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Blanche and Artemis stood on the sidewalk, looking at the complex of run-down warehouses before them. Artemis sighed heavily and peered down at her friend. "Are you sure about this, Blanche?" she asked, her voice heavy with doubt. "It’s in pretty bad shape. The buildings will fall down around our ears." She turned back to look at the recently-acquired property again as a chilly breeze blew trash against her scaly legs.

Blanche pulled her gaze away from the buildings in question to smile warmly at her unique business partner. "I told you I’d get you outta that horrible cage, and I did," she pointed out, her Southern accent drawing out her words, lending them a lazy confidence. "I told you I’d find a way for you to earn a livin’ doin’ somethin’ you enjoy, and I have. Now I’m tellin’ you this place is perfect, and it is. The buildin’s are structurally sound – they’re just ugly. Little paint, little landscapin’, and we’ll have one of the best-lookin’ places in town." Blanche patted her friend’s side encouragingly. "You gotta learn to trust me, darlin’." A subtle murmur reached her ears, and the snowy feline glanced casually over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of a small crowd forming in front of the tenements across the street from the warehouses. Blanche chuckled softly to herself, amused by the effect Artemis had on most furs – curiosity and a touch of fear.

Blanche returned her attention to the buildings, mentally planning which structures would be renovated first. Artemis stepped forward and clawed at the barren ground, wondering what sort of landscaping could be done with dirt the consistency of concrete. She flicked aside a couple of used syringes with a moue of disgust. "How can anyone live like this?" Blanche was prevented from replying by the purring roar of a well-tuned engine coming down the street. A 1932 Rolls Royce Silver Phaeton pulled to a stop and a huge ursine in spotless livery emerged to help his passenger from the car. A sleek weasel stepped out of the vehicle, her fashionable yellow suit in sharp contrast to the dingy street.

The weasel picked her way daintily across the street to join the other two fems. "It’s rather… industrial," she said diplomatically. Her gaze wandered dubiously over the warehouses, noting the trash lying about between the buildings.

Blanche laughed. "Now Helen, I know it doesn’t look like much right now, but think of the potential." The weasel just shook her head. "Oh, where are my manners?" she smiled. "Helen, this is my partner, Artemis. Artemis, this is our attorney, Helen Waite." Having performed the introductions, Blanche stepped back to gauge Helen’s reaction.

Artemis watched the lawyer warily. Helen managed to maintain the mildly interested expression she habitually wore in court as she examined the being before her. Golden, slit-pupilled eyes watched her every move as she studied the reptilian head dominated by a mouthful of extremely sharp teeth. The head was mounted on a long, serpentine neck that led to a powerful body and long, muscular tail. The whole was covered in sturdy orange scales, shading from a pale sunrise hue along her spine to burnt orange covering her belly. Short, sturdy legs tipped with wicked-looking talons supported her fifteen-foot length, and vast orange bat-like wings lay folded across her back. Helen took a deep breath and returned her focus to Artemis’ face. "When Blanche said you were unique," she said, eyes a bit wide, "she didn’t say how unique." Helen glanced along the powerful length of what she had always considered a mythical creature. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Artemis, and I must say that I am glad I am working for you." She smiled charmingly. "I believe you would be quite an intimidating opponent."

Artemis relaxed a bit and smiled herself. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Helen." She cocked an eyeridge. "From what Blanche has told me about you, I’m quite glad you’re on our team. I may be somewhat overwhelming, physically," she grinned, "but I understand you are the most devious corporate attorney in the country. I would not want to try to get around you in court."

Blanche sagged a bit from relief, glad her best friend and her partner had come to terms so quickly. "So, Helen," she said, waving a hand at the warehouses, "tell us what we need to get this thing going."

* * * * *

Helen began to chuckle as she walked into the Florida room and spotted the huge black and purple tent pitched on the rolling lawn behind Blanche’s house. "Circus in town?" she asked with a grin.

"Hardly," Blanche replied with a slight grimace. "Havin’ a fifteen-foot-long partner requires a bit of ingenuity in the housin’ department." She led the way outside and into the tent where Artemis lounged on a pile of multicolored pillows. Waving Helen to the table set up in front of the dragon, Blanche headed for a smaller table with a large urn and several cups. "Coffee?"

"Please," the weasel replied, setting her briefcase on the table and taking a seat with a sigh. Accepting a steaming cup from Blanche, she opened her case and began removing papers. "Which do you want first, the good news or the bad news?"

Blanche glanced at Artemis for a moment. "The good news, please. Might make the rest more palatable."

Helen nodded and opened the top folder. "The good news is that The Idea Factory is now officially incorporated. Officers are as follows: Artemis Drake, president; Blanche du Chat, vice-president; W.P. George, secretary." She looked up at the dragon. "I didn’t realize you had a last name."

Artemis shrugged a bit. "I don’t. Artemis isn’t my real first name, either, I don’t think. It’s just what the scientists called me. Blanche seemed to think a last name was needed, and Smith or Jones just didn’t sound right."

The attorney blinked a bit, wondering what scientists she was referring to, then returned her attention to the incorporation forms. "Who is this George person? I see a signature, and it looks vaguely familiar, but…"

Blanche laughed. "Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten your favorite roommate, Helen."

Helen’s eyes opened wide. "Wil?! You made Wil George an officer in your company? Have you finally lost what little sanity you had?!" Blanche just grinned as the weasel shook her head in dismay. "How did you manage to get her signature?"

"It wasn’t easy, believe me," she chuckled, still grinning widely. "I had to wade through the Clydesdale Weight Lifting Team to get to her. Same old Wil." Blanche winked wickedly. "She assures me that their muscles aren’t their biggest attraction." Helen blushed under her fur as Artemis looked on, confused. "It’s okay, darlin’," she continued, trying to reassure her attorney. "Wil promised she wouldn’t take a bit of interest in the company unless we come up with an improvement on Viagra or the Fountain of Youth. She’ll be fine. Promise."

Helen sighed and handed copies of the papers to Blanche. "On your head, lady." Putting her copies back in her briefcase, Helen took a swallow of coffee and stared moodily into her cup.

Sitting back in her chair, Blanche reached over and patted Helen on the shoulder. "So now the bad news. How bad is it?"

Helen set her cup down and rubbed her face with her paws. She looked up at Artemis, then over at Blanche, frustration written on her features. "One for, six against. Again. This time, they said they didn’t think this was an appropriate business for that area." She slammed her fist on the table, nearly spilling her coffee. "I think all our brilliant manuvering in the past has caught up with us."

Artemis stretched her neck to peer at the discouraged attorney. "Let me see if I understand this," she began quietly. "The city council has voted against us again, almost unanimously. We can’t get started until they vote for us, unanimously. This requirement of total agreement came about at the same meeting where we were turned down the first time." She pulled herself out of the cushions and began to pace, her voice and velocity rising with each statement. "We submitted our plans the first time, and were given a list of revisions. We made the changes, and a few more they didn’t ask for, just to show our good intentions. They rejected them again, quoting obscure codes that haven’t been enforced in decades. We made more changes. The property and plans have been inspected at least three times by every petty little bureaucrat with a clipboard in this entire godsforsaken state. We have complied with every idiotic, inane request they have made. We have met every ridiculous requirement! We have more safety features planned than a nuclear plant! Now they say our business is inappropriate for that area! I suppose if we were opening a liquor store, or a pawn shop, or one of those places with all the naked dancers they would approve right away! I have been cooped up in this stupid tent twiddling my talons for five entire weeks and I am sick and tired of just sitting around!! You two are supposed to be the best financial genious and corporate attorney in this entire country and we still are stuck sitting here!!!" She spun around, her head stopping inches from the two fems behind the table. "DO SOMETHING!!!!" she roared.

It took every ounce of her willpower to keep Helen from scrambling under the table in the face of the raging dragon. Blanche swallowed hard. "Calm down, Artie," she said, her voice trembling slightly. Blanche had never seen Artemis quite this angry, even at her former captors. "Look, we’ve tried everythin’ we can, legally."

Artemis pulled back slightly and growled, "So there’s nothing we can do. They win." She flopped back on the cushions in defeat.

Helen straightened her suit, giving her a chance to get her panicked breathing back under control. She glanced at Blanche, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. "She said ‘legally,’ Artemis." The attorney pulled a cell phone and a little black book from her briefcase. Blanche stood and headed for the tent entrance to get her own phone and Rolodex. "Now," she continued, a grim smile stretching her muzzle, "we try a bit of friendly persuasion."

Artemis looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Listen and learn, darlin’." Blanche paused at the entrance, an evil grin displaying her fangs. "We ain’t licked yet."

* * * * *

Three hours and an urn of coffee later, Blanche set her phone down with a satisfied smirk. "That’s five," she announced, standing and stretching from her fingertips to her toes.

Artemis stared at the two fems, shock and disbelief warring with admiration on her face. "You call that friendly persuasion?" she asked, eyeridges raised. "I’d hate to see you two get unfriendly."

Helen chuckled tiredly and leaned back, her fingers laced behind her head. "Of course it was friendly," she said, smiling. "We never raised our voices, and we only threatened to send their minor naughtiness to the press. We could have been much nastier."

The dragon thought about that for a moment. "Makes me very glad you two are on my side in this," she said finally. "What about the one who’s always voted for us? Can we count on her not to change her vote?"

Cat and weasel looked at each other with identical expressions of disgust. "Oh, don’t worry about her." Blanche waved a paw in the air in dismissal, looking like she’d just bitten into a rotten lemon. "She’d vote yea even if we were openin’ a whorehouse caterin’ to pedophiles, as long as it was run by fems. Women like that give feminism a bad name."

Helen nodded in agreement. "Webster’s going to be a problem, though. He’s the exact opposite." Artemis looked confused again, so Helen elaborated. "He’s a fundamentalist Christian. Believes fems are inferior and belong at home raising kits and keeping house. He’s against any sort of woman-run enterprise. And he’s clean." She shook her head tiredly, then noticed the dragon still seemed lost. "There’s nothing we can use to ‘encourage’ him," she explained. "He’s faithfully married, doesn’t drink or do drugs, no financial shenanigans, nothing."

Artemis rested her head on her forefeet, eyes closed. Blanche and Helen began gathering their notes and tidying up the table. Eyes still closed, the dragon murmured softly, almost to herself, "So we can’t use fear of exposure…" Blanche paused in her cleaning efforts and nudged Helen, cocking her head toward her partner. The feline had seen Artemis like this once before, when contemplating an unorthodox solution to a problem, though that time it had been increasing the torque of a motor. Artemis peered at the others through slitted eyes. "But there are other types of fear…"

* * * * *

Blanche and Helen almost danced into the huge tent after the council meeting, each carrying a magnum of champagne. "We did it!" Blanche shouted, bouncing around in a small circle. "Seven for, none against, the contractors start in the morning!" She dug out a huge balloon snifter, popped the cork on one of the bottles, and filled it almost to the brim with sparkling wine. She handed it to the drake with a grin, then turned to accept a normal-sized glass from her beaming attorney.

"To The Idea Factory!" Helen announced, lifting her own glass in a toast. The three fems drained their glasses, then giggled, all of them giddy with relief. The two smaller furs collapsed into the cushions with Artemis and refilled their glasses. "I do wonder," Helen mused thoughtfully, "what made Webster change his mind. I was certain he would block us again."

Artemis drank down her second glass and grinned toothily. "Just took a little friendly persuasion."