Expectations
by Mog Moogle

	The otter brushed her bangs back as they draped into her field of view. The shoulder length headfur, styled in gentle flowing waves complimented the natural sheen of the river otter's pelt. Her pink sweater bagged a bit and concealed some of her lithe frame, but her skirt around her waist was carefully selected to accent the curves in her hips. Since she started university the previous year, she'd  taken a fresh start mentality and focused on beautification in a way she never had in high school.
	The bookshelves of the university library surrounded her as her finger ran down the double column pages much swifter than an average reader. The book itself was a compilation of physics theories that most of the grad students wouldn't comprehend. Her near photographic memory absorbed every equation and chart intermingled in the print.
	She sat at one of the antique long tables in the middle of the library in one of the many antique chairs that surrounded it. It was where she spent ever school day after lunch, reading and studying above her grade level to prepare for the more difficult classes to come. It was quiet, so she could immerse herself and shut the rest of the distractions in other parts of the campus off.
	Either because of her immersion in study or her complete lack of interest in her surroundings, she didn't acknowledge the wolf in the letterman's jacket as he approached the table and stood beside her. He was taller than she was, gray fur with woodland browns and rust accenting the ends in places. His athletic earned letter stitched prominently on the front of the university colored jacket with achievement pins for football pinned to it as well as the Greek letters of his fraternity. He cleared his throat but the otter didn't even flinch.
	“Excuse me,” he said in a polite tone, “my name is Clayton. Do you mind if I sit here?”
	“No,” she replied without looking up.
	“I, uh, noticed you're in here a lot,” he said as he pulled the out the chair from the table. The legs squealed audibly against the hardwood floor. “We've never met. Mind if I ask your name?”
	The otter paused from her reading briefly to glance up at him over the top of her reading glasses. “Freya,” she answered before looking back at her book.
	“Freya? Like the Viking lady?”
	“Freyja. Norse goddess of love, beauty, fertility, et al. Commonly, though I believe mistakenly, associated with Frigg,” Freya paused and looked at him again. “And, no. Not like a figure of myth. Just Freya.”
	“Ah, well … I remembered the name from my world history class.” Clayton chuckled nervously then composed himself. “Listen, I was just wondering if you might want to, you know, go out for some coffee, or something?”
	“I wouldn't have the time,” she replied and looked back at her book once more, “and I abhor coffee.” 
	“Well, it doesn't have to be coffee, and it doesn't have to be now. We can do it whenever. I'd just like to get to know you a bit.”
	Freya stopped reading and closed the cover of the book. She looked at him and glanced up and down from his head to his torso, then back at his face. She shook her head and sighed, “You're asking me out on a date?”
	“Well, yeah.” He smiled at her.
	“You don't want to date me,” she said as she slipped the book into a shoulder bag and stood up. “I'm not your type.”
	“Wait, hold on a second-” Clayton said as she walked right past him, around the table and didn't look back. He sighed to himself and shook his head. “Cold as ice. I like a challenge.”

	Freya was closing the flap on her shoulder bag as the elderly badger at the head of the class dismissed them for the day. She couldn't wait to get out of the basic science classes so she could move on to something more in line with her theoretical physics major. Last class for the day. On to better things, like homework, study and a video call with an old friend.
	She was nearly the last out of the classroom after her customary, “Thank you” to her professor. She was turning to go down the hall when she heard her name called out. Looking in that direction, she saw Clayton leaning against the wall opposite the classroom. She rolled her eyes and sighed.
	“Hey, I saw you go in as I was getting out of my economics class. I just wanted to apologize for coming on strong if you felt that way.” He extended his paw to her and held it outstretched. She looked down at it and then back up at his face. “I promise it's clean.”
	“Don't worry about it,” she said as she turned away from him.
	“Now, don't be like that,” Clayton said as he stepped in front of her and blocked her path. “I was being serious when I asked you out.”
	“I told you that-”
	“You're not my type?” he interrupted. “What if I told you I'm not into the girls that like my type? What if I told you that I like smart and mature women?”
	“I'd tell you that I'm almost completely certain that I'm not your type.” Freya pushed past him and kept walking.
	“Jeeze …” he muttered under his breath. “Zero for two today. Ah well, she can't get rid of me that easily. There's always tomorrow.” He chuckled and turned the opposite direction and walked toward the exit closest to his Frat house.

	The Autumn sun sank beneath the trees outside Freya's dorm room window. She looked at her friend's list on the left side of her messenger program on her laptop as she sat at the small desk in the corner and saw that the green icon beside, “Dougie” was present. Double clicking on it, she hit the call button and the screen and waited for a response.
	A video window went to full screen and the black faded into various colors of a spartan room in a place far away from her cozy campus housing. In the middle of the screen a mole with big glasses, hazel eyes and a skin tight tan shirt was settling in. He picked up a headset with microphone on it and gave the camera a playful wave.
	“Hi, Dougie,” she greeted with a happy expression.
	“Good morning, Freya. I, and all of Kandahar send best regards.”
	“Mmm.” She giggled and looked over what she could see of him in his grainy built-in laptop camera. “How are you doing? Staying safe?”
	“As safe as can be. Oh! I have something to show you,” he said before reaching down below him and picking up an ACU top. He showed the right sleeve to the camera. It had a patch on the velcro pad that looked like an arrowhead with a dagger in the middle with lighting bolts intersecting it. “I told you I was TDA to First Group? I got my combat patch yesterday. Not technically regulation, since I've already been deployed, but they said as long as I was with them, I could wear it.”
	Freya giggled and nodded her head. She watched as he put the uniform blouse down and he looked at the camera again. She nodded and sighed. “Do you think you'll be there long?”
	“I'm not sure. We're going to hang around for awhile even with the big withdraw. The lieutenant even knew my dad. He said I should apply for SF school when I get back to the states.”
	“I see …” She bit her bottom lip and looked at his proud expression. “Still thinking about going career?”
	“Yeah,” he answered solemnly. “I never thought I'd make it this far when I was in basic. Now that I've made E-5 in just over three years, it feels like I should follow in dad's footsteps.”
	“You've always been good at anything you put your mind to. Even making an otter girlfriend happy.”
	“I know, I miss you too. How's university life treating you?”
	“Classes are still boring. Have to get them over with to move on to the more interesting ones. Even testing out of all the pre-reqs didn't mean I could get out of 'be-bored-by-elementry-studies 101.'”
	“Yeah, I know what you mean. A lot of training after basic was mundane class work,” he said with a chuckle. Freya bit her bottom lip again and shied her eyes away. She looked back up when she heard a whistle. “Something's on your mind. I can see it, even through the terrible lag on this god awful wireless.”
	“Douglass, I was in the library today, and a guy asked me out.”
	“That's great! I told you I wasn't the only one that thought you were pretty.”
	“No, but … you don't understand. He's a typical guy. I don't think he's going to be special like you.”
	“Don't be silly.” Douglass chuckled. “Just be up front with him. Be yourself and he'll either like you for being you, or he won't and it'll his loss.”
	“But, don't you think that, maybe we have a future?”
	“If the stars align right, then yes. But you're a young woman, Freya. I'm here for another seventeen months, at least. And we agreed during my first deployment that you wouldn't like being an Army wife. Enjoy your college life a bit. You can't keep turning down every guy that's interested because you're afraid they won't like you.”
	“It's a little different than other girls.”
	“No it isn't.” Douglass' expression firmed up and he spoke in the most serious tone he could muster. “If he's asking you out, something about you is appealing to him. Just like the last two you turned down. They saw something in you that you seem to miss. And, in all honesty, you're as beautiful in your heart and soul as you are on the outside. Men will either accept that, or like I said, it's their loss.”
	“I know.” She looked at the small camera lens on the top of her screen, “I know, Dougie. I'm just afraid that normal relationships will be out of my grasp … at least until you come home or after I, well, feel more normal myself.”
	“The best thing I took away from our friendship and relationship was that normal isn't what others tell us it should be. Normal is what we do for ourselves.” Douglass chuckled and shrugged, “The two nerdiest honor students in high school fumbling through the butterflies in our stomachs learning that there's life outside of school, study and video games felt pretty normal to me.” Douglass paused as he saw the otter smile at him. “I have to get ready to start the day. Take care of yourself, Freya.”
	“You too, Dougie.” Freya's expression slowly shifted from a smile to a frown as the image went dark and the notification that the call ended popped up on the screen. How could anyone ever like her the way Douglass did? Was it really worth trying, or was it an exercise in futility?

	At the end of her day, she finally settled down into a restless sleep after turning what Douglass had told her over and over again in her head. She cracked open her eyes to see the sun starting to rise through her window. Hastily forcing herself up in her bed she looked toward the alarm clock on the small table at the foot and cursed herself for sleeping through it. It was the first time she'd be late to class since she was in grade school.
	Her morning classes dragged. The lessons were boring as usual and combined with the lack of sleep she nearly dozed off on several occasions. It finally crept toward noon and she took her lunch in the student cafeteria as usual. At least they served fish fillets on Wednesdays, a small comfort before she'd head to the library to read about things she wouldn't get in her course books for another two years or more.
	She had just settled in to her usual spot at her usual table after picking a book that looked as if it would satisfy her beyond what she was doing in her courses when she saw the same wolf from yesterday walking up to her. She sighed and rubbed her eyes behind her reading glasses.
	“Hey there, Freya. Would you mind if I sat here?” Clayton asked as he pulled out the same chair beside her as the previous day.
	“Wolf on the prowl again today, I see.”
	“Yeah, I suppose. Never looked at asking someone out as sport, really.” He smiled and pulled a single rose from behind his back he'd been concealing and extended it toward her.
	“And a romantic, at that,” Freya said as she took the rose and sniffed at the petals. She sighed again and looked over at him. “I was being serious when I told you that I'm not your type.”
	“And I was being serious when I told you that what you think is my type, isn't.”
	“I'm not like other girls. I really doubt that I'm what you're looking for.” She looked away from him.
	“Well, I'll tell you what. I know you said you're not into coffee, but you know the little place just off the corner of athletic building? They have all sorts of stuff; smoothies, tea infusers, pastries-”
	“Thirty minutes,” Freya said bluntly.
	“Thirty minutes?”
	“You can have thirty minutes to talk about what you're looking for, what you want, and what you think I am.” She paused as she looked back up at Clayton. “Then, I will tell you about me.”
	“Thirty minutes …” Clayton stood up and offered his paw. “Deal.”
	Freya reluctantly took his paw and he helped her to her feet. Clayton was polite enough to not to attempt holding it while she picked her shoulder bag from the floor or offer it again once they started walking. Freya would listen as Clayton attempted some small talk but she didn't engage him in any conversation as they approached the front door of the coffee shop underneath the faux rustic fascia of the relatively modern building. Clayton opened the door for her and she stepped inside.
	Before she was two steps in, the chubby lion behind the counter greeted her with an enthusiastic, “Hi, miss Freya!” His accent was a thick cross between Middle East and Mediterranean. “Don't see you here in the afternoon unless it's Saturday.” She smiled as she walked up to the counter with Clayton in tow. “Who's your friend?”
	“Hey there, Salim.” she said with a smile, then it faded as she turned toward the wolf behind her. “This is Clayton. He wanted to take me out for coffee.”
	“Ah, yes. I've seen him in here before. He sips latte while reading the poetry books on the little lounge couch over there.”
	“Poetry, huh?” Freya turned back to Salim in time to see him putting a cup and a small kettle on a tray. “Maybe he might be worth getting to know a little better?”
	“He better watch out if he's not.” Salim chuckled. “He's not so tough looking. I'll bet you could beat him up.” Clayton tried his best not to glare at the jibe, but he couldn't help but wonder if his quip was more than half serious. “And you, Clayton, yes? What can I make for you?”
	“I'll just have your dark roast. Not feeling the sweet today.” He smiled and looked down at Freya, “At least, not just yet.”
	Freya took the tray and walked past Clayton with a, “I'll be at the table in the corner by the painting.”
	She settled in and looked up toward the lion and the wolf as Clayton paid for his coffee. She overheard Salim tell Clayton that he didn't have to pay for her tea since she never pays in his shop. She watched as they talked a bit, and Clayton took off his jacket with a slightly confused expression and handed it to Salim. The lion was obviously trying to give him the best chance of succeeding, being aware of Freya's feelings about sports. She smiled at the lion's efforts and looked up at the painting hanging on the wall beside her.
	Clayton approached the table and cleared his throat, but Freya didn't look away from the image on the frameless stretched canvas. “That's, uh, a nice painting,” Clayton said as he sat down opposite of her.
	“It's my favorite.”
	“I can't quite tell what it is.”
	“It's a reflection in an iris,” Freya replied. “I probably looked at it for a year before I saw it. See how everything is so dim? It's someone standing in front of my favorite coffee shop back home in the middle of the street looking up the road and you're looking so closely into their eyes you can see what they see.”
	“Oh.” He shifted in the chair a bit and scrutinized the rough brush strokes. “Okay, I can see that. Salim said you gave it to him to hang in the shop.”
	“When I left home and started coming here, I realized that it was one of the things I missed most.” Freya smiled before she came out of her nostalgic gaze and looked at Clayton. “They let me buy it from them. I was so happy when they did. I couldn't help but put it where it should be, where others can enjoy it and contemplate its meaning.”
	“You like art then, huh?”
	“No,” Freya said and giggled a bit. “I like this painting.”
	“So, what do you like in the arts? Poetry?”
	“Nnm,” she mumbled disapprovingly, “questions about me come later. Tell me why you think I'm your type.”
	“Well -” Clayton took a sip of his too hot coffee, a mistake he realized as soon as it burned his tongue. “- ah, well. You'll have to forgive me, this is the first time I've really ever been asked to do something like this,” he casually tried to say despite the uncomfortable burning in his mouth. “I suppose I'll start at the beginning.
	“I saw you in the library last week when I went in to research nineteenth century poets for my American Lit midterm. You're very pretty with your headfur and your skirts.”
	“So you think I'm pretty, huh?” Freya smiled a bit as she fought off some blush. “You were drawn to my looks?”
	“Well, at first, yeah. Tall, trim and I've always been a sucker for skirts,” Clayton shrugged, “but then I noticed you in there every day. You're always reading or studying. You're either brilliant or you're very driven and goal-orientated.” He paused and smiled. “Or both, if I'm lucky.”	
	Freya smiled a bit and shook her head, sipped her tea then looked up at him again with, “Go on.”
	“I play on the football team, as I'm sure you guessed. All of my teammates girlfriends are … kind of bubbly. I want to find something that is meaningful in a woman. I don't want to feel like I'm dating an older version of a high school girl.”
	“And you think because I'm studious, I'm not bubbly and giggly like they are?”
	“Well, yeah. I mean, you at least have drive enough to get the most out of your time here, education wise. I'm probably no where near as smart as you, just from glances at the book you've been reading, but I'm not a slouch. I don't want to just play football and get wasted every Friday night.”
	“You've been at university a few years?”
	“A Junior, yeah. I'll be graduating the end of next fall.” Clayton smiled. “A semester early, if I keep on top of things.”
	“What's your major?”
	“Business. My dad owns a little grass roots hardware store back home. One of the places you can still buy nails and screws by the pound, you know? I figured he wanted me to do the same. Take it over when he's ready to retire.”
	“Is that what you want?”
	“I've worked in that store since I was ten,” Clayton said proudly. “I knew how to swing a hammer before I learned to ride a bike.”
	“But is it what you want?”
	Clayton paused as he looked at her curiously. Then he looked up at the painting and back at her. He brought his left paw up and rubbed under his chin. “I've … never really thought about it. I mean, I always assumed I'd take over after the old man.” Clayton raised his eyebrows then shook his head. “I'm not sure what I want.”
	“What would you want in a relationship?”
	“I … uh … well, I want someone who's grounded and not flighty.” Clayton smiled nervously then sighed. “I suppose I want to feel like I'm not a fashion accessory. I dated this girl in high school who I found out wanted to go out with me just because I was a football star. It was a real eye opener, you know?”
	“You think the bookish type would see you as less of a conquest and more of a meaningful individual.” Freya's comment was much more statement than query. “I'm going to be honest with you Clayton. I don't feel like a relationship between us would work.”
	“May I ask why you feel that way? Is it because I play football?”
	Freya laughed out loud then quickly covered her mouth with her paw to contain the noise. She calmed down and looked up at the wolf and shook her head. She couldn't deny that he was handsome. Tall, masculine, personality a bit boyish perhaps but his golden eyes and the rust tinge on the accents of his fur didn't hurt anything. She looked down at the table and sighed. “I'm not like other women.”
	“Yeah, that's what I like.”
	“No,” Freya looked up at him and shook her head, “you don't understand. You remember when you were asking about my name and what it meant?”
	“Well, yeah. I really like it.”
	Freya shook her head. “No, see … Freya is pretty much the feminine of Geoffrey.”
	Clayton looked at her with a cocked eyebrow and then shook his head. “So what? I'm sure Clayton has a feminine counterpart, too.”
	“Geoffrey is what my parents named me.”
	“That's … a little odd. I can see why you changed it.”
	“No, you're still not getting it. Geoffrey was my name until I figured out that I was actually Freya.” She looked down at the table again and sighed. “I was born male.”
	Clayton blinked then sat his coffee down and looked her over. “That's … uh … I mean, did you have surgery or something?”
	“No,” Freya replied as she looked back up at him. “My mother is a doctor. She's been very understanding of me. When I was younger, she asked me if I wanted to stay a boy or be a girl. I told her …” she looked up at the painting again in a long moment of silence, then finally managed, “I told her I was Freya, and I wanted to be Freya.”
	“Wait, so you mean your body is a man's?”
	“No, I couldn't say that it is, anymore. My mother did what she could for me in the safest way possible. The waiting list for the actual surgery is long though, and I've only been in the process for a year. There's a chance I might not get the surgery until I'm a Junior or a Senior.”
	Clayton's eyes hadn't blinked since she she first told him and he only realized it when they started to get irritated. He swallowed hard and stood up from the table and looked down at the otter across from him.
	“I … excuse me.” Clayton turned and walked toward the door.
	When he passed the counter he didn't even hear Salim call out that he'd left his jacket. Freya sighed and picked up her tray. She sat it down on the counter in front of Salim.
	“Are you okay, miss Freya?”
	“I'm fine, Salim. Thank you for the tea.”
	She turned and walked out of the coffee shop and back toward the library. It wasn't unexpected, but a little bit of loneliness tugged at her chest. Normal isn't what others tell us it should be. Normal is what we do for ourselves. The wisdom of Douglass' words seemed a little hollow at the moment.

	Nearly a week had gone by without Freya being approached by anyone else in the way Clayton had. She had spoken to Douglass a few more times and his reassurances helped her come to terms before the school week had started. It was Tuesday, and the cafeteria’s clam chowder was passable, so it wasn't a terrible day as she sat down in her chair at her table and put the book in front of her she'd just checked out. She opened the cover and turned past the contents to the first page when she heard a familiar voice.
	“Do you mind if I sit here?”
	“No,” she replied as she stayed focused on the text.
	“Look, I wanted to apologize,” Clayton said as he sat down beside her.
	“You don't have anything to apologize for,” Freya told him.
	“No, I do. I shouldn't have walked out like that last week.”
	“I understand,” Freya said as she looked over at him. “Really, it's okay.” Something was different about him. He was wearing a tan leather jacket with a buttoned collard shirt underneath instead of his letterman's jacket and t-shirt. His headfur was combed neatly and there was a full bouquet of a dozen roses in his paw. Freya's expression turned from stoic to surprise as he offered it to her.
	“I'm sorry,” Clayton said softly as she took the bouquet. “I can't understand what it's like to not be who you were born. I … thought about it a lot. You're really a woman though, aren't you?” Clayton extended his paw and touched her chest above her breasts. “I mean, in here?”
	“I … was born Freya. I've always been Freya. I knew I was different when I was very young. I used to sneak into my parents' bedroom and put on my mom's makeup, try on her dresses …”
	“Have you ever … dated a man?”
	“I have … he's in Afghanistan right now, pursuing his dream of following in his father's footsteps. We met in high school, when I still had to pretend I was Geoffrey so that the other kids wouldn't pick on me. He found out, and he understood well enough that we started dating.” She paused to inhale the scent of the rose petals. “He could be very romantic, in his own cute and nerdy way.”
	“He sounds like a good guy. Are you two still together?”
	“No. We decided with him focusing on the military and me focusing on getting a doctorate, it wouldn't be the greatest fit. At least, in the short term.”
	“It's a tough act to follow,” Clayton said with a smile. “I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me.”
	“I didn't think you'd be interested in me after last Wednesday.”
	“Yeah, well … I can't say that my mind is behind me one hundred percent, but I think you were being honest with me when you told me that you're Freya, not Geoffrey.” Clayton took her paw in his. “When you asked me if what I was doing here in school was what I wanted, it got me thinking a lot. I mean, that whole day got me thinking a lot.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “The truth is, I don't know what I want for certain, except that I want to get to know this exceptional woman beside me a lot better.”
	Freya felt her ears heat and her cheeks blush. “Well, I still can't say for certain I'm your type,” she gave Clayton's paw a small squeeze, “but I couldn't say no to that.” 

	It was almost 7:30 and Freya was putting the finishing touches on her makeup. Not too much; just some mild eyeliner and a soft rose lipstick. She straightened her knee length one-piece red dress as she stood up and grabbed her small black vinyl handbag. She always thought it matched the dress really well. Before she left her dorm room, she stopped in front of the mirror on the back of the door to give herself a final once-over. The dress accented her womanly curves well but didn't reveal anything that wasn't distinctly feminine.
	She giggled to herself as she remembered the first time she had put on her red dress for a man. Freya smiled and sighed as she wondered if she could truly experience what she had with Douglass again. With a confident nod, she concluded that there was only one sure way to find out.
	Clayton was standing outside of her dormitory as she walked outside into the crisp fall night air. He smiled as she walked down the three set stairs to the walkway on the well kept campus grounds. His headfur was still neatly groomed and his collard shirt was the same, but he'd swapped out his jeans for a pair of dress slacks and added a tie. He walked to her to meet her as he took his leather jacket off and offered it to her.
	“You look lovely,” he said as he put the jacket over her shoulders.
	“Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself.”
	Clayton chuckled as he offered his arm and she looped her paw underneath it. They walked the path toward one of the student parking areas. He escorted her to a modest import two door car and opened the door for her. After closing the door, he went around and to the driver's side and keyed the ignition as Freya was getting settled.
	“I'm glad you have tail friendly seats,” Freya commented as she fastened her restraint.
	“Well, some of my buddies don't,” Clayton said as he put the car in reverse and backed out. “Nothing is worse than riding with your tail tucked up underneath you. One of the first things I did when I got this car is put in comfortable seats.”
	Freya giggled and padded her dress where the seat belt had wrinkled the material. “Where are we going?”
	“No where too fancy. I like to be able to read the menu when I go out to eat.” Clayton smirked as he glanced over at her. “I hope I'm not stereotyping, but do you like seafood?”
	“On occasion,” Freya joked. “Please tell me they have raw oysters.”
	“Blegh! Raw food is just something I can't do.”
	“Oh? Forgive me for stereotyping, but that seems odd for a wolf.”
	“Yeah … I found out recently that things aren't always as the seem.” He turned out of the lot onto the roadway and drove toward the historic district not far off the campus. “Sometimes, that's a good thing.”
	Freya blushed and nodded as they drove under the ivy-covered brick pillar supported rod iron arch that marked the campus boundary. The road lead directly into the area of tightly packed buildings with architecture styles ranging from colonial to nineteenth century. Clayton pulled into a parking lot shared by many of the community businesses. Fortunately, early in the week there was little competition for available spaces.
	They walked from the lot up the brick sidewalks to a larger building on the corner of the block. The neon sign above the door was a marlin and a simple title of, The Dock. Clayton opened one of the wooden double doors for Freya and then scurried around her to open the second set of doors in the entryway.
	They were greeted by a small mouse hostess and Clayton told her that a corner booth for two would be preferable. She smiled and scribbled something in the dry erase marker on the seating rotation, picked two menus from the podium and escorted them back into the restaurant. The nice floral designs on the carpet, various paintings of ships and lighthouses and the ship name plaques made the restaurant appear more upscale than Clayton had led her to believe.
	“I thought you said we weren't going anywhere too fancy?” Freya commented as she noticed the brass foot rail along the bar.
	“It's a nice place, sure. It doesn't hurt the wallet too much though.” Clayton chuckled as he took his coat off her shoulders and she eased into the booth.
	The hostess put their menus in front of them and made sure the separate dessert and drink menu was prominently displayed in the middle of the table. Freya opened up the menu as Clayton was easing in beside her on the bench seat that curved around the corner of the wall.
	“They have raw oysters,” Freya noted aloud.
	“I'm afraid I won't be sharing that appetizer,” Clayton said as he opened his menu. “Do you like wine?”
	“I'm afraid I don't imbibe.”
	“Oh. Not at all?”
	“Nnm. I don't use anything that would be mind altering.” She looked up at him with a smile.
	“Ah. Well, do you mind if I?”
	“No, not at all. Just make sure you can drive me back. You'll find yourself lacking your jacket if I have to walk home.”
	The evening progressed through some small talk, appetizers, salads and a main course. Clayton asked Freya about her studies, her major and what she wanted to do after she got her doctorate. Freya even ventured a sip of Clayton's wine but found quickly that her first drink of alcohol wasn't to her liking, which elicited an amused laugh from Clayton. They opted out of dessert, since Freya wasn't big on sweets and Clayton had gorged on one of their larger entree selections.
	Freya smiled as Clayton helped her out of the booth. He'd been very gentlemanly and paid for the entire meal, raw oysters and all. They walked back to the car and he drove her back to the campus. She was contemplating the evening with the wolf as he pulled back into the parking lot near her dorm. 
	“Is everything okay?” he asked. He had apparently noticed her slight uneasiness.
	“Just … thinking.”
	“Mind if I ask what about?”
	Freya looked out of the passenger window as Clayton pulled into an empty parking spot. She tried her best to gather her thoughts into what it was she was actually thinking about. Dinner had been nice enough. Clayton seemed sweet and she enjoyed the attention he had shown her, but she was worried he might have done it out of a sense of obligation after walking out of the coffee shop. It was incredibly simple yet infinitely complicated at the same time.
	“Freya?”
	She looked back over at him and shook her head.
	“Well, do you mind if I walk you to your dorm?”
	Freya shook her head disapprovingly once again. She unbuckled and slipped Clayton's jacket off her shoulders and handed it to him. Her paw froze on the door handle but paused when she heard Douglass' voice in her mind. You can't keep turning down every guy that's interested in you. It rang so clearly that she had to remind herself that he wasn't in the car with them.
	“Freya, are you okay?”
	“You're only the third person, outside of my psychiatrist, I've ever shared my secret with.”
	“You have a psychiatrist?”
	Freya chuckled softly and waved her paw, “Not like that. You need a letter of recommendation from a psychiatrist for the reassignment.”
	“Well, like I said, I can't pretend to know what it's like. I know you've not shown me anything other than you're an intelligent young woman.” Clayton rested his right paw on the shifter and looked at her while he gathered his thoughts. “I would like to go out with you again, if you want.”
	Freya looked at his paw on the shifter and put her paw on top of it. She looked into his eyes and saw sincerity. She moved her body up out of her seat and leaned over to him and timidly pressed her lips to his. Clayton returned her soft kiss, and then pressed himself forward into a more firm one. Freya felt his paw slide out form underneath hers and he brought it up to her cheek.
	As one kiss melded into another, that tugging lonely feeling began to melt away in the moment. She kept her lips to his as she lifted out of the seat and over the center console. Clayton dropped his jacket onto the floorboard and helped her onto him. She eased down against him as her paws slid against his chest and his paws wrapped around her back.
	Freya cooed in his muzzle as her paws rubbed him. It'd been so long since she'd been kissed and they rapidly worked into a near frenzy. Clayton's lupine tongue was much broader than the little mole she was used to. Her body pressed against his and she didn't want it to end, but an uncomfortable feeling in her groin caused her to pull back and blush furiously. “I'm sorry … my … is touching you.”
	Clayton hugged her closed to him with one arm as he raised the seat adjustment lever with his heel and pushed the seat as far back as it would go. He then gripped the seat back adjustment with his other paw and the weight of the two caused it to recline back until it hit the seat cushion of the rear bench seat. Freya yipped as gravity took hold and they sunk mostly out of view of the car windows. Clayton's paw moved from the lever to Freya's rear and he pulled her body close to his causing her building erection confined in her panties to rub his midsection again. “I noticed.”
	Freya blushed deeply and tried to shy her gaze away but Clayton's strong muzzle brushed against hers and forced her to look into his eyes. Her body trembled and she moaned softly as she ground her hips down against him. Easing her head back and raised off him a bit as she supported herself against his chest. “You don't have to.”
	“I've never-” Clayton sighed wantingly as he rubbed her rear in one paw and her side with the other, “-I've never been with a woman … like you.” he paused to nuzzle her cheek. “Right now, there's nothing I want to do more in the world. I'm afraid you'll have to show me how though.”
	“You like me how I am? Even though I'm not like other girls?”
	“Freya, I'm certain you are my type.”
	Freya smiled before leaning in to kiss Clayton again. She reached behind her unzipped the back of her dress and then unfastened her tail clasp. She pulled Clayton's tie loose and started unbuttoning his shirt from the collar down as Clayton unfastened his belt. The top of his paws brushed against her erection as the tip slipped from the elastic band of her panties.
	Freya moaned at the feel of his fur rubbing against the last of what remained of Geoffrey. Several years of her treatments had left her size diminished but there was still enough of her maleness that left no mistake how aroused she was. After Clayton got his zipper down he haphazardly pushed his waistband to his knees with the otter on top of him. The wolf's freed canid member rubbed up the inside of Freya's dress and slid to her tailbase.
	The otter eased her arms out of the shoulder straps of her dress and pulled it down until the form fitting garment snagged on her curves. She unclasped her strapless bra and tossed it in the passenger seat. Lifting her body up she pulled her panties as far down as she could and awkwardly lifted her right leg out so they draped around her left ankle.
	She noticed Clayton fishing in his center console for something. He pulled a foil wrapper out with a distinctive 'O' shape in the middle. She chuckled as he tore the top half of the condom wrapper open. “Such a thoughtful guy, you are.”
	“Ah, well …” Clayton pulled the latex prophylactic from its container, “I've found that the best surprises in life are … well, surprises.”
	“And such a poet,” she said before reaching over the console and opening her black handbag. She pulled a clear bottle with a flip cap out and opened it with a snap.
	“What's that?”
	“Something to make things go a little easier,” she explained and poured some of the clear liquid on her paw. “Carrying it around is a little habit I got into when I was dating Dougie.” She reached down and dabbed some on the tip of Clayton's member which caused him to jerk a little at the sudden coolness then groan as her paw wrapped around his length and stroked upward.
	Freya removed her paw and Clayton put the rolled condom in its place and worked it down his length to his sheath. Freya reached around behind her and smeared some of the lubricant over her tailhole with a soft murmur then back around to the condom and coated the outside with what she could of the remainder.
	Freya rocked her body forward and eased back down until the tip of Clayton's member rested against her tailbase again. She guided it against her puckered ring but stopped when Clayton's paws gripped her rear and held her in place. Freya's heart skipped a nervous beat as she thought he was having a second thought, but the wolf leaned up and locked his muzzle on her breast.
	Freya gasped as his large muzzle and broad tongue teased her sensitive nipple. Nearly her entire upper b-cup into fit in his mouth as he gently nipped, suckled and lapped over her soft mound. She eased her paw pads against his chest under his shirt and held his fur between her fingers. She balled her fists and gripped his chest fur tightly as he moved to the other breast.
	The otter gasped as Clayton lowered her rear slowly down and his tip slid inside her slickened rear. She moaned as the taper of his lupine maleness inched deeper into her; all while keeping his mouth locked to her breast. Her furred cheeks came to rest gently against Clayton's thighs and she nuzzled against his headfur. They stayed that way for a few moments before she said, “I'm going to start moving now, all right?”
	Freya couldn't help but smile as Clayton released her breast from his muzzle and looked up at her with boyish anticipation. Moving her paws to his shoulders, she braced herself as she lifted a few inches out of his lap and then lowered back down. Even with the latex barrier between them, the feel of a man inside her again sent electric waves of pleasure through her body.
	She started slow at first, squeezing with her self-taught muscle ring in a way that would make most women envious and definitely made most men's toes curl. It wasn't too long before she felt Clayton start bucking up against her as she eased back down. Freya pushed her lips against his and kissed him over and over as they built up into a steady rhythm.
	The windows around them began to fog as her and Clayton's breathing became more rapid. They shared kisses between moans and panting, all the while she felt Clayton's bulge at the base of his length growing more defined. She'd never felt the distinct tapirs and flares of a lupine before, and it rubbed and teased her in all the right ways.
	Freya's erection ground against Clayton's exposed stomach as they moved, eliciting more pleasure for her as she bounced against the wolf. It was unlike any of her experiences with Douglass or her own exploration with toys. Freya couldn't help but feel a little guilty as the thought that Clayton's size felt better than her smaller mole lover.
	Her guilt was short lived as Clayton pressed his muzzle against her neck and bit her with a masculine growl. His teeth dug into her flesh under her thick pelt with enough force to assert their presence but enough tenderness not to break the skin. Freya pushed her arms under his open shirt and around his back, holding herself against him tightly as she felt his thrusts grow more frantic. The otter's tailring butted against his knot as it grew too thick to slide inside her easily. 
	“Clayton!” She gasped and hugged herself to him as tightly as she could. “I feel it. I want it!” Freya didn't have to wait long as Clayton's paws squeezed her cheeks roughly and he pushed her down against him with a hard upward thrust. The resistance gave way and the bulb slipped inside of her with an audible lewd slurp. Freya yipped at the sudden entry and her member began to spasm as the sensation pushed her over, soaking his stomach and her dress with pulses of her orgasm.
	She held herself as tightly against his body as he held her rear to his sheath while still bucking against her. Freya heard him grunt, muffled by her course fur, and his member and knot swelled even more inside of her. With an approving murmur, Freya felt Clayton's orgasm fill the end of the condom.
	They caught their breath as the climax faded into afterglow. Clayton released her neck from his maw and lovingly licked the bite mussed fur a few times before Freya nuzzled her way into a deep kiss, but a sudden knock on the window caused them to jump.
 	“Campus Security,” they heard a voice call from the outside.
	 Freya quickly lifted herself off Clayton with an audible pop and a yip they both shared at the sudden removal of Clayton's tie from Freya's rear. She moved back into the passenger seat and pulled the bottom of the dress down over her exposed nethers and put her arms through the straps to cover her breasts. She looked over at the driver's side window as Clayton buttoned his shirt up half way and shoved his member in his pants as he pulled them up and lifted the seat back lever to raise it up.
	Freya looked nervously at the floorboard, hoping the panties bunched around her ankle were out of view as Clayton pushed the window switch and the window opened a crack to reveal a gruff looking coyote in a security jacket with his flashlight pointed into the car. Clayton was too nervous to speak but the coyote had no trouble in chuckling at the situation as he peeked in at the disheveled wolf and his pretty otter girlfriend.
	“Just take it inside, guys,” he said as he turned and walked away. 
	Freya exhaled in relief and then looked over at Clayton. His expression was still one of nervous surprise and she giggled at him. “You heard the man,” she said as she grabbed her handbag, pulled up her panties and opened the door. She heard the car behind her shut off and the driver's door open and close as Clayton scrambled to catch up to her. His left paw took hold of her right and she turned her head to smile at him.
	“Sorry. I, uh, in the car, you know?”
	“Such a poet you are.” Freya laid her head against his shoulder and noticed that the wolf's right paw held the box of condoms from his console. She giggled softly before leaning up and pecking his cheek in a quick kiss.
	Normal isn't what others tell us it should be. Normal is what we do for ourselves. Douglass' words of wisdom rang in her mind. The bookish otter with a secret and the varsity football wolf with an uncommon taste in women was beginning to feel normal to her.