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Chapter Text

“Winner!” The announcer shouted into the microphone. “Fox!”

The crowd cheered, some of them more enthusiastically than others, so apparently this show was not my best? I took my bows to the audience, and then went over to the other corner to be seen thanking Henry, my opponent.

This young mammal, a bull moose, shook my hand, as practiced, but didn’t seem very happy about it. There was too much noise from the crowd for any sort of conversation, which is probably why he didn’t say anything, not that it really makes any difference. I’m sure I’ll be hearing about whatever his problem is, sooner or later. Probably thinks I hit him too hard, or something? Well, I’ve got bruises, too.

We waited for the spotlight to turn off, which would leave the ring in relative darkness, so we could make our ways back to the locker rooms. We had already discussed what to do at this point in the match, and he should not have been surprised by the outcome of the fight. We’d practiced it several times.

The light went out, intermission started, and Henry and I heard the crowd noise change as they stopped paying as much attention us. We left the ring, separately, and I let him precede me up the slight incline between two sections of the audience. Once under the bleacher style seats again, he turned left, toward the visitors’ changing area, and I went right, toward my own dressing room.

I nodded to the guard at my private dressing room, opened the door and went in, closing it after myself. Then I sat down on the bench by my wall locker.

Another week, another show done. For me, anyway. The show tonight was not yet over, of course. There would still be a few more fighters, mostly new people trying to get their start in show business. They had to sign a bunch of waivers and were getting a small share of the profits, with bonuses based on their popularity with the crowd.

I wonder how long I can keep wrestling? I’m tired tonight, as usual after a match. No surprise there. The surprise is that I’m still able to do it, having passed 30 years of age. This is a game for younger mammals, not old farts like me! I need to find an understudy, and then go into management or whatever.

“Sir?” I heard and looked toward the entrance. The guard had stuck his head in and was looking in my direction.

I flicked an ear, and he continued. “Got a fan out here. Says they want an autograph, like, and says you know her. You busy?”

“What’s the name?”

The guard’s head disappeared and then reappeared, apparently having talked to whomever it was out there with him.

“Judy the rabbit,” the guard said. Judy had probably only given her first name, and anyone could see what sort of mammal she was.

I sighed, and didn’t bother to get up. “Let her in.”

“Nick?” Judy asked, after she was past the door, now closing behind her. She wasn’t looking directly at me. “I assume you’re decent and able to receive visitors?”

“You can look at me, but maybe you’ll want to hold your nose, and I might ask you to leave in a few minutes. Haven’t had my shower yet, and I’m fairly sure I stink.”

She looked up, meeting my eyes, and cocked her head to the side, ears going out at the same angle. “I can’t tell, from over here. It just smells like any locker room would, I guess.

“You suggested I might watch your show? Well, I did.”

“And?” I asked taking her scent and noting that she apparently did enjoy at least some of it. “What did you think?”

“Well,” she replied, head and ears going back to normal. “Do you really want to know? I mean, I’m sure everyone has an opinion, and some of them-“

“Yes, I want to know,” I replied, interrupting her. Why does everyone have to make this sort of thing complicated? “I’d like to think of you as a friend, you’re here, and I did ask, so, yes, I’d like to know what you thought.”

“Well,” she said, and started counting on one hand. She must have expected this answer, or one like it. “The beer was watered down, the popcorn could have used more butter and salt, and security wouldn’t let me bring my water bottle in.”

“No surprises there,” I replied. “The City alcohol commission won’t let us serve higher alcohol content beer without another special license, and license fee, of course. We’d have to raise prices to do that, and mammals seem to prefer, and expect, cheap beer. We make tons of popcorn every day, so you might have gotten part of the batch with less additions, and someone else may have gotten popcorn with more. It’s the luck of the draw.

Then I thought of something. “Your water bottle. What happened to it?”

“Oh, I came here with a friend. They didn’t really want to watch the show, this being wrestling, not boxing, so they said they’d hold my bottle until the next time I saw them. They had a bottle as well, of course, and didn’t stay for the show.

“What’s wrong with the bottles?” She asked, sounding like she really wanted to know.

“You don’t have crowd events like this on Bunnyborough?” I replied. “There are often dumb dumbs that will throw anything with weight, like bottles, if something like that is available. I’m sure you noticed the beer came in plastic cups that would make terrible projectiles?”

She nodded. “We have events like this. I went to one or two at my college, but I will admit that the crowds were not this large, no mammals hit anything or jumped off of anything, and the seats were more expensive. And, now that I think about it, they served wine,” she said, and trailed off, apparently comparing that experience with this one.

“And the seats were more expensive,” I said, repeating something she said. “Unlike here, most of the attendees were not decked out in t-shirts and shorts?

“And we don’t really hit each other, or not as hard as we try to make it look.”

“Well, yes, I guess that’s true,” she said, looking around for a place to sit. Or anyway, she showed no sign that she might be ready to leave, or end her visit, or whatever.

“OK. How about you either leave the room, or turn around so I can shower?” I said. “If you leave, let’s arrange to meet out front, by the quadruped statue, in say, fifteen minutes?”

“Oh!” She replied, and actually blushed a little. “I”ll leave! See you out front!”

Then she more disappeared out the door, much like a puff of grey smoke up a chimney.

Chapter Text

Twenty minutes, a shower, and a quick text to Finn, later, I was near the statue, looking around. I could smell her scent, so I’m sure she has been here, but apparently wasn’t here now, or wasn’t anywhere in sight anyway. It looked like I was alone, no other mammals close.

“Hey!” I heard, and looked up.

She was up on the statue, seated and waving to me.

“You know you’re not supposed to do that, right?” I pointed out. “There’s a sign to make it official and everything.”

“A couple of hyenas dared me to jump up here,” she replied, and jumped down. “Anyway, if you do go up there, you’ll see half a dozen initials on the spine from those that were there before me. One of those was NPW. Not you, by any chance?”

“If I were to break the rules in that manner, which I never have, I would have been careful not to add incriminating evidence. And it would have been when I was younger and more prone to such foolishness.”

I wonder if she knows my middle name? Probably.

“Afraid to admit it?” She asked, amused.

“No, I’m afraid someone from ZPD might find out, and give me some sort of fine for trespassing,” I replied. “You wouldn’t know anyone on the Force, would you?”

“They would have to actually see you do it, to charge you for it. And you said you didn’t do it.”

I nodded, and started walking. “So, I assume this is a social call?”

She fell into step next to me. “Why not? This is my day off, one of two, actually.”

We passed several mammals I knew, and I nodded to them, and they nodded back to me and then to Judy when she waved. I was glad to see that they didn’t recognize Judy without her blue uniform.

“So, the bottle thing? Do mammals really throw them?” Judy asked.

“Yeah, unfortunately. We’ve had some problems with that, and the insurance company doesn’t like to see that sort of thing because someone might get hurt and then sue us. Our insurance might have to pay, and we can’t operate without insurance, so we usually just do whatever they suggest. In this case, no body can bring any sort of projectiles into the seating area.”

“So, for example, had I been carrying a brick?”

“They would probably have taken it away from you, if they saw it,” I replied.

“Surely no one would do something like that!”

“Bring in a brick? No, but most of the crowd was probably armed, at least with knives, this evening. And their own claws, of course.”

Judy stopped, frozen in her tracks, and so I stopped also, and then turned to face her. We could hear traffic sounds from the road nearby, and see the occasional car. “What?”

“They were armed?” Judy asked, amazed. “What if a fight broke out?”

“We can’t stop them from bringing personal weapons, and keeping them hidden. We’ve tried to suggest something of a neutral zone sort of concept, for the arena, but it’s like the thing with you and your water bottle. What happens to the weapon?

“Security does not want to hold onto several hundred knives and hand guns, and some male mammals would just have to show off and bring even more, or bigger, weapons, knowing that the other mammals, some of which would be female, are going to see them giving up those weapons. We don’t have enough space to give everyone a wall locker and mammals don’t want to leave the weapons in their cars where they might get stolen.”

She did not reply, apparently thinking about it, so I continued.

“On the other hand, did you see anyone get shot or stabbed?” I asked.

“No,” Judy replied. “But someone might have been shot or stabbed. With that many weapons, it’s statistically likely.”

“Oh, of course,” I said. “It happens. We had those dumb dumbs throwing bottles, after all. Security takes care of it, no muss, no fuss.”

“How do they do that?”

“Usually a large mammal or mammals, or larger than the dumb dumbs, anyway, will grab the miscreants, which are normally younger predators showing off to their friends, by their necks and haul them out the door,” I replied.

Many mammals bring their children and they pay to see some sort of family entertainment which might be canceled if trouble broke out. So there isn’t any trouble, or if there is, then some of the larger adults, usually parents themselves, will end it before any one gets hurt.

Judy didn’t answer, no doubt making a mental note to check the crime numbers for the arena. She’ll find the areas nearby, across the street, for example, have higher than usual numbers of minor complaints when security drops someone there. Sometimes that person complains to the ZPD, which never does anything about it, or they complain to our neighborhood watch, which reminds them not to be dumbasses.

“Nick?” Judy said, surprising me with her tone. She made a sort of gesture with her chin when I looked at her. “Nine o’clock. Is that normal?”

I started to say something about what time it was, but then I looked to our left and saw a couple of cars going fast and weaving in and out of traffic. People were not in the way, and this was entirely in the street, so I had not been paying much attention.

“Not very normal, I guess, but not very unusual either. They-“

I stopped, frozen in place with surprise, when I saw what was about to happen.

One of the cars tried to take a turn too fast and lost control. I’m sure they were going for the ‘drift’ effect common in the movies, but that clearly didn’t work this time. The car flipped over and landed on an empty section of sidewalk.

“Call it in!” Judy said, sprinting ahead of me toward the car to see what sort of aid she could render. The car was wolf sized, so she could probably get in through a broken window and check on the occupants at least, but she would probably not be able to move or free them.

I ran to the car, smelling the smoke from the tires and the burned oil that had leaked from the hot engine. The underside of the car wasn’t extremely clean, but I could see it wasn’t on fire. Several pedestrians had stopped to watch, take pictures, and, probably, call the authorities.

“Are you OK?” Judy shouted toward the hole where the driver’s side window had been, and tried to open the door so we could get the driver out if we needed to. I could not hear a response, so I pushed Judy’s paws out of the way, grabbed the door handle, and pulled to see if I might be able to make it move.

“I already tried that,” Judy pointed out, sounding angry. “It’s stuck.”

It did not move, initially, so I braced myself to get a better grip, and pulled harder. This made the handle come off.

“Damnit!” I said, dropping the useless thing as I shifted my grip to the rear pillar of the door.

“Are you OK in there?” Judy shouted again, but there was still no response that I could hear.

I could smell blood, so I yanked the door open, and then twisted it out of the way so Judy and I could get the driver out of the car.

Chapter Text

“Is he going to be OK?” I asked, an hour later, after the driver had been loaded into an ambulance and the car had been turned back over.

I was talking to the Happytown authorities, back on the sidewalk where I had been when Judy and I saw the accident, out of the way.

“He’ll be fine, Nickels. Looks worse than it was, he just hit his head on something when the car turned over. Mild concussion, is the worst of it, I expect.”

Samuel, or Dimes, as he preferred, is the leader of the local neighborhood watch group, or simply, the Watch. They’re mostly wolves, including their leader.

“What happened to the door?” He asked, sounding only mildly interested.

“Probably happened when the car flipped over,” I replied. He grunted, pretending that the matter was closed and that he believed me. His scent told a different story, of course.

“So, you said that you and Judy were walking along the sidewalk, over there, and you saw the car try to turn, fail, and then flip over,” he said, consulting his notes. “Judy rushed toward the car, but you stayed back, on the sidewalk, trying to call for assistance from ZPD, but found the line was busy. You then approached the car, but Judy Hopps already had the driver out and was administering first aide when you got there?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I replied. He grunted, put away his notes, and left .

“Nick?” Judy asked, walking over from where she had been talking to the tow truck driver. The ambulance, with the injured wolf, had left half an hour ago.

As for the ZPD, they had not put in any sort of appearance, nor had the Zootopian Fire Department, ZFD.
As I may have said before, they don’t really come around here, especially after dark, so we just solve problems like this from our own resources. The tow truck was from a local garage, and the injured driver had gone, where else? To Mercy Hospital.

I nodded to Judy. “I understand the driver will probably be fine,” I said, and then gestured in Sam’s general direction. Or where he had gone, anyway. He didn’t bother to stick around, now that he had a chance to go back to his regular job. He’ll file a report tomorrow morning.

“Thank Serendipity,” the rabbit said, scent relieved and body language returning closer to what it had been before the accident.

I said nothing, of course. Mammals react to situations in various ways, and giving thanks to some deity or other was not the most annoying one.

“What would you like to do now?” I asked, and then fell into step next to her as she started walking back toward Wild Times. “Would you like me to call Finn so he can give us a ride? Take you back to your place?”

“No,” she said. “I’d like to keep walking and, at the same time, I’d like to talk about the accident.”

“Oh, well, it’s not all that unusual-“

“You ripped the door off that car, Nick,” she interrupted me.

I thought about various answers, like, ‘that’s not what you saw,’ but then I realized she’s a sort of professional observer, trained to notice various details like that. She might even have written it down in that notebook of hers, or made an audio note with her recorder pen.

“I’ve always been strong,” I said. “How do you think I can be in the ring, and last more than a few seconds, with mammals twice or three times my size? You did notice that Manchas was a panther, right?”

She stopped, so I stopped also, and looked at her. “What?” I asked.

“Was a panther?” She asked, emphasizing the first word.

“Yeah Manchas. Black panther. Much larger than foxes like me.”

“And he went back to Cassandra?” She asked, repeating what I had told her a week ago.

“Yeah. If you check the airlines, you’ll see a ticket with his name on it and you’ll see it was used the day after I talked to him at the hotel.” I said, careful to keep my lips closed when not talking. I don’t need her to hear me subvocalizing.

“And how do you know that?” She asked, but she didn’t sound, or smell, as serious this time, and she had resumed walking. I fell back into step beside her.

“Maybe I talked to him-“

“I understand why you did what you did,” she interrupted me, again. “He was killing kits. I get that he had to be stopped.

“But Delgato was building a case and we would have arrested him if, when, we caught him again.”

“Yeah?” I replied. “And what if I told you those coyotes of his were out hunting the day before you called me to the warehouse the second time?” When I lied to you about what I knew, in other words.

She said nothing, for several steps, and then, “like I said. I understand why you, and that wolf, did it.”

I didn’t reply, but I was tempted to repeat what I said at the statue, earlier this evening. However, vandalism might be something a cop has to see you do, but killing, done by private citizens, is a completely different thing, even if she does say she understands.

We made a somewhat early night of it, with me calling Finn, dropping Judy off at her place, and then I went home to the old asylum. She texted me later to say she had a good time, and wished me good night.

I replied to say I’d like to see her again, careful not to imply I wanted to talk about the same sort of thing any more.

Chapter Text

The next day, I was back at my job in the arena, practicing with Henry. I would like to say it was going well, but I would be lying.

“Ok, tell me why you don’t want to do the move,” I said, hands on hips, glaring up at the moose. He was a ten pointer, not as well endowed, antler wise, as some, but he had more points than others. Certainly, the moose had more going on over his head than any pronghorn I’d seen.

He was being particularly uncooperative this morning.

“It’s demeaning,” he replied.

“It’s entertaining,” I said, and pointed at him, and then around at the arena. “You signed some documents saying you could and would play your part, I’m paying you to play your part, and I own this arena, so-“

“So you can find some other smuck to let you beat on them,” he said, putting his head further down. Most mammals, in this sort of situation, would put their heads back, and try to look larger. Mammals with horns, like this one, typically put their horns closer to any opponent when they want to show belligerence.

“Let me?” I asked. “Oh, I think I see what it’s about. Yesterday, you thought I was being too hard on you?”

“Duh,” he said, and gestured with his arms in, and sneering. “If we were going for real, I would have stomped you into paste.”

“Huh,” I said, and looked around. “I would rather you didn’t.

“But we seem to be alone out here, in the ring. I don’t see anyone watching. Want to try and do that stomping thing?

“However, before you make up your mind, know that if I can’t trust you to do play your part, and not try and hurt me while I’m trying not to hurt you, then you can’t work here, right? It’s part of the agreement that you signed when you were hired.”

He didn’t back down. “Going to call the cops when I beat the crap out of you?” He asked, sounding like ‘gonna call da cops?’

“No,” I replied. I thought about setting myself for a jump, but then I didn’t bother. I know all his tells, from our time in the ring together. He’s going to put his horns further down, pointed at me, and charge.

He charged, I jumped left, and I bounced into the ropes on that side of the ring, and then came back at him, in the air, about his chest level while he was getting re-oriented.

Or, it would have been chest level, if he had not raised his antlers in an apparent effort to impale me. And he was coming right at me, having clearly anticipated me doing something like this with the ropes. I guess I should not be surprised, what with me doing this in the ring so many times.

However, he can’t see me when he does the antlers thing, so he could not react to my counter move, which was to grab his horns to stop myself, above him, and then push his head into the mat with my feet by jumping straight up. He face planted in the mat, and then sort of slid a foot or two, using up his remaining momentum.

I came down on my hands, next to him, careful not to actually ‘finish’ him by coming down on his torso, feet first. If we had planned this, then I would have done the elbow thing, but landed on my side and hip first, and THEN planted my elbow in his belly at far less speed.

“You OK there?” I asked, getting up and being careful to not stand close enough for him to grab my leg.

He got up, slowly, and turned his head toward me. There was hair, but no blood, on the mat where he had landed, and his face had a sort of sand papered look. His eyes were red and he looked ready to chew iron and spit nails.

“Don’t guess you want to talk about it? This sort of thing would make a great-“ I was saying, as he charged, again.

And he put his head down, losing sight of me, again. He was angling down and I was not airborne, this time, so I didn’t dodge as I would have done had he being coming in differently. I planted my feet behind me, grabbed his antlers when he was close enough, and turned my waist to my left, his right, rotating his head as I did so. One of his antlers dug into the mat as he pushed with his rear legs, apparently trying to continue his charge, possibly thinking that, because I was in front of him, then he could simply trample me. He started to fall on his side instead.

I maintained my hold on his antlers, trying to cushion his head so he didn’t break his fool neck. It worked, mostly. He only broke part of one antler when it got caught in the floor matting. I released him, and then stepped back.

This time, when he got up, he didn’t look at me. He just fell back on his hindquarters, resting there a few seconds, and then pushed himself to his feet.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he got out of the ring, and walked toward the locker rooms. I went over to ‘my’ corner, and rummaged through my things, looking for my phone.

I called Finn.

“Dog? Henry got hurt, so please get in touch with the attorneys and set up an appointment.”

“Got it on film?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. This is not the first time this sort of thing happened. “We were practicing a move for next week’s show, and things went a little off script.”

“He said he should win? Something like that?”

“Yeah,” I said, and ended the call.

I waited a few more minutes, and then went to the locker rooms, looking for Henry. His locker was open and empty, and he was gone. No surprise, but now I’ll have to find someone else to be part of the main event fight next week.

I walked around, sniffing the air, making sure I was alone, and then sat down to send some text messages to several mid size mammals I had practiced with before, at one time or another. All the messages were the same: ‘let me know if you want to try out for the headline position next week.’

“Boss?” One of the day time custodial people asked, having seen me walking around, by myself. They were used to seeing me this time of day, but I was typically in the ring.

“Jim?” I asked. “Or do you prefer James now?”

“Uh, Jim, sir,” the wolf replied. He was one of the former kids at the asylum, and I had gotten him this job as a sort of transitional thing while he took some night classes. “There’s ah, someone wants to see you? I suggested he wait in the dining area.”

Right. Because I don’t really have an office here. I have a wall locker and a dressing room, but that’s about it.

“Thanks. This mammal got a name?”

“Coyote. Didn’t give me his name. Dressed well, very formal, somewhat rich looking, but not from around here. Had your name on a card, with a question mark.”

“Thanks,” I said, started walking away, and stopped.

“Did you see Henry?” I asked

“Yes sir. He said, if I saw you, I was to tell you to stick it where the sun don’t shine. He looked like he’d lost a fight.”

“Kind of what I thought he’d say.

“Have a look at the ring, would you? We were working out, and might have damaged the mat.”

“Will I find part of one of his antlers there?” The wolf asked, not really sounding or smelling very concerned.

“Probably.”

Chapter Text

So, I went to the dining area, looking for the coyote. I hope it’s no one related to those bozos that were working for Manchas? I guess I’m going to find out.

The first thing I noticed, of course, is his scent, even before I see him. Subtle, at first, under all the fried food and stale beer smells. He’s healthy, middle aged, and not excited. Waiting for me to show up, apparently. Coming closer, I work at separating scents, and find that he’s alone, and I can see he is indeed wearing what are probably expensive clothes. A fight is therefore very unlikely.

He’s sitting at one of the tables, and doesn’t stand up when he sees me. He says nothing, but he holds up a sort of dry erase board, with the words, ‘Wilie Coyote, Ambassador, Cassandra.’

“Hello,” I said, and stopped a few feet away from his table.

“Willy?” I asked. Like will-ee.

‘WHY-Lee’, he wrote.

He gestures at the seat across from him, erases the board, and starts writing again.

I sit down.

He shows me the board again, and it says, ‘you are Nick Wilde?’

“Right,” I replied. “Sorry. Yes, I am Nickolas Wilde, owner and manager of this establishment.”

‘Do you know why I’m here?’

“Not really, but, I might have a guess or two?” I replied, trying to figure out how much he knows about Manchas’ situation, and how much he doesn’t.

“I had some business dealings with one of your citizens, Manchas the Panther. Some mammals said Manchas was doing, or might be doing, something illegal, so Manchas and I discussed it. He sold me a warehouse, that may have been involved in illegal activities, and then he left the city.”

‘And that was all? You have not heard from him since?’

“Yes,” I replied. “That’s right.”

‘Your scent says only part of that was true.’

“My scent?” I asked. Damn it. I practiced this, working on getting it all just right, and not looking or sounding rehearsed. I guess I got most of it right.

He waited, expecting me to elaborate, so I did.

“Look, Manchas may have been involved with kitnapping, OK?”

The coyote merely cocked his head and didn’t reply for a moment. Then he erased the board and wrote, ‘there was a van, and some rams, according to the police report?’

“Yes, that’s right. I spoke to the rams in jail, but someone killed them. The ZPD identified the driver, a weasel, tracked his movements in Zootopia, and I spoke to him. Then some coyotes attacked me in the Zootopian central park-“

Now he reacted with surprise, but waved for me to continue when I paused. Clearly, he had not known about some of this.

“So ZPD tracked them also, and they met with Mr. Manchas at his hotel in Zootopia, where I visited him last week.”

‘That’s when he sold you the warehouse? And the limo?’

“That’s right,” I replied, letting him smell my relief. “We went and viewed the property and then he sold it to me. It’s not very complicated-“

He held up his sign again. ‘But then Manchas supposedly traveled home by Discount Airlines, having bought a ticket that same day.

‘Did he tell you he was in a hurry to get home?’

“He said,” I replied, being more careful now, as if trying to remember exactly what the panther had said. “He said he was ashamed of the crimes, who ever might have committed them, and he wanted nothing to do with the ware house where some of the victims had been held or the town where they had been stolen. He said he didn’t know what was going on.”

‘Did you know he had a round trip ticket on Animalia Airlines, first class?’

“No,” I replied. When questioned, vigorously, by members of the Watch, Manchas had said there was no round trip ticket. So they got his credit card number and bought him a new, one way, ticket, so there would be a paper trail. That ticket was then used by another panther, with the same color, gender, and approximate size. But I can’t mention that because I’m not supposed to know details like that.

‘Your scent shifted again,’ Wilie wrote. ‘what happened to Manchas?’

He waited a few seconds for me to reply, shrugged when I said nothing, and then wrote, ‘we found mindicamp holi, the night howler, growing on his land. We know he was using it.

‘If Manchas was still around, we would have picked the two of you up.’

“The two-“ I started to say, and then stopped. But it makes sense. There were others looking into the crimes. We knew about ZPD here, and we knew they were useless, especially with Weaselton in charge. I never even thought about the other end of the pipeline, where the kits were apparently being delivered, in Cassandra.

“I, and some others, put a stop to his activities, here in Zootopia,” I said, and then waited for his reaction. If he jumps up-

But he didn’t. He simply nodded, once, and got up, with no hint of concern. He wrote one last message on his way out, ‘you did the right thing.’

I followed him out, and watched him get into a limo. There were two panthers waiting for him, both armed. They looked at me immediately after I exited the building, and then went back to pretending I didn’t exist, in the manner of body guards everywhere. And then the limo drove away.

Chapter Text

I got a text from Judy, that same evening, while I was still at Wild Times.

‘LET’S DO DINNER?’

I replied with the thumbs up emoji, and she suggested a place that caters to both predator and prey, about 30 minutes from now.

Sounds like fun, but I need to remember rabbits can sometimes hear when you subvocalize, so I need to be careful. She already found out about the Manchas situation when I said the wrong thing, and I don’t want her finding out anything else if I say it under my breath.

She arrived before I did, and got a table.

“What’s up, fox?” She asked, when she saw me. Her ears were up, and her scent was definitely on the happy side.

“Got some work issues going on,” I replied. “How is your job?”

She was not wearing her uniform, of course, but I know how much it means to her, being a cop. She probably changed into civilian clothes in their locker room around the same time she sent me the text.

“Great day at work! I was in the vicinity of a drug bust, and they needed more officers, so I got to participate.”

She deflated a little bit. “Just crowd control, but I was still on the scene! Delgato even thanked me for my assistance, after.”

“Congratulations,” I said, and toasted her with my water glass. Sounds like they don’t plan to simply force her out, or not all of them want that, anyway.

The waitress arrived and we ordered food. Bug burger for me and a salad for her. I guess I could eat more salads? Maybe not here, but there are places that let you make more of a meal out of what would normally just be some greens and some sort of dressing.

She smiled. “So, what is your work issue?”

“Couple of things, really. You saw the moose I was working with last time?”

She nodded, and I continued.

“Well, he quit. Said something about my not fighting fair.”

“Well,” she replied. “You are stronger than most mammals would expect. I saw what you did that car.”

“What I?” Oh, right, she knows about that. “It was just a car. They build those things with more plastic than metal, now.”

“Right,” she said, not sounding like she believed me. “Does Dimes know how strong you are? That Watch wolf?”

“Yeah, he knows,” I said, and then stopped. “He saw me-“

“Saw you what?” She asked, very interested now.

I looked around, trying to be casual about it, and didn’t see anyone paying much attention to us.

I like Judy, and she knows about the Ranger Scout thing, and hasn’t stopped talking to me. That’s good, but not an indication that I can tell her everything.

I took a drink of water, still stalling for time. Judy sat watching me, waiting to see if I would tell her what Dimes saw. Maybe I should change the subject.

“Anyway, enough about that. I also got a visit from the ambassador from Cassandra. He had just left when you texted me.”

“You got a visit from an ambassador? Who do you know from Cassandra?”

The food arrived and we started eating, saving me from saying ‘Manchas,’ or anything similar.

“Well, nobody right now, but I have been there, for work.”

“Oh, right. So you ‘fought’ someone in Cassandra?” She asked, and used her paws to make it clear what she thought about my acting skills.

“Yeah, laugh it up, but mammals pay good money to watch this sort of thing. And they buy watered down beer and cheap popcorn when they do it.

“The way it works, is, I go there and play the villain, the ‘heel’ and then he might come here and do the same thing. Heels have more fun. You can dress up in a ridiculous costume, say ridiculous things, and generally get away with being the bad guy.

“It’s fun,” I concluded, and then I thought of something.

“You’re a pretty good fighter, right?”

“What?” She asked. “I’ve been trained, by ZPD, and I’ve had years and years of various types of martial arts classes. I knew I would have to be able to defend myself from the various mammals that would simply assume a bunny could not do my job.”

“Think you could take me?” I asked, curious to see what sort of answer I would get.
She answered quickly, clearly having thought about it before. Her tone, and scent, were confident, but her words didn’t match. “I don’t know. I saw what you do, in the ring, and I’m not sure I could do it.

“It’s harder than it looks, right?”

“Yeah. We work hard to make it look easy, and practice nearly all the time.

“If you have some time, now, you might come by and try out?”

Now she hesitated, clearly not having thought about this possibility.

“Or some other time?”

Chapter Text

After dinner, we walked back to her place.

We hugged and she went back up to her apartment, as usual. She had seemed a little hesitant, at first, and looked almost like she was going to ask me a question, there on the sidewalk, after the hug, but she didn’t.

I texted Finn, he came to get me, and we went back to the Asylum.

“Kid’s OK?” I asked Martha, after we arrived.

“Diane might want to talk to you,” the raccoon replied, not sounding very concerned.

I nodded. “Let her know I’ll be in my office.”

An hour, and several documents reviewed, later, I was at my desk, in my office, when there was a polite knock on the door.

There stood a young, female, panther.

“Diane?” I said. “Come in?”

She entered my office, and sat in the largest chair, the one for mammals her size. I don’t have an elephants or hippos at the House.

I waited, but she didn’t speak.

“So, how are things? Are you fitting in well?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

I waited again, but again, got nothing.

“If anyone is harassing you-“

“No,” she replied, quickly, but without any sort of ‘yes’ indications.

“You, ah, you wanted to see me?” She asked.

“I heard you wanted to see me, actually,” I replied, and then went back to my interrupted paper work while I waited for her to summon the courage to talk about whatever this was. As for me, I’ve got tax forms, financial forms, various forms for Childrens’ services now that the City is willing to contribute financially, I need to confirm food and beverage numbers for the arena, etc etc. The paperwork never really ends, but at least I have a professional book keeping service for the arena. I just have to confirm their reports.

She didn’t leave, or not yet, and a thought struck me. Was she curious about the mammals that kitnapped her? Or maybe the mammal behind the whole thing, Manchas?

But she didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell. No sense in having too many people know the real story. After an hour, I looked up and did not see her.

The next day, in the morning, found me holding try outs at the area.

My previous calls had turned up half a dozen or so, and some of them had even come with costumes, which I thought was a nice touch.

“Introduce yourself, and step into the ring,” I said, again, inviting the fourth such mammal, a small wolf. The previous three mammals had included two ‘no way’ and one ’maybe’. Number four was one of the ones with a costume, hand made, but not bad.

“I am the Riddler,” the wolf said, and climbed into the ring, somewhat awkwardly.

“Ever done this before?” I asked, not commenting on the number of question marks sewn on his clothes.

He nodded, scent matching his visual agreement. “Grecko Roman stuff in high school.”

“Very good,” I replied. “You know the rules?”

He nodded, having been paying attention when it was discussed with the others. We’re not going to hurt each other. No biting. No ‘for real’ punches, and you can tap out when you give up.

“Ah, I have a, that is, something to say?” He said, looking and smelling uncertain.

“OK?”

“What runs around a city, but never enters it?” He asked.

“Oh,” I replied. “A riddle. Of course. Let me think about it?”

He nodded, and then got down into a sort of crouch, the way I’m fairly sure they teach at the high schools for this sort of thing, and spread his hands.

This being our first bout and the fact that I could tell that he had training, unlike the others, I drove straight into him, as if he didn’t weigh twice what I did, and have far more reach compared to me.

He grinned and met my charge, no doubt expecting to overpower me, despite seeing the others try the same and fail.

We grappled, and he tried to force my hands together, between my chest and him, so that he could then do the standard ‘I’m bigger than you’ strategy of leaning over me and pushing me to my knees by pushing my hands against my chest. This works every time when you are stronger.

Which he was not. His face, and scent, changed by degrees as he realized this.

“How are you doing that?” He asked, unable to even force my hands closer to my body.

“I’ve always been strong,” I replied.

He let go, backing away and shaking his head. I rushed to get behind him while he was distracted, knocking him down by pulling one of his legs out from under him, and then I began to twist that ankle while he tried to crawl away. He tapped the mat, and I let him go.

I offered my paw, and he took it, pulling himself to his feet without additional help.

“Yeah,” he said, “I didn’t believe my eyes, earlier, when you went toe to toe with that other wolf. I thought, he must be terribly out of shape, but it’s more the fact that that you’re terribly in shape!”

I nodded. Riddler wasn’t weak, himself; he was very strong in fact.

“Like a wall,” I said, and smiled.

Chapter Text

Several hours later, and after lunch, the ‘want to be’, and ‘might be’, contestants had all left, and it was just me and Finn.

“What do you think?” Finn asked.

“Got some strong candidates,” I replied, thinking about Riddles.

My cell phone beeped. I had a message from James.

‘FEMALE HERE TO SEE YOU’ it said. ‘FOOD COURT’

Smiling, I headed for the food area, expecting to see Judy. Instead, there was a vaguely familiar arctic fox seated at one of the tables in the middle of the room.

She watched me, head cocked slightly to one side, smiling.

“Skye?” I asked, and then realized I had either forgotten her last name or she never gave it to me. I tried a fairly common fox name. “Woods?”

“Winters,” she replied, trying not to look disappointed. “Don’t you remember me from my visit?”

“Yeah,” I half lied. I mostly remember what else happened that night. I had not given her any thought, probably because there were so many vixens that tried that same sort of thing.

“So, what’s up?” I asked, leaning on the door frame.

She paused, possibly annoyed that I didn’t seem more interested, but then carried on with what she had come to say.

“I’d like to know if, that is, are you busy later? I would like to share a meal.”

I guess she seems to want an actual a date, if she’s being formal and somewhat old fashioned about it. The vixens lead, of course. That’s how we’ve always done it.

“This would be a getting to know each other, sort of thing?” I asked. “Did you have any place in mind?”

“Nothing vegetarian, that’s all. Anything else is fine.” She leaned closer to me, wiggling her hips and letting me get a nose full of aroused scent.

“I’m not really dating right now,” I said, and she interrupted me. “I-

“And the rabbit?” Skye asked, ears going back and voice sounding angry. “You’ve been seen around town with her, on several occasions. Are you going to tell me you’re not dating her?”

“Judy?” I asked. “We’re friends. She helped me out with. That is, with some legal issues I was having.”

I don’t really want to talk about the Manchas situation, especially not with this vixen.

“Legal issues?” She asked, clearly thinking I meant something else entirely. Her ears eased back up to normal. “She’s a cop, you need her help, and don’t want to make an enemy of her at present?

“I suppose I understand.”

She got up, pulled what looked like a business card out of her top, and walked over to me.

“If you change your mind, give me a call,” she said, back to sounding friendly, and put one of her paws on my chest.

I brought up my right paw, covering hers, preparing to grasp her paw. She pulled away from me, and I found that she had given me a card, pressed against my chest. It had her contact information, and her scent.

She walked away, swishing her tail, as I watched.

Well. That’s just. Something?

Chapter Text

Later that day, I got a call from Dimes while Judy and I were at Panny Bread, having our usual dinner. Judy had arrived at Wilde Times not long after Skye left, but apparently didn’t see her. We went to dinner from there.

“I’ve got someone here you need to meet,” Dimes said, not bothering with any sort of ‘hello’, or ‘how have you been’ non-sense.

I looked at Judy and said, “who do you have and why would I want to meet them?”

She perked up, and stopping trying to pretend that she wasn’t listening to the phone conversation.

“Low level drug pusher, distributor, whatever, but he says he can, and will, point to several important mammals that he’s seen doing things they don’t want anyone to know about.” He did not say why this information was offered, but I expect the pusher knew the alternative.

“Mind if I bring a friend?” I asked.

“No one from ZPD, I assume?” The wolf replied.

“She’ll be off duty,” I said, and looked at Judy. My friend, the cop.

Dimes gave me the address and then suggested I hurry. I knew that meant they might kill the guy. At the very least, they were unlawfully detaining him. I did not point any of this out to Judy.

“So, Judy,” I began, unsure how to frame the question. “You heard?”

She nodded.

“And you know why they don’t want ZPD?”

“I know what’s going on. I’ll stay outside, if you like.”

“That would probably be a good idea.”

We jogged to the address, and arrived a few minutes later. It was an old abandoned garage, looking somewhat forlorn in the fading daylight.

Judy put her hand on my arm. “I hear voices inside. They’re questioning someone, and who ever it is, is not having fun.”

“Wait out here?” I asked, and she nodded.

I went in, closing the door behind me, and there was indeed an active interrogation ongoing in one of the interior rooms. Several wolves, including Dimes, had a male deer, a buck, tied to a chair in the middle of that room. The deer looked like he’d been beaten recently, and several points of his antlers were broken off. His clothes were bloody and torn.

“Is this him?” I asked, looking around at the Watch.

Dimes made a gesture, out of sight of the prisoner, and so I knew what my part was going to be. Good cop.

“Jeez, guys, do you have to be so rough? He looks like you’ve been taking out too much of your anger,” I said, and tried to look, if not sympathetic, then at least not as menacing as the others.

“What’s your name?” I asked, putting myself at his eye level.

He spit blood to the side, careful not to get it on me. “Sylvester,” he said. “I didn’t do nothing. I was just standing there and-“

Dimes, moving suddenly, struck the buck in the back of the head, making him apparently try to stick me with his horns as his head came forward. I expected this, so I was easily able to jump back.

“What the fuck, mammal?” I shouted over the prisoner’s head.

Dimes, out of view of the deer, rolled his eyes, knowing what was next.

“You know what?” I continued, apparently angry about what just happened. “Why don’t you and your buddies get the fuck out of here? Go out side and calm down or whatever. I’ll let you know when I need you again.”

So, the wolves left me alone with the deer.

Twenty minutes later, I briefly stuck my head out the door, caught Dimes’ eye, and then closed the door.

Dimes sent a wolf into the room us, and so I was then able to go outside and rejoin Judy and the other wolves. We did not, of course, ever leave any prisoner alone. Who knows what sort of trouble he might cause, unsupervised?

“So? What did you get?” Dimes asked.

“Quite a lot,” I replied. “Did you know he has Weaselton’s phone number? He said they were old college buddies, and keep in touch now to talk about the good old days.”

Dimes snorted, but Judy looked interested.

“The phone number means he can set up a meet, but I’d like us to keep out of the way, at least the first time…”

“Why?” The wolf asked. He wasn’t looking at Judy, but I’m fairly sure he was glad she wasn’t taking a more active role in the planning.

“Because we obviously caught our friend in there, and marked him. Weaselson is going to notice that, and check our friend in there for a wire, or whatever, and he’ll be careful not to incriminate himself. We’ll watch from a distance, and get what we can, long range.”

“And the next time?” He asked.

“We’ll see how it plays out, but I’m thinking we can record that conversation, or maybe the next one.”

Judy, of course, said nothing.

Later, on the way back to her place, Judy asked me what happened inside the garage. She had not seen the deer, and I didn’t tell her the buck’s name or anything about him.

“Nothing much,” I replied. “Just some good cop, bad cop.”

She was quiet a few moments, and then she asked, “did you hurt him?”

“No,” I replied.

Her scent was uncertain, so I added, “I knew we didn’t need to as soon as I saw him.

“When this sort of thing happens, the subject nearly always expects pain, so I don’t give it to them. We just hint that bad things may happen if we don’t get what we want, and then we ask for more and more things, a little at a time.

“At some point, the operation will become self sustaining, after our new friend gets used to his new situation, and figures out that he doesn’t really have a choice anymore.”

I didn’t bother trying to explain the psychology of this sort of thing. Externally applied pain is such a crude motivator, and not always employed or needed. When it IS needed, then you use it, but otherwise, you just sort of hint that you can use it and let them imagine that it’ll be worse than it is. However, not using it every time also means you do have to use it, sometimes, or mammals start thinking you won’t.

I didn’t think I would need to inflict pain on this guy, or not until later. In fact, his own people might take care of cleanup, eventually.

“You’ve done this before?” She asked.

“A few times,” I replied. Probably half a dozen.

“So, he’s going to be a confidential informant, but for the Watch, not the ZPD?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I said, wondering just how much the two groups have in common.

Chapter Text

Some time passed without news from Dimes, so I kind of forgot about the drug dealer stuff. I had my weekly show to prepare for, and then, of course, I had to perform on Friday night. Judy said she would watch again, and then join me in my dressing room, after.

The crowd had liked the Riddler.

I was sitting on the bench nearest my shower when the guard stuck his head in the door. “Rabbit here to see you.”

“If it’s Hopps, send her in,” I said. I didn’t bother to watch the door, but I did keep track of the scents.

“So,” I asked, when I noticed the scent of her fur shampoo. “What did you think?”

“Still not really my idea of fun, but different strokes, I suppose,” she said, coming closer to me, and looking around.

Right, she isn’t sure where to sit? “Pull up a chair, or a bench next to me, I guess.”

She didn’t move. “You don’t need to shower?”

Now I moved my torso, twisting so I could look directly at her.

“I need to shower,” I replied, and then added without thinking. “You can stay if you turn your back.”

I thought she would turn red and run away, but she didn’t.

She sat on the bench, turned away from the showers, and said, “you do remember that I’ve already seen you without your clothes on. At the Oasis.”

“Most of my clothes, yeah,” I said.

“I thought you didn’t care?” She asked. “I mean, I thought you were asking me to leave last time by implying that I could stay only if I turned around, but later I remembered that you showed no hesitation the other time.

“Or did you have some other reason at the Oasis?”

I didn’t reply immediately, and then shrugged, even though she would not see it.

“When in Rome,” I replied, and she nodded, as if that made perfect sense.

I removed my shirt and then realized I had would have to stand very close to Judy because she was on the bench where I normally put my things. There was some space, next to her on the bench, but not much, so that’s where I put my clothes, one item at a time, while watching the back of her head.

I put my boxers on the pile last and then turned on the water, looking away from her, briefly. When I looked back, she was turned slightly, not looking at me, but at my clothes.

“I remember the boxer shorts now,” she said, louder than usual, because of the water.

“They’re very comfortable,” I replied, and then got under the water.

I checked several times to see if she was sneaking a look at me, but if she was, I never caught her at it.

A reporter came to visit. She gave me a rain check when she realized I was not only showering, but also not alone.

Judy and I then took our usual walk, but we didn’t make it back to her place, or not right away.