Questions flew like bullets as Willie helped Scott return to the milling crowd. The man of the hour could barely keep his eyes open at this point.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Erin.

Scott's head hung low, a bit of drool dribbling from his lips. Willie shook his head at her. "Dunno. Seems like he's trying to pass out."

Ashton thought quickly and stepped forward. "He's been sick for a few days. Must have overdone it when he chased after that idiot."

Scott sniffed the air suddenly. His eyes fluttered open and he lightly turned his head toward Ashton. He tried to speak, but no words came from his lips. Even the scent of her did not allow him to regain his strength to that level.

"What do we do? Take him to the hospital?" asked Erin.

"No, he probably needs to rest at home for a few more days," said Ashton. She looked to Erin "We'll have to count on you."

"Me? Eh..." Erin's eyes widened and she took on a haunted expression. The horror of such a pronouncement mixed with the opportunities it presented to cause confliction within her heart.

After a brief discussion and a few knowing looks shared between co-workers it was decided that Ashton would take Scott home. The excuse was, of course, that it would be best for her to not be at work that evening if Bradly came back.

No one believed that he would come back that night, or ever. However, people kept their opinions to themselves.

Arrangements were made for a manager to take over for Ashton, and two male team members helped Scott into her truck. In passing, one of the team members brushed too close to Ashton and he received a face full of her hair. He instinctively breathed in deep then stood up perfectly straight, erect as it were.

"Uh, thanks..." said Ashton to the team members. They stepped away, the afflicted one moving much slower than the other. Before she shut the truck door, however, she noticed that Scott's seat-belt wasn't fastened.

Ashton leaned over Scott's lap with the belt-buckle and then fished around for the clasp. Two things happened in that moment. Scott breathed in deeply, his nostrils filled with the scent of her. His eyes fluttered open once more, but his head continued to hang low. The other afflicted team member's eyes widened and then they became practically glued to her lightly wiggling backside while she fiddled with the belt buckle.

He licked his lips then bit the bottom one slightly. A certain hunger began to well up inside of him. His hands rose up then curled into claws even as an expression of absolute greed and lechery arose on his face.

Upon seeing his fellow team member act like a starving pervert, the other guy punched his companion in the arm then harshly whispered, "Dude!"

The afflicted team member blinked slowly then turned to look at his co-worker. "Dude?"

"There! All done," said Ashton lightly. She turned around and nodded to her team members. "Thanks for the help. He's heavier than he looks."

"Yeah, no kidding," said the afflicted team member. "I knew he was gonna be pretty hefty, but he must weigh four hundred pounds or something."

"He's not that heavy. You just need to work on your gains, bruh," said the other team member. He flexed his arm briefly then slapped his bicep twice and winked at the other guy.

"Oh? Weren't you the one grunting and complaining about how he must have eaten an elephant over the weekend?" asked the afflicted team member.

"Don't know what you're talking about, fam." He jerked his thumb toward Scott. "Besides, ol' boy looks like he's actually lost a lot of weight."

"Damn! He used to be heavier? How the hell does he walk to work?" asked the afflicted one. "Or at all..."

"Walk, my butt. Didn't you see him hauling ass earlier?" asked the other guy. "Dude must be a track star under all that cake."

"Yeah.... Why isn't he a pro linebacker player, again?" asked the afflicted team member.

"Hell yeah, fam. He's kinda short for it, but I'm gonna scout him. Make bank as his manager," agreed the other guy. "Rake it in, and not have to do a damn thing but spend it all."

"Nah. He should play hockey. Who'd be able to stop him?" asked the afflicted guy. "Wonder if he can skate?"

"White boys and their damned hockey!" exclaimed the other guy. "He's gonna play in the NFL, and I'm gonna make bank!"

"No son of mine is gonna run around in tights, and get slapped on the ass by other dudes on national television!" cried the afflicted man.

"It's always about what you want! Well, not this time! I'm taking a stand, fam!" cried the other guy.

"Hockey!" exclaimed the afflicted guy.

"Football!" shouted the other guy.

"I want a divorce!" exclaimed the afflicted guy.

"You can't leave me, bitch!" roared the other guy. "We got sixteen kids and a mortgage on our dog!"

"As amusing as this is," replied Ashton with an incredulous laugh, "I should get him home and then head that way myself."

"Right," said the afflicted man as though he had not just had an impromptu domestic dispute in the parking lot.

"You do you, boss lady," said the other one. He flashed her a cheerful smile then gave her a thumbs up. "Get my retirement fund back to the house for some rest."

She laughed again then went around and hopped into the driver's seat. The odd team-bros waved at her like a couple of ridiculous morons, their mouths wide open and slightly askew, as she drove away.

Once she was gone they turned to each other then laughed a little. Somehow, they had killed a few minutes of boredom.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, almost lovingly. Then as one they exclaimed, "UFC!"

"Yeah! If he can fight at all..." said the afflicted guy.

"Hey, you white boys still do good there! It's not football, but he's pretty solid and quick for a big boy..." said the other guy. "Could work, fam."

While dad, and other dad, were busy trying to decide Scott's athletic future for their own benefit, Ashton and her passenger sat at a nearby red light. Her scent perfumed the air, and in the enclosed atmosphere of the truck it began to build up within Scott's system once more. His eyes fluttered now and then as he began to rouse from his semi-conscious state.

By the time they reached his house he was able to unbuckle his seat-belt by himself and roughly climb out of the truck. Ashton slipped his arm over her shoulder, and her arm around his waist. Together, she helped him to drunkenly stagger over to his front door.

The door was locked. While Scott fished in his pocket for the key, something completely expected happened. Someone opened the door.

Sonja looked out from the doorway and saw Scott draped against the body of yet another woman. Ashton saw the incredibly beautiful blond woman in the doorway at the same time. Each of them looked at each other for a moment and then simultaneously asked, "Another one?"

Their voices were loud enough to further rouse Scott. He looked up at Sonja then blinked. The draconic instincts mixed with his general feelings toward her. He blinked slowly then said, "Mine."

"Eh?" asked Ashton in confusion.

Sonja drew back a little when Scott's gaze intensified. "Master... what is—" she began only to have Scott's arm whip itself over Ashton's head then wrap around her waist. He lunged forward and pulled Sonja to him as well.

"Mine..." he said in a low growl, just before he dragged them both into his house. Ashton's confused struggling inadvertently kicked the door shut behind them.

Inside the house, they barely made it into the kitchen proper before Scott stumbled and fell. The three of them went down in a tangled heap. Scott, his consciousness fading fast, did what any proper dragon would do. He drew his golden treasures together and adjusted himself atop his precious hoard.

His head pressed lightly between their breasts he began to relax. However, when Ashton tried to extricate herself, he hissed like a serpent and drew her closer. "Mine..." he whispered.

"So, this is awkward," said Ashton after a moment. Scott nuzzled the back of his head between her breasts then made a strange purring noise reminiscent of a happy kitten.

"It would be less awkward if I knew who you were," said Sonja in a cool tone. She attempted to maintain a straight face even as Scott began to paw at her breasts like a purring cat and started to whisper about his precious and bountiful treasure. It was an effort maintained with great difficulty.

"Same here," said Ashton with a bit of fire in her voice. "I've never seen you before..."

"I can say the same to you," said Sonja.

The girls gazed meaningfully at each other even as Scott's semi-conscious body continued to make himself more comfortable via his precious treasure hoard. An explanation was in order, but neither girl knew what the other might know. Sonja could not speak about her relationship to Scott, since she did not know what he might have told the strange blond woman. Ashton could not speak about her relationship to Scott because she was uncertain of what that was exactly, and she also had her own important secret to keep.

In the end, both of them continued to stare at each other, almost daring the other to speak. Scott soon began to snore lightly, and slept in perfect bliss atop his golden treasures. "Mine..." he whispered softly in his sleep.