Fangmeyer stared out of her apartment window, her paws resting on the sill and her tail swaying restlessly. Most of the street outside was dark, just shadows and silhouettes, but there were a few splashes of light from street illuminations and windows. She hadn't seen a soul in almost an hour, not even a passing car, thanks to the late hour and the violent wind roaring through, but she wasn't ready to relax just yet.

A paw settled on her upper back, and a chin on her shoulder. "Well?"

"Still nothing. Maybe he was just passing through?"

"Maybe. How much longer are you going to keep watch?"

"With how bad the weather's gotten, half an hour at most."

"Good." Fabienne nosed the tiger's neck. "Maybe we'll have time for a round or two of blackjack."

Fangmeyer chuckled softly. "Who ever would have guessed that Miss Fabienne Growley, esteemed newscaster, was also a card shark?"

"Everyone has their secrets," the snow leopard demurred, with a light laugh of her own. "Any you'd care to share?"

The tiger looked thoughtful. "Well, there's..." She stiffened. "There's movement down the street..."

Fabienne followed her gaze. A figure, tall and strong and moving with real purpose, came along the road, keeping to the shadows, hustling a much smaller, stumbling one before them. Only when they were right across from the apartment did they finally step under a streetlight, and the snow leopard felt a chill run through her.

Rudderly stared unblinkingly up at the window as he pulled an elderly female skunk in front of him, one paw holding a long, glittering knife to her cheek. She was naked, and shivering, and leant on a cane with a handle shaped like a duck's head, but still carried herself with a quiet dignity. The big otter pointed at her, then at Fabienne, then held up all the digits of one paw.

"He wants to make a swap," the snow leopard deduced, tone as tight as her expression. "And we have five minutes."

"And I know that skunk; Higgins was stationed at her apartment up the street to keep a lookout." The tiger grabbed her radio. "Fangmeyer to Higgins." No answer. "Higgins, come in." Still silence. "Higgins!" She cursed under her breath, then changed channel. "Fangmeyer to base; urgent for Bogo."

The Chief's voice rang out in reply. "Report."

"Rudderly's here, and he's got a hostage: Rosie Scentborough. We've five minutes to exchange her for Ms Growley. I can't raise Higgins."

Bogo cursed. "I'll divert some back-up your way, but they'll be at least twenty minutes. If worst comes to worst, and you believe that drastic measures are needed, you have my permission."

"Understood, Sir." Fangmeyer's tone was leaden.

"Keep in touch. Bogo out."

"Yes, Sir. Out." The tigress put her radio into her pocket and sagged.

Fabienne's ears were bolt upright. "'Drastic measures'? If you mean that poor skunk's life will be forfeit to save mine..."

"Never." Fangmeyer's head snapped up, eyes blazing. "I won't let him hurt either of you." She drooped again. "But to do that, I might have to kill him. I've...never taken a life before..."

Fabienne stepped closer, resting a paw on the tiger's chest. "And you won't now, if I have anything to say about it."

The tigress managed a smile, took a breath, checked her tranq pistol was in her desk drawer and loaded, then returned to the window. On the street, Rudderly had just one finger up and the skunk's tremor had worsened; at a beckoning signal from Fangmeyer the otter nodded and started forward, shoving the skunk before him.

Fabienne positioned herself across the room from the door, while the tiger waited by it. The moment she heard footsteps nearing she eased it open and retreated to stand by the snow leopard. A dishevelled and shivering Mrs Scentborough entered first, but she kept her head high, and nodded polite greetings to the felines. Then the door's frame was filled by Rudderly's imposing form; he pushed the skunk further in, laid the knife against her throat, and his eyes locked on Fabienne.

A sickly grin split his muzzle, and he spoke in a deep, unctuous voice with a twist of something that set hackles rising. "Come to me, my pet, and I'll let the old stinker go."

"Stinker?" Mrs Scentborough sniffed, cane shifting in her paws.

"Let her go first," Fabienne insisted.

Rudderly chuckled darkly. "No. I get you, or the little old lady gets her throat cut." He pressed the blade a fraction closer to the skunk's neck.

Mrs Scentborough's eyes narrowed. "You really are very rude."

The otter growled. "Kindly zip your muzzle, stinker."

"Very rude indeed." The skunk shifted her cane again, then slammed the head of it hard into his groin.

Rudderly wheezed and buckled, knife paw falling; Fangmeyer lunged forward to seize it and slam it against the door frame, jolting the blade loose; Fabienne darted in to sweep Mrs Scentborough away, carrying the skunk to the desk. Cradling them close to her chest with one paw, she grabbed the trang gun with the other.

A roaring Rudderly tackled Fangmeyer forcefully enough for the tiger to overbalance and crash to the floor with the otter on top of her. His paws went right for her neck, hers catching his wrists and straining to hold them off, while her legs fought to lever him away. She threw him to one side just before Fabienne could fire, sending him crashing into a small table near the window, shattering it into fragments.

Snatching a shard of a leg up Rudderly hurled it at the snow leopard's head; she ducked and stumbled away from it, very nearly fetching up against the other end of the window. The otter flung another chunk of wood a second before Fangmeyer got to him, this one jolting the tranq gun from the snow leopard's paw so hard it smashed through the glass to to be swept into a wild tumble by the wind, finally rupturing on the spiked railing that bordered the apartment building.

As heavy gusts billowed inside Fabienne hit the floor and scrambled behind the desk, clutching Mrs Scentborough even closer and nursing her bloodied paw. She peered over, taut with anxiety, as Rudderly and an incensed Fangmeyer brawled around the windswept room, a brutal free-for-all of punches, kicks, claw swipes, charges, throws and slams that reduced everything bar the desk to rubble and them to panting, ragged, blood-streaked messes.

The otter managed to drive his shoulder into the centre of the tigress' stomach at the same time as she landed a heavy blow to his side; they stumbled away from each other, then straightened up as much as they could and glared at each other. Fangmeyer had her back to the broken window, Rudderly his to the wall opposite. She wiped blood from her nose, squared her feet, and spread her arms; he grunted, spat red on the floor, dropped his head, and shot towards her.

The tigress' eyes widened and she flung herself to one side, the otter missing her by a literal whisker. He tried to scrabble to a halt but had too much momentum, hitting the window and pitching out of it with a guttural scream. Fangmeyer dived to try and catch him but failed, and could only stand and cringe, expression sickened, at the sharp, metallic thunk that followed a second afterwards.

Fabienne stood and stepped forward, morbid curiosity driving her to see, but the tiger held out a warning paw.

"Don't." Fangmeyer's tone was leaden. "He landed on the railing."

"Oh, God." The snow leopard paled.

Mrs Scentborough sighed, finally relaxing her grip on her cane. "I fear he was always going to come to an end like that."

"True." Fangmeyer nodded, took a breath, then pulled her radio from her pocket; it broke apart in her paw. "Blast. I'll secure the body and wait for the backup; you look after Mrs Scentborough." She grabbed a spare sheet from her closet and hurried out.

Fabienne rushed into the bedroom, shutting the door to keep out the wind, and leaning on it with a very long sigh. She felt the skunk huddle closer to her chest, a shiver still running through their body, then they abruptly pulled back, looking contrite.

"I'm sorry, dear," Mrs Scentborough apologised. "Force of habit."

Something close to a smile surfacing, the snow leopard moved to sit cross-legged on the bed. "I don't mind. In fact..." She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it open. "I think you've earned a little indulgence."

The skunk laughed. "Well, I could hardly let such coarse manners go unpunished, now could I?" She laid her cane aside, then herself upon the cat's lushly-furred torso, head resting on the ruff at the top of their chest. "And call me Rosie."

"All right." Fabienne curled her paws around their side and hip. "Good to meet you, Rosie."

"The pleasure's all mine, dear; you really are as nice as you seem on TV. Officer Fangmeyer is a very lucky mammal."

The snow leopard blushed lightly. "What makes you think...?"

Rosie chuckled. "My eyes do still work, you know. I saw how fiercely she defended you, and how worried you were for her. You two are as drawn to each other as Elsa and I were, back in the day."

"Elsa?" Fabienne's eyes widened. "You had a...?"

"Girlfriend? Yes." The old skunk's expression turned melancholic. "In secret, for many years, since such things may have been legal, but still weren't much approved of, not until fairly recently. Our being different species – really different – didn't help, either."

"Different...?" The snow leopard gasped softly. "So that's why you're living in a large mammal apartment."

"Elsa was a lioness." A smile warmed Rosie's muzzle. "Golden-furred and graceful, soft-spoken and bespectacled, and had an impish streak wider than my tail stripes. She..." The skunk trailed off at the sound of the apartment door opening. "Another time, perhaps. Thank you for humouring an old lady's whims."

"No trouble at all." Fabienne helped Rosie to the floor, then buttoned up her blouse and stood.

Before they could reach the bedroom door it opened, and Judy Hopps came bustling in, Nick Wilde close behind. The rabbit was in the midst of a rapid-fire speech.

"...full of bomb-making equipment and pictures of Mmm..." She froze, staring dumbly at Mrs Scentborough, the last syllable continuing like a looped record.

Nick lightly rapped on her skull, smirking. "I'm sorry; your Judy 9000 has crashed; recommend rebooting." He wound up a foot, aiming it at her rear end.

"...mmmmy fist hitting your face if you try that, Wilde!" Judy snapped back to life, whipping round to glare at the fox. The glower was turned on Fangmeyer, looming behind them, too. "And why didn't you think to tell me she'd be n...n..."

"Naked, dear?" Mrs Scentborough asked, serenely. "Well, I was taken just before I could get into my bath. By the way – do you know what's happened to that charming Officer Higgins?"

Judy forced herself to look back round, fixing her gaze on the skunk's face. "He took a blow to the head, but he'll recover."

"Luckily, his skull appears to be hewn from reinforced concrete," Nick supplied. "And your apartment was barely damaged, so you're fine to go back, if you wish."

"Thank you, but I think I'll finally take my grand-niece's offer up," Mrs Scentborough answered. "I could use some company."

"We'll get a car to take you," Fangmeyer offered.

"And you're welcome to visit me," Fabienne chimed in. "Any time. I'd love to hear more about Elsa."

"Thank you, both." The skunk dipped her head gratefully. She looked at Judy. "And you really needn't be so awkward, dear; after all, you're not seeing anything unnatural. Quite the opposite."

The rabbit relaxed a little, chuckling quietly, and ushered the elderly mammal from the room. "You wouldn't happen to be a member of the Mystic Spring Oasis, would you?"

Mrs Scentborough grinned. "Life. I heard what happened recently. I do hope Yax is all right..."

"He's back to his usual charming self," Nick assured her, as they exited the apartment. "Though apparently he's now planning..."

His voice faded, along with their footsteps. Fangmeyer turned to the snow leopard with a wry smile. "Quite something, isn't she?"

"Inspiring, I'd say. Are we finally free to have that talk?"

"Well, the coroner's coming for Rudderly's body, Snarlov and Wolford are taking charge of the scene, and the Chief's practically ordered me to take a day or three off, so...yes. Would you mind if I stayed with you for a while?"

Fabienne's smile lit up her face. "Not in the slightest."

Two hours later, close to midnight, Fangmeyer walked into the lounge of the snow leopard's fairly modest, elegant yet homely house, freshly showered and clad in a dressing gown, to find her seated at her piano playing a slow, rhythmic, atmospheric piece. That she was peacefully nude seemed only natural.

"Beethooven's Moonlight Sonata," Fabienne explained. "I find it quite soothing." She tilted her head toward a nearby couch with a low table in front of it, on which the tigress' pad and pencils were laid out. "I was rather hoping you'd sketch me while I play."

"It'd be my pleasure." Smiling, Fangmeyer crossed to the sofa, letting her dressing gown slide off before she sat down, opening the pad to a fresh sheet and picking up a pencil. "And then we can finally have that talk we keep talking about."

The tigress kept her work loose and light, and didn't let herself linger on anything, so in the few minutes it took the snow leopard to reach the end of the sonata's second movement she had a decent sketch of them playing. Fabienne closed the piano's lid and stood up, so she set the pad on the table for them to see and lay back along the couch.

"Not playing the last movement?" Fangmeyer asked.

"A little beyond my level, I'm afraid," the snow leopard admitted with a soft chuckle. She picked up the tiger's sketch, and smiled. "You keep flattering me, Lina; I swear I don't look that lovely."

"Just drawing what I see," Fangmeyer replied, with no small warmth.

Fabienne's ears coloured. She put the pad back then moved to stand by the sofa, looking down on the tigress. "But I don't wear that earring any more. It didn't feel right after we lost touch."

Lina reached up to brush the other cat's side. "What about now?"

"Now...?" Fabienne knelt down and leant over, her face hovering just above Fangmeyer's. "It depends. Does you giving it to me mean what I've always hoped it meant?"

One of the tiger's paws settled on the snow leopard's upper back, the other on the top of their head, and drew them into a whispering press of muzzles. Lina's eyes were bright with feeling. "It meant that, Bee. It meant I thought I was falling in love with you."

Fabienne's eyes began to glisten. "And now?"

"Now it means I know I'm in love with you. I just hope you feel..."

She was cut off by the snow leopard's lips catching hers quite firmly, and with palpable affection. "What do you think?"

Lina laughed, just a little giddily, then her voice softened. "I think I've finished talking."

Bee laughed too, and shifted fluidly to lie atop the tigress. They softly rubbed noses, then their muzzles blended deeply in a kiss as tender as it was long, and it lingered enough for them to be panting lightly when they finally parted.

Fabienne nestled her cheek against Lina's. "Took us long enough."

Fangmeyer stroked the length of their back, nuzzled them, and closed her eyes. "Better late than never."