Fur Fucks Sake

Counter-intuitive as it may sound, closing time was Al's favorite time of the day . Though not for any of the obvious reasons.

Not because he was eager to finish work and head home, nor because he was looking forward to throw back a few beers with colleagues or friends after hours.

No, it was the silence.

Or rather the way the contrasting quiet enveloped the normally perpetually noisy bar like a soft blanket of solemnity when he finally locked the door of The Boatsman's Ale House behind the last patron. For some reason the darkened and deserted locale conveyed a fuzzy feeling of comfort and tranquillity in him. The layout of the place was so familiar that he hardly needed to turn on any lights. The streetlights shining through the dirt-streaked windows from the outside combined with the softly humming neon sign over the bar provided ample illumination for him to safely navigate the premises and finish up his work for the night.

So Al took his time wiping down the tables and flipping the chairs while enjoying the calm solitude in an almost meditative state.

"It's not like Jess is sitting at home eagerly waiting anyway," he mumbled sarcastically to nobody in particular.

He had forgotten where she said that she was going that night - some random upscale party probably - but truth be told, he didn't really care. Al wasn't invited, and wouldn't have attended even if he had been. In fact, many of her friends probably didn't even know that she was married. She didn't wear her wedding ring anymore because of 'allergies'.

"Yeah right," Al thought sardonically.

To say that they had drifted apart was the understatement of the century and, given his recent discovery, ever drifting back together was a highly unlikely prospect.

"Maybe I'm getting old," he sighed.

It was a feeling that often assailed him as of late. The feeling of being an old man long past his prime and hopelessly stuck at a dead end, while Jessica seemed to retain all the energy and drive of a high school sophomore. Al just couldn't keep up anymore. There was no denying that they lived very different lives, and had probably done so for a while before he realized it.

Just in that moment his depressing train of thoughts was derailed by an unexpected noise. The sound of somebody knocking softly on the front door.

He almost dropped a tray of dirty glasses from sheer surprise.

"What the fuck?" he thought to himself. "Who is dumb enough to knock on the door to a closed bar with all the lights out in the middle of the night? Like hell I'd open for anybody at this hour."

Certain that he couldn't be seen from the outside Al stood unmoving next to a table waiting for the knocker to give up and go away. Whomever it was would not be ignored however and kept at it with dogged persistency.

Al considered his options.

Calling the cops was of course the safest bet, but in this part of town they had a fairly long response time this late at night. Especially to incidents that weren't emergencies. He could risk being stuck in the bar till early morning. And simply waiting for the person to get tired and go away seemed an equally long prospect, given the persistent nature of whomever was out there.

"Arh fuck it!"

He grabbed the revolver from under the desk, checked the cylinder (yep, fully loaded) and went to answer the door. The knocking finally stopped just as he grabbed the handle.

Gun in hand and ready for anything Al carefully inched the door open.

"Sorry, but we're closed..." he started. But the next words froze in his throat.

A petite redheaded girl sporting one of those edgy asymmetric hairstyles with partly shaved areas and dressed in a black leather jacket decorated with a myriad of patches sat slumped next to the door in a widening pool of blood. She looked sickly pale and weak.

"Help," she pleaded with an almost inaudible voice.

"Holy shit!" Al exclaimed and pocketed his revolver. "What happened here? Oh my god lass, you are bleeding bad. Come on! Let's get you inside quickly."

Al wasn't a big man, but luckily the girl was unusually light, and he had no problem dragging her inside and locking the door behind them. He tried to handle her as gently as possible, but if she had been attacked by somebody, that somebody could still be out there. Getting them both inside was a priority, he decided.

The girl moaned a little as he carefully placed her on the floor, but otherwise she took it like a champ.

"I'm sorry lass, but we had to get off the street," he apologized. "Just hang on, ok? I'll call for help. Everything is gonna be alright. Don't you worry."

A slim but surprisingly strong hand grabbed his sleeve, and the the girl looked up at him with an intense stare out of a pair of emerald green eyes.

"No! I'll be offed. Shoulder... dig it out..."

She let go of his sleeve, but kept her gaze locked on him.

"Seriously lass. This is a bar. Not a hospital. Even if you don't want the police involved, you need proper medical care."

"No!" she repeated in a strained but firm voice. "Shoulder - just remove that shit. Please."

Despite the absurdity of her obvious delusion, something about her desperate plea felt genuine. Al wasn't prone to believe in conspiracies, but this girl was clearly convinced that she was in danger from the authorities. And regardless of whether she was delusional or not, a panic attack was the last thing she needed in her weakened state. Judging from her pallor she had lost a significant amount of blood. Fugitive from the law or not, her life could be in jeopardy.

Thus Al decided to take a look at her wound himself before calling for help. Partly in the hope that he might be able talk some sense into the crazy girl after accommodating her wish.

With a little assistance from the girl herself, he managed to get her out of her bloody jacket and onto a table. Now that she was wearing only jeans and a white sleeveless top, he was struck by how skinny she was. Her richly tattooed arms were hardly thicker than the muscle and bones inside them, and when he turned her onto her stomach, he could literally feel her ribs through the thin fabric. But malnutrition wasn't the most pressing issue right there and then.

"Sorry, but I need to cut your shirt," he warned her.

She nodded weakly.

A single glance at the wound told Al all he needed to know. The girl had evidently been shot and the bullet was lodged in her shoulder, more specifically the posterior superior glenoid. As he began the process of extracting it, she emitted a small yelp and mercifully passed out.

******

The girl, now dressed in one of Al's old shirts several sizes too large for her, devoured her burger with a voraciousness that belied her skinny frame.

"Want another?" Al inquired with some astonishment.

"Ain't got no money."

"Never mind that lass. Nobody ever buys these greasy things anyway. Freshly made gourmet fast food is all people want these days. You can have as many as you like on the house."

He grabbed another prefab burger from the freezer and popped it in the microwave.

"Names Meiread," she said between bites. "Call me Mei. Not Lassie. I ain't no dog."

"Nice to meet you Mei. I'm Al. And I'm also very curious about what happened. How did you end up outside my door with a gunshot wound? And what kind of bullet was that anyway? I've never seen anything like it before. It has weird engravings on it and..."

"Why didn't ya freak?" she interrupted him. "Or is surgery with kitchen utensils what ya do around here?"

Al couldn't help smiling at her obvious attempt at changing the subject.

"Fortunately no. You're the first patient I have ever treated in my bar. But I am actually a doctor, so I'm no stranger to treating wounds, albeit with more suitable equipment. Talking about which, you seriously need proper care ..."

"Fuck that." Mei injected while flexing her shoulder. "I feel fine."

"And you should definitely report this incident to the police."

"Fuck that even harder!" she stated firmly and took another bite.

"So what's a doctor doing in a bar anyway? How come ya ain't out golfing and banging nurses and shit?"

Al couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"You don't exactly hold the medical profession is high regard, eh? Anyway, I'm retired."

"Retired?" Mei looked surprised. "That's early. Ya can't be much over fifty."

"I'm forty four," he corrected her a little hurt. "And if you must know, I retired for health reasons. Broke down from stress basically. Turned out that the job wasn't for me. Trust me, working in a hospital isn't nearly as cool in real life as it is made out to look on TV."

Al honestly didn't know why he was explaining himself to this strange girl, but it wasn't like he had ever made a secret of his situation. The regulars knew, and and Jessica too of course, though she had never seemed interested in talking about his problems. So why not spill the beans to this stranger? He had nothing to hide or be ashamed of.

"Ya downgraded from doctor to bartender? Bet she loved that." Mei pointed at his hand with the wedding band.

"I don't know what you are implying, but Jess was supportive of my decision of course," Al said defensively.

"Yeah right! And I'm Kim fucking Kardashian."

He was starting to get annoyed with her flippant and sarcastic attitude.

"You don't know anything about me Mei. Maybe you should refrain from judging others."

"I know about bitches," she stated defiantly. "Scoring a doctor and having him swapped for a bartender? Like going from a bottle of wine to a can of stale beer."

"You have a very cynical outlook on life Mei. Not everybody share such dour values y'know."

"Bullshit! Saw the PI report in ya desk, when I woke up. She's totally fucking around on ya."

"You what?" Al almost shouted. "You had no right to rummage through my office. I put you in there to recover. It wasn't an invitation poke your nose into my private business."

"Hey, don't blow a gasket doc. I was looking for food, ok? I ain't no spy. Did read the file though. Pretty straight forward, if yer ask me. She's totally fucking some dude and they're working on skinning ya in a divorce. It's all in there, if ya read between the lines."

Al just stared at her with his mouth half open, while Mei continued her cold and objective assessment of his marriage.

"This lodger ya took in last year - John Whogivesashit - is the one fucking her, guaranteed. Yer PI may not have caught 'em in the act, but he's definitely fucking her. Betcha. Why the fuck did ya let some rando dirt bag set up camp inside yer house anyway? Pretty dumb, if ya ask me."

"We have a spare room and needed the extra money. Besides he is not a random person. Jess and I knew him in high school."

"I see. An old high school buddy, eh?" Mei asked through her third burger. "Yer old buddy or an old buddy of yer wife? I'm guessing option two. An who first suggested that the bastich move in?"

He didn't reply. There was no need to. She was right on the money.

"Lissen doc. Ya clearly haven't gotten any since dinos walked the Earth. I can smell it on ya like cheap Cologne. And if ya ain't fucking the bitch, somebody else totally is. Betcha anything it's him."

Al slumped into a chair across from Mei, suddenly feeling old and tired again. How did his life turn out like this? How does one go from an ambitious young man in medical school to a middle aged loser in a shady bar receiving relationship coaching from a street girl? Somehow he'd managed to take all the wrong turns in life.

She looked at him with an expression of slight concern.

"C'mon doc. Ya seem like a nice and forgiving guy, but bitch is clearly cucking ya big time. Either put yer foot down or kick her dumb cunt to the curb."

"If you must know, everything we own is in her name," Al said quietly while doing his best to avoid the analytical gaze of those clear green eyes. "The house and the bar and everything. If we divorce, I'll lose it all except for a little cash I've managed to put aside over the last few months. In fact, I don't even know why I bothered with that private investigator in the first place. This is a no-fault state, y'know. The law is entirely on her side. She can drop the hammer on me whenever she wants. To be honest, I don't understand why she hasn't done it yet."

"Fuck the law. Fuck the house. Fuck the bar. Ya pride as a man's what counts. Not all that material shit."

Al burst out laughing in the face of her simple and youthful view on life.

"Oh Mei. How old are you? Twenty? Twenty five maybe?"

"A helluva lot older than ya probably think", she injected drily without getting specific.

"Well, just wait till you reach my age. You will view things very differently, I assure you. It is much too late for me to start over. If I lose the bar, I lose my livelihood. And if I lose the house too, I will eventually end up destitute. Without being able to use my degree I have nothing else Mei."

"Bullshit!", she declared firmly. "Defeat is a choice. All ya gotta do is man the fuck up!"

Again Al couldn't help smiling in the face of her straightforward enthusiasm.

"I wish the world was that simple, Mei. I really do. But when you are up against the system itself, there is no winning scenario."

"Bullshit!", she repeated. "Fuck the system, and kill the bitch. Problem solved."

"Mei!" he exclaimed. "Are you mad? Don't even say such a thing!"

She regarded him in silence for a few seconds seemingly considering something. Then she appeared to come to a decision.

"I'll do it, no prob. I owe ya a solid anyway. Say the word and bitch is gone. No trace."

A chill ran down Al's spine. For some reason he didn't for one second doubt that this scrawny girl was both capable and willing to do exactly what she said.

"Lets drop this entire conversation. You can't just go around murdering people who get in your way," he said, forcing the shiver out of his voice.

"Why not?"

"Because you just can't, ok?" he tried with a little more force. "Because it's not right Mei."

Mei wrinkled an eyebrow.

"If ya really feel that way, then what's that gun doing in yer pocket?"

Al fished out his revolver and placed it on the table with a metallic clonk.

"Strictly for self defense. Every bar in the city has a weapon placed somewhere in convenient reach in case of trouble. So far I've never had to use it, thank god. I only had it in my pocket now because a stranger knocked on my door in the middle of the night."

"Ok then," Mei acknowledged with a slightly smug expression." But didn't ya just say that yer life will be over, if bitch takes all yer precious stuff? Then logically killing her is totally self defense. I mean, surely ya are allowed to defend yer life, right?"

"That's not at all the same..." Al began, but stopped. Then he sighed and went on in a lower voice. "Listen, I see your logic Mei, but you are still wrong. This is a question of morals too. There are things that you just don't do. For no other reason than because you just don't do them."

"Like killing bitches?" she asked rhetorically.

"Like killing bitches," he confirmed.

Mei didn't look entirely convinced, but seemed to accept his position for the time being. Al was relieved. He never wanted Jessica dead. There was a time long ago when they were happy together, and in some small way he still loved her despite everything that had happened.

"At least ya can do it too though, right?" Mei inquired catching his attention again.

"Eh, what do you mean?"

"Fuck around of course. If bitch's allowed to get herself some, ya totally are too. Only fair."

Mei rose slowly from her chair with cat-like fluidity and made her way to his side of the table. He felt her slim hands on his shoulders, starting to massage the weariness out of them. It felt good, but wrong.

"Whoa! Wait a minute there Mei," he admonished her. "You don't have to do anything like this. I did not help you for the sake of getting into your pants."

"I know," she whispered next to his ear. "And that's exactly why yer gonna ."

She kept kneading his shoulders despite his protests.

"Relax doc. Ya haven't fucked for ages, and I haven't fucked for ages. We're both horny as hell, so lets fucking do something about it, ok?"

"Or maybe yer wife is right? Maybe ya really are a slack jawed limp dick who deserve to get cucked."

That last remark made Al sit up straight, mouth agape.

"Eh, what? What did you just say?"

Mei let go of his shoulders and danced away from the table as if moving to some music only she could hear. She continued talking without looking directly at him.

"Some guys are practically asking for it, ya know. Some guys simply can't handle a real woman, so a better man must move in to pick up the slack."

Al felt himself filling with a surge of rage and rose slowly, his voice shaking with fury.

"You'd better shut up right now or I'll..."

"Or ya'll do what, cuck-boy?" she interrupted mockingly and undid her jeans.

The pants dropped and revealed a small orange triangle of hair framed by a set of thin freckled legs. Mei looked him straight in the eyes and touched herself enticingly.

"Better forget it doc. Ya wouldn't know what to do with one of these anyway. That's why she's dumping yer cuck ass for something better, ain't it?"

For the first time in ages, maybe for the first time ever, Al completely lost his temper. With a voracity that would have surprised even himself if he'd had a clear thought in his head he grabbed hold of Mei, forced her to the floor and pinned her down. She was giggling like a loon while he wriggled out of his pants and freed an iron-hard erection.

Without hesitation he pushed himself inside her and started rage-fucking like a madman. Which in that moment may not have been far from the truth. He was definitely acting crazy, and with each thrust he kept cursing, almost as if he'd forgotten all about where he was and who he was with.

"Take this, you fucking bitch... and this... and this..."

Under Al's relentless onslaught Mei was clearly enjoying her role as a bitch to the fullest. Her thin body was shaking with orgasm after orgasm while she alternately clawed at his back and the floor. Though if he noticed any pain from his streaked back, he paid it no attention and kept fucking her hard and deep like a jackhammer on jet fuel.

However even rage-filled passion has a limit.

Gradually Al's cursing became more labored and turned into a series of rhythmic inaudible growls as his endurance started to run out. Right before reaching the proverbial point of no return, a bit of clarity seemed to wash over him, and he made a move to pull out.

Mei was having none of it however.

"Don't ya dare," she growled and wrapped her arms and legs around him with that uncanny strength of hers.

He felt the familiar warmth spread in his abdomen, and with a final yell plunged his cock all the way inside. As he started pumping his load into Mei, she was clinging on to him like a rock in a storm, mewling in the throes of her own pleasure.

******

After separating their sweaty bodies they remained on the floor basking in the afterglow. Initially Al felt very embarrassed and started apologizing for his lack of decorum and consideration for her wounded shoulder, but Mei shushed him with a finger on his lips.

"Shut the fuck up doc! What ya sorry for? Fucking the shit out of a needy bitch? Making me cum so hard I can hardly move? Besides I kinda provoked ya there, didn't I?"

She rolled over and rested her head on his chest.

"So how do ya feel now? Manly pride restored?" she inquired teasingly.

Al couldn't help smiling. This girl was definitely more plugged-in than she was letting on.

"I feel pretty good, thanks. Great even. Maybe you should consider a career as a sex therapist Mei."