Dinner with the Fox Spirit

Spirits, as I was about to discover, had very large appetites. Becki was no exception. The moment the sky outside began to turn gold, she started asking about food.

We were still in the bedroom, but thankfully for my poor heart she’d stopped using me as an oversized pillow.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

I blinked. “Dinner?”

She tilted her head, a touch of annoyance creeping into her voice.
“Yeah. Dinner. Just because I’m a spirit doesn’t mean I don’t eat.”

Something in her tone made me straighten. “All right. Kitchen it is.”

Her face lit up instantly, tail swishing as she scampered after me. Cooking wasn’t the problem - figuring out what to cook was. The college had taught me a hundred recipes, but none of them said what to do when your spirit was a fox girl with human form. All the training had been focused on keeping the handler alive, not the spirit fed.

When I asked her what she wanted, she just flashed me a bright smile and said she wanted my cooking, not the bland college rations. That was simple enough - double the ingredients and pray.

But as I opened the pantry, I realized the list of things I could make was short. Becki leaned over my shoulder unhelpfully, her hair brushing my arm.

“What do you like to eat?” I asked.

Her fangs glimmered as she grinned. “No idea! I’ve never eaten before!”

I blinked. “But… didn’t you say spirits are made when people are promoted?”

She nodded. “That’s one way. Spirits can be born normally too.”

I swallowed. “So… you’ve never taken a physical form before?”

“Nope. This is my first time.”

I shoved the inevitable questions about spirit conception out of my head and turned back to the pantry. “Well, that makes things harder.”

Becki spun in a playful circle, her tail flicking. “Anything’s fine! I’m sure I’ll like whatever you make!”

Her trust left me no choice. My hands moved automatically - years of training kicking in - and soon everything I needed was lined up on the kitchen island. I took a steadying breath, ignoring Becki’s hungry gaze at the uncooked meat, and got to work.

I decided on stir-fry: noodles, bird meat, vegetables, and sauces tossed together. Hard to ruin, and I’d make it the best stir-fry of my life.

Becki watched intently as I chopped. I considered offering her a raw piece - she was a fox spirit - but thought better of it. The vegetables were sliced, the noodles softened, and everything hit the sizzling pan, filling the air with the hiss of oil and the scent of sauce.

“Mmm, that smells nice. Can I taste it?” she asked, leaning closer.

“No,” I said, shaking the pan. “It’ll be done soon.”

She huffed, then fell silent, content to watch. When the food was ready, she still hadn’t moved, eyes tracking my every motion as I plated two servings.

Becki sat across from me at the small wooden table, beyond eager. Before I could say anything, she tore into her meal like a starving wolf. To be fair, it was the first thing she’d ever eaten - but the speed was still impressive.

“Wharmph?” she mumbled through a full mouth.

I twirled my fork through the noodles, half-laughing. “Nothing. You’re just… a quick eater.”

She paused, trying to decide if it was a compliment, then shrugged and dug back in. I found myself smiling as I took a bite. The flavor was rich, better than I’d hoped.

Minutes later her utensils clattered into the empty bowl. She leaned back with a sigh. “Wow. That was amazing.”

“Thank you,” I said softly.

Her ears perked, eyes glimmering. “Hey, do you think I could learn to cook like this?”

A dozen flirty replies crowded my head, but I went with the simplest. “Yeah. I can teach you, if you want.”

My heart thudded as she grinned. “Yes please! I’d love that!”

I let the warmth of her smile linger before steering the conversation. Better to ask while she was in a good mood.

“So, um, Becki…”

“Mhm?”

“Why… why don’t you want to bond?”

The Obereg gem felt heavier in my pocket. Her expression shifted to mischief. “What if I told you I’ll only bond with someone I like?”

My heart flipped. She laughed at my face.

“Relax. I’m teasing. I have my reasons. I just don’t want to be under someone’s control. Simple as that.”

I fumbled for words. “But… isn’t it necessary to suppress your magic?”

“In the long term, yes,” she said lightly. “But in the short term, staying close is enough. Usually.”

Something about the way she said usually made a chill crawl up my spine. “W-what happens if it isn’t?”

Her smile sweetened, almost too sweet. “Then you die, I die, everyone nearby dies.”

I swallowed hard. My hand twitched toward the Obereg, but she sensed it and shook her head.

“Don’t try it. Or do. It’s funny to see your face when it slips.”

She grinned. I let go of the gem with a sigh and began clearing the table.

Night fell, and the issue I’d been dreading rose front and center - the single bed.

The curtains were drawn. We’d both showered - she’d tried to barge in, but I’d locked the door just in time - and now we stood side by side, staring at the queen-sized mattress meant for one.

I gulped. “I-I can sleep somewhere-”

She didn’t let me finish. In one smooth motion she grabbed my waist, pushed me onto the bed, and leaned over me.

“You’re sleeping here. Got it?”

I nodded quickly. Arguing was pointless.

I shuffled under the covers, trying not to glance at the fox girl in her purple nightgown, the edges semi-transparent, doing absolutely nothing to hide her curves.

Then she climbed in beside me, moving on all fours for a moment, regarding me with unreadable eyes before collapsing down. My heart raced as she maneuvered under the blanket, finally resting her head on my chest.

Her hair tickled my arm. She wiggled until she was comfortable, then tilted her head up to meet my gaze with a small smile.

“Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

She angled herself so that only her head touched me, but I knew she could hear my heart hammering. The twinkle in her eyes told me as much. For a moment I considered trying the Obereg again but thought better of it.

It was going to be a long night.