"Okay, okay, my turn," giggled Fangmeyer, taking a sip from her fourth coffee for the night.
"Never have I ever… gotten with an old school crush."
The pair both put their arms up, giggling at each other like schoolgirls.
"Alright Frankie, ladies first!" said Fangmeyer, playfully knocking her much larger friend in the shoulder.
"Yeah, a lady is what I am and you aren't. Well back in Elementary, there was this giraffe that all the girls liked. I think he could run really fast and that was pretty much it, but it really didn't matter at the time. Fast forward to the end of Junior year and this guy, who's jumped up a year invites me to his Prom of all mammals. So after a pretty sweet night, I invite him back to mine for some, uh, 'tongue lashing'. Let me be the first to say that a prehensile tongue is better than anything you'll ever think of," declared Francine a blush on her proud face.
Nodding her head in approval, Fangmeyer began to applaud her.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind next time I see one I fancy. Well for me, I had a crush on this little wolf called Sammy Lycen. He was so short compared to the other wolves, but he could play soccer something fierce. This was back when I was practically a twig so I didn't catch his fancy at the time, but he was one of the reasons I decided to bulk up and make him like me. Few years later, before I joined the force, I met him at a bar. I took him out back and we had a bit of a make-out session before he turned around, vomited into a dumpster and passed out beside it," Fangmeyer explained, holding her head in happy embarrassment.
"Ew, and I bet that was your last attempt at dating before I set you up with that lion, huh?" inquired Francine
"Yep, just couldn't think of why I'd need some shmuck when I could just work my arse off and retire young with a cigar in my mouth, just like in the movies," explained the proud tiger, fists on hips.
"Oh come on, surely you want that someone to hold you as you sleep and to come home to after a long day?"
"I guess, but I've got Mick for that. All that, and the benefit of just being friends."
"Just friends?" inquired Francine, ears open and alert. "Fangy, you two are practically married; he even cooks for you most nights! He's your househusband! Wait, and did you also say he's held you to sleep? This is getting juicy, babe; tell me more!"
"It's not like that Frankie, it's platonic. And he most assuredly did NOT hold me to sleep…" said Fangmeyer, mumbling incoherently.
"I'm sorry Fangy, what was that?" asked Francine, moving her ear towards the furiously blushing tiger. "You'll have to speak up."
"I said he didn't hold me, I held him…" repeated Fangmeyer, hiding her face in her hands from sheer embarrassment.
"Fangy I'm not even going to tease you for that one just because it's so precious. You've got to stop teasing the poor guy and take him out somewhere nice, it's the least he deserves after cooking for your lazy tail for so long," said Francine, laying her trunk over Fangmeyer's shoulders.
"Whatever, fine. But it'll be a friendly thing! Not sure I really want to just hop into a relationship right now," Fangmeyer muttered.
"Fangy, I know it's hard for you to even consider this sort of thing, but just put it this way; if you keep putting it off, it's never going to happen and you're going to be like Ms Bertrand."
"That old goat who calls us every time she loses track of her birdhouse?"
"The very same. Poor dear stayed single all her life because she tried proving a point. Now she has fifteen birds. Do you want fifteen birds, Fang?"
Thinking for a moment, Fangmeyer replied.
"I eat that many in a week, so yes, please."
"I know a guy who can organise that for you," said Francine, eyebrows and ears wobbling suggestively.
"NEVER HAVE I EVER TOLD MY PARTNER TO GO FUCK HERSELF," screamed the red and furious tiger, shooting her paw up, only to punch the roof and wince in pain.
The elephant only chuckled good-naturedly, patting the tiger in the back with her trunk, continuing their game.
Hours had passed since they had started their night vigil, only briefly spotting other mammals. It was a surprisingly meditative time for Fangmeyer: just watching the more nocturnal mammals go about their business, and some younger diurnal mammals enjoy their night together, doing as kids do. The pair had brought along a quiet speaker for music and they decided to pass the time with games. It was honestly a quite enjoyable night for her, despite the fact they were out to get a weapons dealer.
Their night had been largely uneventful, save for Fangmeyer's outburst, but just as the clock ticked over to 2AM, the apartment complex doors they had been stalking began to open, revealing a suspicious-looking lion wearing a hoodie. As soon as she noticed him, Fangmeyer quickly checked the dossier, confirming that this was indeed their mark.
"Francine!" Fangmeyer hissed, tapping the elephant on the ribs, "That's our guy! That's the mark!"
Nodding, Francine waited for the lion to turn a corner before starting the engine. Taking note on which street the lion turned, the pair followed a minute behind him, corner after corner until they reached Downtown, where the lion had turned down an alley. Taking the initiative, Francine pulled over on the other side of the road, just ahead enough to glimpse his conversation with a short, portly and hooded figure. As Fangmeyer began to call the SWAT team, Francine noticed that the lion passed a small package to the figure, no larger than a loaf of bread before the figure dashed off. Barely a minute after finishing her call, the blaring call of a squad of police cruisers and trucks roared throughout the night, signalling the arrival of the ZPD. Almost jumping out of his pelt, Grover Johns, the gun running CEO, fell to his knees as multiple armoured elephants, rhinos and tigers stalked up from both sides of the alleyway.
As the pair watched the lion struggle against the iron grips of the officers guiding him into the truck, a tired-looking Chief Bogo approached them, a tray of coffees in hand. Passing one to each and taking one for himself, he sighed in content.
"Well done, officers. Johns is in irons and the Mayor is no longer breathing down my neck. I want you two to have the next two days off. Paid, of course."
As Fangmeyer simply raised her cup in gratitude before taking large gulps, Francine bowed her head slightly in thanks.
"We appreciate it Chief. Have a good night," was all the tired elephant said before nudging the gently nodding tiger in the head with her trunk.
"You want a lift, Stripy?"
Taking a long, deep breath through her nose and dragging a paw down her face, Fangmeyer finally shook her head.
"Nah, this coffee is going to kick in soon, and I'd like to work it off so I can actually sleep properly tonight. I'm not too far away, so I'll walk, I reckon."
"Yawn. Yeah that's fair; big girl like you'll have a hard time getting jumped. See you when I'm awake in two days time," said Francine groggily as she headed back to her car.
Tigers may be diurnal, but Fangmeyer found that she quite enjoyed a stroll at night (not that she'd ever go out of her way to do so). Walking past the occasional wolf, fox and even a bat, Fangmeyer loved to visit this 'alternate' Zootopia, with the pulsing neon lights of nearby bars and clubs and the soft, warm glow of small diners. This was the side of Zootopia very few diurnal mammals got to see and, while it wasn't exactly an incredible sight, the cosiness it exuded warmed Fangmeyer's belly.
Turning the corner onto her street, she saw what looked like a small wolf drinking from a bottle the size of its head, sitting down with its back against the wall of her complex. Getting closer, she could make out the canine's muzzle fur braids. Mick Warre was taking enormous gulps from a bottle of dark liquor just outside her home.
"Mick?!" Fangmeyer gasped, shocked to see her friend in such a state.
"Aa-hey Fangy!" slurred the dingo, eyes blinking out of sync and words slowly enunciated; he was blitzed.
"What're you doing here? Gods, your breath reeks! How much did you have?" she asked, holding a paw to her face to ward off the stench of alcohol permeating from the dishevelled canine.
"I, well, my co-workers and myself finally make some reeeeal good progress with our research and development with the Nighthowlers. So we all went out to celebrate. I just decided to keep the party going, and checked to see if you were home, realised I have no way in, but this wall got really comfortable so here I am!" Mick slurred, head swaying gently as he spoke.
"Mick, is it really wise to keep on drinking like this? You're absolutely plastered! You could do some serious damage to your liver," Fangmeyer pleaded, her giant paw on his cheek, trying to still his head.
"Nah, not like my liver could get any more scarred," he said, eyes closed as he gestured a paw like it meant nothing.
Fangmeyer froze in her place.
"Scarred? Mick, don't make out like that isn't serious, that could lead to liver failure, or even worse!"
"Fangy, Fangy… It's fine, won't do me any harm. I've not gotten any worse since I got stabbed," he slurred, smile beginning to waver.
Fangmeyer's eyes widened in shock, she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Mick that was four months ago and you only found out then? We've had so much drink since then! You need to stop right now!" Demanded Fangmeyer, snatching the bottle of rum out of his limp paw and throwing it to the gutter, letting it slowly leak out.
"What the fuck, Fang?! That was mine!" Mick argued. "I told you, I'm fine! If it hasn't killed me yet, it won't for a very long time!"
"Long time? Long time? Mick you've caused possibly irreparable damage to a vital organ; I've seen too many cases that ended up as corpses from the exact same issue. I refuse to let you wind up in a morgue!"
Fangmeyer was yelling at this point, anger beginning to override her worry. This couldn't stand.
"Fang…" said Mick slowly, carefully. "I'll be fine, I won't let this kill me."
'Won't let it kill him,' this was all that rang through her mind. 'Let.'
"Won't let it kill you?! Mick that's that dumbest thing I've ever heard! This isn't something you allow! Don't give me that shit!"
Shaking his head slowly, a frown on his face, Mick sighed.
"Just believe me Fang, OK?"
"I refuse," was all she said, the venom evident in her voice.
"Why's that?"
"I've heard that lie too often and have seen the results too frequently!"
Silence permeated the air as the pair stared at each other with glazed eyes. Soon enough, the rum caught up with Mick as he slowly drifted off to sleep. Seeing this, the tiger, reached for her phone, called a Zuber and directed the driver to wake him up when he got there. As the car zoomed off towards the rainforest district, the tiger punched the brick wall next to her as hard as she dared, leaving her knuckles bleeding gently. Slowly, she made her way to her apartment, wiping her eyes as she did so.