his behaviour results from both bad diet and your disgusting attitude. I’ve seen you twice for less than five minutes at a time and most of that you’ve spent shouting at the poor creature. Do you have any idea how much that hurts them?”

  He shoved the basket back at Julian. His beautiful kem gave his host’s face a lick and Ledbetter reached up and stroked the kem’s tail with reverent gentleness. “You, sir, are unworthy of the honour of hosting a kem. If you had a spit of decency, you’d pull yourself together and give Pyon a long and happy life. Instead you’ll indulge yourself until you drop dead at forty of a heart attack, and take him with you. Now good—“

  Pyon chose that moment to rematerialise—and leap across to Ledbetter’s arm. He scrambled up until he suddenly saw Ledbetter’s kem—he scrambled down in panic. Julian had never seen him react like that to another kem before—was he afraid? He reached out to pick Pyon up, but then stopped because Ledbetter beat him to it.

  “Hey, Pyon,” the man said in a low, gentle voice as he cupped Pyon’s bottom. “You’re safe, little fellow. Linis won’t hurt you, you know that. Yes, that’s right. Let me have a look at you. May I?”

  Julian blinked at Ledbetter being so polite and formal with his kem, but the man ignored him, carefully lifting Pyon up. “Aren’t you handsome,” Ledbetter crooned, still keeping his voice very quiet, while Pyon gazed back adoringly. Ledbetter’s entire demeanour, his expression, had softened and became solicitous, kind—almost like a completely new person. He scratched behind Pyon’s ears and stroked the kem down his black-furred back and tail with one long sweep of his big hand. Pyon began to trill as he hardly ever did with Julian—and here he was, cuddling a complete stranger.

  “Thank you, he’s mine,” Julian snapped, unaccountably jealous. “Pyon!”