Legal Stuff:

Sonic the Hedgehog and all related characters are copyrighted to Service and Games (Sega of America/Japan), DIC entertainment and Archie Comics. David and Joanna are copyrighted to *me*, Stephen Zacharus -- if, for some odd reason, you wish to use these characters in your own stories, fine with me, but I hope you'd be decent enough to ask my permission beforehand. You can reach me at szacharus@hotmail.com.

This work is protected under copyright law. The author grants his permission for free, unaltered distribution of this work. Any other use is prohibited, and will put you in violation of Title 17 of the US Code regarding Copyright restrictions. Blah blah blah.



FOREWORD

Ah, that sinking feeling of beginning a new project. "The Art of Love" is the prologue of sorts to a Sonic the Hedgehog serial that I've been composing -- entitled "Aspects of a New Republic." Basically, the series is comprised of five installments, each entailing different characters in widely different situations several years post-rebellion. Each installment is a story in of itself, connected to the others only by the setting of New Mobotropolis (so, in other words, the series doesn't have to be read in any particular order for you to understand what's going on). I hope you enjoy it.

"The Art of Love" is a short introduction to New Mobotropolis and the dramatic changes that have come about since the downfall of Robotnik's empire; the light-hearted presentation of the piece proved, for me, to be a refreshing change from my recent onslaught of exceptionally dark material (i.e. "Night" and "Forbidden Games"). Don't get too fond of the style, though; the second installment of "Aspects of a New Republic" -- entitled "Of Handcuffs and Blindfolds" -- will cover some edgy, adult themes with a bit of a wicked zest. But more on that later ;).

Um. Well, what more to say? Nothing, I suppose. Just email me with any feedback whatsoever (szacharus@hotmail.com), and enjoy the story!

--SJZ







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Stephen Zacharus
THE ART OF LOVE

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A stroke of paint. Another. And another. Each stroke was delicate and precise and singular. Each stroke had a purpose.

A thin, deep touch of green. A shade of red -- smooth and exact.

Thus, a rose was born.

David stepped back from the canvas to critique his work. Surprisingly, he seemed satisfied enough with it as it was. The painting was honest and expressive -- almost perfect with its imperfections. He liked it.

"It's beautiful, David," a female voice whispered. He promptly felt his mate, Joanna, give him a tight hug from behind, kissing him on the cheek. "You never cease to amaze me, you know. Maybe you should try a self-portrait. That way I'd be able to fall in love with that handsome face of yours all over again." Joanna gave a little laugh -- that soft, dancing laugh that invited David to marry the feline to begin with.

Joining his mate's laughter, the young, virile canine reached behind him to draw her into his arms. "You really flatter me too much, Joanna."

"I can't help it. You're too perfect."

"No," he said simply, kissing her nose. "I fell in love with *your* perfection. Remember?"

Joanna snickered. "That's right, isn't it? The Goddess has nothing on *me*." The feline purred lazily, nuzzling David's chest. "I'm so tired, though, David. What time is it?"

David looked up to the clock on the wall. "Aw, it's only 11:00. The night's still young."

"Only when I'm awake."

"You're such a bore," he teased playfully. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Just shut up and kiss me, silly."

"If you insist."

The kiss was long and full. Passionate. Breathtaking. At that moment there was no question in David's mind as to why they had married. It felt so right...

Joanna gently parted from him and stood up. "I think I've found my second wind; I'm gonna go play on my pottery wheel."

"Sure thing. Want some wine?"

"Of course. Not too much, though -- I still need to keep my senses."

"Fair enough." David watched his mate slink into an adjacent room of the apartment; that long, sexy tail of hers hypnotized him, lightly brushing against the furniture as she walked, caressing the doorway as she disappeared into her gallery.

Quietly, David made his way to the kitchen. *Their* kitchen. He chuckled slightly to himself, thinking back to the days of the Rebellion and Robotnik's rule. Kitchens were a rarity at best in the Freedom Camps that populated Mobius, and even then they were little more than a rack of spices and some pots of boiling water. He never thought of the day that he'd have a *real* kitchen all to himself.

He stopped for a moment, reminiscing. How long ago had the Rebellion ended? Three, four years? It seemed like decades ago. New Mobotropolis had been built swiftly and efficiently upon the ruins of Robotropolis, and a new republic was immediately put into order. Princess Sally Acorn proved to be a very capable leader, indeed -- every ounce the leader that her beloved father was so long ago.

It had only been a few months post-rebellion when David and Joanna had decided to get married. Afterwards they wasted no time in establishing themselves in society -- and, since each of them was an artist of some kind, they found it relatively easy to put their talents to good use. Joanna's pottery helped satiate the demand for dishes and cookware for the thousands of new homes that had been constructed in the capitol city. David's trade proved quite lucrative as well; art galleries were popping up all over New Mobotropolis, and they were more than happy to showcase and auction-off his paintings. Between the two of them, David and Joanna made enough money to get a lovely apartment in the heart of the city. They were successful and happy. It was practically paradise.

Slowly shifting back into the present, David found the wine bottle and a couple of glasses and proceeded to Joanna's personal gallery. To his surprise, her pottery wheel was alone and unused. He looked up to see Joanna sitting in her favorite spot -- on the ledge to the wide, picture-frame window that overlooked New Mobotropolis. She was staring out the window with glassy eyes, knees drawn to her chin, ears drooping a little.

David poured some wine into one of the glasses and handed it to her. "Hey, baby. Is something wrong?"

Joanna took the glass, her eyes locked on the nighttime cityscape. "No. I'm just thinking, that's all."

"About what?" David asked gently, sitting down beside her.

"About life. About *our* lives. Look out there. It's beautiful isn't it? The city. It's like it never went away. I still can't believe that so many years were wasted on that fucking war. So many lives lost... Goddess, it was such a waste. Damn Robotnik and his empire."

David touched her shoulder warmly, reassuringly. "It's over now. We're starting anew, Joanna. It's a rare opportunity -- to leave our past behind and begin new lives. We're *happy* now, Joanna. Aren't we?"

Joanna was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry, David. I guess I've just been overwhelmed lately. You're too good to me." A faint smile suddenly crept onto her face. "You know how it drives me wild when you wear those."

David raised an eyebrow. "Wear what?"

"Your art scrubs."

David smiled, surprised that Joanna didn't say something about it earlier. He always threw on his art scrubs before he started a project -- a pair of ragged, paint splattered jeans and some beat-up tennis shoes without socks. No shirt. He knew she loved it.

Joanna sighed, still staring out the window; she set her wine glass down on the floor. "It's just that everything is so... perfect. It's been a long time since we've known a life like this. I can hardly remember it. I don't think I know how to handle it."

"We'll adjust. We've already been doing a hell of a job."

"I know, David." Her voice sounded small and insecure. "I know."

It was then -- suddenly, forcefully -- that Joanna leaped onto her mate, embracing him tightly and eternally. Her kiss was cat-style, tongue warm and soft upon David's lips. He returned the embrace as they rolled off the window sill and onto the hardwood floor of Joanna's gallery. It was all happening so fast... another kiss, and another. He felt Joanna's fingers combing through his bristly, silver fur as she pressed her body against his. David lay on his back and held her close.

"To the republic," Joanna whispered.

David looked deeply into her eyes. "Long live New Mobotropolis."

And then, in the latest of countless episodes since they were married, David and Joanna made love.