Chapter 9: A Restful Sunday

Sunday afternoon, in front of Precinct 1 Station

Nick shook, a relaxing shake that started at his head and worked its way down his body until all that was left was a twitch at the end of his brush. He took a deep calming breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. It was a good time; he was (relatively speaking) alone, he'd finished his stretches and for once this month he didn't need to worry about running across a vixen's scent and getting scent drunk on his run. Or in ending his run oxygen starved from having to breathe to flow limiting nose filters. Life was good – Judy had even let him sleep in, and he'd woken up only well after "Officer Toot-toot" had left for church.

A Few Minutes Later, On The Run

He laughed, and set off at a slow jogging pace of ten miles per hour towards the head of the jogging path around the nearby park.

If there was anything I could put at the top of the list that I've gained of late, Nick thought as he ran along the jogging path, is that I really enjoy running. I used to live for running, back when I ran track in High School, but somehow I got away from the simple joy over the years. Maybe the continued "slings and arrows" of being a pred – and a fox at that – in a prey dominated city stole this bit of happiness.

He checked his pulse as he stepped up his pace to twenty miles per hour. Cardio feels enliven, not overstressed – I've got plenty of oomph left. Pulse is up a bit, but nowhere near the "red line". Maybe even better than when I ran track … 'lo these seventeen years ago. Breathing is easy – and without those damned filters, I'm not choking on the limited flow. No vixens around, so … no worry about going scent drunk.

Nick leaned into a curve in the trail and used the positive side of the camber as he raced around a small lake in the park. Silence – it's wonderful. No cars, no trams, and the lack of any dust-trail says that I've got the trail all to myself. No worries about anaerobic/aerobic changeover, not the slightest hint of "lockup" – just the pure endorphin rush of the chase – well, of the run, anyway. He shook his head from side to side as he swung right around the next curve, away from the dense, canyon-like walls of buildings of downtown Zootopia. The air smells better here in the park, he thought. Maybe not as good as it did in Bunnyburrow – the one bright element of that otherwise horrendously unpleasant trip – but it's still better than Downtown. Or, he recognized, in much of Foxtown, with the scents of stale urine and worse that often came from dark alleys and walkways in that "less than perfectly well maintained" unofficial district.

A problem with having a keen sense of smell, the vulpine tod thought, as he continued racing through the park. Maybe that's why some mammals smoke tobacco – despite the known health problems – killing their scenting ability, so that they can't smell the stench they and others create with their smoking, or the stench of too many bodies – of mammals that seem to have never heard of proper personal hygiene – or the sour-sweet smell of illness everywhere in this mammal-heap (except in the parks and around the small lakes or the river).

Ahead, he could see a widening in the trail. A meadow? I must have taken a turn the "wrong" way a while back. I don't think I've been this way before! Nick shook his head from side to side and frowned, but continued his run. He didn't like it when his "map" of the City was found to be incomplete or wrong. I know everyone in this town – and I know the City! They must have added to the jogging path – that's it! The path swung away from the small lake and up a slight incline – and after another turn, ran between two small meadows. Makes sense, he thought, the path was along what once was the streambed for a small stream.

He could afford the breath to laugh, briefly, and decided that it was time to go "full out" and he increased his speed to a full thirty miles per hour.

#

Half an hour later, at the end of the twelve mile long jogging trail, Nick settled down to a stiff walk from his earlier bat-out-of-hell thirty mile per hour pace. Walk it off, cool down, and relax. The trail ended up by another of the small lakes scattered around this section of the City, and after a few minutes cool down, the fox found a shaded spot near the water and settled down to rest – his legs, his body, and his eyes.

Mid Afternoon

It had seemed only like a few minutes, but when he checked his smartphone for the time, Nick found that he'd drifted off to sleep for an hour and a half. He checked his wallet, then his belt pouch; the few possessions he'd brought with him on his run were still present, undisturbed. He took a deep breath, both through nose and mouth. No sign of the scent of a vixen – so I lucked out completely, he thought, as he dug out another pair of nose filters, stripped off the Mylar covers, and inserted them. Safe. Uncomfortable, perhaps. But safe. Now what was that phrase that Bigbrush used? "Like armor that scalds with safety"? Something like that. I'll have to check it on the Net … later. And … back into the battle, for a few minutes at least.

The Mystic Spring Oasis

Nick strode in through the entrance and turned to face Yax, who was standing behind the counter, chanting. "Yax, my man, how goes it?"

"Oooooooooohmmmmmmmm, Oooooooooohmmmmmmmm…"

Nick chuckled and moved closer, pulling out a twenty and a ten. "I have something that you might like, Yax… hello?"

"Oooooooooohmmmmmmmm, Oooooooooohmmmmmmmm…"

He waved the two bills directly under the yak's muzzle, and chanted a counterpoint to the hippie yak's chant, "moneyyyyyyyy, monnnnneeeeyyyyy, monnnneeeeeeeyyyyy, hello, Yax!"

"You know, I want to hit the pause button again…" Yax began.

"A month's membership was, if I recall correctly, thirty dollars. So, how about enrolling one Nicholas Piberius Wilde – me – in your little association?" Nick said, continuing to wave the money under the yak's muzzle.

Yax sneezed, shook his head (scattering a cloud of insects). "What would a member of Zootopia's finest – out of uniform, I see – have in our little establishment? Everything we do here is quite legal…"

"Understood. I want to purchase a month's membership. And unless your rates have gone up of late…"

Yax shook his head, and another cloud of insects rose up around him. "You know that we prefer not to have…"

"Mammals wearing clothes inside the compound, yes."

Yax shrugged. "We provide lockers and locks – you'd be expected to store your clothes and any valuables in the locker through that door," he said, pointing out the locker door.

"Fine. A lock, and … any membership card?"

"Oh, I think I'll remember who you are … though where is that cute little bunny that was with you … oh … it must be close to two years ago? The one who I thought was a bunny scout, but was actually a ZPD officer."

"She's not with me – and that's a good reason for me to be here. I need a bit of 'alone' time, and I think this would be the perfect place for it," Nick said, resting the two bills on the counter, and turning towards the lockers. "But you might improve the ventilation in here, Yax. The smell of the burning leaves is not from incense, and I would just as soon not take 'official notice' if you get my meaning," he said, as he walked over to the locker room.

#

Nick settled into the Jacuzzi with a contented sigh. The water was just the right temperature – neither too hot, nor too cool, and the leaves from the artificial tree provided just the perfect amount of dappled shade. I don't even need dark glasses here. I should have thought of this as a hiding place ages ago. He closed his eyes, and settled deeper into the water until only his nose stuck out of the steaming water.

#

Someone else was sliding into the pool; Nick popped his head up out of the warm bubbly water and shook himself. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision, before he gave up and rubbed his eyes in an attempt to clear them. Still half blind, he took a deep breath in through his nose and the scent of a familiar vixen, mixed with the steam of the Jacuzzi, drove into the back of his throat. He coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the pheromonal laden air.

"Not a bad imitation of a beached whale, Nick," a familiar vixen said. "Do you need any help?"

Nick finished clearing his eyes and trying (unsuccessfully) to clear his lungs of Edda's scent. "And just what are you doing here, Edda?" He carefully looked away from the vixen, thankful that the bubbles from the Jacuzzi's air jets obscured the view of the vixen's lower body.

"I could ask you the same thing, Nick. But do you mean here, in the Mystic Spring Oasis, or here in the Jacuzzi in Mystic Spring Oasis?" Edda said.

"Both?"

"Ah, so curious. Well, I bought a membership a couple of weeks back, when I started to get the 'itch'. And the Jacuzzi is a nice way to … relax … as well as reduce certain other stresses that develop with this time of the year. And looking away from someone with whom you are having a conversation – we are having a conversation aren't we? – is considered rude 'back home' in Podunk."

Nick took a deep, calming breath. "I'm trying not to be tempted, Edda."

Edda laughed. "Well, it's nice to know that I'm at least a temptation, Nick. I was almost beginning to think that I'd lost all appeal to tods. And considering what my body is doing right now – that was something of an emotional 'kick in the tail'. You do like my tail, don't you?" Edda said, as she lifted her brush up between her legs. With the fur of her tail waterlogged, it was more of a slender rod than its usual bushy brush.

Nick turned back to face the vixen. "Yes, I do. But considering what your scent is doing to me right now, I think I'll be on my own way…"

"Sure you wouldn't want to stay and enjoy this? It's warmer over on my side of the pool …"

"I think it's warm enough where I am. Now, would you please face away while I get out?"

"Afraid that I'll see something that I've not seen before? Well, Nick, in the interest of keeping your ears from flushing too much…" she paused, and turned her head away. "You can get out now, and I won't ogle you too much…"

Nick turned, put both paws on the side of the Jacuzzi and vaulted out onto the cement.

"You have nice buns," Edda called out to the rapidly retreating tod.

Nick's Apartment

"Come on, Fluff, answer your blasted phone!" Nick growled. Just please answer, he thought. Please!

"You've reached the phone of Judith Hopps, I'm not available at the moment, but if you leave your …" Hopps' voice mail message began, and Nick broke the connection with a stab of the claw from his middle finger. A single heartfelt "damn" escaped the vulpine's lips.

He checked the time. Now, where could she be? There wasn't any paperwork that couldn't wait until the morning, and she hadn't mentioned any get togethers. So, go for her apartment – maybe she might be in there.

Judy's Apartment, Twenty Minutes Later

Nick took the stairs three at a time up to the bunny's floor. At the top of the stairs, he paused for a moment to catch his breath and let his heart rate drop. Not bad, he thought, at least this running is doing some good.

A few steps further, and he was at the rabbit's apartment; when there was no response to the first four knocks he began pounding on the door with both fists. "Are you in there, Fluff? Come on, Carrots, answer if you're home!" he yelled, to be answered by yells from the next apartment over.

"Go away, Fox! She's sleeping! And so were we – be quiet!"

"Now you woke me up," a second voice bellowed from the same apartment.

"ZPD, shut up the both of you!" Nick bellowed in return, and resumed pounding on Judy's apartment door. He pounded, but he also listened carefully between bouts of pounding; after several minutes, he heard someone (or something) moving about inside the apartment.

"I can hear you, Fluff. Come on, open the door, please?" he said, in far more conversational tones.

The deadbolt slid back, the door chain clinked and tinkled as it swung back and forth, and the door creaked open. A bleary eyed bunny looked up at the fox. "Wha?" Her nose twitched, then her muzzle wrinkled. "Just what have you been up to, Nick?" she said, finally coming fully awake. "Come in, there's only the bed to sit on…but you're welcome…"

"To sit on the floor, I know," Nick said, as he strode in and settled down next to the lapine doe's small desk. He reached over and patted the desk chair.

Judy closed and relocked the door, and reset the chain before stumbling over to and settling into her desk chair. "Ok, foxie, what's the problem? You smell … odd."

"It's called being 'scent drunk'. I was … somewhere … and I thought I was safe. But a certain vixen…"

Judy reached over and took the fox's muzzle in her paws. "Did she do something to you?"

"Other than scrambling my senses with her scent? No. But I have no doubt that she would have liked to have done more."

"Did she step over the line on 'conduct becoming', Nick?" Judy asked, letting the fox's muzzle go, reluctantly.

"No … it's just that I wanted to be with you …" he managed to say, before his voice broke.

Judy took the fox's head in her paws again, and pulled him close. "You foxes … so emotional."