Star Crossed [an old and terrible Star Fox fanfic]

C2 - Hungry Heart

It was with this smooth acquisition of a flyer's license that Fox started his tenure at the Academy. Falco got his with an equal amount of effort, coming natural to him. It was strongly advised to practice on the simulator at least half a year in advance... yet the both of them grew up with it as their favorite pastime. It was set in their heads, like the alphabet, or a touchscreen.

Fox used the latter of these innate technologies as he texted his avian friend, later that afternoon. "All set up and licensed," he typed, sending a snippet of his license photo. "And I even look good in the pic."

"Nice, hotshot," Falco typed back. He sent his own. "Same here. Think we can pick up some chicks with them?"

"Why, are we gonna go someplace to do that?" Fox asked in his reply.

"Just grab a bite at the grill, nothing too crazy," the bird replied.

"Sounds good, meet ya there tonight," the vulpine sighed as he set his phone away. He wondered if Falco was serious... he was always quite the ladies' man beneath the feathery surface, after all, and he said before that he'd like to see the Academy crowd.

• • ● • •

Fox walked through the doors of the nearby bar and grill, instantly attracting attention. Bill Grey, the young bulldog sitting in front of the TV, looked over, and opened his eyes. "McCloud! Hey!" he beckoned, his mood almost completely changing.

"Hey, Bill!" Fox chuckled, sitting over by him. "How's it going?"

"Awesome, man. Got the license," Bill smiled, flashing his card.

"Nice, and same here," Fox stated, patting his pocket softly.

Falco shortly followed, but was blocked by the arm of an officer at the door. "Uh-uh... through the back entrance, bird," this taller canine directed. "And make sure to sit at a designated table."

"Bullshit," the bird furrowed his brows.

"Sorry, it's the law," the dog shrugged, pointing. The blue bird walked around to the back, and sat down at a table in a dimly lit back room of the establishment. Drinks came at a lesser pace through there, handed out by servers, and meals were slow to come.

"Stuck here again," Falco sent a captioned selfie. "Thought I could sneak by."

"Dammit," Fox groaned. "They put him in the segregated seats again."

"Well," Bill softly barked, setting his glass down after a swig. "That's just how it is, I guess. Can't tell General Pepper what to do."

"Dad always tried to talk him out of the whole 'OTHER' thing," Fox huffed in reply.

"...You know, it's always weird to hear someone call James McCloud their father," Bill chuckled. "Even when I know it's from you."

"Yeah, I guess he's just that famous," Fox shrugged.

"So are you!" Bill borked in reply.

"As if," the fox rolled his eyes... but was then led up by his arm, with Bill gripping it as he walked around the bar.

"Hey, you know who this is, right?" the bulldog inquired everyone.

"Fox McCloud," softly said all the other customers, in their conversing manner.

"Alright, alright, I get it," Fox chortled, blushing with embarrassment.

"You're kind of a celebrity, dude," Bill laughed.

"And my best friend is sitting in another room," Fox added with a sigh.

Falco meanwhile looked up, hearing a restaurant employee come to him... and gasped a bit. "Hey," he said.