Para-Ice Cream Social

The rest of the week was strangely nice and quiet, if Amy ignored the news.

Sonic’s image had joined the media rigmarole, joining near constant coverage of KLS’ allegations towards Starphar and speculation on the identity of the Martyr of the River. Sonic took the sudden scrutiny with his signature couldn’t care less. Amy envied him his aggressive nonchalance.

For reasons Amy didn’t understand, media outlets had decided to use Sonic’s senior yearbook photo of all things to represent him. He hadn’t really changed his look since then, so it wasn’t a bad choice, to be honest. The man himself didn’t seem to mind at all, though their neighbors had started giving them strange looks.

What would eventually cause some trouble, surely, was the growing curiosity about how connected to current events Sonic seemed.

His name was on the Prower Report, after all.

And did you see those photos of him at the Harvest Festival rut riot? He probably was awfully close to the Martyr. Maybe he even saw them?

And rumor was he had history with current Mayoral Candidate Geoffrey St. John! No for real! What were the odds, right?

Wasn’t that suspicious? It can’t be a coincidence that one guy just happened to be involved with so many different events, right? It’s almost like this guy has some sort of agenda, some sort of grudge against Geoffrey St. John! We’re just asking questions here. Exercising our freedom of speech…

Yes, the week had been nice and peaceful…as long as Amy stayed miles away from the news.

Sonic, ignorant or ignoring his new notoriety, reported that the slew of lawsuits had ground work to a halt at KLS and Prower Labs. A squad of court injunctions ahead of official proceeding tied everyone down in red tape, much to everyone’s frustration, especially Shadow’s.

I knew this would happen.

Hang in there ☹

The grounds of irreparable harm and public interest incense me greatly.

But Starline is who is hurting Omegas!

Exactly. The irony holds no amusement for me given how many people could be suffering right now.

“That’s why we got to keep our little unofficial investigation on the down low.” Sonic explained one night. “Everything’s all gucked up with legal bullshit back at the lab and at KLS, but you, me, and everyone we can rope in can do whatever we want as private citizens!”

Amy clutched her ‘You’re Picture Perfect mug to her chest, letting the heat permeate her sternum and, hopefully, her frazzled heart. “Could this really work?” Life wasn’t a Saturday morning cartoon…

Sonic shrugged. “Beats sitting around with our thumbs up our asses for months while nothing is done to stop Starline.”

Amy couldn’t argue with that logic. “So, we’re going behind Dr. Prower and Shadow’s back?”

“What? No!” Sonic scoffed. “I mean, tell Shadow if you want, I really don’t give a fuck there, but I already told Dr. Prower everything.” He brandished his phone, “He’s who I was emailing the other night about those drugs you found.” A bashful smile morphed his face. “I really should have spellchecked that email though, come to think of it. Basically had to repeat myself all the way the next morning. Then I had to sit through this whole thing about how dangerous rooting around in strange warehouses could be and blah, blah, blah.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t a fan.” Amy could just imagine how onboard Shadow would be with the idea of her playing junior sleuth with Sonic. The dark hedgehog would probably pull the whole boat into dry dock with his teeth. His teeth, you say? Amy shook her head.

“Naw, not even a little.” Sonic shrugged.

“Well, I guess that’s it then.”

Sonic blew a raspberry. “Hardly. I told him what I was going to do, he told me not to do it. Now he shouldn’t be surprised when we show up with unassailable evidence of Starline’s wrongdoing!” He pumped his fist.

Amy laughed. “You are ridiculous!”

“If doing the right thing is ridiculous, then I don’t want to be diculous.” He smiled. “So how is it going on your end.”

Amy shrank, her ears tilting back, and gave him a placating smile. “Slowly?” Truth be told, other than scheduling a meet up with Liam the next week, she hadn’t mustered the courage to message Vector or Orion about Sonic’s crazy plan.

On top of that, Amy would have to find some time the coming weekend to tell Shadow, too, and endure his reaction. Amy suspected she was in for more than just a lecture on safety…Or she could just not tell Shadow…Shit, shit, no more lying! When was this dishonest reflex going to abate?

Sonic gave her an unimpressed look.

“Friday!” Amy explained. “I’ll have time on Friday, I promise!”

Then Friday rolled around.

Amy had the entirety of the day free from obligation, save for ending it at Shadow’s ahead of the garden party the next day. He’d not wanted her to come over since Monday because the whole place was ‘unsightly’ with vendors setting up for the party. Amy didn’t mind a mess, but she wasn’t going to argue over something so trivial.

It was probably for the best she didn’t stay at Shadows, especially not when she now had Sonic’s private investigation added to her list of responsibilities and kicking the can about telling Shadow had become her favorite sport. She hadn’t seen him since Monday even though she’d been to his offices for numerous follow-up medical appointments.

Instead, they talked every evening until Shadow trailed off, clearly falling asleep on the other side of the line. He couldn’t seem to kick the fatigue that had gripped him. Amy listened to his even breathing and even fell asleep to the soothing sound a few times herself. Thank goodness for unlimited cellphone plans, holy shit.

During daylight hours, the pair had been texting constantly. Mostly small, inconsequential messages, mostly to let the other know they’d been thinking about them. Avoiding the pressing issues in their lives was a boon, allowing them to be the quiet corner for each other, a small distraction or respite from the constant stress.

Amy turned the exchange into a way for them to get to know each other better.

What is your favorite meal of the day?

Mine is breakfast! 🥞

I don’t have any preference.

What is your favorite color?

Red

u?

I’m partial to red as well, but pink has been growing on me recently.

Pink is pretty awesome ;D

Where is your favorite place in all the world?

Mine’s this lake my family would visit all the time when I was growing up.

It’s nice you enjoyed spending time with your family.

My favorite place is my sister’s rose garden. I maintain it myself, with some assistance.

That sounds nice. Can I see it??

I would love nothing more than to show it to you. However, it is not in bloom given the season.

The upcoming garden party was starting to make Amy nervous. She had no idea what to expect or what to wear or really any idea about anything. But she would be there with Shadow and hopefully a repeat of the party she went to with Barry wasn’t about to befall her.

I’m nervous about meeting your mother. What is she like?

Evil.

LOL, be serious

I am being gravely serious.

Hell is freezing over for want of their Queen.

Amy had laughed at that. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised that Shadow had a poor relationship with his mother. She bristled at her own mother’s overbearing protectiveness and that was a large part of the reason why she’d moved to the City.

I shall have the privilege to see you later?

Yes! I’m looking forward to it!

As I am. This week has been difficult.

I’m sorry.

I don’t accept unqualified apologies. You may take it back.

Tough luck, that sorry is yours now.

Amy looked forward to spending the night with Shadow at his home with especial eagerness. The last time had been a little truncated by Shadow’s exhaustion and Amy had, once again, missed her promised viewing of his bedroom. Well, third time is the charm, as they say!

Her face heated every time she thought about it, blushing like some vestal virgin! And she was very much not a virgin! Or…was she?

Amy had never had sex outside of her heat. Until Shadow blew her god-damned mind, she’d exclusively been with Sonic…if you could call what they did to treat her heats being together at all.

Her new policy of absolute honesty included herself and, in truth, Amy didn’t really care what Shadow’s bedroom looked like. That was just an excuse, a metaphor for what she really wanted: to have sex, like real sex, with Shadow.

Free of her body’s monthly intoxication, she wanted to run her bare claws through the forest of white on his chest, feel Shadow’s body on hers, and know the thurm of his heart when he wasn’t an alpha servicing his an omega. Heat sex always felt less intimate to Amy, like some phantom audience loomed over them, judging their fecundity.

Basically, Amy wanted to have Beta sex with Shadow.

The silly, awkward kind.

The deep, passionate kind.

The fun, spontaneous kind.

Sex for fun, basically, like she’d seen her whole life in romcoms and romance novels and scandals plastered over social media.

Amy wanted to have bad sex with Shadow.

And boring sex with Shadow.

And unsatisfying sex with Shadow.

Just…just all the kinds of sex with Shadow.

As long as it was her making the decision (assuming he was in the mood too, of course) and not her biological imperative, Amy wanted to have every variety of sex under the sun and the moon. Every which way, a-at least once. There were t-things like kinks, right? Did she…did she have any of t-those? D-did Sh-shadow?

Oh god, was this what feeling pent up felt like? W-why was she thinking about all this? Because Shadow was five seconds from his rut, you dumb broad. She had work to do!

S-so, Amy didn’t really care how much of a bitch Shadow’s mother was. She’d dealt with snobby rich ladies plenty in her job as a freelance photographer. How bad could Mrs. Kintobor be? And when everything was said and done, she’d be alone with Shadow. As far as she knew, neither of them had anything to do on Sunday…so they might as well do each other?

Her face heated, but a small sly smile bending her lips, Amy put her laptop to work fixing the tsunami of photos she’d taken of Rouge that week and definitely didn’t think about Shadow’s ass, like, at all!

By midmorning, Amy had reached a good time to take a break from her photo editing. She made herself a cup of Mrs. Vanilla’s tea (for relaxing the packet read) and settled back onto the couch.

She turned on the TV to make some background noise and there he was. Amy smiled softly at the screen, wherein Shadow was being interviewed by a journalist who even Amy recognized on Breeze Media News. She watched him for a bit as he answered questions regarding KLS’ Starphar allegations.

He seemed so confident and cold. Indominable, like an impossibly tall mountain, unscalable, unconquerable. Nothing like the man who fumbled for words to say to her or smiled and wagged his tail when she merely hugged him.

Amy wished she could be like that sometimes, able to hide her emotions and face the world with a stoic grace. Instead, her heart enjoyed the breeze from her sleeve. She never had any walls or thick shell. That’s why Amy had run and hidden from the world. Her skin too thin. Her belly too soft.

Enjoying the sound of Shadow’s voice, she turned back to her laptop. Right before shifting to her photo editing software, she spotted an email notification. She opened it without much thought.

Amy frowned at her screen.

Dear Miss Amy Rose,

I hope this message finds you well and in good health.

It has come to my attention that you have entered into a romantic relationship with a one Mr. Shadow Kintobor. Please consider this message as a formal request for you to dissolve said relationship. Should you choose not to acquiesce to this request, you will experience great personal hardship.

At this time, I am unavailable to discuss this matter further.

Please have a good day,

-Miss Sage Robotnik

Chief Executive Officer

Sage Information Services

“Don’t worry. SIS is always watching.”

Amy’s blood ran cold. Okay. Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK!? Robotnik? As in ROCC? The same Robotniks who owns Starline Pharma, released Liam from jail, and employed him? Those Robotniks?

How had this Sage (whoever the hell she was) gotten Amy’s email address? Probably off her Promptagram, Amy, duh. Wait, hold the phone…this was her personal email, not her professional one.

How did this woman get her email address?

Amy closed her eyes. When she opened them, they’d gained an incensed sheen. Who did this lady think she was, telling Amy who to date? Poofing out her cheeks, Amy deleted the email.

Then she immediately thought better of it and dug the file out of her trash bin. If ROCC was behind Starline, one of the Robotniks emailing Amy was probably evidence of harassment or something, right? Sighing at the state of her life, Amy saved the email.

She rubbed her eyes, her interest in work derailed. Maybe now was a good time to finally read all those messages from Orion she’d been ignoring? If she was going to ask for the Omegas Only admin’s help, she should probably read through the thousands and thousands of words in private messages he had been sending her over the past two weeks.

Navigating to the forum, she scrolled up through her private message history to the first big wall of unread text and began reading. Amy quickly frowned. She opened a separate tab where she started Gaggling terms she wasn’t familiar with. Orion had always had an advanced vocabulary he wasn’t afraid to flaunt…but Amy was having special difficulty understanding him.

Rubbing her temples, Amy’s frown deepened. This was…this was uh-oh.

…haven’t evolved in tens of thousands of years, leaving Alpha-gene expression as an obsolete branch of evolution and wholly without merit. It falls to modern society to enact policies on behalf of volksgemeinschaft. Unfortunately, the selfish Alpha-gene has ensconced itself into the upper echelons of society, festering like a malignant, putrid tumor. How many wars would have been avoided if Alphas were kept in their proper place in society (that is to say, nowhere at all)? How many Omegas have died because those creatures’ violent and perverted desires? As you can clearly see…

What in the hell?

Amy scanned the paragraphs and paragraphs of Orion’s messages. There was so much that she didn’t even know where to start. Stuff about chromosomes and pheromones and biological anthropology? Sexual hygiene? What, like douching?

She picked up her steaming mug and wrapped her fingers tightly around it. Okay, so Orion hated Alphas. Amy had known that. to each their own, right? But this…this was…this was more than just concerning.

…flagrant violation of survival of the fittest, in defiance of God and simple sense. It is by the virtue of modernity that violence, aggression, and individual superiority must be devalued, instead giving weight to compassion, cooperation, and collective concern, all key traits of the true pillar of society, the Omega…

Amy did have to admit that she hadn’t heard too many arguments in favor of Omegas. Nearly every voice in her life had told her she was either a brainless whore or a fragile glass sculpture, to be placed on a pedestal and never allowed down. What if neither were true? Hadn’t evolution made Omegas the same way it made Alphas? That meant they had value at least on par, right?

Orion had clearly gone off some sort of deep end, but there might be some bits and pieces that weren’t entirely crackpot nonsense.

…so you must understand the need for separation, at least in the near term. Society as a whole, this population of sheep-like Betas, has to witness the sheer depravity of the degenerate Alpha-gene. Once they see, once they understand, then we will have the political capital to implement the final solution…

Okay, what the FUCK? Never mind. Orion and she were nowhere on the same continent, let alone on the same page. Amy couldn’t believe her eyes. Her stomach turned. Was he…was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? Her heartrate spiked the longer she read.

…can’t wait to show you this brave new world, Rose. You have suffered so much, and why? You have such a perfect soul. It’s unconscionable. It’s grotesque. I know you must feel untold levels of empathy for everyone, even those who have hurt you, but you must understand: that this impulse to understand, and love, and forgive is merely an expression of your superior nature as an Omega. In time, you will understand why this must be done, for the greater good.

What was Amy supposed to do with this? Should she do anything? She could just ignore Orion, right? What could he do other than block her from the OO Forums, right?

Was he dangerous?

…forgive me. I will keep your secret close. No one will learn about the festival riot from me, but I must caution you to be careful, Rose. Someone is manipulating the media, twisting and corrupting facts. Don’t believe anything you see or hear! The Alphas will do anything to maintain their power.

Amy couldn’t breathe. No no no no no! He knew who she was? He knew she was at the riot? How was that possible? She’d been careful to not share personal details. So how?

…must be afraid. I understand you cannot reply. Maybe you don’t understand or maybe you don’t trust me. But you will, in time. Everything will make sense and you will know everything I’ve done was with your best interest at heart. Always remember, I love you, my dearest, lovely Rose.

Holy shit! Holy fuck!

Calm down! She needed to calm down! Her skin crawled as her instincts screamed DANGER at her. Could he see her right now? Did he know where she lived? He had to, right?

Breathe. Calm down. Amy closed her laptop and placed it on the coffee table slowly. Her body vibrated with panic, as if to harmonize with some upper dimension of terror. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

Even though her lungs screamed for oxygen that she desperately needed to RUN BITCH RUN, Amy slowly supplied it with long, shuddering breaths. Her fingers and toes grew cold and tingly, but eventually her heart started to get the message and chill out.

Finally able to hold her mug without dropping it, she took a long drink of cooling tea.

Okay.

She could handle this.

First things first. She needed to screenshot and save the hell out of everything Orion ever sent her in case he ever decided to delete his messages. He controlled the forum, after all. Swallowing thickly and trying her best to ignore the buzzing in her head, Amy reopened her laptop and started archiving every disgusting letter.

A record. A paper trail. She’d been doing the same with all those nasty anonymous Promptagram messages, what was one more folder added to her ‘In case I disappear one day’ archive?

The numbness that always followed an adrenaline-fueled panic began to settle over her. Her glands were shot, but the strange nothingness was preferable from the mindless panic.

Why did she have so many men weirdly fascinated with her? The Devil card sprang to the forefront of her mind. Obsession…but Amy had been positive that had had to be about Shadow…And, also, magic isn’t real! She shook her head frustrated. No one can know the future. No one can change the past.

Shit, Amy needed to tell Sonic about this. Gritting her teeth, she reached for her phone. I have another confession, she typed out. Cripes, she was tired of confessing. She’d left Orion on read for weeks now…maybe bringing Sonic up to speed could wait until next week? God, she felt so tired…this week had been going…well, not great, but at least…okay?

Was it so wrong to want to take just a little break?

No! No more lies!

But was it really a lie if she was going to tell him, just not now? That’s not a lie, really, that’s just a delay. That should be fine, right?

NO!

NO MORE LIES!

Just as she was about to hit send, a knock at her door startled her.

Oh my god, COME ON! What now?

---

Shadow emerged from the basement with a sleek, black ridged firearms case in each hand. His week had been long and extremely taxing, so he looked forward to blowing off some steam, figuratively and literally. He certainly didn’t want to be home, that’s for sure.

Mother’s creatures had infested his estate like bedbugs, twittering about mucking up the place to prepare it for the most unholy of events: her god-blasted garden party. A massive tent complex had been erected on the back lawn, and the ballroom was being done up like a poxy whore in autumnal muted colors. Truck after truck of potted shrubbery and out-of-season-but-still-on-theme flowers arrived and were unloaded, an entire botanical garden complete with both an accompanying gardener and arborist.

He’d lent his home over for large functions before, most recently for that fated fête for Rouge. He would never tell her how grateful he was in retrospect. That it was swarming with strangers did not bother him either – he hosted several events for his company after all. No, the disgust lied solely with the hostess of the affair and, to a lesser extent, her flock of harpy hangers-on.

Irena’s exile was just as absolute as Fathers, but that did not stop her from holding a traditional Avalonia court on occasion. By cover of night, bits and pieces of the disenfranchised landed gentry and sordid elite of his homeland crossed the Drink to bend the knee before their traitor queen. None of his aunts or cousins would be in attendance, however. They could not afford the expense.

Why risk the pilgrimage to visit la dame déshonorée? Because Black had taken what he’d stolen, soaked it in blood, and, by some truly dark magic, turned millions into billions. So many tainted bills flowed forth from his cursed horn of plenty that it allowed everyone who wished it to suddenly become deaf, dumb, and blind to the horrors from which such gold was spun.

And Shadow was complicit. It was by his father’s sins that Shadow funded his attempts at virtue. Indulging his mother’s fancy was nothing really…A rounding error in the account of Shadow’s misdeeds. As with many things, he lacked proper claim to his vitriol.

All that heaviness aside, Shadow was pleased to see that a very loud sign had been erected at each entrance to Maria’s garden, barring any and all entry, as well as the installation of a series of extremely conspicuous security cameras. He would have his pound of flesh, should anyone be foolish enough to trespass.

Only a scant few were worthy to bear witness to his labors to maintain his sister’s legacy, and he was to induct Amy amongst them this weekend, whenever a quiet moment asserted itself. Given, of course, if his luck deign to be present. The bastard had been on holiday much as of late.

Speaking of which, the medication Dr. Quack had been administering destroyed Shadow.

Every night he’d collapsed into a pile, often barely getting his jacket off before face-planting into his bed (this is assuming he had made it up the stairs at all, which had not occurred at least once since his evening on the couch with Amy). To his shame, he’d fallen asleep whilst speaking Amy over the phone as well.

He recovered little of his energy overnight and each morning he was loathed to rise, managing it only be sheer force of will and by a high volume injection of potent coffee into his gullet.

However, the fatigue, the nausea, the headaches, and the legion of other side effects were worth the trouble.

Not once, in the middle of a meeting, did intrusive thoughts of pinning Amy down in a blooming field of lavender, ripping her clothes off, and skewering her with his massive erection until she screamed in pleasure consume his mind.

Not once!

Not once, as he reviewed countless and countless reams of documentation, did fantasies of chasing Amy wildly through a forest on all fours, howling and snarling, until he overtook her, threw her over his shoulder and absconded with her back to his cave to ravish her beyond mortal comprehension invade his thoughts.

Not once!

Every sick sexual fascination that had plagued him relentlessly on Monday had vacated his mind completely. He almost felt like a civilized man, albeit an exhausted and overwrought one. A real boy for once since this whole blasted affair had begun.

His dreams though…well, he really couldn’t be held responsible for the lurid, sweaty affairs his suppressed mind constructed. Disgusting things full of domination and forests of pink quills. And his tongue – oh, his tongue! – danced and cavorted across such sacred territory, he hadn’t nearly the sanity to describe it in words. To even attempt the endeavor was sacrilege.

There may have been…some tension building inside Shadow. This was not a problem, not a large one at least.

He had strategies.

He had palliatives.

Methods.

Practices.

Procedures.

Most importantly, though, Shadow had access to private spaces designed to contain controlled violence. Excessive levels of violence.

«Ready?» Eclipse leaned against the chassis of his yellow Jeep as Shadow exited his front door, leaving the warren of coming villainy to its own devices.

«Rarely have I been as ready for anything in my storied life.» The elder grinned like a fool.

Eclipse smirked, opening the back so Shadow could load his equipment. «Then, my dear brother, let us fuck some shit up.»