My Bladed Brother.

"I'm going to kill him. I swear to god, I'm going to kill him."

I stared up at the face of David W.K, my honorary brother and parkour partner in crime. He came to see the show yesterday, and when the show was over, I came out and saw him waiting there, and I literally pitched myself onto him in a squealing hug. Ever since he had moved to university in Hamilton, I hardly ever saw him. I had missed him, more than I could possibly imagine. So obviously, we had to catch up. And, obviously, he found out about.... you know.

"David, please don't." I whispered. He stared at me with his soft brown eyes. His dark brown hair hung in his face, brushing past his forehead. It had grown rather long in the past few months.

"Okay. Okay, I won't. But, Vixen," He took my hand in his, his pale as marble, well worked hards cupped around my tan one. "I want you to know this isn't your fault. And I think maybe for the next little while, you ought to lay off the romance." He pointed a slender, almost elven finger at his temple. "Just until this is sorted out." I nodded, swallowing tears. He pulled me into a hug. He gave great hugs.

I also had mentioned the idea of me joining the senior football team next year.

"....Tony thinks I might actually get raped." I added, as that opinion had been expressed to me by Tony, a senior who was a 200+ lbs. offensive lineman on the team this season. David smiled.

"Go for it. You could totally do it. As for the 'rape', I'll talk to my friend. We'll get you a KA-BAR. No, better yet, a switchblade."

I grinned at the thought of me owning a switchblade. I'd have one of those garters on the thigh and keep it there. Like a female Shark from West Side Story.

Vixen, the blade-wielding, football playing, ass kicking babe.

I like the sound of that.

-V.