Unintended Grace
By Paul Calhoun

Dear reader:
This is where the main series really began. The TG elements get stronger as everything continues, as does the cumulative strangeness of the entire situation. Here we see Mike at age 15 and well into the 2030s going to his first con and meeting one of the main characters for the rest of the series.
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Chapter 1:
Getting Out the Door

Nora watched Victor pack, her stance showing her disapproval as much as her words. "I just don't think he's ready."
Victor continued to stuff the orange fur into its case. "He's more than twice as old as I was when I first went to a con."
Nora smiled softly. "Your parents were strange."
"Parent." Victor corrected. "Only one ever took me."
Nora continued the argument. "I didn't mean age, I meant in maturity. Mike's too innocent. You'll scandalize him."
Victor did look up at that, his expression registering his incredulosity. "Innocent? Our son? He's fifteen. At age ten, he was already giving me a run for my moral money. Accepting? Yes. Innocent? Not at all."
Nora put her hands on her hips in only partially manufactured outrage. "Mike is a sweet, darling little boy and I'll not hear you speak of him like he's some sort of-"
"Adult?" Victor asked. "He's your little boy, but he learned adult behavior earlier than most. Besides, it's not like everyone there will be as strange as me."
"As if that kind of concentration of odd is even possible." Nora muttered.
"Most of them are weirder."
"Thank you very much," Nora replied, "that really sets my mind at rest. I note that the only suit you've packed so far is Jamina."
"Oh, that's not for me." Victor smiled mischievously. "I'm taking Saliaven. No, that's for Mike."
Nora sighed. "If you get my little man knocked up-"
Victor's smile widened. "You're learning."
"Five years with you is a true education. In all seriousness, you will keep an eye on him?"
"Inasmuch as I need to. This isn't like some cons, you know, it's very quiet. Panels, the masquerade, maybe some low-key parties. He'll be fine. I wouldn't take him to a really off-the-wall con first. Haven't I always been trustworthy?"
Nora kissed him on the cheek. "Mostly." She rolled her eyes for his benefit. "I guess since I'd already told Mike he could go, I can't take it back. Even if he does decide he'd rather go as a girl than as a boy. I wonder sometimes if I should have been more involved in teaching him values. Five years with you and he's a crossdressing furry who goes to conventions and has his father," she gave Victor a dirty look, "show up at a party dressed as a teenage vixen and claim she's his date. Mostly trustworthy may be too much."
Victor grinned and shrugged modestly. "It did wonders for his social life. They never found out.”
"Yes," Nora replied flatly. "He's almost as good at acting normal when he has to as you are. If I didn't love you, I think I'd have to consider you a bad influence."
It was Victor's turn to kiss his wife on the cheek. "See you in a couple of days."
Nora put her hand on his chest. "Not before I give my son a few words of warning. Going to a con as a teenage boy with only a few females is one thing. Going as a girl in a sea of sex-starved men is another."
"You're going to give him a stern talking to?"
"At least as stern as you did when he asked for Jamina. I may not have experience as a transvestite fursuiter, but I do have experience as a teenage girl. I think some wisdom from both sides is required."
Victor replied, "You know me too well."
Nora's lips met his as she said, "I do indeed."
Victor smiled as Nora pulled back a moment. "Are you sure you don't want me to get you a suit? You could come to cons with us."
Nora embraced him again. "I think I like the feel of warm fur on my skin more than I'd like the feeling of having the fur."
"There's where we differ."
Nora whispered, "I prefer to think of it as not having to compromise."
"What about talking to Mike?"
Nora pushed Victor onto the bed. "I'd prefer to do that alone, and if I delay you packing for a few minutes, you'll be too busy catching up to try to follow me."

Mike sat quietly as his mother tried to find the right words. After a few seconds of silence as she attempted to think of a way to begin properly he said, "You're worried about me going to the con as Jamina."
Nora's smile was wry. "I thought you'd be embarrassed to talk to me about it."
Mike shrugged. "I'm trying a new tactic. I'm going to try to understand your position and be reasonable, frank and open. After all, it doesn't serve either of us for me to get indignant or you to get flustered."
Nora replied, "Sometimes I worry that you're growing up too fast."
Mike smiled, "Of course you are, mom. All parents to, and I am growing up faster. Living in such an enlightened household does that. Is it so wrong? It's only a recent historical development that kids of my age are still considered real children. In any period prior to this one, I'd already be doing something productive. Even the nobility, well, especially the nobility, tended to marry their kids off by sixteen."
Nora choked. "I'm not sure I want to think about that."
Mike said, "It's just a con. A quiet one at that. I won't be Jamina the entire time, and I have no interest in doing anything that would worry you apart from what you already know about." He colored. "I just... well... I thought a girl would be accepted more quickly."
Nora got up and hugged Mike. "I don't think you have to worry about that."
Mike smiled as Nora went back to her seat. "I know, but it'll still be fun. If it makes you feel better, I'll slip a metal plate into one knee. If any boy gets too fresh, he'll spend the rest of the con bent over."
Nora laughed. "That's all I can ask. Fine. Don't spend too much time as someone else, though. You'd do well to have people know you as well as Jamina. I'm glad I can trust you, kiddo. Your dad's responsible enough on his own, but you know he's a scatterbrain and has a short attention span. I'd rather know that you'll keep an eye on yourself. Not that he won't be doing the same."
Mike got up and kissed his mother on the head. "I'll be good and virtuous and knee in the nadgers anyone who tries to do anything you'd disapprove of."
Mike walked into his parents' room to find Victor just finishing putting Saliaven into the suitcase. "Almost finished?"
Victor snapped the case closed. "Please. I've only done the fursuits. Unless you want to be fullsuited for three days straight, I'm not done."
Mike laughed. "As tempting as the idea is, I think I'll pass. Mom was slowing you down?"
Victor smiled lazily. "Yeah."
Mike threw a pair of rolled-up socks at Victor. "Ew! I may be enlightened, but don't push it. I meant holding you up by giving you some last minute advice."
Victor's smile softened. "That too. She's very concerned about you." He changed to a mock-whisper, "Just between you and me, I don't think she entirely trusts me to keep you from going to bed with the first good looking tomcat that catches your eye."
Mike replied, "Only marginally further than she can throw you. Luckily she trusts me."
"Good. It saves me having to be the one who gets eviscerated if something goes wrong."
Mike helped him fold shirts. "Oh, I don't think you're off the hook. More likely she'd turn us both into haggis."
Victor sighed dramatically. "Minced up and stuffed into my own stomach. If only I was that kind of masochist."
"The suicidal kind?"
"I could go dirty, but since I'm your father and that would be wrong, I'll just admit defeat."
Mike tossed him some more clothes. "Here is de sock. Let it admit de feet."
Victor zipped closed a suitcase. "Ah, puns. The con will teach you much, cricket."
"What happened to grasshopper?"
"You make too much noise to be a grasshopper. Watch it or I'll call you locust. You eat enough."
Mike laughed, "I'm a teenager!"
Victor put the second suitcase next to the first. "A likely story." He looked around. "I think we've got everything. Let's get going."
Mike took the big case with the fursuits while Victor took the small one with their clothes. "Don't pretend I didn't see you slip in some clothes for Jamina. Thanks."
"Just making sure, son. Jamina was never a nudist."
Mike replied, "Thanks again for letting me borrow her."
Victor said, "It's a good thing you're a little smaller than I am. Too big and nothing can be done. Too small-"
"And I can always stick something in to fill the gap." Mike laughed. "I know, I know. Mom may not let me go out wearing Jamina, but I've borrowed some of the others, you know."
Victor smiled, nostalgia in his eyes. "Oh the Halloween parties. I wish I'd had the times you did."
Nora met them at the door. "Have a good time now, but not too good."
Victor pecked her on the cheek. "Any last words of wisdom?"
Nora's tongue probed one cheek. "Always read the fine print; and beware of cheap imitations."
"Ah, an obscure reference," Victor called. "An auspicious start to a fun weekend."

Chapter 2:
Friday Afternoon

For Victor, there was an ineffable quality to a convention that started during packing and got stronger as he got closer to the hotel. The first jolt of that feeling came as he tried to find a parking space and read the bumper stickers and custom plates. Where else would a car van with a plate reading DRGNLDY be parked next sedan with a sticker claiming that the owner's other vehicle is a TARDIS?
Victor could see that unique aura sinking into Mike as they walked into the lobby of the hotel. Victor had stayed here at times other than con weekend, but it had seemed almost like a shell or a ghost of what it was when the con happening. For one thing, the people inhabiting the lobby were either nonexistent or certainly nothing like those that were there now. The big men with bigger beards and all manner of hats. Large women in gowns and corsets, small women in even tighter corsets. Buttons everywhere and if someone wasn't wearing glasses it was ten to one they had contacts. Already there were fantasists with cloaks and staves, furries with ears and tails, steampunkers covered in brass and cyberpunkers with scouters and black tubes. There were even one or two otaku with their bright hair and almost unreally colored clothing. They were standing in groups or alone waiting for later arrivals or sitting on the chairs and couches that were spread out in the lobby and along the halls leading out towards the con rooms and guest rooms. Compared to them, Victor and Mike in their T-shirts and shorts looked positively mundane. Not for long, though.
Victor took a deep breath of fandom and took Mike to stand in line to check in. They were behind a guy in giant goggles and a red cape. "Cory Doctorow, I presume." Victor said.
"To the blogosphere!" The red-caped man called gamely.
Mike was still looking around with awe that he was attempting to disguise behind a veneer of nochalance. Victor said, "You'll be learning about true punning soon." He held up five fingers and counted down silently. When his thumb hit his palm, someone said, "I always celebrate Fox Guy day by wearing a tail. Why?"
"Every one minute, forty-seven seconds. The shortest time between puns that is safe. Otherwise a pungularity forms and we end up with pundark everywhere."
Mike looked askance at his father. "Pundark? You're making all of this up."
"Oh yeah?" Victor said. "One moment." He started counting down on his fingers again and at the end someone said, "Fear my awesome electrical power. It is useless to be a resistor."
Victor sighed, "Electrical puns. This is going to cause a chain reaction but-" he shouted back across the room, "Some people don't have the capacitor for that kind of pun!"
"Then they should be more current!"
"There's certainly the potential for difference!"
"Wire we arguing?"
"Because someone has to provide impedance of this horrible conversation!"
"Socket to me!"
As the last pun was thrown, the lights dimmed, almost going out. "Pundark!" Victor shouted.
When the lights flared back to their proper luminescence, Mike asked, "What was that?"
Victor replied, "That was a pungularity. It produced the pundark effect you just saw. You see, when too many puns are thrown all at once, they collapse the pun field into a pungularity. This produces the effect of pundark, which causes all the puns involved to cease to be funny. A lot of puns were lost to produce the minute and forty-seven second rule. Anyway, it's our turn to check in and hopefully there won't be too many more incidents like that."
After getting their key cards, picking up their badges and materials, they went up to their room to get settled. Victor sat down in the armchair in the corner and opened the program booklet. "Usually the really interesting stuff happens on Saturday, but I've rarely had an hour slot with nothing I wanted to see. Yup. Next slot has a discussion on the construction and proper use of doomsday weapons. That's my afternoon right there. You?"
Mike looked at his schedule grid. "There's a welcoming session in one of the ballrooms for new furs and a place for previous members to catch up with each other. I think I'll take Jamina down and see who's here."
"Not wasting any time, I see. It's a good thing I set things up so your badge wouldn't have your real name on it. Well, have fun. I actually think I'll skip Saliaven for the weekend. I'm feeling like this is going to be more of a fen sort of con for me." He stayed long enough to help Mike into the suit, then hurried to his panel while his son was still trying to find the right dress or skirt for the occasion.

Jamina floated down the hallway, luxuriating in the feeling of her multilayered skirts swishing about her legs as her large fluffy tail bounced. The dress she'd chosen had been intended for this use and had a hole in the rear that allowed her tail to bob freely behind her. She's brushed her black tresses and light ochre body fur until she was sure that she looked as good as possible for this first appearance. The voice modulator turned Mike's quiet chuckles into a light giggle as Jamina thought about how she'd wow everyone there. She'd thought about using the braced tail with elastic spine, but since she didn't know how much room there would be or whether she'd have to sit, she'd gone with the large one that hung all the way down. Besides, Mike didn't quite trust the padding on his butt to hide the necessary support for the tail, and he wanted Jamina to look as real as possible.
Despite knowing that she'd done everything possible to make herself presentable, Jamina still found herself checking in every mirror she passed, and the hotel had many. She never stopped, but she did slow down a couple of times when she noticed some of her raven-colored hair falling over her eyes and muzzle. She'd brush it back self-consiously and wonder if she should go back for a hairbar. Then the still-active core of Mike would smile inside the shy-eyed Jamina and keep going. His confidence wasn't entirely in character for the young vixen, but it was necessary if she was going to meet anyone.
Jamina's first reaction when she walked into the ballroom was the thought that perhaps she was overdressed. There were very few people suited and those who were weren't wearing clothes. Well, except for that dashing wolf near the snack table who was wearing a leather vest and a wide-brimmed hat. Yum!
The lustful reaction made Mike flush inside of Jamina, who felt pretty embarrassed herself. Still, the grey-furred, yellow-eyed dish seemed to be the most animate person there. Though Jamina's innocent green eyes were made to look at whoever looked back, the blue irises behind them kept glancing at the wolf even as Jamina went over to the welcome table.
The girl behind the table, wearing only a pair of ears for comfort's sake, gave Jamina a warm welcome and complimented her on her suit. "One of the best constructions I've seen at this con." She said.
Jamina inclined her head, brushing her black hair back before it could fall too far. "Thanks!" She said brightly. "I wish I could tell you who made it, but it's not mine originally and I've forgotten. My dad made some alterations, though. Victor Falkner?"
The girl smiled. "I didn't know Victor had a daughter. Tall? Tends to have odd equipment on his person at all times?"
Jamina laughed. "That's dad, alright."
The girl said, "He doesn't show up at our functions too often, but he's big on felines as I recall, and the Chronicle." She looked at Jamina's nametag. "You too? Well, it is a favorite in the fandom. I'm sure you'll be recognized by plenty of people."
Jamina turned as if to leave, but decided she had to ask. "Do you know who that wolf is?" She asked, pointing with a short black claw.
The girl leaned to the side to look. "Him? New as far as I know, or at least the fursona is. He didn't come over here, so perhaps it’s one of our regulars with a new aspect."
"Thanks." Jamina talked with a few of the other new members, and one or two regulars who were there to help welcome them, but she continued to be drawn towards the wolf, who was still talking animatedly to anyone who approached him near the food table. No one seemed to know who he was, though, and eventually Jamina decided she'd had enough. Though such presumption wasn't exactly in character, she reminded herself she was a Resonating Node, a Mage First Class in rank and no lupine with a hat was going to cow her.
She crossed the room over to where the wolf was drinking a soda through a long straw. Jamina picked one up for herself and said, "Hello."
The wolf, who was taller than she'd realized replied, "Hi." In a voice that seemed artificially deep. Like someone with a higher pitched voice who was trying to seem throaty. Considering his choice in suit, it seemed likely to Jamina that he was trying to go for the kind of voice his fursona would have.
Jamina tried to think of a way to continue when the wolf said, "I see from your badge that you're Jamina. From the crossed-staves on bronze sticker, would it be too presumptuous to guess your last name to be Karia'tur?"
Jamina leapt at the opening. "Not at all," she replied. "Your name, however, seems more of a mystery. Your badge is flipped the wrong way and so you have the advantage of me."
The wolf bowed. "If only I could keep such an advantage. But for such a lovely young lady, I could hardly be so rude as not to identify myself. I am Wortag. Big Mad Wortag."
Jamina stifled a laugh. This reference she knew. "Big...Mad...Wortag." She replied with exaggerated skepticism. "Is that what's sewn on your vest?"
"As a matter of fact," Wortag said, his voice showing the rakish grin that must lie under his suit. "It is." He pulled back one side of the vest to show 'BMW' on the side.
Jamina countered, "And how do I know you're not just a car lover?"
"Ah, a wit to match my own!" The wolf cried.
Jamina did laugh at that. "I see that we have similar tastes. Perhaps I'll be seeing more of you at the con."
The wolf bowed again, sweeping his hat off. "I can only hope so, and that I'll see more of you as well."
Jamina knew that no one else in the room was going to top that introduction, and she felt justified in leaving to let Mike see a panel or two before dinner. As for Saturday... Well, Jamina fully intended to seek Wortag out if she didn't run into him by lunch. This looked to be an interesting weekend for both her and Mike. She thought about Wortag's over-the-top behavior as she walked back to the room and giggled to herself. She didn't look once at the mirrors as she went.

Mike had spent the early morning before programming started setting his schedule up so that Jamina could go to the morning panels and lunch, and he could join the afternoon panels. Evening and the masquerade would be whatever he felt like, though he expected Jamina to go to the parties.
Jamina had decided on a long, green, single layer skirt with a blue midriff. Something more casual and easier to get around in. She saw and greeted a couple of the people she'd met the day before, but didn't see Wortag before the first panel. She'd picked them with the hope of seeing him there, and she wasn't disappointed when she arrived to find him already seated. She slid in next to him and he looked at her. "Pretty lady." He said in greeting. "Do I have a companion for the day?"
Jamina giggled and looked down at her program book. "Look at what I have circled for the morning and you can tell me."
Wortag brought the page up close to his muzzle and said, "Well, well. I do believe we'll be spending the morning together. How convenient."
They fell silent as the panel started, a discussion on the merits and problems with popular furry fiction. A little past the halfway point, the audience started getting involved and Wortag and Jamina began to compete on who could make the best relevant point. Wortag fell silent first, though Jamina suspected that was so that he could turn slightly and watch her. Mike flushed more than usual as Jamina caught him leaning over and admiring his figure as Jamina stood up to make a point.
They talked and laughed as they went to the next panel, dealing with construction methodology. Panel's members were more loquacious and audience participation was minimal. It was still interesting, and when they left, Wortag pronounced himself hungry enough to skip the next program item and take an hour for lunch. Jamina said, "I could eat like this, but I'd rather have my mouth closer to my food, if you get my drift."
Wortag leaned on a wall nonchalantly and said, "Sure. I wouldn't mind changing into something easier to eat in as well."
Jamina replied, "My room's right on the corridor. We don't even have to take the elevator."
Wortag's tone was impressed. "Nice. That must be handy when you're suited."
"It is." Jamina said. "My dad's told me about some of his more difficult elevator rides." She sniffed. "Not something I'd want to do my first con."
Wortag laughed. "My delicate little vixen. Well, I'd need to grab some clothes from my room first. Meet you there?"
Jamina nodded. "It's 364."
"364,"Wortag confirmed. "Be right there." Before Jamina could turn to leave, Wortag walked right up to her. "One of your ears is flopping over," he said as he reached out a paw to set it upright again. Mike felt even hotter in the suit again, but didn't reply as Wortag took his leave.
Wortag was faster than Jamina had expected, and was carrying a bundle when he knocked on the door scarcely a minute after Jamina had arrived and gotten out her own change of clothes. She opened the door and Wortag came in. "I hope you don't mind that I decided to come here first."
"Not at all," Jamina said. "Actually, I think it's better this way. I know I should have told you this earlier, but-" She pulled off her fursuit head and Mike said, "I'm really sorry, but I didn't know how to tell you. It just occurred to me that I ought to have been clearer."
Wortag had taken a step back when Mike had pulled off his head and now he made a grinding sound in the back of his throat. Mike was afraid the wolf would start shouting at him, or storm out. Instead, Wortag lifted his own head off. "Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit!" He said in a much higher tone. Brown hair cascaded down to Wortag's upper back as the girl shook her head to free it. "The nicest girl I meet in years and is she a lesbian? Of course not! Bi? I wish! Not even straight! I picked a bloody transvestite!" She laughed shortly, an ironic sound. "Well, I guess I shouldn't complain. Turnabout's a bitch, though."
Listening to her go on, Mike could see how this girl's voice had served her well in her male role. Though definitely female now, it was still deep for a girl, and a little nasal. Also, despite her anger, she seemed to have difficulty expressing emotion with her normal voice. Wortag's had carried a lot more inflection than hers did. "I guess I have less to be sorry about, huh?" He said.
The girl's head snapped up to glare at him, then dropped again. "I can hardly give you trouble considering what I'm doing, can I? Please tell me that you're at least gay."
Mike shook his head. "Nope, sorry. I just like the way it feels."
The girl rolled her eyes. "Just great. Well, I suppose I'd better be going." She started getting her hair back in and her head on.
Mike felt an odd impulse. "Why?"
The girl looked up, Wortag's muzzle now sticking out of her forehead. "Huh?"
"Why should we stop being friends now?" Mike elaborated. "I suppose if we were normal teenagers, this sort of embarrassment would be enough to stop a one-day friendship, but we're fans, dammit! This kind of weirdness is what we do. My invitation to lunch is still open." He laughed softly, "I'll even buy, since I'm the gentleman now."
The girl paused, thinking for several seconds before replying, "You're on."
Mike stuck out a delicate paw. "Mike."
The girl extended five long claws on a big hand. "Jane."
They shook hands, then Mike slipped his up to grasp Jane by the upper forearm. She did the same. "A bit of medievalry never hurt anyone."
Jane rolled her eyes again.
Mike said, "You know, you look a bit like Anne Widdecombe when you do that."
"I bet you tell all the girls that." She replied.
"Well, I guess I'd better get changed."
"I'll go back to my room," Jane replied quickly.
"You seemed fine when you were a bloke about to see a demure little vixen with her fur off."
Jane kicked him in the shin. "If you'd been what I thought you were, I wouldn't have seen anything I hadn't before."
"And if you'd been what I thought you were," Mike shot back, "neither would you."

Mike saw Jane before she saw him as he made his way to the restaurant. She'd changed into large boots and a pair of pants with a short skirt over it. A roomy top completed the outfit. Even with the tall boots, she was still a little shorter than Mike in his button-down short-sleeved shirt, shorts and sneakers.
"Still keeping the tail, I see." Jane said as Mike approached.
Mike shrugged one shoulder and grinned. "Why not? It's a nice tail."
Jane smiled back, looking him in the eye. "I'll take your word for it. I'm not going to be trapped into examining your butt." She reached up towards the top of his head, now having to stand on tiptoe to reach it. "One of your ears is flopping over again. Here I'll-” She snatched her hand back. "Sorry about that," she muttered.
Mike shook his head. "You saw a problem and you fixed it. No big deal."
Jane looked sharply at him, but only saw open friendliness and maybe a hint of playful interest. "You are unusual, even for second generation fen."
Mike laughed. "Seeing me with boobs and a figure wasn't enough? I could definitely say the same for you."
Jane smiled back. "It's an image I admit I think I'll eventually come to treasure, for all the embarrassment it brought."
Mike glanced at the restaurant entrance. "I think I'd like to continue this conversation with food."
Jane grinned, a little of the wolf showing in her expression. "Don't think just because I'm the one with boobs now that I'll eat any less than I would otherwise. You're going to regret offering to pay."
Mike gestured for her to precede him. "I never regret gallantry."
They continued to banter as they entered, ordered and waited for their food. Jane was still as good as her word, matching Mike pound for pound in meat consumption, and even beating him by finishing her dessert. "How old are you, anyway?" She said over a sundae.
"Fifteen. You?" Mike replied.
"Sixteen. Not a bad difference. Ah, if only you were female."
"We seem to be having plenty of fun." Mike said. "I mean, what's a nice girl like you doing looking for more than that?"
Jane's reticence had dissolved during their meal and she shot back, "What's a nice boy like you doing in a floofy skirt and chatting up big wolves? Admit it; you were flirting like crazy with me."
Mike winked broadly. "Care to continue? We're a hell of a match, admit it."
Jane licked her spoon thoughtfully. "You tempt me, dear boy. Still, I think since I'm still trying to keep my rep as a lesbo and since I've only known you for less than a day, and as a bloke for less than an hour that we'd better keep it platonic."
Mike feigned excitement. "Oooh! Oooh! I want to be Socrates! Then I get to ask annoying rhetorical questions."
Jane provided an over-the-top sigh. "I think in this relationship that we're both Socrates. Since you seem so interested in continuing, how about we do a masquerade entry? I'd hate to spend the rest of the weekend without seeing you in a skirt at least once more."
Mike said, "Do you think we could enter this late?"
Jane shrugged. "They won't like it, but I think we could squeeze in. I take in then that you aren't against the idea?"
"It's short notice, we haven't prepared anything and I'm going to be going onstage in front of a large audience wearing fake boobs and a dress." He paused, then grinned. "Nope. I've got nothing against it at all!"
Jane crowed, "That's the spirit! What's the point in dignity if you can't throw it away for something fun? Let's motor on up and fill out the sheet, then I guess we'll have to take some time to figure out what we're going to do." It was her turn to wink broadly. "And if you can stay a gentleman long enough, I might just feel comfortable letting you help me into my suit."
Mike got up and put his hand on the back of her chair. "I think I'll start now." He bent over and whispered into her ear, "And I hope you help me as well."

The sign-up person had given them the eye when they asked to join, but entries had been sparse that year so she let them in with a minimum of trouble. They sat in the corridor for a few minutes throwing ideas back and forth before deciding on a simple skit based on the Chronotis Chronicles. Jane had a Honeck-forged staff and told Mike he could borrow it to play Jamina. "We're going to need to record the dialogue in advance. Even if your modulator can handle the output for a ballroom, I certainly couldn't do Wortag that loud without suffering an injury."
"I don't know if I can get it out of the head. I might-"
"Don't worry about it." Jane said, in a passable imitation of Jamina. "I can both parts. I assume you have the equipment."
Mike considered. "I'm not sure..."
Jane laughed. "Come on! Old Victor isn't that much of a common face, but everyone knows that even if you stripped him bare naked and put him on a desert island, he'd somehow produce a cellular phone and a pocket computer from somewhere on his person. Check your luggage and then tell me you don't have a laptop with a CD burner, microphone and blank disc." She stood and grabbed his arm, pulling him up. "Let's go. The sooner we do this, the more panels we can make before we have to go to the set-up meeting and have a quick rehearsal. I am not letting this give Wortag a bad rep and I'd never ever let Jamina's first performance get less than a standing ovation." Her eyes sparkled as they moved swiftly down the hall and Mike thought about how this was nowhere near what he'd expected for his first con. Dad was right; conventions were awesome.

"Jamina!"
"Wortag!"
The fox and the wolf ran to each other, the first lifted off her feet by the joyful embrace of the second. The fox's tail bobbed and swayed as she ran and was picked up, seemingly as real as any other part of her. When she was put down, her skirts ruffling and her staff clicking as it hit the ground before her Jamina said, "I was so afraid you'd be lost in the war."
Wortag drew himself up. "I am a soldier of the Emerald Empire." He sagged a little. "I was a little distracted myself when that fireball hit you."
Jamina laughed melodically. "I am a Mage First Class. I was in no danger."
"Still, I worried."
"So did I."
They stood, looking at each other. Then Wortag looked back behind him. "They'll be wondering where we are in the Tower."
Jamina nodded. "We both have to report." She brushed up against him. "But I'll make sure to ask that a certain valiant wolf be assigned to guard my quarters."
Wortag saluted lazily. "I am ever at your service, my lady."
The lights dimmed and the audience applauded as Jamina and Wortag left the stage and the next entry was announced. They got to watch the rest of the masquerade before being herded out into the hallway to pose for photos. After a second or two of posing separately, Wortag pulled Jamina against him and put his arm around her hip. She reciprocated quickly and soon they were competing to see who could get the other into the most familiar position. The photographers loved it and they were at it so long that they barely managed to make it in to catch the tail-end of the entertainment while the judges deliberated.
Mike had been surprised when Jane told him Wortag already had a workmanship award. He hadn't figured she'd made him. Mike was of course barred since Jamina was bought. They managed to get a minor award, though not best in division, but Jamina still bounced up and down and embraced Wortag when they were called up. To win anything first year out and not even intending to enter was plenty for her.
They met Victor when they went back to Mike's room to rest for a few minutes. "I see you've already made a very affectionate friend." Victor observed.
Mike grinned as he pulled off his head and sat down on the bed, not caring that he hadn’t fixed his skirts first. "Dad, this is Jane."
"Go and mess up my cover, why don't you?" Jane said as she took off her own head. Despite her words, she was smiling as well.
Victor looked back and forth between the two. "Well, well. This is a surprise. Have fun, you two, but not too much, as your mother might say."
Mike snorted. "Jane's a lesbian, dad."
Victor gave them a knowing look. "Not in public, it seems."
Mike got up and punched his father in the arm. "Play nice. At least for the first few minutes."
Jane took a seat and leaned back. "I see it runs in the family."
"And we're not even blood relations," Victor quipped.
"Dad married by mom four years ago."
Jane nodded approvingly at Victor. "You made him a pretty vixen in only four years. That's fast work. I approve."
Mike pouted at Jane. "How do you know I wasn't already?"
Jane sniffed. "I can smell it on you."
Victor tried not to smile, failing completely. He was reminded far too much of his own wife. As he watched the two teenagers talking, he could tell two things. One was that they had both hooked the other. The second was that neither knew it yet. "Come on," he said, interrupting their discourse. "Let's go get an egg cream. After that, we'll have to see."
Mike managed to convince them to let him take a minute to switch to her unspined tail, which would definitely make it easier on both her and the other people at the parties. Victor was about to help Mike maneuver when Jane took over, unzipping the bodysuit and giving him a hand with the switch. It seemed so natural a thing that Victor upgraded his assessment. They were hooked completely.
Victor watched them for awhile as they went from party to party, but though the two talked and laughed together as if they'd known one another for years, they also seemed to respect a mutual boundary. After half an hour, Victor decided that it was pointless watching them and left the two to their own devices as he went to find his own crowd. Their familiarity at the photo shoot had alarmed him at first, but not anymore. Some of that had been genuine, but plenty had been for the benefit of their audience. Even now, if someone asked for a picture of them together, they gave that person an image they'd remember.
Victor had been afraid that his assessment had been wrong and that he'd find Jamina and Wortag curled up in bed together or not even there when he arrived back at the room. Instead, he found Mike already asleep, Jamina neatly put away in her case. Victor allowed himself to feel both relieved and proud that his son had behaved and that he himself had been right about everything. Nora was a kind and caring woman, but she'd have disemboweled him if he'd had to tell her that her son had been sleeping with anyone, even someone like Jane. He knew he wouldn't see the last of that girl, though. Even if he had to lead Mike to it, he'd make sure that the boy kept in touch with her.

Chapter 4:
Sunday

Mike got up and dressed in a new T-shirt but the same shorts while his dad was still asleep. It was too early for programming to begin, but Mike wanted to go down to the lobby and hang out anyway. He'd bring the newest Chronicle book with him, bought at the dealer's room on Friday and autographed despite the fact that the seller swore up and down that she'd never even seen the author go by. He had barely gotten past the first section before a familiar pair of boots appeared below the rim of the book. "I had hoped I'd see you before things got going again." He said, putting the Chronicle down.
Jane sat on the armchair next to him. "I figured I'd find you here. You're just the kind of guy who'd lie in wait trying to catch an unsuspecting girl."
It was starting early. "I believe you caught me, though." Mike replied.
Jane said, "This time."
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes before Mike said. "I see you decided not to wear yours either."
Jane stretched out. "Sundays are for relaxing."
"When did you build Wortag? You told me he was already awarded for workmanship."
Jane looked out the window and back at Mike. "About two years ago. He's had to have been let out once or twice. I turned out taller than I thought I'd be." She smiled. "So did he."
"You must have been going to cons for a long time." Mike said, interested.
"As long as I can remember and years before that, too. I'm a fen brat, same as you. I was born to it, though. My mom used to read me Dianna Wynne Jones when I went to bed. Your mom wasn't a fan?"
Mike shook his head. "Still isn't, really. She likes dad, and I think she likes it when he wears his fursuits, but she's not really into it."
Jane said, "Both my parents are. Neither are furries, though mom began to get interested after I did. She may yet ask me to make her one. I don't know."
They sat in silence again, and then Jane stood up. "Well, I've got panels to go to."
Mike rose as well. "I'll go with."
Jane smiled mischievously. "You don't even know what they are. Maybe I'm going to some girly nonsense."
Mike looked her in the eye. "I somehow doubt you'd ever want to do anything labeled 'girly nonsense.' And even if you did, you can count me in anyway. My dad used to follow Tammy Pierce, and I mean that in a literal sense. I've read everything she's written so far, and most of those books were autographed."
Jane rolled her eyes. "You win. Come on, I was going to see the unholy row on whether we should develop Luna or Mars first."
"How do you know it's going to be an unholy row?"
Jane gave him a superior look. "I've been going to cons for years. It's always a catfight when that subject comes up."
Mike pretended to clench his teeth. "Must...not...make...catfight...joke."
"Let's go, before we're late." Jane retorted, grabbing Mike's arm and pulling.

The con was winding down when Mike and Jane wandered back into the lobby. Victor was already down with all the luggage and was reading a book. "Ah, I figured you two would be through eventually. I want to get home before your mother starts to worry that we've been captured by Cardassians, not that she'd think of it that way."
Mike turned to Jane. "See you next year, I guess."
Jane pulled a piece of paper out of her bag. "Here's my FurAffinity page. I assume you have on as well?"
Mike hurriedly wrote down his own. "Naturally. I'm more active elsewhere, but we can start there."
Jane took the sheet and chucked Mike in the arm. "There's lookin' at ya, toots. I'd better go find my own clan. I know where to find dad, at least. He never passes up a gripe session." She left, turning to wave, walking backwards as she rounded a corner. Mike waved back.

Nora was in the living room watching television when Victor and Mike walked in. Victor dropped his bags to embrace his wife and Mike dropped his because his father had and he could always move the luggage later. Nora looked at both of them for a moment. "Well, you two don't look like anything went wrong."
Victor laughed. "Can't you just be like normal spouses and ask how the weekend went?"
"Can't you be like normal husbands and go to conventions about lawnmowers or power plants instead of dressing up as a cat the entire time?"
Victor replied haughtily, "I didn't wear Saliaven at all. I was too busy discussing business."
Nora snorted. "Business like how many Star Destroyers it would take to blow up a Borg Cube. I know how it works. And you may have not dressed up," she said, changing gears quickly and observing Mike's embarrassed grin. "But he did."
"I did indeed," Mike said, hugging his mother. "But I had a lot of fun."
Nora held him at arms' length. "Not too much fun, I hope."
"There was a rather strapping young wolf..." Mike said, teasing.
"And?" Nora replied, all motherly concern.
"He turned out to be a lesbian trying to find a nice girl. We managed not to let that cause too much friction, though."
Nora sighed. "My son's turned strange."
Mike said, "I've always been strange. If we'd been normal people, things would have gone a lot worse. As it was, I think I've made a really good friend."
Nora said, "I'll take that much as a mom ought to and be happy. I just won't think about the circumstances."
"She was quite handsome."
Nora sighed. "And I'm sure you were the prettiest thing at the con."
"I don't like to brag."
Victor added. "And he didn't get involved in any of those pundark gangs. Isn't it better to have a son who wears dresses well than one whose dresses wear well?"
"That was really bad!" Mike said.
Victor looked around. "It really was. Wow. The lights dimmed and Cory Doctorow was nowhere near the dimmer switch."
Mike picked up one of the bags. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have clothes to put away and an FA user to look up. Maybe I'll lie down for awhile too. Cons are tiring."