I checked myself in the bathroom mirror for the third time. The celadon blouse and light emerald skirt seemed like a good choice, perfect for highlighting my eyes. He'd appreciate that. Sure, he didn't specifically mention my eyes, but he did like staring into them. I patted my headwool. Yes, I could already see the cute blush on his face. And feel his tail brush my arm. I giggled. Yes, he'd love–

What was that?

I carefully flicked off the light. The living room's wasn't on, but someone dragged their feet across the carpet. I reached for anything I could use as a weapon. My fingers settled on the blaster tucked behind the soaps. It was just a Star Boars toy, but in the dark, it looked enough like a real gun. As long as my unwanted guest wasn't armed, I could scare them off. Then again, they had to be really stupid to break into my apartment.

Their footsteps stopped. Keeping the blaster drawn, I slowly moved down the hall. Great. Only about twenty minutes away from my date, and some inconsiderate jerk walked right in. Exactly what I needed. I pressed my free hoof against my chest. They didn't move. I took another couple steps. Their breath deepened. Curling my finger in front of the trigger, I took those final steps and raised it.

Doug stared back at me, unflinching.

I groaned and lowered the toy. "Don't scare me like that." How that ram could sneak anywhere was a mystery. A very helpful one, don't get me wrong, but still a mystery.

He nodded. "Evening."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. My neighbors were out for the evening (and he no doubt knew that), but I couldn't be too careful. "You said you'd call–"

"It's important. I have the next mark."

Doug seated himself on the floor and retrieved a slip of paper from the worn pack dangling on his shoulder. I set the blaster on the coffee table and clicked on the lamp. Between Doug's hastily-scribbled notes was an attached reconnaissance photo of a bespectacled otter emerging from the Naturalists club. (Didn't even wanna think about why he'd be there.) I adjusted my glasses. Something about him was familiar.

"Otterton," Doug clarified, in his surly, unblinking way.

I drummed my temple. Otterton…oh, yes! Emmett Otterton, the otter florist whose shop especially catered to Prey. I reexamined the photo. Yes, I remembered him now. And his lovely wife, too. It was hard to believe the two of them were Predators.

Two days ago, I stumbled into their shop, fingers still digging grooves into my palms. Lionheart "remodeled" my office with a "new filing system", courtesy of cramming more boxes into the already cramped walls of the pump room. Mrs. Otterton gently took my hoof. Before I could say anything, she walked me into their glassed dining area and offered a chair. An overhead fan blew cool air onto my heated back. Maintaining a warm smile, she told me to take deep breaths and called for her husband. And he entered with a freshly misted violet. They patiently listened as I choked out angry words about the maned idiot. And after all of that, they gave me three more violets for the road. He said we little mammals had to stick together.

I had forgotten about Otterton, our fourteenth candidate. It only made sense. His shop catered to Prey. Such a mammal turning would spark paranoia and fear in the right direction. I massaged my eyelids. The Ottertons waved goodbye as I departed, violet petals caressing the marks left in my palms. I smiled back at them. My hoof pressed into my forehead. They were still smiling. I shivered.

"You going soft on us?"

My eyes reopened. Those violets were lovely, and they treated me with respect I never received from any of the larger mammals. But…this was necessary. They were Predators. I had to remember that. And besides, it was only one act of kindness from Predators who never paid me any mind until I walked right in front of their store. They had a clear, ulterior motive. That's all it had been. I had to remember that. I had to remember why I was doing this.

"Well?"

I tapped my temple. "I was thinking."

Doug stared.

I passed the paper back to him. "What did you have in mind?"

"Intercepted a phone call," he replied, matter-of-factly. "Otteron plans to visit an acquaintance in Tundratown. Scheduled a driver from their Limo Service. Round trip, returning around ten or eleven, depending on the duration of Otteron's stay. The driver's a black jaguar named Renato Manchas. Lives in the Rainforest District. He–"

I raised my hoof. "That'll do, Doug, thank you. Woolter and Jesse delivered?"

"My usual allotment of one pellet."

"Doug, we've been over this. You should always carry at least three."

The ram stood up and towered over me. "You know I only need one shot."

Damn rams and their wounded egos. "I know that. I wouldn't have consulted your expertise in the first place if that wasn't true. But we have to account for misfires."

He shook his head. "I never miss. You know that."

I didn't need this. "All right, all right, you win. One pellet. One shot. Your aim is one in a million. Saves us the mess."

Doug backed down. "Yes." He paced around my living room, briefly eyeing the toy blaster sitting on the table. "You kept this stupid thing?"

"Please get to the point, Doug."

He tucked his hooves behind his back. "Woolter and Jesse collected another thirty-five specimens for production. They'll have the complete, synthesized material ready in about twenty-eight hours."

"What would I do without you?"

"Fail."

"Don't push it, mister. I'm paying you to snipe at them, not me."

"What're you dressed up for?"

I instinctively dusted my blouse and skirt. "If you must know, I'm meeting a special someone in twenty minutes. Which is exactly why I want to cut to the chase."

"Congratulations." Doug's muzzle tried to curl.

I winced. "Please don't do that. It's creepy." I clapped my hooves. "Anyway, good call. With any luck, this'll finally give us the hook to send the ZPD straight to Lionheart."

"Why now?"

I patiently smiled. "To make him suffer a little more, before I grind his spine under my feet." After taking a few seconds to relish that delightful mental image, I continued. "We need him to think it's the start of an epidemic, remember? A pawful of subjects wouldn't be enough. But with fourteen, it'll make him especially desperate. And especially vulnerable…" I drove my fist into my other hoof.

Doug took a step back. "I get ya."

"Besides, thirteen's an unlucky number, you silly boy. Now, if we're finished, I have business to attend to. I'm sure you'll see yourself out." I turned back towards the bathroom.

"Good luck with your date."

"Thanks, I–" Over my shoulder, Doug was gone. I inspected the living room and found the window cracked. Out in the night air, faint hoofsteps leapt from the bottom of the fire escape. Thank goodness he was my side. I shut the window, turned out the light, and prayed his apparently invisibility would hold up.

The blaster's plastic barrel aimed directly where Doug made his graceful escape. I picked it up and shook my head. Jesse, that crazy Star Boars fanatic. My finger squeezed the trigger. A faint red light blinked and a faint laser sound effect crackled. I aimed at the dark wall. A pellet soared into the night sky. My heart skipped a beat. I smiled and returned to the bathroom mirror. That night…I closed my eyes.

"Pretty awesome, huh?"

My eyes reopened. Jesse grinned wickedly and thumbed at the blaster. "That thing's pretty bitchin', right? I had one of these when I was a lamb."

I passed it back to him. The dark blue clothes he so graciously secured pressed tighter around my wool. "Yes, it certainly is. Thank you for loaning it."

"No prob. I know it's no real substitute for the real thing, but it's still pretty amazing, right?" He snickered. "But how would you like to try the real thing?"

"What do you mean?"

Jesse batted his hooves at the air. "Just hear me out, okay? We've got the first mark lined up. He's heading right down Lowam, dead ahead."

I stepped over a discarded brown bottle. Yes, Lowam, the street marked by abandoned buildings and used to evade heavier daytime traffic downtown. I supposed Jesse and Doug found the mark sniffing around a lamppost. Hopefully, we'd be far back when they turned and lunged with all those claws and teeth and…AGH! "I don't have very good aim."

"Don't need it. Doug's on stand-by if things really go to shit. He's got the vantage point all laid out. The mark's a real stickler for nightwalking. And we all thought you should get the first shot in. After all, the whole plan's your bitchin' idea."

"Jesse, language. And that sounds lovely, except how will Lionheart notice the first mark if they're on Lowam?"

The ram laughed and steadied himself with an overturned trash can. "That stupid lion's walking right towards us. Doug says it looked like he was trying to weasel his way out of a fight. He's got two guys with him, a bear and a coyote. They're gonna detour through Lowam, right in the path of our first mark. No witnesses, no security cameras. And if there are some, you can tamper with them, right?"

I nodded, scratching the dark blue fabric snagging my lower back wool.

"Good. I really don't wanna ask Doug again. I don't like hanging around that guy."

"I don't, either."

"Woolter says that makes me a pansy."

I smacked my forehead. "Let me get this straight. You're suggesting we sic the first mark on him?"

"Would that really be so bad? Son of a bitch has had it coming for a long time, right?"

I smacked my forehead a second time. "As much as I'd love to see Leodore torn to shreds by another disgusting Predator, that'll jeopardize the plan."

"Fair enough, but it won't go wrong, Boss. I promise."

I nodded again. The sooner we finished this, the sooner I could shed these clothes. The fabric tightened around my stomach. And trying to figure out where Jesse had picked them up almost made my skin crawl as much as the smell.

Jesse guided me to the back alley of the old Shrewvall Building facing the street. I grinned. Leodore was just barely talked out of knocking the place down to construct another Bug-Burga. Jesse grinned with me. I quickly checked my watch. If Doug was correct, we'd only have so long before the mark and Lionheart went their separate ways. I kicked aside a discarded wrapper lined with bug paste and slid through the warped doorway.

Doug waited at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a loose-fitting dark blue jacket. The case hung from his fingers and glimmered in the dim light. I began to shiver. Jesse laughed and patted my shoulder. I shrugged him off and approached the other ram. Doug merely tilted his head towards the stairs. Jesse strode past us and stopped a few steps up. Doug waved for me to follow. I kept close behind, arms still shaking.

Three floors up, a jammed window layered with dust gave us the perfect vantage point. I carefully peered through. Heading from the right towards us, a black wolf stopped to inspect the sky. Probably searching for the moon, if he followed typical Predatory instincts. I recognized him from one of Doug's candidate photos. Didn't recall his name, but that wouldn't matter soon enough.

And on the other end was Lionheart, his mane and suit disheveled, his pride most certainly wounded. Bearig and an unfamiliar coyote trailed behind, probably reassuring him that he hadn't screwed up that badly. The pleasant idea of a large Prey–like Chief Bogo, perhaps–effortlessly tossing him onto the tarmac floated through my mind. I clasped my muzzle to keep myself from giggling.

The mark looked up again, getting uncomfortably close to the Shrewvall's boarded entrance. I slipped away from the window, pulling the collar of the dark blue shirt over my mouth. Doug knelt next to me, watching the scene unfold with his usual impassive stare. Jesse reined in his excitement long enough to unlatch the case. Even in the faint moonlight, that beautiful gun absolutely shone.

"You ready?" Doug whispered curtly.

"She's more than ready. I gave her a practice gun."

"Toy's different from the real thing, moron." Doug drew out the ultramarine pellet, loaded it, and set the gun into my fingers. "Don't fire until the mark gets close enough. And if you can't do it, give it to me and get out of the way."

Fair enough. I assumed the position and steadied my excited hooves. The barrel wobbled over the black wolf's head. I narrowed my eyes. The barrel settled just behind his left ear. The mark caught sight of Lionheart and ambled towards him. Now or never, Dawn! I sucked in a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

The pellet struck the back of his head without a sound. To a lay observer, the wolf stumbled over his own feet and struck his jaw on the concrete. I took another deep breath and pressed my free hoof against my rapidly beating heart. Behind me, Jesse hissed a quiet "Bitchin'". Doug remained silent.

It was beautiful. The black wolf convulsed for a few more moments before his claws began raking at the concrete. He revealed his true Predatory nature, growling at the quickly approaching lion and bear. Bearig shot out his paw and asked if he was okay. The wolf bolted a couple feet, snapping his teeth loud enough to faintly echo down Lowam. Lionheart raised his paws and softly tried to negotiate. The wolf disregarded his empty words and charged.

And as much as I would've loved to say he buried his teeth into Leodore's throat, it sadly wasn't the case. Bearig rammed the wolf against the sidewalk and tightened his arms around the raging mammal's torso. Dodging bites, he called for the coyote to remove his shirt. The coyote quickly complied and, with a not-so-dignified curse, snared the wolf's jaws in a wrap of dark fabric. The wolf thrashed and clawed at Bearig's arms.

"We have to get him to the hospital," Bearig started. "He's–"

"Are you nuts?" Lionheart glared at the mammal fighting to escape Bearig's uncannily strong embrace. "Look at him," he continued as calmly as he could. "He's…something's…it's like a switch was flipped."

"Sir, can we–?" Bearig protested.

"No, we can't. We have to get him out of here. I've seen that look. Do you know what that means for us, Bearig? Graycoat? It means another easy way to demonize us. I can't let that happen." He pulled out his phone. For a moment, I feared he would call me. But instead, he replied to someone else. "Hey, it's me. I need a van down Lowam, pronto. Yes, it's serious. Bring your tranquilizers, but don't let anyone else see you. We can't afford–"

The wolf nearly slipped free from Bearig's grasp. The coyote, Graycoat, rolled back onto the street, desperately crawling away. Bearig compressed his arms around the wolf's throat. The feral mammal struggled a bit longer, his paws slapping at Bearig's large, hairy arms, until he finally fell still.

Lionheart nearly dropped his phone. "Oh, God, Kent, you didn't."

"He's just unconscious. I had to do something! We have to–"

"No hospitals," Lionheart cut in. "We can't afford to let him screw everything up for us." He glared at the coyote in the street. "Graycoat, get your pathetic behind back up here. Do you wanna get run over?"

The coyote complied, yipping at the sight of the collapsed and thankfully not-dead wolf. (That certainly wouldn't do the epidemic any favors.) Lionheart seized the scruff of his neck and gestured at Bearig to watch over the unconscious lupine. The coyote still shuddered, not taking his eyes off the black-furred beast at his feet.

I withdrew from the window, smiling widely beneath the dark blue collar. Didn't matter if the clothes smelled like a homeless Pred used them to sleep in, I was giddy. Jesse grinned. Doug motioned for us to leave the room. We slid back into the hallway. Outside, a vehicle arrived from Lionheart's side of Lowam. My trigger finger curled, retaking that first shot all over again.

Once I stopped shaking, I tugged the collar down. "Thank you. That was incredible. But I think from now on, I'll let Doug handle it. He's the marksram, after all."

"And don't you forget it," Doug murmured as he repacked the gun. "Not bad for a first shot."

"Ah, come on, she was awesome." Jesse waved his arms. "That was just perfect."

Doug sat down in a cleaner section of the hallway, setting the case atop his crossed legs. I trotted a few feet in the other direction. Lionheart's van sped away. My heart began to race once more. I brushed down my arms. Even the smelly, wool-choking clothes couldn't dampen my spirits.

When I turned around, Jesse held out the toy blaster. I looked up at him.

"So you can remember what it felt, duh."

I smiled and accepted it. Down the hall, I pictured Lionheart trying to sneak down Lowam, no other mammal there to defend him. I fired the shot. The black wolf leapt out of the darkness. Lionheart crumbled onto his knees, pleading for his miserable life as the wolf dove, fueled by the shot to his system.

The blaster crackled with a soft red light and a distant laser strike.

I was back in front of the mirror, aiming the blaster at my reflection. Oh, Good Lord! Tyler was waiting at Misty's. How long was I reminiscing? The toy fired another nonexistent shot. I stuffed it into the laundry hamper. Jesse surely wouldn't mind if it smelled like unwashed socks and shirts. I was already late enough.

I slipped on my usual jacket, even if its dark blue clashed with my otherwise green ensemble. He'd understand. I was the Assistant Mayor, as charitable of a title as that was. And he knew from first-hoof experience what working under that asshole was like. I smirked. Tyler was rubbing off on me. Now if only I could say it to Lionheart's stupid, maned face.

After giving my apartment another lookover (never could rule out Doug getting careless), I collected my purse and stepped outside. And then froze solid on the concrete.

The Ottertons' supportive smiles beamed in the sunlight streaming through the windowed ceiling. Her paw gently held my hoof. He stepped out with the fresh violet, still dotted with droplets of water. They sat before me, absolutely glowing when I told them how smooth and mild the petals and stem felt over my tongue. He adjusted his own glasses, saying we had to stick together. His wife gave my hoof another squeeze.

I forced myself to keep walking. So maybe I knew this mark, unlike the others. So they acted nice to the stressed ewe. That…that didn't matter. They were Predators, and he was the next mark. The next necessary mark. And they only acted on ulterior motives. Yes. They ran a business. They manipulated Prey like me all the time. And as the Assistant Mayor, why else would they give me such special treatment? That's…

They still smiled. She still held my hoof with her warm paw. I reached into my purse for the burner Ramsung. She patted my shoulder and told me everything would be okay. I stared into the darkening street ahead. He gave me three more violets for the road. Was it too late? I pulled up Doug's number. The Ottertons wished me a good day.

No. I shoved the burner back into my purse. I had to remember why I was doing this. They were Predators. They didn't care. I couldn't forget that. Their kindness was a front for their business. We needed Otterton as the fourteenth mark. That's how it had to be. Even if I could still see Emmett's wife guiding me out of the harsh sunlight and into the cool room, brushing my back…no, it had to be done. I had to remember that…I…I…

I buried my face into my hooves and fought back tears.

I sat at my usual booth, drumming my fingers on the menu when I didn't sip at the water Viola left. A civet strolled out a couple minutes before, after asking a few too many questions about the air fresh…arrowhead. (Damn it, Nicky.) I thought about calling Dawn, when I remembered I didn't have her number. Note to self: Please ask her, Tyler.

Viola rested her arms atop the mostly-empty counter. Thank God most of Friday's patrons went to the roofless side of the restaurant. "You doing okay over there?"

I tucked my fingers into my pads. "Sí. Estoy esperando."

She smirked. "¿Quién es la señorita?

I grinned back at her. "Una mujer muy bonita y increíble."

She laughed. "No es mi, ¿verdad?"

"No, eres muy bonita y increíble. Pero ella…es especial."

"Es la alcaldesita, ¿sí?"

"No te digo."

She laughed again. "Called it."

"Bueno, pero ella quiere reunirme en secreto. Considering the crap one of the tontos she works with dragged us into, I don't blame her. So if you wouldn't tell anyone, it'd help us a lot."

"Yo entiendo. No dice nadie."

"You mean, besides Alex?"

"Fue error. No haré otra vez." She pointed at the door. "Tu alcaldesita llega."

Dawn entered, her mahogany purse nearly sliding off her shoulder, and shivered a little from the last downpour. She steadied her headwool and sighed. "All this preparation, and I forgot my umbrella." The ewe rushed to her seat, ears now drooping. "Sorry I'm a little late. I got tied up. Last minute calls."

"No problem. I know from first-paw experience what those jerks are like."

She peeled off her soaked jacket and bundled it next to her. "Thanks for understanding. You have no idea how much I appreciate that."

I bent forward and gently squeezed her hoof. She smiled and squeezed my paw in turn.

Viola approached with another glass of water, another menu, and thankfully not a knowing smirk. I thanked her and resumed looking through mine. Then I set it down. "What looks good to you, Dawn?"

She nervously laughed, fingers sliding down her glass. "There's something I don't hear very often. When it's not Tiffany, they usually shove a plastic-wrap salad into my hooves and call it good." The ewe sipped some water and flipped through the pages. "Oh, I haven't had this in forever." She tapped the photographed Fettucine Alfuredo bowl.

"Excellent idea."

She folded the menus shut. "Thanks."

I waved for Viola and ordered two Alfuredo bowls. But as the jaguar returned to the kitchen, Dawn stared sadly at her hooves. I moved to hold them. Her head shot up. "Sorry," she murmured. "Been a long night."

I leaned back into my seat. Dawn pulled off her glasses and grasped her head, groaning angrily into her palms. My ears lowered. "Dawn?"

The ewe peeled her hooves from her eyes and half-heartedly grabbed for her glasses. I passed them to her. She set them atop her muzzle. "I'm fine, Tyler. Really, I am. It's…" Dawn uttered a mock growl and curled her fingers. "You know?"

"Yeah, I know." I glanced at her light green blouse. "You look good in green."

A smile tugged at the corners of her muzzle. "I thought I'd go for something a little different than my usual blues and blacks and whites." She crossed her arms to prop up her head. "I'm glad you like it."

"Oh, I do. Green is definitely your color. Goes nicely with your eyes."

Dawn stared at the window, her cheeks flaring and muzzle twitching. She closed her eyes and shivered again. I cupped her hoof. She swatted my paw away. Her eyes shot back open. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I'm really sorry!"

"Don't be. I have to respect your boundaries," I replied cautiously.

"It's not that. Believe me, I love it when you hold my hoof. It's…" The ewe sank into the cushion. "It's nothing. I'm getting worked up over nothing. But I guess that's what I'm good at, right?"

I shook my head.

Dawn rubbed her temples. "I'm sorry, I'm being so unfair to you."

I climbed out of my seat and stood next to hers. When Dawn turned, I delicately removed her glasses and wrapped my arms around her. She pressed her face into my shoulder and dug her hooves into my back. I stroked up and down hers, taking care not to disturb her headwool. A few tears began to flow. I closed my eyes. Dawn's fingers dug deeper. Her headwool brushed the left side of my side. Very soft, despite the moisture. I smiled and waited until her hooves slid away. When I stepped back with reopened eyes, she hung her head.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, wiping away lingering tears with the back of her arm. "I made such a mess."

"Don't worry about it. I'm here for you, Dawn. It's the least I can do."

She lifted her chin, her lovely smile resurfacing. "Thank you."

I nodded and returned to my seat. Dawn refitted her glasses in time for Viola to arrive with two plates of Alfuredo and a basket of garlic bread. The jaguar departed with a knowing smirk. I ignored it, watching as Dawn's mood brightened with the first two forkfuls. I coiled a few sauced noodles around the tines and ate slowly. Dawn's eyes remained on the pasta, without any further hint of tears. I relaxed and shoveled another forkful into my mouth.

Daintily placing her fork atop the Alfuredo-slathered and noodle-less plate, Dawn nibbled a slice of garlic bread. I set down my fork with the remaining noodles and took a piece for myself. I pressed it against the plate and ran it to the left, smearing a nice layer of Alfuredo. The ewe chuckled. "I forgot I'm not performing for a bunch of high-ranking mammals right now." She did the same and relished the taste.

"Well, as a Nutra-Lyfe delivery skunk, I feel you need a break."

She laughed, nearly dropping her next slice. "And I'm very grateful. I've had to memorize all sorts of forks and knives, for those occasions when Lionheart wines and dines someone of "fine breeding", and actually remembers to invite me. Except that he wouldn't recognize fine breeding if it nipped him in the tail."

"Am I of "fine breeding"?"

Dawn smiled warmly. "Believe me, you're far more refined than many of the mammals I've dined with. Assuming they recall I exist once Leodore wears out every booster seat joke he's made about me." She crunched the bread.

"And here I thought he needed the booster seat."

The ewe snorted and coughed bread chunks onto her plate. She waved my paws away and took a deep drink before finishing her laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just thought of him trying to sit in one of those stupid things."

I smirked. "He struck me as the type who's desperate for attention. It'd be a great conversation starter."

"Oh, yes, I can already picture the next day's headline. MAYOR GETS BOOST IN RATINGS."

"MAYOR GETS BEST SEAT IN HOUSE."

"And the photo would be priceless. And the face he'd surely make…"

"Assuming the camera didn't catch him falling off."

Dawn laughed harder and slammed her hooves onto the table. I laughed with her, catching the curious look Viola shot our way. The ewe gradually eased into a content sigh. "You didn't hear it from me, but he really needs something to knock him down a peg."

"Like a booster shot?"

She stifled another giggle. "Tyler, stop."

"All right, I'll stop. I just love it when you smile. Your laugh is nice, too."

Dawn coyly glanced to her right, ears lowering and face reddening. "Why, Mr. Zorrillo, I had no idea you were such a flatterer."

"It's not flattery if it's true."

She couldn't stop her next giggle. "Talk like that's gonna get you into trouble."

I considered the obvious retort–Maybe I want trouble–but that definitely sounded better in my head. Instead, I resumed brushing her arm with my clean paw. She closed her eyes and held my wrist with her clean hoof. I slowly pushed my paw up. Her hoof followed. Feeling my heart beating through my arm, my paw cupped her cheek, its fingertips sinking into soft wool. She moaned and nuzzled my pads. I lightly squeezed. An adorable bleat left her lips. Her eyes lazily reopened, another lovely smile stretching beneath them.

"I'm gonna BE the MAIN event!"

With a frustrated growl, Dawn gingerly shrugged off my paw and reached into her purse. Her eyes widened at her phone, and she quickly hooked the bottom before it'd ring right out of her hooves. She stomped outside with it pressed to her ear. I glared at the table. Was that asshole really that inconsiderate?

I had to follow her, to make sure she was okay. I climbed out of the booth. Viola raised an eyebrow from the counter. I pointed at Dawn, cradling her sore head with her free hoof. The jaguar waved for me to go. I thanked her and quietly stepped outside.

"I told you I was busy, tonight," she hissed. "Don't take that attitude with me. I…yes, yes, I know you're the best. Do I have to stroke your damned ego every time? Okay, fine, you wanted me to know…listen, it's already stressful enough for…no, I know what "stressful" is! I know…fine, fine, I hear you. Good, you're where you need to be. Fine, I get it. Now, if you don't mind, I was having a wonderful…yes, I know I'll have to talk to her. Yes, I can do it. You have no right to talk to me like that." Her fingers tightened. "I just want to enjoy the rest of my evening, okay? Would you…?"

Dawn's arm wilted, nearly dropping her phone into the rain-soaked dirt. She took a few steps towards the door and collapsed into the wall. Supporting herself on the carving of a many-branched tree, she crammed her phone back into her purse and shuddered. Her glasses slid down her muzzle. With an angry moan, she pressed her forehead and headwool into the carved branch. The next shower began. She shut her eyes and repeatedly struck the stone wall with her fists.

I stopped beside her. Dawn looked at me with tear-lined eyes. I held out my paw. She immediately took it, fingers hooking snugly around mine. I guided her out of the rain, taking care not to trip either of us into the mud forming at our feet. She released my paw at the door, giving me a chance to scrape my feet on the mudmat and hold it open. The ewe walked inside and paused to groan at the mud tracked behind her. She angrily marched back out, scraped her feet, and marched back in.

At the booth, Dawn wiped her glasses and set them aside before reburying her face into her palms. I choked back a growl. Couldn't Lionheart leave her alone for one evening? I knew she was the Assistant Mayor, and that naturally involved a lot of work, but the way he acted the other day…I slipped my paws into my elbows. Getting mad wouldn't solve anything.

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Not your fault your boss is a jerk."

"Thanks..."

I moved out of my seat and back into hers. This time, I slid my arm around Dawn's waist and pulled her next to me. She lowered her hooves and rested her head on my shoulder. Her headwool nudged my chin. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I'm here for you."

One hoof ran across my collarbone, grabbing for my other shoulder. I gently took her wrist and set it there. Her arm snagged the arrowhead's chain and flipped it in front of my shirt collar. She diverted her gaze from the metal tag. "I'm sorry you have to wear that."

"It's okay, Dawn. It's not your fault. You're a good mammal."

Her fingers dug into my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

I dipped my chin and lightly kissed her forehead. "Don't be. You don't deserve to be treated like that. Those pendejos don't know how lucky they are to have you around."

She shivered. I kissed her forehead a second time. Her fingers worked down my arm. If the cushion hadn't been at our backs, my tail would have curled around her. Anything to make her feel better. Anything I could do.

Dawn craned her head and brushed her lips under my chin. I closed my eyes, keeping my paw at her waist. The tip of her tongue softly drew along my neck. Her hoof retreated up my arm and made its way to my chest. I slid down the cushion and onto my back. My eyes reopened. Dawn climbed on top of me, smiled, and ran her fingers through my headfur. Blushing, my eyes couldn't meet her gaze, even as she kissed the split stripe running between them.

"Tyler," she whispered. "Look at me. Please."

I obeyed. And, following another lovely smile, she brought her lips down onto mine.

Holy crap. Here I was, at Misty's on the Vine, lying down in a booth, locking lips with the Assistant Mayor of Zootopia. Her fingers stroked along my face. Her mouth pressed harder. My paws slowly worked their way up her back. Her tongue slid out and dragged across the space between my lips. My heart froze. I remembered the way she looked at my teeth. I couldn't scare her like that. I'd never hurt her, but I…her tongue pressed harder. I…

My mouth slid open. She tilted her muzzle, hungrily driving her tongue down to meet with mine. I gripped her waist and finally began to kiss back. Dawn moaned and tickled the roof of my mouth. The tip of my tail slid along her spine. Her tongue pulled back, and then recoiled from my canine teeth. My heart refroze. Her tongue wavered a few seconds before returning to dance with mine. My heart resumed beating. At least she wasn't afraid…for long.

The ewe broke the kiss, snapping a strand of saliva between our lips. But before I could apologize, her mouth returned to the split stripe between my eyes. My eyelids drooped. She switched out her lips for her tongue. My tail stopped just beneath her headwool, lightly teasing the nape of her neck. Dawn giggled and licked slower. Her fingers wove into my headfur, stroking pawfuls before making their way to my ears. I couldn't hold back my moan. Dawn finally withdrew and pressed her nose to mine. We smiled.

My heartbeat thudded through my arms as they fell from her back. And my tail retreated beneath the table, after stroking her neck one final time. Dawn held my shoulders and lifted us into a sitting position. I pressed my paws to keep from flopping out of the seat. She put on her glasses and smirked at the idiotic grin marked on my face. Oh, well. It didn't matter if I looked stupid. She was happy. And those damned idiotas didn't know how lucky they were.

I leaned towards her, still grinning. Dawn pressed a finger to my lips. "Sorry. Believe me, I'd love to do it again, but I've got work in the morning. And I'm sure you do as well?"

Yeah, Nutra-Lyfe sorta slipped my mind this evening. "I do. Although I'm sure my boss would forgive me if he knew I was helping the Assistant Mayor."

She brushed my arm. I was never gonna get tired of that. "I can believe it. He seems like he's vying for the position of Lionheart's Number One Fan."

"You have no idea. He's got a framed campaign poster in his office." I frowned at the memory of Lionheart's signature obscuring Dawn's face.

"Are you okay?"

I pushed out that image. "Just thought of something stupid, that's all." I grinned nervously. "That, and the last few minutes kinda short-circuited my brain."

She laughed. "I couldn't have been that good."

I pulled her close enough for another kiss to her forehead. "No, you were awesome. I'm the one who needs improvement."

"You won't when I'm done with you," she whispered.

My tail stiffened. She laughed and excused herself. On her way to the bathroom, she examined her phone, and then shoved it back into her purse. Guess Lionheart finally got the hint and left her alone. At least for the rest of tonight.

With another stupid grin locked on my face, I gripped the table and returned to my seat. My tail finally dropped and curled around my ankles. When I looked up, Viola barely restrained a snicker. My gaze went back to the table.

"¿Cómo estás, Señor Zorrillo?"

"Bien. Muy bien." I waved in what I hoped was her direction. My arms still shook a little.

"Qué poder." The jaguar ruffled my headfur. "Buena suerte."

Once my limbs felt stable enough, I made my way to the counter. Dawn still hadn't returned. I could still feel her wool around my fingers and her tongue between my eyes. My stupid grin finally settled into a less idiotic smile. Viola helpfully passed the bill. I nodded and paid her, nearly dropping my coins a couple times.

"You sure you'll be all right, borracho?"

"I'm taking the train home. And Preston would skin me alive if I came to work with a hangover."

"Pobrecito," she chuckled.

I laughed and set my paws on the counter. "In all seriousness, though, thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. For providing us with a good meal. For not taking pictures."

Viola clicked her tongue. "No soy cruel. Ahora."

"Gracías, anyway." I took a few steps without stumbling. "¿Mira? Puedo andar, policía. No soy borracho. Ahora."

I returned to the booth with Viola's laughter at my back. Passing the other seat, I smiled and patted the cushion. Oh, the special memories this place would now hold. And sure enough, there was Dawn, smoothing out her listing headwool. "Sorry about that," I called out to her.

The ewe shook her head and linked her arm around mine. "Don't be. I needed this. I really did." She kissed my cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And don't worry about the bill. I got that covered."

"All right, but next time, I'm spoiling you."

Suddenly, I remembered her tongue recoiling from my teeth. My smile faltered. I interlocked our fingers. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

"What are you…?" Her eyes slowly grew. "No, no, don't feel bad. Kissing's still pretty new to me."

"You sure? You were pretty good at it."

Dawn blushed and slapped my chest. Her hoof tapped the arrowhead. She tucked it back under my collar and curled her arm to her chest. "You were pretty good, too."

"Thanks. We should probably get going. If we make out again, I will lose all control of my arms and legs."

She stifled a laugh and collected her now drier jacket. I helped fit it back on, and she trotted ahead, tugging me by the arm. Viola waved with one paw and ran the other across her lips. I mouth a quiet "gracías" and followed Dawn into the night.

Halfway to Selva Cruz, she broke into a run. Still hooked hoof-to-paw, I kept close behind. She no longer held back her excited laughter. I laughed with her. A passing night cyclist braked abruptly and yelled. We kept on, kicking up leftover mud and crumbling dirt. A pair of ocelots ran the other way, almost tripping when they tried to get a better look at us. Dawn's laugh shattered into a flurry of giggles. I settled for another simple, stupid grin. And as we neared the lights of Selva Cruz Memorial, our fingers finally parted.

"That was interesting, for wanting to keep this between us."

The ewe blushed. "I don't know what got over me. I just feel so happy."

I snuck another forehead kiss. "I love it when you're happy."

She hugged my arm. "Thank you."

Soon, we waited on the platform as another shower began. Two antelope couples gathered on the far right, too caught up in their conversations to pay attention. I glided to Dawn and gave her hoof another squeeze. I'd never get tired of doing that, either. But, like before, Dawn's eyes shot open. I released her hoof and stepped back.

Her ears sagged. "I'm really sorry, Tyler. I'm just thinking about some tasks I'll have to handle in the near future. They're not going to be easy."

"You'll do fine. Remember, you're the one keeping this city going."

That brought out another smile. "And you're the one who said you'd deck Leodore with a folding chair."

I shrugged. "Anything to make you happy."

Dawn draped her arm around my waist. I smiled down at her, until I noticed the sad look overtaking her face. The ewe sighed and pulled away. She wrung her hooves together, ears still sagging. I considered taking her into my arms and curling my tail around her back until her smile returned. No, that probably wouldn't help. She wanted to keep this between us.

New tears flowed from her eyes. She violently shook her head, almost knocking off her glasses. With a resigned sigh, she slipped them off and wiped her tears away with the back of her arm. What the hell did Lionheart say to her? No, I couldn't ask. She was already stressed enough. I pictured driving a metal folding chair into his chin. I'm sure Dawn would love that.

Her eyes locked onto the tracks. I held out my paw. She took it, but didn't redirect her gaze. I gave her hoof another squeeze. She let out another sigh. Reluctantly, I released her hoof and waited with my paws in my pockets. The lights of the approaching train neared. Dawn's eyes remained on the track. The rain softened to a steady drizzle.