Title: My Furry Little Spitfire

Summary: Girl!Roger detective should have really thought twice before forming an alliance with the mysterious green-eyed thief.

Rhoda Rabbit had always been described as sweet. Even gentle. When she isn't being a klutz. That's why it was such a surprise when she chose to be a detective's partner. Solving cases aren't exactly a trip to the park.

Rhoda paid them no mind. Having a new case in their hands has a way of speeding up her heart. Tracking whodunit brings a light in her eyes. Having justice done? Incredible.

But throughout her career, Rhoda believed that nobody could be that bad.

"I HATE YOOOOUUUU!" she screamed.

But she did have her limits.

The masked man didn't even bother to look up. "Stop struggling, dear. It will just get tighter."

She let another scream of frustration. The more she tried to struggle against the tough, strange wires wrapping her from shoulder to shins, the more it did tightened. It was like a new kind of toon-proof rope.

"I thought you were better than this!" she screamed again.

Was she mad? No, she wasn't mad. She had burned past enraged seconds after she realized the Brutus Act.

She looked around, trying to find something, anything that could at least help her not to make this any worse.

Why did she became a detective again? Edna is going to kill her.

She stopped struggling, trying to find any part of her body that she could still move.

Rhoda as a rookie, was assigned to Edna Valiant, the veteran. Before, she knew Edna thought she's a pest. But they did get past that. And although their bond as partners has grown, Rhoda did kept one tiny thing from her partner: her sort-of-alliance with the man that just betrayed her and was currently betraying her.

She bit her lip. She could still move her ankles… and her fingers. Maybe if he stood close enough, she could at least head bash him like there's no tomorrow.

"Hey!"

The man languidly inspected a jewel before placing it back on the table. His sleek black suit was a contrast to the pale bauta mask that framed emerald eyes. A villain famed by his mysterious appearances at high-security places, striking at the deepest of the night. The Masked Phantom, the newsrags calls him.

For some reason that Rhoda couldn't grasp, the concept of the phantom was popular to women. But that isn't important right now.

A growl rumbled in her throat. There had been many opportunities that she could have taken off his mask. Cuffed him. Report him to the police. But did she do that? No!

The Masked Phantom is wanted for major heists. But in her past investigations, she noticed he only messed with the corrupt… for good. He never hurt anyone. And when confronted, his first move is to escape.

When she told her partner about her observations, Edna simply said, "A criminal's a criminal, rabbit. There's no honor among thieves."

Rhoda always trusted Edna's deductions. Except for the Phantom. In her many investigations with Edna, she had encountered the mysterious humanoid. Behind Edna's back, she had even tended his wounds without lifting his mask, much to his surprise.

That was the start of a strange mutual alliance between the bunny detective and the mysterious masked man. They give each other warnings, leads and sometimes, support. They had even saved each other a couple of times. Rhoda wouldn't have him arrested because she believed he was a vigilante.

It turned out the vigilante is nothing but a common thief.

"You traitor! You broke our deal!"

He finally looked up.

"Deal? I thought we were in a working relationship."

Her brows rose at his last intonation. But righteous anger engulfed confusion at her current situation.

"It's the same thing! I thought you were different!" she nearly spat. All the times they have secretly met to exchange information. All the times they have discreetly worked together. All the times they got each other's backs. In the end, he was earning her trust for the ultimate betrayal!

"Rest assured, detective. There's a good reason why you can't intervene this time."

"Why?!" she demanded. Hot steam snorted out of her nose. Here she was, on the ground, wrapped like a sushi and he was just standing there like he owned the place.

But he just cocked his head, a velvety voice resounding through his mask. "Don't worry your head over it, my furry little spitfire."

That just added fuel to the fire. How dare he play the charming marauder at a time like this!

"You're crazy!" she yelled, struggling now with her whole body that she bounced several times on the floor. "And stop calling me that!"

The first time she tried to stop him, she was a very enthusiastic and determined rookie. A rookie who improvised fire arrows with flaming marshmallows on sticks. She got the impression that he found her hilarious in their first encounter.

"Why not, my dear?" the masked man asked. Her blood boiled at the amused tone, which wasn't hindered by the mask. Never mind his strange endearments in their professional relationship. There was something about her that makes people treat her like a little sister.

That last thought was enough to make steam shoot out of her ears. All this time, he wasn't treating her like a comrade, an ally with a common cause. He was treating her as a ditz! Not a serious professional!

Hot tears stung at her thoughts. Maybe she is a ditz for thinking they have a form of camaraderie from all their midnight adventures. Maybe it had been all in her head.

But the sun will blacken before she'd let one tear drop.

Fire burst from her body, but the toon-proof wires remained bound to her. "Furry little spitfire?! Every-"

"My furry little spitfire," he interjected, rolling up papers and pocketing them.

Inferno burned in her eyes. He's a dead man.

"Every word of that ridiculous name is degrading at its best!" she screamed with new-found fury. If she keeps on talking, maybe he'd linger long enough for one of her comrades to come in.

She glared at him. "First of all, I'm not yours!" she yelled, mentally threatening her abs to succeed a sit-up or she'd work them out for the rest of her life.

"Second, basing me by my fur is downright discriminatory!"

He seemed unperturbed under his bauta mask as he casually walked towards her. Rhoda hoped her comrades were now near enough to hear her yelling.

"Third, stay my height out of this!"

A chuckle reverberated under the mask and he picked her up by the waist. More outraged than ever, she tried to kick him with her bounded legs. She could feel him smirk when her ears instinctively reach for his neck to throttle him.

"Fourth, I'm not a spitfire! You just had that effect on me!" she shouted at his face, her eyes sparking with fury. Would her mother forgive her for spitting at someone?

Admitting weaknesses to the enemy is foolish, but really, she was running out of things to divert his attention.

She suddenly stiffened when he suddenly pulled her close.

"Good," he says quietly, "Because after all these years, you seem to have no idea of your effect on me."

What?

Her mouth dropped open. "W-what effect are you-"

"Hey!"

CRASH!

The Masked Man jerked away but didn't let go. They both looked up to see another white rabbit pointing a slingshot to his direction. Rhoda squirmed from his grip. Someone in a police gear… her brother had come!

"Roger!" she cried out.

"Let my sister go!"

End of Chapter

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