A/N:

Yes, another story. It was a little gift from my muse. At 2:00am. I'm not happy with her, but I can't argue with the result. I'm also undecided on this one. If you want to weigh in on the topic, check out the poll. I'm looking for more active feedback, so I hope this works. I know I have a ton of active projects, but I can't help it. Constructive feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!

"And our fearless hero trekked through the dunes for days on end, with no hope of help, all the way… to the dig site," Nick grumbled to himself. "In the blistering heat. Uphill. Both ways. In the middle of nowhere. With a hangover."

He sighed. His head throbbed and his feet were scorched, but he'd made it to the main site from camp. It was only two hundred meters, but he had to cross sand hot enough to boil water on contact. Nick was not built for the desert. He was a little short for a fox, but that didn't diminish his thick, red coat in the least. Sweltering his way through his days was old news, but not a day went by that he didn't consider shaving his tail.

"Become an archaeologist, Nick! That sounds great! You'll get to spend all your time in the library, researching dead cultures and myths, barely ever seeing another soul." He snorted. "And when you finally get your big break to see those exotic places you've always dreamed of, you'll end up talking to yourself because there's no one within six thousand miles. You'll eat the same things every day for months. There won't be anything to drink that isn't warm…"

Nick looked out over the rocky, sand-filled landscape, blinking dust from his bright green eyes. "What the hell was I thinking?"

It'd been six weeks since he'd seen another soul. The last caravan had come and gone, leaving him enough supplies for six months. Canned and preserved foods, emergency medical supplies, a whole boatload of his research materials and reference books—all delivered and left in his little camp. Then, they'd left. Since then, he'd seen no one. Nick sighed and shuffled into the decrepit gateway of the ancient ruin.

"My great discovery!" He grumbled snidely. "The culmination of thirty-four years of life."

This was supposed to be his big break. Almost a decade earning his degrees and two years scrounging up the grants and investment had led to this. He'd found the bloody city! And they'd cut his funding. Cut him off entirely, in fact. The letter Nick had received three months ago had made it abundantly clear that the university wanted nothing further to do with him, nor did the private investors. He was on his own and anything he found was no business of theirs.

"I'm the proud owner of a huge pile of rocks." He was getting tired of his own lip.

Walking through the grand halls of the buried city, Nick could only be amazed. This was the discovery of a lifetime. The architecture had never been documented anywhere, before. The stones used in the construction weren't native to the region in any way, suggesting this place had once been a massive center for trade. The size of the place alone suggested a population in the millions and long before Rome reached the same milestone. This should have been a dream come true!

Nick's fists clenched. "Of course, they stopped caring when there was no room filled with gold for them to plunder."

His first three weeks had shown good progress. His educated guess at the site had paid off almost immediately and they'd had plenty to report by week three. Unfortunately, that was where the good news stopped. Another project that was certain to turn a profit had appeared and sucked up all the funding. His project—which held massive implications for ancient anthropological development on a continental scale—was reduced, then sidelined, then cancelled, and finally effectively disavowed.

He'd spent two weeks refuting the dismissal letters and fighting to get the university to back him, to no avail. He'd only had two months from project authorization to the start of the dig. Travel, acclimation, and site setup in a foreign nation—by any standard, that was an incredibly short timeframe and he'd managed it. His nearly immediate results should have accounted for something.

The final nail in the coffin had been the arrival of Finnick during Nick's last visit to civilization. His friend had arrived at his room with a pot of tea and a scowl on his face. The only indicator Nick needed was the

fact that Finnick wouldn't meet his eyes for more than an instant.

"Nick, I hate to tell you this, but you're fucked."

Nick glanced up from his papers. "Don't say that. Not yet."

"Man, pull your head out of the sand." The little fox snorted in disgust. "Your theory was going to turn the whole of academia on its head. The fact that you've turned out to be right?" He shook his head. "No one wants to hear it. Between the academic firestorm your discovery would cause and the political impact, the people in charge want your work buried."

"They sent me here to see if I was right."

"They sent you here so you could cool your heels in the desert for a few months looking for a daydream. You're talented, but no one took your ideas seriously. You're young, unestablished. They wanted to give you a reality check."

Nick slapped his notebook shut. "And then I found something."

"Uh huh." Finnick sipped his tea. "Your lesson in patience became an embarrassment. Now, all anyone wants is you discredited."

Nick felt his stomach in his feet. "They wouldn't."

Finnick nodded. "The PR machine is running flat out. At this point, you're a pariah. If you come back, your evidence will be called a hoax and whatever you think you've done will be suppressed."

"So, I'm done," Nick croaked.

"As an academic? Yeah. You're done." Finnick hopped down from his chair and headed for the door. "I may be able to scavenge an assistant's position somewhere for you. That may become a career of sorts." He shrugged. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Finn. I'll… wait for your call, I guess."

"It'll be a while, Nicky. A few months, at least."

"I've got funding for another eight months if I fire everyone and work the site myself."

Finnick stopped with his paw on the door handle. "That's insane."

"Maybe so, but what else should I do? Spend the next two seasons drunk in a country that doesn't serve alcohol?"

Finnick leaned against the door. "The hashish is good."

Nick regarded him flatly. "My point stands."

"You want to preserve your reputation for posthumous validation." Finnick muttered as he pinched his muzzle.

"It's better than sitting on my ass and watching the sun go by." Nick stood and started packing. "At least, I can do something to keep my mind busy while you work your magic."

"Hey, I promise nothing," Finnick snapped. "I'll do what I can but if you end up a history teacher in some small-town berg, that's what happens."

Nick nodded absently. "I'll stretch the money as long as I can."

Finnick waved his paw in disgust, giving in. "How will I reach you?"

"I have a radio at the site." Nick said over his shoulder form the wardrobe. "It'll be on between five and six in the morning and at night between seven and eight. The local switchboard can put you through to me easily enough."

"No satellite phone?" Finnick asked in surprise.

Nick stopped packing and looked at his friend like he was insane. "Do you have any idea what those cost?"

"Alright." Finnick rubbed his face hard. "Alright! Just do what you need to out there and don't get killed. The last thing I need is you dead of a scorpion sting."

"There aren't any streams out there for me to carry one across on my back." Nick chuckled weakly and turned to face his friend with a smirk. "I make no promises. They're good eating."

"You and your fables…" Finnick grimaced, then grinned and clasped Nick's paw. "Good to see you back."

Finnick left and Nick had returned to the site. All of the graduate assistants had disappeared overnight. No one wanted to be associated with him, or his work, once they heard the news. The workers had trickled away after their final paydays. Within a week, the camp had dwindled to him and a very old jackal who said he reminded her of her grandson. She took care of him for a couple weeks, but left with her grandson when he arrived to collect her. He looked nothing like Nick at all.

The caravan's arrival had been a welcome, if brief, respite from the loneliness a week later. Since then, Nick had been alone. Aside from an occasional radio call from the local rangers, he had no contact with anyone. The sun rose and set every day. The wind blew, the sands gently shifted and scorpions were no longer a tasty treat. His sense of defeat was quickly growing into ennui. Despite all this, Nick kept working.

The painstaking process of unearthing artifacts, photographing them, classifying and cataloguing… It was tedium of the highest order. Nick knew the work. Not long ago he would have sworn he enjoyed it. Now, as he hefted a huge, ornate bottle out of the sand, all he felt was indifference. The piece of history he held in his paws was worth a fortune. Purple glass, filigreed with tarnished silver and crusted with amethysts.

"If it was gold bars, they'd care," he muttered bitterly to himself. "Just melt them down and it's instant cash."

"Maybe there's something left in it." He chuckled as he gently worked at the ornate stopper at the mouth of the bottle—it had to be catalogued separately, anyway, he reasoned. "A little hare of the fox that bit you."

A moment later, he was on his back as a whirlwind of purple, pink and grey engulfed the room. Wind howled like a thousand demons of legend and it was all Nick could do just to crawl to the wall and cower.

Then, there was silence—deafening, cacophonous silence. Nick cracked an eye and scanned the room. Nothing had changed at all, aside from the rabbit standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed. She was petite, curvy and dressed in silks that were sheer enough to leave nothing to his imagination, but still keep her modesty. Barely. It was obvious he'd spent way too long alone in the sun.

"Mortal!" she boomed. "Prepare to feel my wrath!"

Nick slumped against the wall holding his head. "Ugh…"

"Mor-" her head quirked. "Mortal?"

"Whaaat?" he groaned.

Her eyes darted around in confusion. "I'm about to smite you. Shouldn't you be running or something?"

"Nope!" He pulled himself unhappily to his feet. "I don't run from my own hallucinations."

She scoffed. "Hallucinations? I'm not a hallucination. I'm real."

"That's it. No more camel milk before bed." Nick's shook the sand from his clothes and headed for the door.

"Hey!" she called to his back.

Nick flinched. "Could you keep it down? My headache has a migraine."

Her ears sagged. "You're what?"

"Alright… Here's the deal." He turned to face her, pinching his muzzle.

Nick took a deep breath and steadied himself. This wasn't the first time a mammal had endured a hallucination. He knew what it meant and how to handle it.

He faced his delusion squarely and took his own mind to task. "I'm in the middle of the dessert, dehydrated, alone and probably suffering heat stroke after a night of smuggled Grappa and camel milk. I am currently talking with a figment of my imagination—a rather dim one, too—that's decided to show up looking like a harem girl, because I've spent too long around ancient Ottoman texts." He held up a finger forestalling her response. "Now, I'm going to the well for a very long drink and then on to my tent for the rest of the day. I'm clearly not well."

"Now, listen here, mortal-" she sputtered indignantly.

"Shh!" Nick plopped a finger on her lips, silencing her. "You are welcome to come along and continue to annoy me, but I'm leaving."

"You aren't going anywhere," the apparition blustered, blocking his path. "When I was imprisoned, I swore for the first five hundred years to shower riches and reward to whomever released me. For the second five hundred years, I swore vengeance upon them!"

He rolled his eyes and side-stepped around her. "Can I get the reward first and then the smiting?"

"I-" She blinked. "What?"

"Listen, sweetheart, I'm not sticking around to hear out your carefully crafted speech." He walked backwards as he spoke. "Besides, you're my hallucination, so I know exactly what you'd say, anyway. The only delusion I'm interested in has a porn soundtrack, so either you can get on your knees or you can get out of my way."

Her face and ears flushed. "I kneel before no one but my master!"

"That's a good start, but not enough to keep me here." He wiggled his fingers at her and slipped out the door. "Toodles!"

Nick tromped through the sand towards his camp with a purpose. He barely felt the usual searing heat on his paws. Of all the outcomes he'd envisioned for this expedition, only the bad ones were coming to pass and he was fed up with it. He pulled a bucket of water from the well and filled his water bladder before heading for his tent. Once there, he plopped the bladder onto its peg to hang and pulled out a half-empty bottle of Grappa. He needed some hair of the fox and a nap.

Hours later, the sun was down. The cold of the desert night had seeped through Nick's campsite, rousing the todd. He fumbled to light a traveler's lamp and checked his watch.

"Damn…" he flumped back onto his cot. "Nine o'clock. Sorry, Finnick."

Nick wanted to go back to sleep, but two things stopped him. One was a very urgent call of nature. The other was the bottle he'd found. Assuming that it hadn't been a dream, that artifact was valuable. If nothing else, it would pay for his plane ticket and possibly a bit more if he found a good buyer. Not what he wanted, but he didn't have the luxury of academic ideals, anymore. He had to survive.

For the first time in months, he genuinely looked into the future he had waiting for him beyond the dig site. He didn't see much. Even if Finnick managed to find him something, Nick had years of hard work ahead of him to repair the damage being done to his reputation. I was entirely possible he'd never recover no matter what he did. At the least, he'd need a nest egg. And if Finnick found nothing… The shiver up his spine was only partly due to the desert cold.

"I may as well see what I can get from this place." He swallowed his own distaste. "Academically and personally."

Once he'd answered nature's call, Nick collected what he'd need—what he termed his graverobber's kit. If the dig was disavowed, then no one could complain if he took what he found. The city didn't exist and there was nothing for anyone else to claim. It sickened him, but there wasn't much choice. He had to look out for himself.

Retracing his steps through the halls and alleyways, Nick found himself filled with self-loathing. This wasn't a central area of the city. It was homes. Nice homes, admittedly. They'd managed to survive for a millennium under the desert sands and were still architecturally sound. The roofs didn't even leak. They were an archaeological marvel, but they were places people lived. The remains of their lives deserved the respect of preservation, not plundering.

He sighed as he shuffled up to the semi-unearthed structure he'd been working in earlier. "It's not much of a difference, Nicky. Private collectors or a museum. Both pay and one pays better."

As he entered the structure, he heard a sound that stopped his feet. It could have been sand blowing in the wind. It could also have been sniffling. His eyes closed and he steeled himself. There was no way that Nick Wilde was going to be frightened off his dig by his own imagination. He gripped his lamp and shifted his rucksack more firmly on his shoulder.

The light from his lamp shone off the glittering purple bottle when he entered the room. It also illuminated the rabbit. Nick slapped himself. Hard.

"Ow…" Nick flexed his jaw. "Not dreaming. Great."

The lapidae curiosity was dressed the same as he remembered. Her clothes were sheer, curves displayed, and stature small. She was the source of the sniffling. As he approached, she opened her eyes. They shone in the darkness with an eerie amaranthine light.

"Not dreaming." Nick repeated to himself. "Not dreaming. Not dreaming."

"I told you that this morning," the rabbit croaked.

"You told me you weren't a hallucination. There's a difference." He wanted to slap himself, again. This was not the time for pedantic observations.

"You must be a scholar," she quipped.

That brought him up short. "How's that?"

Her laugh was watery. "Only a scholar would quibble over such a minor detail."

Nick couldn't help but chuckle. It fizzled quickly. The longer he looked at her, the more improbable she became. If he wasn't dreaming, there was the very real possibility he was speaking to something that shouldn't exist. In the stark light of his lamp she appeared normal enough. Her appearance would pass for a rabbit to anyone's observations, until she looked them in the eyes.

Her eyes glittered in the lamp light, but Nick remembered their first meeting. He swallowed thickly and lowered the lamp's shutter part way. At the change in light, she lifted her eyes to his and his breath caught. Her irises glowed with an ethereal, smoky purple hue. They were captivating and terrifying. Further proof she wasn't mammalian appeared when she smiled weakly. Two tiny fires kindled in her eyes, like banked coals in her pupils.

It was all Nick could do to keep his feet and ask, "What are you?"

"I was once a revered djinni. I served this house," she gestured around herself vaguely, "a thousand years ago."

Legends began drifting up from Nick's memory and clicked with her arrival. "But you were imprisoned."

She nodded feebly. "And now, the empire is gone—consumed by the sands of time."

"Why were you imprisoned?" Nick asked as he edged closer.

"It matters little, now." She shrugged. "All the players in that petty drama are dead."

"Have you been in here all day?" He felt like a moron.

The flat look she rewarded him with could have melted stone. It was blunted slightly by the sniffling and the red-rimed eyes. That, however, only made him feel like a cad for having nothing else to offer their exchange.

"I rode the winds to the corners of the Empire, looking for any sign of what I knew. When that failed, I searched for my people. Everything I found was… strange." She shifted, making herself smaller. "I returned here before sunset."

Millions of things flitted through Nick's mind. He was speaking to a creature of legend. She'd been present during the heyday of the city he'd discovered. She was a treasure trove of knowledge just waiting to be tapped! She was miserable, alone and afraid, stuck in an alien place with everything she'd ever cared for gone. She had nothing. Not so different from himself.

Empathy was generally a shortcoming among academics. There wasn't much call for it, especially in a branch as cutthroat as his. It was a challenge to unearth the sense of humanity necessary to offer her a hand up. Her huge, frightened, confused eyes staring up at him made it a lot easier. Sometimes, he hated being male.

He held out his paw to her. "Come on."

She looked at the appendage and then him curiously. "To where?"

"To my hovel," Nick grumbled to himself before clearing his throat. "My camp isn't far from here. The least I can offer you is hospitality."

"That would be… welcome." The rabbit took his paw and stood. "And who are you?"

"I'm not so sure, anymore." Her perplexed expression amused him and he continued, "My name is Nicolas Wilde, but everyone calls me Nick. Past that, well… It's a work in progress."

The smile that grew on her face confused him. It looked considering, proud—unusual reactions, he thought as he collected his lamp. "Do you have a name?"

"I am a Djinni." She touched her forehead and bowed in a gesture he'd never seen before. "I have no name, but the one I am given."

That gave him pause. "So, I need to give you one?"

"Need? No." She shook her head and smiled. "It would help, though."

"Judy." He winced as soon as the word left his mouth.

"That is my name?" She inquired. "Why do you look displeased?"

"If I'm giving out names, the name of an old…" he struggled to find a good word, "infatuation would be a bad one, I'd say."

"Not at all." Her paw reached up to gently brush the dust and sand from his whiskers. "It says much what comes to your mind at moments of inspiration."

As Nick looked into her eyes, he tried to understand what was happening. There was no desire in her actions and no promise. Her gestures were simple and without subterfuge. Strangely, he felt as though he was being weighed, measured. Tested. It was a peculiar sensation.

Clearing his throat, he collected himself enough to say, "My camp is this way. I think we could do with some food."

The rabbit smiled and bowed in acquiescence. "Lead on, then, Nick."

Back at camp, Nick did what he could to make good on his offers of hospitality. It wasn't until he tried to bring Judy into it that he realized how embarrassing it was. When the workers had all departed, they hadn't bothered to disassemble any of it, so Nick was effectively the sole occupant of a small town. Several courses of sleeping tents, workshops and store houses were all passed by in an increasingly awkward silence. His only attempt to explain left his feeling foolish. Throughout their trek, Judy said nothing. Instead, she merely listened and seemed to take it all in.

Once he gave up his rationalizations, they made good time. The area he actually used was quite limited. He guided her to his tent and then showed her where the latrines and showers were. The latrines she seemed amused at—possibly due to his awkwardness—, but the idea of the showers fascinated her when he explained them.

"You mean, you make it rain on you, instead of sinking into a pool of water to bathe?"

"Yes, I suppose that's one way to put it."

"How peculiar." She cast a considering eye over the shower stall. "You must show me how it is done."

"We can discuss that tomorrow." Nick tried not to think about what she was suggesting. "Right now, I think some food is in order."

"What foodstuffs could you have in this place? There is nothing for many miles."

"Some of it you'll recognize. Some of it you won't." He led the way to the mess tent. "Some of it, you'll wish you didn't."

"That is not encouraging," she commented as she followed him through the flap.

A moment later, he heard her gasp. He'd flicked the lights on without thinking and clearly startled her.

"Sorry about that."

"Light without fire… Interesting. I once heard of such a feat accomplished far east of here."

Nick paused in the middle of putting on an apron. The idea she just presented would overhaul every commonly accepted theory on technology in the middle east, at the turn of the last millennia. And she said it like it was passing the time of day. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"It's not a dream," he reminded himself. "It's not a bloody dream."

"Of course, it isn't," he heard her reply as she joined him in the kitchen.

In the brighter light, he finally got a good look at her without the heat, hangover, or shock dulling his senses. It brought into sharp relief just how long he'd been without company. And how much longer than that he'd been without female company. Her choice of seat on the counter near him did nothing to blunt that realization.

She was close as could be gotten to the idea of "perfect", at least to him. He liked petite females, grey fur and curves. What she wore only accented her features. She was open, earnest, frank and obviously intelligent. That was straying into dangerous territory for the reynard. There were quite a few females in his department back at the university who could turn heads at fifty paces, but were as sharp as a pound of wet leather. They were what he considered "art females"—nice to look at, but they could stay on the gallery wall. A smart female was something else. It was that particular trait that had gotten him in so much trouble and hurt so badly.

His eyes traveled over the rabbit in silk and he wondered to himself why on earth he'd given her the same name as the female that had done him so much harm.

"You're staring."

Her words snapped him out of his own head. "Sorry! I'm sorry. I, um, drifted off into my head there, for a moment."

"There's no need to apologize." She leaned back and crossed her legs. "I don't mind."

"Are you teasing me?"

"It's my nature." She rolled her hip and slid to lay on her stomach across the counter. "Djinni are playful. It's been a long time since I could indulge myself."

Rather than respond, Nick set about preparing something close to a meal. There was plenty of everything, but all of it was unappealing to him. His supply of local fresh foods was long gone. Vegetables, fruits, cheese, honey, dates and olives were all available in preserved form and tasted like it. He was sick of camp bread, as well, but there was nothing else.

As he prepared, his mind drifted and he forgot he had company. The loneliness took hold again, as did the isolation. His hands slowed into their typical indifferent pace of preparing a boring meal he'd barely taste and he plodded through it. Two bowls and a small plate were placed on the cafeteria style serving counter. Once the kettle for tea and his little coffee pot were starting to boil, Nick pulled them from the heat. The coffee went into an urn and the tea into a teapot. He set them on the tray beside his other dishes. That done, he placed a salt cellar onto the tray and braced himself on the work surface, staring into space.

When the paw touched his arm, he shrieked.

"Good gods, rabbit!"

"Peace, fox!" She waved her arms and winced. "Calm yourself."

Nick deflated, slumping against the counter. "You scared me half to death."

"Yes, you screamed fit to wake the dead." Judy lifted his chin to meet her eyes. "Where did you go?"

For a long moment he couldn't speak. "I've… Been here alone for a while. I forgot you were there. I'm sorry. I just… went back to my routine."

Her paw slid along his jaw to rest against his cheek. "You have been alone for a long time. Too long."

Nick shallowed and removed his apron, hanging it on a peg. "I usually eat in my tent."

Judy followed him to the front of the counter, but beat him to the tray. Without a word, she lifted it and turned towards the tent entrance. Nick was a little surprised, but not unduly. He'd embarrassed himself enough that she was being helpful. Not a proud thing, but appreciated.

When he arrived at his tent, he barely recognized it. His cot, sea chest, and luggage was moved out of the way. In the center of the floor, his rug had been turned into a dining space. His tea cup and coffee mug had been found and added to the spread, along with a pair of glasses.

He pulled down the water bladder and she reached for it, but he lifted it out of her grasp. "A poor host lets his guest serve him."

Her eyebrows rose, but she made no protest. Nick sat opposite her and filled the glasses with water. Somehow, he was unsurprised when she moved to sit closer to him. Her eyes were filled with curiosity. It made him smile.

"Don't stand on ceremony. You haven't eaten in a millennium." She looked at him in confusion and he smirked. "You must be hungry."

She snorted, plucked an olive from a bowl, and ate. "My first."

Nick wanted to ask what she meant, but found a date shoved into his mouth the moment he opened it. Taking the hint, he left the questions for later.

Some time later, the dishes had been picked clean. A small pile of olive pits was the only evidence that food had ever been present. The tea pot was empty courtesy of a certain djinni's enjoyment. She'd tried everything—even the coffee, which she claimed tasted like ash. When the meal ended, Nick pulled out the last bottle of Grappa and filled a glass while she removed the tray and dishes to the side. With the bottle empty, Nick set it on the top of his sea chest and offered the cup to Judy.

She bowed as she sat. "Bread and salt, figs and wine. You promised hospitality and you have fulfilled your promise."

As she drank, Nick had to force himself not to stare. "I'm glad I managed that much. I have no idea what your empire considered hospitable."

"You've done very well, despite not knowing." She passed the glass back to him. "My people would have been pleased."

"Speaking of your people," Nick began, "how is it we can communicate? I don't know the language of this place and you've been in a bottle until this morning, so how?"

She smiled and shifted to recline next to him. "The Djinni possess the gift of tongues. All languages are known to us."

"That's convenient." Nick sipped the wine.

"Indeed." Judy lifted the glass from his paw and drank, again. "I'm surprised that fact did not survive in legends."

Nick snorted and accepted the wine, again. "There are many stories about Djinni or that have them in the narrative, but they aren't exactly in-depth tales." He went to sip the glass and found it was empty. "Damn."

Before he could move, Judy stood and collected the bottle he'd left on the chest. She poured, refilling the glass. "I'd swear that was empty."

"It was," she replied. "One of my own gifts."

Nick blinked for a moment and pinched himself on the arm. "Still not dreaming…"

Judy laughed. "You are a strange one."

"Lone archaeologist in the middle of the desert? Yeah, I'm a bit strange." He took a large swallow. "To be fair, your sudden appearance didn't do a lot to refute my assumptions. I half expected you to offer me three wishes, or something. Like in the legends."

"Oh, those stories are true." She took the glass and drank. "Wishes can be offered, but they will not come true as you'd think."

Nick wiggled into a more comfortable recline. "Yes... those stories always have unfortunate consequences for the wisher, don't they?"

"You suspect me of mischief." She smirked, offering him the refilled glass. "You should, but you have nothing to fear. As a scholar, you know that history and legend are rarely truth."

"Judging from my own experience, I'd say they never are," Nick said mostly to his wine. "Not the whole truth, anyway."

The silence stretched. The wine was working its magic in his blood, but that was not ideal. Nick had been starved of company for too long and he wanted to enjoy it. A moment of consideration later, he placed the glass on the sea chest and levered himself to his feet.

"I think I want to get some air." He offered his paw to Judy. "Would you care to join me?"

With a wordless smile and a nod, she took his paw and followed him out into the night. There was starlight and a waxing crescent moon in the sky—plenty to see by. In the stillness of the desert night, the pair walked out to a dune that overlooked the camp. Nick plopped down and leaned back on his arms to enjoy the stars. Judy joined him, but chose to recline facing him instead. In the ethereal light, her fur shone and Nick was hard pressed to keep his eyes skyward. The glow of her eyes made it worse.

As the silence had stretched, he heard her voice through the dark. "What would you do with your three wishes?"

"Really?" Nick chuckled. "Is this where the fairy tale goes wrong for the hero?"

She shrugged. "It's a question."

"The classic answer is 'wealth, women and long life!'," he scoffed, "but that's always ended disastrously."

"And I am disinterested in the answers of others," she pressed. "What do you want most? What three things do you most desire?"

Nick sat and thought. She was in complete earnest. It sobered him slightly.

"What I want..." The wine in his belly swirled uncomfortably, "Is for my mother to be well, healthy and comfortable for the rest of her many days."

Her ears sparked to full attention. "Is she unwell?"

"No! She's healthy as an ox." He sighed and shifted to lay on his back, staring at the stars. "But she gave up a lot for my education and future. She deserves better than working hard every day for the rest of her life as a small business accountant. Especially, when I've failed so spectacularly."

She hummed at his answer before asking, "Your second wish?"

"To be vindicated in my lifetime." He could taste the bitterness of his own words. "That my discovery of this city be acknowledged and accepted by academia before my death."

"And your third?" Her voice was somehow very close to his ear. He didn't even hear her move.

The words were out of his mouth before the thought was fully formed. "To never be lonely, again."

Her paw landed gently on his chest. "Family, honor, and humility. Worthy desires well chosen."

He side-eyed her. "But you weren't offering to fulfill them, correct?"

"No." She giggled. "Not directly. Some are impossible for one being, even me."

"Small reliefs..." He sighed in relief, then tensed. "Directly?"

"That isn't to say you couldn't achieve them..." Her paw came to rest on his chest. "With my help."

The only thought in his head was, "Huh?"

She held out her hand. "Please."

Nick offered his own, in turn. He was unsure what she wanted, but he was completely unprepared for the tiny dagger that appeared in her other paw, glittering in the starlight. Before he could react, she pricked his palm. He tried to yank his hand away, hit her grip was like iron. The dagger vanished. As he watched, caught between fascination and flight, Judy lowered her face to his paw and licked the small rivulet of blood. It was followed by a kiss to the same spot and the paw tingled. When she leaned back, he felt the wound was gone.

"My second."

Before Nick could puzzle out her words, or voice a question, he had all thought blasted from his mind. Both her paws descended on the front of his trousers, caressing him. He watched as his belt and fly were undone, freeing him into the night air.

"When you told me to kneel, did you think I was unaware of what you wanted?" She smirked as her paws slid over his manhood, coaxing him quickly to full arousal. "The act is old, even if the names are different."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with a paw over his mouth. "Be not afraid. I am no innocent. I know how to please a male."

Then, to his astonishment, she worshipped him. She descended upon his manhood as though he were a long-lost lover, kissing and caressing, bathing him with her tongue and lips so slowly and thoroughly he thought he'd go insane from the pleasure. She was no amateur. The sensation built and built until nick was sure he couldn't take any more. Then she slipped the head of him into her mouth and he learned what pleasure was.

All he comprehended was that his back was arched and his paws were grappling for purchase on anything. After an agony of what felt like hours the pleasure stopped and he panted on the desert floor. There had been no release, but he felt as though he was floating on air. Glancing down, he saw her waiting, poised over his member with a grin. It deepened and she flicked her tongue out to lap at him. He gasped at the sensation as much as the fact that her tongue was unnaturally long and had three forks.

Her tongue flicked out again and again, reaching further with each pass. Before long, it was curling around him and more with every lick—once, twice, three times her tongue corkscrewed around him and it didn't stop. He felt as though he was being cocooned in heat and pleasure which grew as more and more of him was wrapped in her oral appendage.

Finally, she stopped. Her frighteningly long tongue was wrapped around him from tip to knot and he was taught as a piano wire from her ministrations. He chanced a look and wished he hadn't. Her smiling up at him as her tongue rolled up and down, pulsing along his length was too much for him. His eyes rolled into his head and his mind emptied as his seed spilled into her mouth.

He was only vaguely aware of her speaking a moment later. "My third."

Nick sat up and forced his mind into gear. "Wha-what?"

"I've partaken of your generosity, your life's blood and your essence," she crooned. "I am now yours, willingly bonded to your service."

Nick could only goggle at her words as she climbed up to face him eye to eye.

"As to your wishes, I will do all I can to see them come to pass." Her paws lifted his hand and turned it so she could kiss his palm. "Your mother's future will be simple enough."

It took him four tries to ask, "How?"

"My people are of the earth and know her treasures." She smiled tenderly. "Wealth comes to us as naturally as breath. For your honor, all my knowledge and wisdom are yours. You have merely to labor and ask the right questions."

His mind whirled as he digested the implications.

"And your last wish, is the simplest," She purred, pressing her cheek against his. "I fulfill it myself."

"Wait." His throat was dry as he whispered, "You mean-"

"You will never be lonely again, master."