Standing on the Edge of Forever

12

I let him know I was going to be home soon. He sounded a little disappointed at first, making me wonder if he was having second thoughts. But it turned out I had messed up a surprise he had prepared for me. He had planned a weekend getaway. He decided that since I'd be going past the cabin he had gotten, I might as well just stop there and he'd join me when he'd get off of work.

I thought it was sweet that he wanted to be alone with me. Wondered fleetingly where he had reserved a cabin from and whether it would be okay for me to be there earlier than planned. I decided if he wasn't worried about it, I shouldn't be either.

I drove into a heavily wooded area. Was kind of surprised such places remained around here. I followed a narrow road through the woods until I reached the cabin. I was amazed. He may have called it a cabin, but was more of a good sized house. In front of it was a large bronze statue of a grizzly bear, its forepaw thrust out, its maw open, mid-roar. I laughed in delight, circling it.

I stopped at the house to grab a few things. After all, I might need some clothes if we left the cabin. Not that I was hoping we would.

My phone chimed.

"OMG," it said.

I laughed and called him.

"I'm guessing you found it," I said.

"Holy cow! Where did you find it?"

"The cabin?" I said, grinning evilly.

"Well, I'm assuming it's part of the cabin...."

"Actually it wasn't always part of the cabin," I said. I knew he was talking about the huge bronze bear that graced the grounds in front of the cabin. "I...had it poured a few years ago. There's a foundry just up the river a ways. That's why I call it the Bear's Den. Do you like it?"

"Oh, fuck yeah I like it."

I could hear the rustling of leaves as he walked around it.

"Okay, go to the back of the bear," I said.

"Hmmm. I do like a nice bear ass," he chuckled.

"Now grab the tail. Turn it clockwise and lift."

He directed me to go to the back of the bear and twist the tail. It clicked and lifted up, revealing a hole containing a set of keys.

I about fell over I was laughing so hard.

"I had so wanted to see your face when you saw that," he said wistfully.

I just bet he did.

"So you got the keys?" he asked.

"Yep," I gasped, trying to stop laughing.

"Okay, then. Get some rest, or check things out if you like."

"Is that the river I see from the cabin?" I asked, seeing sunlight glint downhill.

"Actually, it's a lake. We used to go fishing on it when I was kid."

"So you used to come here?"

"Yeah. Was a family getaway," he said. "There's some food in the fridge if you're hungry. I'll pick up some beer on the way down. And tonight I'll get to sleep next to more than just your pillow," he growled.

I just shook my head, grabbing the key and turning the tail back into place. I wondered idly who designed the statue. He seemed kind of evasive about it.

I climbed the stairs to the wide porch and stood taking in the view. It was so peaceful here. Bird song filled the air and a brisk breeze carried the scent of spring wildflowers on its breath. I was glad he decided to share this with me.

I unlocked the door and went in. It was a nice place, though rather spartan. There was something in the air that told me it hadn't been used in a while, though everything seemed almost freshly cleaned.

I walked into the kitchen, then collapsed in a chair, laughing so hard my sides hurt. On the table was a pile of condom boxes and an extra-large can of shortening.

"U R 2 funny," I texted.

I wiped my eyes and opened the fridge. I didn't see anything that didn't require more effort than I wanted to expend right now, so I just snagged a couple of hot dogs and chewed on them as I explored. I found what I assumed was the master bedroom. I could catch a faint hint of his scent in there. I dropped my bag on the bed and decided to explore the rest of the place. There were a couple more bedrooms then I found a door that opened onto what appeared to be a studio. I moved through the room, taking it all in. There were canvases leaning against one wall and I flipped through them. Some were blank, but others looked similar to some of the pieces hanging in Brian's house.

"Wondered who the artist was," I thought, rather pleased to find out something else about him. Might have explained what he said about the bear out front if he'd done it himself.

Indeed, I found a scale model of the bear made of clay sitting on a few sheets of paper. I carefully lifted it up and realized the papers were detailed sketches of the mechanism in the bear.

"Huh," I grunted. "Something of an engineer, too."

I stepped around a canvass set on an easel and froze, feeling my eyes begin to tear up.

At the bottom were the two of us, arms around each other. Above him was an attractive man with olive skin and a thick handlebar mustache. Above me was....

"Rick," I whispered, a tear running down my face. Above us all, paws spread out was a great, reddish bear. Him, I also knew.

I was almost out of town when my phone rang.

"Hello?" I said.

"Oh my God! It's Rick!" came Paul's strangled voice.

"What?! Rick who? What's wrong?" I asked, pulling into a parking lot.

"I was exploring the cabin and I found a room, it looks like a studio. There's a painting of us and Rick and another guy."

"That's Joe. Wait, what? The red headed guy? That's really what Rick looked like?"

"Exactly like him," he said tightly. "How did you know?"

"I...I don't know. The night after you left I had this dream. I was watching these two bears, and I mean real grizzly bears, going at it. Then the bears became you and that guy. Joe was there and he and that guy urged us together. The images kept bugging me until I did that painting."

"You did this?" he breathed.

"Yeah," I said sheepishly. "I'm a gay artist. What are the chances?"

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Dunno," I said, knowing he couldn't see my shrug. "To be honest, I...hadn't really done anything since Joe died. Until now."

"It's beautiful," he said, the emotion in his voice touching my heart.

"It still doesn't explain how I knew what he looked like. You only described him in very basic terms. Just very weird."

"Weird," he repeated softly.

"Look, why don't you relax and I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you."

"Love you, too. And soon I hope."

I chuckled and hung up, somewhat unnerved. How had my unconscious conjured up what Rick looked like? Maybe there's something there beyond my understanding. Or just an incredible coincidence.

Either way, it wasn't getting me there just sitting here. I pulled back onto the road, having plenty to keep my mind occupied on the drive.

I couldn't understand how he could have known what Rick looked like, as human, much less as a bear. He seemed to be as confused as I was. He told me it came to him in a dream and he felt compelled to paint it. He mentioned that in his dream, two bears had become Rick and me. That really made my hair stand on end.

I was surprised and pleased when he told me he had done it. It occurred to me that he'd likely done the pieces I'd admired at his...our house. Also answered why he'd been evasive about the statue as well. He kind of felt it was a little more stereotypical than he really cared to be.

I stood staring at the painting for a long time. Finally, I stepped back to snap a picture of it and sent it to Jim. I was still standing there when my phone rang.

"What the hell?" Jim's voice came over the phone.

"I...got to Brian's place early," I told him. "This was waiting for me. Well, maybe not for me, but it was here."

"That's Rick, man and bear, isn't it," he said uncertainly.

"Yes it is. He said this came to him in a dream. He said he dreamed about Rick and I as bears, then becoming men."

The silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes.

"Are you sure he didn't take your cum somehow? You sure you didn't bite him, or he you?" he said finally.

"I don't think so, unless he dug the rubbers out of the trash. Or sucked it out of my boxers," I said, then tensed, realizing it was possible. I didn't know for sure and the thought worried me. "Well, I'm not sure. He said something about clouds of dried cum floating up from the bed. Could that...?"

"Look, we don't know anything for sure. You'll know when you see him. His scent will have changed, even this soon. You know that. If he's not, I don't know what to tell you. Either way, you wanted to tell him, so this might be an opening for you. Are you sure he didn't just go through your stuff and find a picture of Rick?"

"I...I don't think so. I don't think I have any pictures of him."

I took a deep breath and something occurred to me. As much as he loved Joe, I hadn't seen any other pictures of him. Granted, I hadn't seen the entire place, but still it was odd.

"Maybe I am just overreacting. Sorry to bother you."

"No bother. Besides, it looks like a really nice painting," he said. I liked it, but Jim knew his art. If he liked it, it was good.

I thanked him and hung up. I stood for a minute more, then reached out and gingerly touch the surface. The surface was mostly dry, though in places where the paint was especially thick, it gave slightly. It was definitely recently done.

I smiled suddenly.

"If you are watching over us," I said to the painting, "Thank you."

I wiped my eyes and left the room.

13

It was a little after noon. I considered taking a nap, but I wasn't really tired. I had driven all night, but was still hopped up on caffeine. I wandered through the house and stepped out onto the back deck. I looked out through the woods, sunlight glistening off the lake.

An idea struck me. He had said he used to go fishing here. Maybe I'll see if I could catch a couple of fish for dinner. I didn't have a fishing pole, but then, don't really need one.

I headed down the hill and came upon the lake. It was pretty good sized, so I just might be able to get some decent sized fish.

I stripped my clothes off, piling them at the edge of the trees. As I walked toward the water, I willed myself to change. I dropped to all fours and my line of vision shifted. I splashed out into the lake, fully enjoying myself. Until this week, it had been a long while since I could let the bear free. Being with Jim and the rest had reminded me how good it felt.

I was right about the fish and soon had a couple good sized trout. I waddled out of the water, shaking droplets from my fur. I shifted back to my normal shape and grabbed the fish by the gills. I got to my clothes and searched through my pockets, thinking I had my knife. Apparently, it must be in my bag of dirty clothes.

"Hope I didn't leave it at Jim's" I grumbled and put my clothes back on.

I was surprised when I got back to the house. Brian's Jeep was parked beside my truck.

I walked into the kitchen, calling his name, but there was no answer. I tossed the fish into the fridge and walked further into the house. I entered the bedroom and heard the shower running. Grinning like a madman, I stripped my clothes off again and went into the bathroom.

"Hey, you," I said as I slipped into the shower behind him, then yelped. "That's cold!"

He turned, his hard cock slapping against my leg.

"What are you?" he said, his teeth chattering.

"What do you mean," I said, tensing. The fey look in his eyes frightened me. I reached around and turned off the water. He glared up at me, shivering with the cold.

"I got here a bit ago. You weren't in the house, so I went down to the lake and saw a bear. That bear was you. Am I going nuts?"

A barrage of emotions hit me like a fist to the gut. I had intended to tell him, but I hadn't wanted to do it like this.

I reached out to grab a towel and wrapped it around him, gently rubbing at his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I...I was going to tell you this weekend."

I pulled him towards me and was rather surprised when he didn't resist at all. I held him, breathing deep his scent, but he smelt the same as when I met him. I hadn't unknowingly changed him. Relief swept through me, as well as a little regret.

I got there a little after twelve thirty. I opened the door and the house was quiet. He wasn't in any of the bedrooms. His bag of clothes was there, sitting on the bed I had slept in the prior weekend. I went outside, growing a little concerned.

"Well," I said to myself, "I said something about fishing. Maybe he's down at the lake."

I started down the trail leading to the shore. As the trees were thinning out, I came upon a pile of clothing. On the top was a black jockstrap. I picked it up, inhaling the thick aroma of ball sweat, piss, and cum. Yeah, I recognized Paul's scent along with several others.

I could hear splashing coming from the shore.

The thought of catching sight of him skinny dipping drew me down the slope. I moved as quietly as I could, feeling quite voyeuristic. My erection tented my pants and I had to pause to adjust myself. I crept through the brush and peeked between the branches.

What I saw left me shocked. Splashing in the water was a grizzly bear. And a big one at that. My shock quickly turned to panic. Paul was around here somewhere with a bear on the loose. A bear! I've never heard of a bear in this area, but here was one now.

As I watched, it...no...definitely a he, thrust his head into the water and pulled out a good sized fish. He carried his catch to the shore where another fish lay. He dropped it beside the other and shook himself, water flying from his fur. I'm not sure whether it was fear or fascination that held me paralyzed. Something about this bear, its coloration, was oddly familiar. As I watched, muscles began moving beneath his fur. The fur itself began to thin and in places, recede. The muzzle shortened and the ears moved down the side of his head. I clutched at the tree beside me, my heart pounding in my chest as I realized the bear was turning into Paul.

As he bent to pick up the fish, I crept back up the hill. I closed the door and leaned against it, shaking. I wasn't sure what I felt. I knew I should be terrified, but my cock had other ideas. I stumbled to the bathroom. I stripped down and turned on the cold water full blast. The water pelted my skin like sleet, yet my cock stayed rock hard.

"I'm a werebear," I said simply.

"A Gurahl?" he asked looking up at me.

I have to admit, it wasn't the question I expected.

"You're a gamer?" I said, swearing if I ever met that game developer, I was going to kick his ass.

"Used to be. Played a Gurahl a couple of times. Even played a weretiger in Shadowrun once."

"Well, I'm not a Gurahl. That's make believe. I'm an actual werebear."

"What's the difference?" he asked, stepping closer into my embrace.

I was rather surprised. I had more than half expected him to be frightened. He seemed more angry than scared. But even that was fading.

"Well, I'm not going to pretend I know all that much about those role-playing games, but how we become werebears is either through an exchange of blood, or semen."

"So that's why you insisted on using the rubbers," he said.

I was kind of impressed at his grasp of things. I was also surprised by how calmly he seemed to be taking this. The flash of anger he'd had seemed to have been spent. I realized he was angry because I hadn't been honest with him, but was willing to move passed it. Rather like how he had responded when he had found out Joe hadn't told him he was positive. The realization gave me the courage to continue.

"Yes," he said, stroking my wet hair. "It's generally not a good idea to go spreading that around."

"Why not," I asked.

"Well, have you ever heard of us? Outside your games that is."

"No. Usually just werewolves. Are they real, too?"

"Never met one, so can't say. But what does mankind do with what it doesn't understand?"

I was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"Destroy it," I whispered, suddenly frightened for him.

"Or take it apart to find out how it works," he said sadly. "I'm risking a lot even telling you this."

"Why?" I asked, looking up at him in surprise.

"You're a human and now you know the truth."

"I won't tell. I won't let anything happen to you," I said, squeezing him tightly.

"Why not?" he whispered.

"Because I love you," I said fiercely, staring into his eyes.

"Good. Because I love you too," he responded, a smile spreading across his face. Relief smoothed away the hint of worry and he kiss me passionately. He grabbed my hard cock.

"I thought Mr. Hyde only came out in the morning," he mumbled into my neck, running his thumb around my head.

"He's been waking me up all week," I said, running my hands up his hairy back. "I think he likes you."

"I like them both," he said, rubbing his thumb across my leaking head. "It's like having a different guy every time."

"I'm glad you like it," I chuckled, then shuddered as he started bouncing my nuts.

"I really like that they're both you," he said intensely.

Our lips met, I sucked his tongue into my mouth. He groaned into my mouth, grinding his cock against me. I grabbed it, squeezing out a handful of his lube.

"Can I? Please?" I said, looking at him hopefully.

"No. I want you to think about it first," he said, grabbing my shoulders. "There's more I need to explain, but," he shuddered, "I just want you so bad."

"It's a shame to waste this," I said innocently and began rubbing his pre-cum into his crack. He spread his legs to give me better access. His hole practically swallowed my fingers.

"Looks like this muscle really got a workout this week," I leered.

"Yeah, well, we tend to be pretty randy at the best of times, and when we get together...," he said, licking the side of my neck.

"So, I take it that Jim...." I began.

"Yeah. He and his whole crew are. Actually so was the trucker I hooked up with the first night."

"Just how many of you are there," I said, stopping my finger fucking.

"Not sure," he grunted, squeezing my fingers with his ass muscles. "I promise I'll answer all your questions later, but I need you so bad."

"Like I could compare to those big bears you've been with," I said pensively.

"Brian, they are...like friends with benefits," he murmured.

"And what am I?" I said softly.

"Someone I'd like more from," he said, then groaned as I prodded his prostate.

"Something like this," I said, gripping my cock.

"Yeah, that too," he said, stepping away, my fingers slipping from his hole. He turned, placing his hands against the wall, sticking his ass out. I stepped up behind him rubbing my leaking dick up and down his crack. My head found his pucker and with a firm push, I went in to the hilt.

"Aaah, fuck," I groaned. I tend to have a hair trigger when I first get into a hot ass. It took all my self-control to keep from blasting my load as soon as I was planted deep in his ass.

"Oh, yeah," he growled. "Damn, it is a lot easier with Mr. Hyde."

I held still for a long moment, feeling my dick throb inside him. Finally, I began pulling out slowly, biting my lip, my fingers digging into his hips. I began moving back in, straining to hold back. I shuddered, waiting to regain control. Eventually I was able to begin thrusting into his ass.

"Paul," I growled.

He grunted in response, pushing back against me.

"Is it either/or, or is there an in between?" I babbled, but he seemed to understand.

In response, he dropped down to all fours. His ass began swelling beneath my hands, sprouting even more fur then usual. His ass muscles writhed around my cock, making me moan. I felt something prodding me in the stomach and looked down to see a stubby tail growing above his ass.

"Like that?" he grumbled, looking back. His lower face had pushed forward, not quite a muzzle. His ears were furry and his eyes were further apart. Hair was sprouting all over his face, a long tongue snaking out, licking his lips.

Some people might have been terrified. I just trembled, then began plowing him, blasting my load deep into his ass in one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever experienced.

He collapsed on top of me, face buried in my fur, arms wrapped tightly around me. His cock was still buried in me and I could feel it swelling, pushing against my prostate.

"Yeah, fuck," I growled. "I can feel Dr. Jekyll taking over."

I pushed up, lifting his feet off the floor. He wrapped his legs around my haunches, pressing his heels into my hip bone. I squeezed my ass, feeling him stir the pot. I chirred deep in my chest as he ran his hands down my sides. His hand brushed against my dick and he stiffened.

"Holy fucking mother of God," he swore, trying to get a grip on it.

"What?" I growled, grinning back at him. "Didn't think it'd change like the rest of me?"

"Damn, don't know if I can take that monster," he said. I could see fear in his eyes, mixed with desire.

I shook my head, feeling him hold tightly onto my ass..

"You couldn't handle me like this," I growled regretfully, licking the drool from my lips.

He reached beneath me to fondle my cock. I could feel it leak into his hand. He smeared the clear fluid down my shaft, feeling the thick stickiness. He smiled and held his hand out to me and I flicked my long, flexible tongue out, licking my goo from his fingers.

As I ran my tongue around his fingers, his eyes rolled back into his head. He began shooting another load up my ass. His flared head rubbing against my nut caused me to roar as I blasted my cum onto the floor beneath me.

He lay on top of me, breathing heavily. I began moving cautiously toward the doorway, feeling his arms tighten around me. I carried him to the bedroom, moving carefully so as not to dislodge him. Yet.

I padded next to the bed, leaning suddenly, sending him rolling onto the mattress, his cock popping out of my ass as he fell. I snuffled at his crotch, licking him clean and making him shudder.

"You okay?" I said, shifting back to full human form.

He laid there panting, mouth hanging open.

"No," he said, then smiled happily. "Your dick isn't in my ass yet."

With a chuckle, I left to get the rubbers and grease from the kitchen.

"You sure you still want to use them?" he asked when I returned.

My nostrils flared, but my resolve remained.

"I want you to take my load," I said calmly, beginning to work the grease into his hole, "But not yet. You need to make an informed decision."

The fact that he still wanted it, knowing the truth, made my cock throb. But there was more he needed to know first. A lot more.

He shuddered as my thick, slippery fingers stretched his sphincter.

"What? You think I can't think with a dick up my ass?" he chuckled.

"I've seen you with my dick up your ass. I'm betting you're only thinking about one thing."

"Yeah, but that time, I was wishing it would never stop. Now I know I don't have to worry about it ending."

He pulled me down, snuffling and licking around my lips. He spread his legs and grabbed my sheathed cock, trying to force it toward his hole.

I chuckled and reached down for the rank jock I had been wearing all week for him.

"Got you something," I sneered, feeling very wicked. I dangled it over his face. "I wore it all the way out there and back. Every time I got my ass plowed, I had it on. Every time I plowed a hot bear ass, I had it on. Now what should I do with it?" I growled staring down at the hot bear sprawled beneath me.

He wrapped his arms around his legs, spreading them wide.

"Gimme," he snarled, licking his lips.

He shoved the rank jock into my face, its cum crusted pouch scraping across my face, the heady stench of sweat and piss assaulting my nostrils. He took advantage of my lust to penetrate me.

"Fuck!" he groaned, sinking easily into my upturned ass. "Works better than poppers."

I grunted as I twitched on his huge dick. He bent down to stare into my glassy eyes.

"Think you can handle it if I take my time?" he said.

I squeezed my ass muscles and his eyes crossed.

"Oh, yeah?" he growled and pulled his dick out of my ass, then drove it back in, hard.

My arms fell to my side, my legs wrapping around his waist, my heels trying to force him deeper into my ass.

He began a slow, steady rhythm. He pushed my arms up and began licking my pits. I moaned through the fabric of the jockstrap as he kissed his way across my chest. He flick my right nipple with his tongue, then bit down on the hard nub. I writhed beneath him, stirring my bowels with his dick. He pushed my ass up, my dick hanging over my face, my own pre-cum leaking out to splatter across my face. The jock falling aside as my tongue flickered out, trying to catch my cock drool. He began pounding my ass, his cock head punching my prostate, again and again. The sensations were too much for me and my load sprayed out, down onto my chest and face. He bent to lick my cum from my beard, sharing it with me. I sucked my cum roughly from his tongue, squeezing my ass around his throbbing phallus. With a roar he filled the rubber with his seed. I could feel the heat of it through the thin latex.

He held the base of the rubber, pulling it from my hole. He tied it off and tossed it in the trash. He hovered over me, hold my sated gaze, dropping down to lick the cum from my chest. He laid beside me, pulling me into his embrace, eyes heavy. I wrapped my arms around him, my face buried in his chest hair.

"Do you forgive me for not telling you sooner?" he asked plaintively.

"Yes," I replied, snuggling closer to him.

14

The dreams began almost immediately. Bears and men, men and bears, faces blurring into muzzles and back. Writhing bodies, driving dicks.

I awoke abruptly, listening to Paul snoring. Images flickered through my mind, tugging at my imagination.

Finally I slipped out of the bed and quietly padded down the hall. It was only late afternoon, but I figured Paul was so exhausted, he'd sleep a while yet, unless hunger roused him. I opened the door to my studio, closing it quietly behind me. I swept the sketches from the table and grabbed a pad of paper. I began drawing rapidly, trying to catch the images from my dreams. As so often happens when I'm working, I lost all track of time.

When the pad and pencil were plucked from my hands, I looked up, blinking confusedly at Paul. I realized he's been calling my name and I smiled up at him, then frowned, taking in his stunned expression.

The sound of a phone ringing woke me a couple of hours later. I yawned, stretching my arms out, then froze as I realized I was alone. I rolled over and pulled his pants to me. His phone had stopped ringing but showed a voice mail.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

"Brian?" I called, but got no answer.

It was a lot to deal with, what little I had told him. I began to worry he might do something rash. I carried his phone with me as I wandered through the house, looking for him. His Jeep was still parked out front, so he had to be around here somewhere. At last I reached the studio, and eased the door open.

"Brian?" I called again, then saw him. He was seated at the drafting table, naked, the late afternoon sun making his fur almost glow. The pencil he held was furiously flying across the paper in front of him. He didn't seem to hear me. I walked towards him, glancing at the painting set beside him. The five sets of eyes seemed to look back at me.

I stepped up behind him and looked down at what he was drawing. I froze as I recognized the faces caught in time on the sheets strewn around him. This one showed Josh, with Tucker resting his chin on his cub's shoulder. That one was Jim, caught mid-shift. Another was Mikey and Cliff embracing. Their images repeated, though in different states.

My mouth opened and closed soundlessly. I laid my hand on his shoulder. His hands continued working, but he looked up at me. His eyes were not quite the same color. They looked different, yet strangely familiar. My eyes widened and I stepped back, my gaze flickering to the painting. The color and shape of his eyes looked just like the ones of the man with his hand on Brian's shoulder.

"Hello, Paul," he said, but the voice wasn't his.

I swallowed heavily.

"And you are, Joe?" I guessed, feeling the hair all over my body standing on end.

He smiled broadly.

"I don't mean to scare you," he said. His voice held a hint of a Mediterranean accent.

"Well, you're not doing a good job about it," I said. "What have you done to Brian?"

"I haven't done anything to him. I just wanted to take this opportunity to talk to you."

"Are you a ghost? Are you possessing him?" I said. I could feel myself beginning to shift.

"I'm honestly not sure," he said with a sigh. "It may be that I'm no more than a memory. Or, perhaps, it's that the ones we love never really leave us."

His eyes were so tender and kind that I relaxed back to fully human.

"It might be partly my fault, or perhaps something about him. I can only speak for this instance, but when I was...alive, I think he gave me part of his heart, and I him. It may be that that is what happened. He lives, so a bit of me lives on. I died, and a part of him went with me," he said, his eyes growing sad. "Whatever the case, I don't think he really knows I'm still here, within him. I don't know if he should know. He might just end up blaming himself."

"He tried to set you free," I said softly, remembering.

"Exactly. I don't know if it was because he didn't really want to lose me, or that I didn't want to leave him. Instead, I'm within him. But since I died, he's shut himself off from...everything. He wasn't living, he has just been...existing. You changed that. You showed him life might still be worth living again. I was finally able to get through to him, to let him know it was all right to live again, to love again."

"Uh...thanks?" I said uncertainly.

"When we first met, it was much like with you, it was love at first sight," he smiled at my surprise. "But at first I was skeptical. I didn't believe he was what he seemed to be." His eyes grew rueful.

"Yeah, sometimes he seems...too good to be true," I said, amazed that I admitted what I had been feeling.

He nodded slightly.

"We fought a few times," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, I fought. It was a struggle, knowing what I had, what I could end up doing to him. But I couldn't bring myself to tell him. I was afraid I'd lose him. But, I learned better. He is what he is."

"Okay, I'm talking to his deceased lover, watching him draw pictures of people he's never met, but who exactly is he supposed to be?"

"He's just...Brian. The face he shows the world is the one they need to see. But the one those he loves sees is the true one," he said pointedly. "I don't think he really understands how he does some of the things he does. He just does them. I'm not sure about the drawings," he said, looking down as Brian ripped a page out of the pad and began a new picture. "But I will tell you this, he is like a sponge."

"How so?" I asked unable to help myself. "Wet and drippy, I can see."

He laughed. It was a nice laugh.

"No. He's like a sponge in that he absorbs almost everything around him. Sights, sounds, smells...and the way he processes things, well, it's certainly beyond me. He can make intuitive leaps that most people either don't or can't."

"So that's why he seemed to accept what I am so easily."

He nodded slightly.

"He's a good man. He would willingly sacrifice everything for those he loves," he said looking at me seriously.

"I don't want to force this on him," I said urgently.

"Just let him decide for himself," he smiled. "He was quite right when he told you he can't be forced into anything he doesn't want to do. Some might call him stubborn, but he just always does what he thinks right, regardless of the cost to himself. Just give him a chance."

"I will," I promised quietly.

He smiled at me one last time and his features faded from Brian's face. Brian's eyes were flat and seemingly unseeing as he turned back to the work in his hands.

I stepped forward and plucked the pad and pencil from his hands. He jerked and looked up at me, blinking, as if waking up.

He smiled brightly up at me, then worry creased his face.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"No...nothing," he said, his eyes troubled.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, concerned.

"Well, kinda," he said, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. "But you had a phone call," he said, brandishing my cell phone.

"Oh, thanks," I said and he mumbled something about fish and headed toward the kitchen.

I checked my voice mail and listened to the message from Judy.

"Hi. Just wanted to let you know how the meeting went," she began, pride evident in her voice. "I was able to get exactly what you wanted. Have a good weekend and we'll talk on Monday about what you owe me for this." With a laugh, she ended her message.

"Well, she certainly deserves it," I chuckled, looking at the drawings strewn about me. "Guess I better go see if Paul needs any help."

I walked into the kitchen and found him standing at the sink, cleaning the fish. He seemed to be deep in thought.

My mind was racing as I gutted and filleted the fish. I didn't understand what I had just experienced. Had it really been Joe, speaking to me through the man he loved? Or was it indicative of some serious mental instability on Brian's part. But if it was the latter, it didn't explain how he could know so well what Rick and the others looked like. Either way, I did agree that I had to tell him everything.

While I was working, he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me, laying his cheek against my back.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, pensively.

"No, why?"

"You seem a little...tense," he said.

I snorted, looking back at him.

"Would think I should be the one asking you that."

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," I grinned. "Figure you've got lots of questions for me."

"I do, but there's one question I'd like answered now," he said, turning me to face him.

I looked into those dark eyes, expecting one emotion, but finding another.

"What would you have done if I hadn't...caught you?" he asked.

"I told you, I had planned on telling you this weekend. Not sure how I would have brought it up, but I was going to tell you."

He searched my face then gave me a lopsided smile.

"Yeah, I can understand that might not be the easiest thing to bring up. 'How was your day? How was the drive up? I'm a bear. Hope you like fish.'"

I laughed so hard I fell back against the counter as he grinned at me.

"You're something else, you know that?" I said.

"Yep. The question is, what?" he chuckled. "So what is wrong?"

"Well, I woke up and you weren't there," I said, looking into his eyes. "It's...I know it's a lot to take in. Was kind of worried...well, that you decided you couldn't deal with me as I really am."

"I was having strange dreams again. Wanted to capture the images before I lost them. Guess I was dreaming about this afternoon," he chuckled.

I thought about what I should say.

"I don't think so," I said carefully. "Have you ever...recreated something that you've never seen before?"

"Dunno. Sometimes I...visualize things. People. Places. Don't know if they're necessarily real or not. Why?"

"Well, those drawings you were just doing?" he said carefully. "They were of the bears I was with on my trip."

"Really?" he said, in surprise.

I turned, afraid of the anger and jealousy I might see, but only saw confusion in his face. He actually was more surprised that he could have known about them than angry that I'd been with other men.

I pulled him into my arms, his bare flesh warm against mine.

"Why am I having them? The dreams, I mean?" he said.

"I don't know," I whispered. "I do know that when a man is in the process of becoming a werebear, he has a lot of strangely erotic dreams."

"Am I becoming like you?" he said hopefully.

I pulled him close, sniffing at his neck while he writhed and giggled.

"Ticklish?" I chuckled.

"Sometimes," he replied.

I inhaled deeply, taking in his scent. I was relieved that he still fully human, but then was confused anew at why he'd started having the dreams.

"But, no. You're not becoming a bear," I said.

"Yet," he said fiercely.

I lifted him up, feeling his spine pop and he wrapped himself around me.

"This isn't getting supper ready," he said, kissing me on the nose.

Eventually we broke apart. He reached into a cabinet, and pulled out a few cans of spices. He opened them and sniffed the contents, then tossed them to me. While I was finishing filleting the fish, he produced a plank to grill them on and set it in the sink to soak. He started peeling some potatoes, layering slices with butter and garlic. He searched and found a can of green beans and tossed it to me. As I was looking for the can opener, the smell of bacon filled the air. It was nice to cook with someone again.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" I asked, abruptly.

"Not really," he said with a shrug. "Of course, I never believed in werebears either. Why?"

"Just wondering," I said, laughing nervously. I still wasn't sure about who or what I had been talking to.

While things were cooking, he asked about my trip.

He smiled and excused himself for a moment and returned with some of the drawings I had done. There was a couple that could have been father and son. He told me they were Tucker and Josh, the truckers. The other couple were Mike and Cliff, while Jim appeared in some of their pictures, but often alone.

"Jimmy is one of my little brothers. These two are Mikey and Cliff, Jim's cub and grandcub. Tucker was an old friend of Rick's. Don't know how close they were," he said with a wink. "He did stop by to see me when he heard about Rick. Josh is his new cub."

"And they're all...?" I said.

Paul nodded.

"Why does Josh look so much like Tucker, but Cliff doesn't look anything like Mike? Even Mike only has some minor resemblances to Jim," I asked.

"Don't really know. Never really thought about it. I didn't look anything like Rick, either."

"Do you think I'll be as handsome as you?" I said wistfully.

"You're perfect the way you are," he said intensely.

As we ate, he told me about his trip. He talked about what he had done and with whom. I'm not sure if he knew I could tell he was watching for my response. All he'd have had to do was reach under the table to find out what I thought.

We washed the dishes and retired to the livingroom. I brought out a couple of bottles of beer with me, offering him one. He looked at it and laughed.

"You get Bear Naked Ale out here?" he grinned.

"Well, I know where to go," I said, chuckling as I sat beside him, leaning on his shoulder. "Didn't know what you drank, but thought this might be passable. If not, I've also got a couple of bottles of Huge Bear wine downstairs."

"I didn't think you drank," he said, putting his arm around me.

"I...know when it would be a bad idea for me to get drunk," I said. "I'm feeling good, so I know it's okay for me to have a couple."

I snuggled closer to him, inhaling the smell of him.

"I suppose there's a lot I need to explain," he began. "I have to admit, this is the first time I've been in this situation?"

"Talking about it?"

"Well, I was with Rick a long, long time," he said, a little sadly.

I brushed my hand across his chest and he took my hand and brought it to his lips.

"When one of us finds a cub, they stay together for as long as they want. Usually, when a cub becomes a papa bear, he tends to go out on his own."

He chuckled.

"Though sounds like Mike's not ready to go yet."

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Doesn't really show any signs of planning on moving out. Not sure how long Jim's gonna put up with that. He certainly didn't get Rick's patience."

I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it across us.

"Cold?" he asked.

"Just a little chilly. Haven't turned up the furnace yet," I said.

"So is Jim really your brother?" I asked suddenly, feeling his chest shake beneath my head.

"Well, I was...quite unusual for a werebear. I never was very interesting in getting a cub of my own. I wasn't Rick's first cub, nor his last. So, when he had a new cub, I helped raise them. Actually think Rick kinda liked it. I'd play with my brothers to give him a chance to get some rest."

"Isn't that kind of like incest?" I asked innocently.

"No," he laughed. "We're not related by blood...well, not in that way."

His expression darkened for a moment.

"How old are you?" I asked suddenly. Age doesn't usually mean much to me, but something about the way he sometimes talked made me wonder.

He was quiet for a moment, stroking my shoulder.

"Let's just say that Rick and I were together over two hundred and twenty-five years."

"What?" I said, sitting abruptly upright.

He chuckled and tugged me back to him.

"One of the things about us I haven't told you. We live a long time. We can recover from injuries that would kill a normal man, but we aren't invulnerable. We can be killed if we take enough damage. One of the reason we tend to try to stay in touch with the weres we know. If something happens, we can't let the normal people take the body. Don't know if they would be able to find something strange from the body, but it's not a risk we want to take."

I looked up at him, trying to find some indication, some sign. He had a few streaks of gray in his hair, but other than that....

"I've got more gray than you do," I said.

He hugged me tight, kissing my temple.

"It's not without its costs," he said. "The reason we even met was because I had to move on. Too many people were thinking about how long I had been around, but still looked the same. So every so often, we have to pick up and go. Used to be easy. Just pick a new spot and settle down. Now with the Internet...well, it's harder to start over. Actually, that's what my trip out West was for. Had to have Jim show me how make a new identity. I'm afraid I had let Rick take care of all that, so when he was gone...."

"So who are you now?" I asked, somewhat bemused.

"I'm still me, but now I'm a legal citizen of this state," he chuckled. "That is, if you still want me."

I laid back, looking up at him, my head in his lap.

He looked down at my expression and burst out laughing.

"I'm taking that means yes."

I nodded, rubbing the back of my head into his groin.

"Stop that," he chuckled. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation."

"I'm listening," I smiled innocently.

"This would affect you, too," he sighed, reaching down to rub his hand through my chest hair. "If I...made you like me, even before your first change, you'd undergo physical changes. After the change, you'd likely look completely different."

"Different how?" I asked.

"We're never completely sure. You'd likely be bigger, bulkier, hairier," he said, grabbing a handful and tugging gently. "You're a little old for a sudden growth spurt. Are you sure you're prepared to give up everything?"

"For you? Yes."

"Brian! I want you to think about this, and think hard," he said urgently.

"Hard?" I said archly, moving my hand under the blanket.

"Brian!" he cried in frustration, grabbing my wrist.

"Paul!" I replied in the same tone, then turned serious. "Do you know how I've made it through the last year?"

"I'm afraid to ask," he said hesitantly.

"I would wake up every morning and tell myself, 'One day closer to the day I die.'"

"Oh God!"

"Then you came along and gave me something to live for again."

"Brian...," he began, then I put my finger over his lips.

"We both know that sometimes, forever isn't. Is it wrong for me to hope that maybe this time it will be?"

"You are too much, you know that," he whispered, shaking his head.

"I know this much. I don't have much keeping me here," I said, trying not to think about how true it was. "We could sell the house, I could sell it to you, we could rent it out...."

He smiled at me.

"And live where?"

"Why not here?"

"Here? You mean you own this place?" he said in surprise.

"Yeah, and the lake, and most of the land around it. This is one of the few properties I kept after I lost my family. I only came here with Joe a few times before he got sick."

I paused for a moment, expecting the usual stab of pain thinking of him usually brought on. There was sadness, but not the debilitating agony.

"Never even brought Tom here, so no one really knows it's here. Well Uncle Sam does, but he only cares if he doesn't get his tax money."

"Sounds like you've thought this through," he said, rubbing his chin.

"Let's just say I can think on my feet. Even if you think I can't with your dick up my ass," I grinned wickedly.

He growled at me, but the effect was ruined by his grin.

"What about your job?"

"I never really cared for it," I said with a shrug. "Only took the position because my father died."

"What do you mean?"

I sighed.

"Well, you aren't the only one who wasn't completely forthright. I'm the owner and CEO of the family business. Not exactly the career I envisioned for myself, even if he hoped one of us would take it over. It's a good thing I'm a fast learner. Pulled it through the recession intact."

"Impressive," he said, his eyebrows raised.

"Granted, part of that was from me voluntarily taking a major cut in salary."

"Really?"

"Was either that or have to lay off workers. And I didn't want that. Would take forever to regain all that experience after things turned around."

He ran his hand through my hair.

"You really are something else, aren't you?" he said tenderly.

I smiled up at him.

"Just raised right, I guess. But that call I got earlier? Was the proof I needed to show the company it doesn't really need me. If I choose, I can step down, or even remain president, but from afar, if necessary."

"So you're telling me you're rich?" he said with a lopsided smile.

"Depends on how you define rich. If it's monetary wealth, then yes. But if it's happiness, I am now," I said, reaching up to touch his face.

"Why'd you wait to tell me?" he said.

"Why'd you wait to tell me?" I echoed and chuckled at his chagrin. "Like you said, it's not the type of thing I go around telling people. Tends to attract the wrong kind of people. Would rather have somebody like me for me, rather than my money."

"Understandable."

"So, where do we go from here?" I said.

"I still want you to at least sleep on it."

"Much rather just sleep on you," I teased.

"Well, it would be a shame to waste all those rubbers you bought," he grinned lustfully.

"Yes it would," I agreed.