Task Force 141 was comprised of mostly hybrids, each one of us having special advantages that came about with our hybridism. Of course, with these advantages came one serious pitfall. Heats.

Luckily for us, we get time off for our heats, since they're not synced, we can take time to adjust while someone else fills our spot. Well, most of our heats don't sync. But two do.

Yours and Soaps. You're a cat hybrid, he's a werewolf hybrid, and their mating seasons fall almost perfectly in sync.

You're walking to the cafeteria, looking to get some food when Soap walks over and grabs your arm quite hard, pulling you away, into a secluded hallway, where he confronts you.

"What are you doing? You know it's mating season, you're not supposed to be out of your room." His voice is so deep and husky, your pheromones flooding his senses.