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Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad

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Myssmo had wandered off again. Srafen rippled rher fur in annoyance. What was the point of having a pretty female assistant to hand rher test tubes and tell rher how brilliant rhe was if the pretty female assistant couldn't be bothered to stay in one place?

She'd probably gone out to ogle Law again, Srafen thought with fond exasperation. Fine, then. Srafen wasn't above fetching things from the supply closet rherself if need be. For all rhe knew, rhe'd get more done without Myssmo there to be, ah, distracting.

(Myssmo was rather good at that. Even Srafen, despite rher age, had noticed it.)

Srafen thought, perhaps, rhe ought to have expected to find the missing Myssmo entangled with Law in the supply closet. The only surprising bit about it was that there wasn't a pretty little surmale entangled with them.

“Please,” Law whispered, “don't tell my parents.”

“Young lamm,” Srafen replied, fur arranged in an expression of good-humored irony, “do you really think the two of you are the only ones who've ever fornicated in couples?”