Something something my usual statement about shaking off rust because I didn't write for a while something something
This one-shot is meant to be part of a series that's outlined more prominently on Archive of Our Own, but plz know that it's completely readable on its own, too. I mean, in terms of the plot. I don't know if it's readable in terms of actually being any good. But I sure hope it is!
Flowers
YFWE
"Flowers."
Benjamin Clawhauser looked up from his roost at the welcome desk of the Zootopia Police Department's first precinct and cocked his head. His brain was not quite connecting the word that was spoken to him and the voice that said it.
But his mind had not played tricks on him while he let his mind wander waiting for a dispatch from one of their officers in the field or the entrance of a visitor not sure where to head; there was Officer Fangmeyer standing in front of him.
"Flowers," the tiger repeated.
"Eh… wha…?"
Rolling his eyes with a huff, the officer reached across the counter, grasped the cheetah's uniform around his shoulder and began to not-so-gently lead him toward the bullpen. Clawhauser did not protest; his mind briefly wandered to the unmanned front desk, but it had been an uneventful day – surely nothing would happen if he left for a few minutes, right? Think of it as a bathroom break.
To his surprise, Clawhauser was not led into the bullpen, where he initially suspected that "flowers" was code for something in there, perhaps related to one of Chief Bogo's morning addresses, the latest of which having concluded an hour ago.
Instead, Fangmeyer whisked him past the bullpen door and into the hallway that led to much of the rest of the common areas for the precinct's officers – individual offices that weren't Bogo's, locker rooms, the stairs to records and forensics.
He saw the commotion rather quickly: Clawhauser and Fangmeyer's fellow officers, mammals of all shapes and sizes, crowded into a huddled mass of mammals against the entryway to where many of the junior officers' cubicles were set up.
"Here he is," Fangmeyer announced in a volume a few ticks quieter than when he first addressed Clawhauser.
Officer Grizzoli was the first to back away. "Oh! Ben!" exclaimed the wolf, who beckoned him with a quick wave of his arm. "C'mon, you gotta see –"
The huddle around the doorway parted at first, and then it moved instead, edging a bit to the left after realizing that parting alone would not allow for the cheetah's more portly stature. Clawhauser grimaced. He had been eating out less lately, honest. But he understood the dilemma.
He ignored Francine Pennington's whispered complaint about no longer being able to see and edged his face around the frame of the door, finally witnessing the cause for their gathering.
"Y'see?" asked Fangmeyer, adding a triumphant pat on Clawhauser's shoulder before glancing around expectantly at his fellow officers. "I knew it. I knew it all along. See?"
"Nah," Officer Higgins responded, crossing his arms while leaning against the doorframe opposite Clawhauser. "This proves nothin'."
"Of course it does."
"It doesn't, though. And for someone wantin' detective one day, you sure are jumpin' to a whole mess of a conclusion, Fang."
The tiger's dismissive wave of his paw spoke volumes. "Tell him, Ben."
"Well, the flowers weren't there this morning…" started Clawhauser, furrowing his brow. "I did my usual run-through when I got here. Judy and Nick weren't here yet, and that sure wasn't either," he said, motioning at the tall, clear vase full of red geraniums on Judy Hopps' desk.
"They're on Hopps' desk? I thought they were on Wilde's. Again, can't see," Pennington announced.
"I don't know, Francine, blame the bozos who designed this place for havin' such low doorframes. Must be hard not bein' able to look over everyone's shoulder for once," snorted Higgins.
"I do not—"
"Anyway, nah, they're on Hopps'. Wilde sits on the left."
"I thought he sat on the right."
"You would say that, Johnson; you sit on the other side of 'em. We're facin' this way now."
Officer Johnson shook his head, the lion defiantly stomping his paw on the floor. "I know that, ya dolt. Wilde sits on both sides sometimes."
"Why's he need two desks?"
"He's usually over there writin' little things in her notebook or somethin', I dunno. Remember when I told you about that? Goes in and adds sarcastic stuff to her reports, tryin' to make her laugh or mess with her, I guess," Johnson said with a shrug that brushed against his partner, Officer Jackson, who had remained quiet thus far.
"Didn't the chief tell him to cut that out since it might mess up an investigation?" Clawhauser asked, rubbing his forehead pensively.
"Yeah, probably. But when's that ever stopped Wilde?"
"So the flowers are on Hopps' desk," Fangmeyer butted in, steering the conversation back to the original topic at paw. "That much is clear. Right, Higgins?"
The hippo had not uncrossed his arms. "Sure."
"Which means Wilde got them for her. Which means they're dating—"
"Yep, here we go."
"—Which means I win the bet."
"It absolutely does not!" Higgins exclaimed, flailing his arms in the air so profoundly that Johnson had to duck to avoid getting clobbered in the muzzle. "Ben, surely you aren't buyin' this crock."
The cheetah's gaze snapped back and forth between the hippo and the tiger, and he could feel his resolve growing meeker by the second. Still, he swallowed and delivered his verdict.
"Well… look, we all know I'm the biggest fan of—"
"Impartiality," grunted Higgins.
"—of, uh, of… but those flowers could've come from anywhere."
"How many deliveries did ya get this morning at the front desk, Ben?" Fangmeyer asked impatiently.
"None."
"I know, none. We've had no one here this morning who didn't go straight up to the chief's office or who doesn't already work here."
"How the heck do you know that?" came Pennington's query.
"Don't worry about that. Point is, no flower delivery service."
Clawhauser gulped and nodded. "Er… no one I saw, no."
"And what about Wilde and Hopps this morning? They came in together, right?"
"Yeah, 'cause it's Weds—"
"Because it's Wednesday."
"Fangmeyer… you all right, buddy?" Clawhauser docilely offered.
Jackson nodded. "Haven't seen you like this since the Tigers won the championship, Fang. In fact, you might be worse. And your brother was on the team."
"Neither of 'em came in with flowers," continued the tiger, having straightened to his full height outside the doorway, looking down most of his fellow officers, who remained huddled around the door.
"O…k, then how'd they get there?" asked Clawhauser, shaking his head. "If neither of them brought them in…"
"Easy. Wilde snuck them in the back door."
"Seems like a lot of hassle over nothing."
"Disagree. Higgins, pay up."
"Now, hold on just a minute–"
"Guys."
"Not now, Francine," the hippo cut across her. "Fang, you know darn well this is a stretch."
"Well, they came from someone in here, didn't they?" Fangmeyer's eyes blazed with what Clawhauser assumed were dollar signs from the cash he anticipated going home with that evening. "And unless Hopps has another admirer…"
"Guys."
"Cripes, Francine, later. Higgins, tell me, who else is gonna stroll in here with flowers for the bunny cop, hm? It sure ain't her birthday anytime soon, so—"
"Oh, hey, Chief!"
The word shut up both Higgins and Fangmeyer instantly, and it started even Clawhauser, who nearly fell into the doorway before righting himself against the doorframe, eyes wide with surprise.
"Officer Pennington." Chief Bogo's voice somehow lacked even more joviality than normal as he greeted the elephant. "Will you be the one to explain why I can't walk through my own precinct's hallway because half the mammals I employ are clogging it up?"
"W-well..." stuttered the elephant.
"On second thought," the buffalo edged his head around the officer so that he could see the rest, "I think I heard officers Higgins and Fangmeyer most clearly. Which is why I decided to cut my meeting short to see what the fuss was about."
A few moments of silence followed, during which Higgins and Fangmeyer stole minute glances at each other, trying to egg on the other to speak via some sort of completely useless telepathic communication. Finally, the tiger, sighing, spoke: "Sorry, sir. There was a, uh… bug in the office here."
"A bug."
"Yeah, and, y'know, Higgins, he's terrified of 'em, but he saw it first, and I figure he's never gonna get over his fear of 'em if—"
The hippo opened his mouth to rebut the allegation, but he choked down a response once he caught Clawhauser's eye, the cheetah surreptitiously motioning for him to take one for the team.
"Yyyyyeah, uh huh, that's it," Higgins muttered. "All that. Nothin' more."
"And all of you thought it best to come spectate instead of doing your jobs. Jackson, Johnson, I know for a fact you were supposed to be on your way to Savanna Central 15 minutes ago," boomed Bogo.
The tiger and lion slunk away, somehow appearing happy to be removed from the situation despite being reprimanded in front of their peers.
"It's not on any of my stuff, is it?!"
The officers felt a gust of wind at their legs as Judy Hopps zigzagged between them, hurrying into the room.
"I don't see it anymore. Did it… oh!"
She had seen the flowers. Higgins and Fangmeyer glanced at each other; the tiger could not help but offer the smallest of grins aimed at his colleague.
"I'll get the spray. Apparently none of you have ever lived in a bug-infested apartment before." Nick Wilde sighed as he, too, edged between his co-workers on his way to the room.
Clawhauser rolled his eyes. Duh, he thought. Of course. They were up with Bogo for their weekly check-in.
"Oh, hey, Ben," Nick offered a wave as he moved into the room. "There ya are. Was wondering why no one was picking up the dispatch phone."
Gulping, the cheetah zoomed past Fangmeyer, whose shoulders slumped a bit. There went their referee.
"These weren't here this morning, were they?" Whatever worries Judy had about an unwanted critter, real or not, crawling over all her stuff had apparently been forgotten as she leaped onto her chair, eying the geraniums that sat on her desk. "I would've remembered…"
"Well, would ya look at that, Carrots?" the fox said after a long whistle. "Someone's got an admirer."
"I suppose so…" she trailed off, her paws searching the vase for a tag or card. "Doesn't say who they're from."
"Didn't ya say in the paper the other week during your interview that those were your favorite?" he asked, pulling himself up onto his chair and leaning back against it, hindpaws up on the desk. "Whatever they're called?"
"Red geraniums, Nick. Try to keep up."
"I'll never get your fascination with flowers."
"Wilde, paws down," Bogo grumbled as he walked by the doorframe, which suddenly had significantly less mammals crowded around it. "Everyone else, back to work. And if you see a bug, please just kill it. Goodness."
"Sure thing, sir," said Nick, staying completely still.
Without Clawhauser there to pick a potential winner – and with the fox and the rabbit themselves there in plain sight – the other officers began to slowly file back to their respective offices and duties. Higgins and Fangmeyer were the last to leave, the hippo taking one last look inside before giving the tiger a consoling pat on the back and moving on as well. "Maybe next time," he whispered; Fangmeyer could not see his smile, but he knew it was there.
The tiger sighed, heading off in the opposite direction. Despite Bogo's interruption, perhaps his logic was not that sound, he reasoned, as he stalked off toward his office, back to the paperwork he had been dreading all week. After all, Hopps had clearly not brought in the flowers herself, but Wilde did not seem to know anything about them either. He at least would have remembered what they were called, right?
His ears pricked up at a conversation from inside the doorway from which he had just walked. He paused, concentrating hard to pick up the voices.
"—how did you even—"
"—know a guy—"
"—but—"
"—out back—"
Fangmeyer had crept to the edge of the doorway, peering around the corner from the left to confirm that, indeed, the whispers were coming from the fox and rabbit.
And he looked just in time to see Wilde land a short peck of a kiss on Hopps' cheek.
It took everything in his power to not cry out in triumph. The tiger moved his muscular body away from the doorway as quickly as he could without giving up the fact that he had been there, lurking outside.
His fist pump a few steps later was the best he could muster – that stupid hippo's really gotta pay up this time – before he realized, slowly but surely, that he had been the only witness to what he had just seen.
And Wilde, who stuck his head out from around the doorframe, locking eyes with the now-frozen tiger down the hall, confirmed his biggest fear.
"No one's gonna believe you," the fox said with a grin, offering a two-finger salute before heading back inside.
END