Plot summary: Having infiltrated an upper class party Mr. Wolf is intent on gathering information for future thieving sprees. Then a curious occurrence takes place for which he had never planned. A side-story, related to my "About a Boy and a Wolf" series.

The background:
Inspiration persisted and I found myself sketching another story which eventually became the third in these series. I imagined someone as clever as Mr. Wolf would know be able to put up a convincing act even among upper-class people, although he might over-do it if scrutinised.

Wandering into slightly mature territory now (consider this a PG13/T+ rating), although I prefer to keep things alluring and vague rather than blunt.

A curious occurrence

By Agncec, 2022


DISCLAIMER! This work is not affiliated with DreamWorks in any way. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the movie. All events herein are purely fictional and sprung from the writer's imagination. The mirror Earth where the story takes place is different from ours (although there are overlaps), so if you enjoy things “dark and realistic” do not continue reading as you may find it disheartening.

This story plays out approximately five years prior to the events of the movie.


The mansion was a large scale joke.

An overdone palace for shameless boasting and the guests fit the bill!

As the upper class party progressed Mr. Wolf (the famed and feared criminal) noticed with increasing amusement how the effects of alcohol continuously stripped away the veneers of polite sophistication. He'd always had a hard time getting properly intoxicated, a limitation the humans didn't suffer from. His purpose tonight however, was conducting a thorough study of these people. Their manners, lifestyles and (most important) their valuables. The opportunity of having a good time without worrying about his crew was the icing on the cake.

Gaining admittance had been ridiculously easy.

Wolf arrived, wearing a light grey Italian three piece suit over a light blue cotton shirt with silk knot cufflinks. The golden silk tie and twilight-blue handkerchief in his breast pocket served to add a little visual flair. To conceal his true identity he wore tinted glasses and a white Portofino hat. The entrance guards didn't ask many questions despite him not being on the guest list. They simply let him enter while complimenting his dress sense.

Fancy clothing mattered less, though, as the surface mannerisms among even the most well-cultivated elite bled away. Wolf witnessed a rich playboy making inappropriate advances to a slender woman in a lavender blue dress. She ended up throwing her drink straight in his face before stomping off, leaving the drenched man behind gaping gormlessly.

There was something about the woman that intrigued Wolf and he felt sure they had met somewhere, however unlikely. She looked to be around thirty years old and a head shorter than him. Hair red-blond, the complexion pale but fit, her face smooth, well-tended and elusive. Having asked himself whether this was the time and place to pursue such fancies his curiosity eventually won out.

Wolf found her in the art gallery. It was a musty place, its walls overcrowded with old oil paintings and at the far end of the gallery a live band (still in the condition to play) provided a passable jazzy background tune. The woman stood gazing upon a particular piece featuring a stiff royal family posing amid a whirl of colours and brushstrokes.

Stopping at a respectful distance, Wolf put both paws on his hips.

"Masterfully done! I'd say it is from the Rococo period, wouldn't you?"

"Rococo revival of the late 19th century." she answered in a bored voice, not bothering to look his way.

"Ah yes, an easy mistake to make! Quite a charming party isn't it, miss...?"

"That is 'missus', if you please." the woman said, turning her head and shot him a cold glance.

"I beg your pardon." Wolf said politely, bowing. "Let's start over. Quite a charming party isn't it, missus...?"

"Landau. And I think it is rather dull and below average seeing how they let any stray dogs in here."

"Forgive me for saying so but you seem like you could do with some cheering up." Wolf continued, undaunted by her barb. "I am Oliver Poodleton, at your service. May I offer buying you a drink?"

"No, thank you. I will find my refreshments elsewhere."

"What would it take for you to change your mind?"

"A lot more than you have got."

She turned on her heels and departed.

Wolf grinned to himself, eyeing her figure as she joined up with another woman by a wall table. They seemed to be friends and broke into an earnest, low-voiced conversation. He shrugged and resumed evaluating the paintings, unaware the second woman had her eyes on him.

"What did that fancy gentleman over there say to you?" she asked her friend.

"Nothing worth taking note of."

"If I didn't know better I'd say he was trying to catch your attention. Go back and talk to him!"

"Your sense of humour is astounding, Nora."

"Several girls already attempted striking up a conversation and he never showed them any interest whatsoever. I'd love to know what sort of luscious body is hiding under that pretty suit..."

"I hear you are in a perverse mood tonight but must you pour it into my ears?"

"Drop the uptight and unreachable widow act for just one night, can't you? I know you wouldn't have given him the time of day if you weren't interested. Take this and go get him!"

Nora pushed her half empty rum glass into the friend's hand.

"Fine, I will! Anything to keep you from being a nuisance for the remainder of the evening!"

Watching her friend emptying the glass and take off with determined steps, Nora leaned against the wall table smirking. Then she spotted the previously snubbed man casting eager looks her way and decided to make herself scarce.


Meanwhile, Wolf had resumed his amusing witnessing of the never-ending downward spiral when suddenly a voice addressed him.

"A-hem! Mister Poodleton, was it? Pardon my intrusion."

Turning around he found himself facing the lavender dress woman. Her face wore a familiar look of determination but it just didn't jog his memory.

"I apologise for being a bit...curt with you earlier tonight." she said in a polite and even voice. "You caught me at an inopportune time, and if you can find it in you to overlook my past rudeness I would be glad to take up on your offer. If it still stands."

"Madam," Wolf bowed graciously and put a paw to his chest, "I would be delighted!"

Offering his right arm, which she tentatively accepted, they left the art gallery and headed to the bar inside the gathering lounge. After a brief consideration Wolf decided on a rich red wine from Tuscany.

"A fine choice." said the woman. "I am Grace."

"You certainly are!" replied Wolf without irony, handing her the first glass. "May I be so bold and suggest myself being your company for a while?"

Grace Landau inclined her head and tasted the wine before nodding in approval.

"Splendid! May I also propose we go somewhere quieter? The racket in here..."

Arms hooked they exited the large lounge through a pair of open doors which lead to a great terrace with many tables and chairs.

"I have an affinity for this time of the day," Wolf said as they toasted, "when light and darkness struggle who is to dominate the sky. The darkness might win the first round easy, even if it never conquers the stars or the moon, yet in the morning it always loses to the new dawn. That is a reassuring thought, wouldn't you agree?"

"Are you a poet by-chance, mister Poodleton?" Grace asked, her mouth curling.

"Well... I am afraid not. I do appreciate anything beautiful, however. Written words. Star-strewn skies... and..."

"Yes?"

Wolf smiled.

"I would say my present company but wouldn't that be too obvious a truth? I imagine you have been told so all evening."

"Oh, mister Poodleton! Are you trying to make me blush?"

Wolf chuckled and found himself a little overcome by her keen sense of observation and witty come-backs. He felt a strong desire to impress this headstrong female, and to figure out what she would be like when she was more at ease.

"I cannot recall having ever encountered someone radiating such a strong sense of independence and beauty. You seem like quite a person!"

"Do I now?"

"Yes. Beg your pardon for mentioning this, but the way you put that poor excuse for a gentleman off earlier was wonderful to behold. I am surprised he thought to impress you with such lowly manners."

"Oh, don't mention it! He is infamous for being a complete burk no matter whether he is drunk or not. Why he ever got invited I do not know. Perhaps he conned his way past the doorkeepers? It has been known to happen."

She peered up at Wolf, a twinkle of amusement playing in her eyes, emphasising the dropped hint.

"It's that obvious, huh?"

"Let us just say I am surprised by how most people look more at the clothes rather than he who wears them."

"Or SHE who wears them!" Wolf interjected, trying to change the topic. "And I must compliment your dressing choice. It makes you appear absolutely breath-taking!"

"Thank you. You have quite a sharp dress-sense yourself, mister Poodleton. Now, would you mind telling me as to WHY you are here?"

"Ah! Heh, straight to the point, madam? I like that!" Wolf laughed uncomfortably. "To tell you the truth, ah... I am..."

"Hush!" She had put a finger to his lips.

"Uh..." Wolf suddenly felt both hot and flustered. "What are you-?"

"Don't think me a fool, mister Poodleton." She smiled, no doubt pleased to have him pegged at last. "Are you here to try stealing my jewellery, or my heart by-chance?"

"Madam!"

"If that is what you are planning you are going to find one of those tasks considerably harder than the other."

"Why, I would never..."

"Did I not tell you to...HUSH?" she repeated, brushing a finger over the black canine lips.

Wolf felt off-balance. This woman had taken complete advantage of him and he had no idea what her game was!

"I am quite sure you, unlike me, have not given up your REAL name. I like the way it sounds, though. There is a ring to it that speaks to your advantage. Now what will you do, Oliver?"

Coughing, Wolf considered the rapid stream of many possible scenarios and outcomes rushing through his mind. He found himself becoming distracted from the original plan.

"May I suggest," he said slowly, "we seek out a place where we can be by ourselves - and talk." He extended his right paw to her. "Will you join me for a walk? Please?"

"How could I decline when you ask me so gallantly?" Grace replied and accepted the offered hand.

Leaving the noisy mansion and terraces behind they walked across the well-tended lawn as the last sliver of the sun sank into the sea, painting the enormous garden in deep red.

"Word has it the shores here are very beautiful," Wolf said, "and I always enjoy watching the stars appear during the twilight hour."

"I think there MUST be a poet in you, Oliver. Never did I imagine professional thieves speaking so eloquently."

"Ahem!"

"Sorry."

At last they reached the sandy shore only a few yards beyond the lawn. A stone table carved out of a natural rock had been installed there and Wolf set his half-empty wine glass down. Seeing how she had looked past his façade from the get-go he left his tinted glasses there as well.

Grace Landau was holding her wine glass and gazed out over the long peaceful swells, seemingly lost in thoughts, and Wolf could have sworn he saw a shiver passing through her.

"Are you cold, perchance?" he inquired, tilting his head. "Maybe we should head back?"

"I am fine." she replied and turned around, setting down the empty wine glass next to his.

"But your hands look so pale!" Wolf said and took them in his paws. They did indeed feel quite cool to the touch.

"My hands are perfectly fine, thank you."

Although the tone was chilly Wolf knew her voice had fluttered and the hands trembled but she did not pull away from him. He decided to take a dare and move a half-step closer, releasing her left hand while keeping hold of the right. Ever so gently he placed his free paw behind the small of her back.

"Shame there is no moonlight tonight. Still, a dance under the open heavens never goes amiss. Shall we?"

Grace appeared taken by his proposal but when Wolf took the initiating step forward she responded accordingly as he lead her across the moist, hard-packed sand. They danced the common two-steps, turning left and right, and she turned out to be no mean dancer and well-versed in improvisation. The frosty exterior also melted quicker than Wolf could have hoped.

"Will you please share," he asked as they moved with no witnesses except the high-flying sea gulls, "what gave me away?"

"Your incredible fuzzy beard besides?" Grace let out a pearly laugh. "Maybe it was my sixth sense?"

"Ah, the famed female intuition! I must be careful to take it into account in the future."

"Or perhaps it was the fact that you are a tall, mysterious stranger I had never set eyes on before in these high places. Although I do recall reading news articles about a string of well-executed robberies led by a wo-"

"May I inquire," Wolf interrupted and embraced her in the classic sweetheart move, "what it is you do? Professionally."

"I am a lawyer."

"Oh! Well, I wouldn't mind having your card and keep it close at heart."

"BUSINESS lawyer! Sorry Oliver, but I shan't come to your rescue when you muck it up for yourself."

"A shame. I'd love to have you representing me. Not that I ever intend on getting caught in the first place, of course."

"Of course not."

They revolved on the spot, facing one another, feeling the twang of singular chemistry between them.

"Your moves are amazing."

"You aren't half-bad yourself."

"I really hope your husband won't mind." Wolf commented, his thumb digit touching the expensive white gold wedding ring adorning her left hand.

Grace immediately clammed up, her smile withering into icy hostility as she pulled herself free from him. They stood in silence near the damp edge where the swells had reached the furthest.

"Please forgive me, Grace." Wolf said and he meant it. "I didn't mean to be tactless. I just... You're so beautiful, attractive, and...lonely. I can't help asking myself how someone like you could ever..."

"I... I'm afraid I don't understand what you are implying!" Her voice sounded unsteady.

"I think you do. You are hurting! I know I am not a righteous person but won't you tell me, please? I promise I will always listen."

She made a move to turn away but Wolf preceded it, catching Grace with one arm and having her face him. The green-tinted, grey eyes were moist and in them he discerned grief, but also a hunger starving not for more words - only actions. He leaned forward and when she didn't pull back he planted a soft kiss on her trembling lips. A gasp escaped Grace's throat and the next moment she opened up to meet him in earnest.

The stars watched mutely as the two embraced on the deserted shore strip. Her arms clung around his neck while he roamed both paws over the small of her back, until Wolf broke the intimate hold and scoped her up in his arms, carrying her off to find a dark and private spot amidst the lush vegetation.

Their wine glasses, his glasses and her dropped shoulder-bag remained behind. Lingering tokens that something significant had taken place.

Wolf put Grace down on the soft ground, only to be pulled along by two pale hands which began loosening the tie, unbuttoning the waistcoat and shirt, undoing his belt. Her hands were no longer cool but hot and surprisingly skilful, and when they ran across his exposed chest fur, grasping greedily before continuing downwards, Wolf couldn't help but start panting. Shrugging to free himself from the constraining clothes he granted her full access to his upper body. The hat fell off on its own accord and rolled away.

She didn't seem to mind their differences and for a flashing instant Wolf wondered if a union was even possible. Or would she be frightened upon seeing what made his heart-patterned shorts feel unbearably tight? Resolving to let these things unfold by themselves he examined her shapely figure, finding the strange human goose bumps phenomenon fascinating. Her needy moans caused his ears to twitch in pleasure as he lifted her a bit off the ground to aid in the removal of the dress. And when she unveiled the fullness of him at last she did not recoil but continued with increased fervour.

He gasped her name as her arms tightened around his neck, pulling him in.


Later, after the night had quelled the twilight, they drew apart. Wolf was breathing heavily, amazed by the hunger and prowess unleashed within this female. He opened his mouth.

"Please don't talk just yet. Hold me close."

Wrapping both arms around her, Wolf gazed up at the majestic Milky Way doing its slow revolution far above them. The night wind rustled the grass and whispered among the bushes and trees.

"Will you let me see you again?" he asked at last.

"Mm...maybe."

She went quiet as Wolf kept roaming his paws over her fair, bare skin.

"What will you say if I tell you I am a widow?" she said after some silence. "And a mother, and too old for a fine young male, let alone a wolf..."

"Do you mind if I disagree with that final statement?"

"Mmm...no."

None of them spoke for a while and the night sounds reigned, accompanied by the distant swells of the sea.

"Was this your first time?"

"With a non-human? Yes."

"I hope I didn't disappoint?"

"Why do you ask me such silly things?"

"Humour me, please."

"Alright! I think you have a wonderful body and fine manners for a bad-boy beast."

"You flatterer!"

"Even when you were overcome by desire you handled me delicately. I could hear a growl, deep in your chest, yet you fought not to."

"I had to keep the noise down, didn't I?" Wolf chuckled. "Although you straddling and telling me to be a good boy and do you good really tried my instincts."

"But you ARE a good boy. A naughty, good boy." Grace laughed, prodding his wagging tail.

"And you are quite a vixen, yourself! Hope you don't mind me drawing the comparison?" Wolf smiled, cupping her left cheek with his paw.

She closed her eyes.

"It must be tough, being a widowed single mother."

"Yes." she said in a voice so quiet it was barely audible.

"Mind if I ask, how many children?"

"Only one."

"Boy or girl?"

"Boy."

"Young?"

"Teenager."

"And...does he have a name?"

"Why yes, of course he does! Why are you asking so many questions?" She opened her eyes, the guarded expression returning.

"Forgive me." Wolf said softly. "I only want to get to know you a bit better. But it's okay. I won't pry."

He bent down, kissing her forehead. Grace sighed in satisfaction and seemed to enjoy feeling of his snout coming to rest against her cheek.

"Ethan." she said after a period of silence.

"Huh?"

All by a sudden Wolf felt dreadfully awake and a terrible suspicion arose inside his heart.

"That is my son's name."

No, oh no! No-NO-NO it can't be! Wolf's mind raced frantically. It just can't be possible! Oh damn, oh crap!

Yet everything lined up: the familiar face, the mannerisms, the way of speech, the fact Grace was a widowed mom with a teenage son. Attempting to rein the rushing panic he continued rubbing the upper back of Ethan's mother as if all was well. At least she appeared oblivious to the maelstrom boiling inside him.

Hope to heavens I can't get her pregnant! Wolf thought, horror-struck by the ramifications that would entail. I'm sorry, Ethan! Please, never find out your good-for-nothing mentor has made such a mess of things! What the heck should I do now?

He cleared his throat.

"That's a very fine name... For a fine boy."

"What?" Grace looked up, puzzled.

"Um... I mean..." Wolf started panting again, this time from stress. "If he's anything like his mother... I...uh...figure he must be! Right, huh? Heh..."

She stared at him for several long seconds, then relaxed and even laughed.

"Yes, he is. In his fashion. Me being a single mother bothers you, doesn't it Oliver? I understand, although I am of a mind to keep you. You are a free spirit and such responsibilities are not meant for males like you. Still, I shall make certain you won't forget me!"

Grace moved slowly upwards, her face brushing through his chest fur, planting kisses along the way. The panic withstanding, Wolf's nervous panting began changing character.

"Oliver..." she whispered when reaching his face, gazing into the brown canine eyes. "Don't be concerned. I can't have a child again either way."

"S-s-sorry... Uh..." Wolf stuttered, the darkest anxiety cloud going up in smoke and gave room for pity. Such a shame she couldn't have more children, although that was probably his saving grace this night.

Her soft mouth sought his, a sweet scent emanating from her skin and tickling his nostrils. Wolf's breathing became heavier as he brushed his paws over her chest, indulging in the sounds she made.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask but couldn't. About the late husband, Ethan's father. The estranged relationship between a mother and child. Whether this incredible chance encounter would perhaps do her some lasting good, and what long-term effects would it have on himself?

When their mouths locked in an intense kiss Wolf decided not to worry anymore.

No matter what the future held.

~

THE END (for now)

FINAL NOTES:

1) The astute readers might wonder, how come Mr. Wolf did not figure out that he had just met Ethan's mother when hearing her unusual surname? The explanation is quite simple: Ethan and Wolf hadn't known each other for very long when this occurrence took place and Wolf, eager to keep a distance between them, avoided asking such personal questions and Ethan no doubt sensed this and refrained from telling him. Read my parallel works "About a boy and a wolf" for the full background how the two became acquainted.

2) Wolf never asked Miss Tarantula to do a background check on Ethan for the very same reason. Tarantula might have done one anyway of course, in which case she tactfully neglected to tell Wolf what she found out.

3) In this world where humans and anthropomorphic non-humans live side by side, unions between the species are taboo but not unheard of (not even in the upper classes). While there are no known cases of humans and non-humans successfully conceiving, there are rumours claiming the opposite.