"What is love?"

The question was innocuous as it was broad, yet the Fox in the passenger seat look like he had been tasered. He startled, relax posture gone and replaced with a stiffened back and tail puffed out. It was only a moment, but Reggie's glance caught all of it. The Weasel sighed, "Its fine if you don't want to talk about it." The mustela's relationship with Sheri was going well, but something was missing. There would be times where he would look at the raccoon, and this longing would pull at him. Reggie would usually wrap his arms around the procyon or give her a kiss, or something else that she thought was sweet. Sheri would smile, or kiss him or any number of things that made the Weasel's heart pound, but each time it felt like something was left unsaid. This feeling led the young officer to delve deep into what it meant to be in love, only for his ideas to come up terribly short.

"No, no," started Wilde, a paw rubbing his chin, "It's slow enough and well...we've already talked about everything else."

Reggie frowned, his paws resting on the bottom of the steering wheel and a paw tapping on the gas. It had been a month since he first started patrolling full time once more, yet crime seemed to have dissipated. There was still the speeder or domestic dispute to break up, even one call about teens loitering, but it seemed that the hardened criminals had taken the month off. Even the side case of the Warehouse fire the partner's worked off the books didn't seem to have anymore leads. The Weasel was itching to prove himself again, but it didn't seem possible at the moment.

"Don't you have anyone else you can talk to about this?" The Fox hesitantly asked.

The mustela snorted and rolled his eyes, "Who in my family is in a relationship?" He turned to the vulpine officer, "Who out of our co-workers would you want to talk to about this?"

Wilde grimaced, "Clawhauser would die of cuteness overload...Snarlov would give terrible advice...Where is Grizzoli?"

"Dunno," Reggie replied, "If not I would ask him."

The older officer hummed in thought, rubbing his eyes with his paws. "...Hopps..."

"Which brings me back to you," finished the young officer, "Love lives aren't sprouting up around me."

"I don't know about that," responded the Fox with a smug grin, "I'm not doing badly!" The mustela let Wilde's words quietly sink in. "...Ah damn..."

The Weasel chuckled, "Which brings me-"

"-back to me. I get it. I get it." The vulpine sighed, and then huffed. "This is just...so personal for us."

"I know," Reggie agreed with a curt nod, "Which is why if you don't want too, we don't have too."

"No...No, sounds like you're in a rut and need some help." The young mammal turned to listen to the older officer. Wilde's muzzle opened and closed, his paws gesturing silently as he struggled to find the right words. His eyes went wide and a broad grin broke out, seeming victorious in his mental struggle. Before the vulpine spoke, the cruiser's radio kicked to life.

"All available cruisers respond to possible arson at One, One, One, Two, Five, Napier Lane."

"Oh Hallelujah," muttered the Fox. He cleared his throat and spoke a little too loud, "Looks like duty calls cue, let's get a move on!"

Reggie turned the key in the ignition and switched gears with his paw on the break as the engine roared to life. "You're going to answer my question Wilde," the Weasel warned with a heated glare, "one way or another."

"Hooray..." Wilde let out weakly.

The young officer turned back to the task at paw. "Light 'em up!"


The partners pushed the twenty minute drive to half that time, the Fox digging his claws into the armrest as the Weasel sped through the street of Savannah Central. Even before they reached their destination, billowing black smoke could be seen in the distance.

"What happened?" whispered the vulpine officer in awe.

Reggie grimaced and tightened his grip on the steering wheel, claws digging into the rubber. The location that had been radioed in had several apartment complexes. Normally calls to them were over someone burning their dinner, but it never caused this much smoke. The mustela pushed the petal to the metal.

When the officers arrived, the Zootopia Fire Department was already on the scene. The firefighters were trying to contain a blaze that engulfed a seven story brick apartment. Smoke poured out of broken windows as flames blazed on the bottom floors. Mammals stood around watching and cars continued to drive by, rubbernecking and slowing traffic. Eventually they stopped, unable to move any further from the congestion. The vulpine grabbed the radio and pushed the call button.

"This is car Fifty Four, we're stuck southbound of the apartment on Napier lane, standing by for further instructions."

"Hey Nick! Sergeant Higgins is on the scene and is directing officers," replied Clawhauser, "Switch over to frequency three A."

"That's a big Ten Four Spots," Wilde drawled with a smug grin, "Me and Smoky will make the switch." He turned to the Weasel, with sly raise of his brow, "Course I'm Bandit!"

"I don't even know what that means." retorted the confused young officer, "Can you just switch over and find out our orders?"

The Fox huffed and muttered something about "uncultured Weasels." He turned the knob to the correct frequency and pushed to talk once again. "This is car Fifty Four for Sergeant Higgins. See you're having a barbeque and decided to swing by."

"Mammals are in the building, Wilde," reproached the Hippo.

Reggie's eyes went wide and he caught a glimpse of Wilde flinching and his ears pinning back.

"...Sorry Sarge won't happen again."

"Don't have time to deal with you anyway. Location?"

"Southbound on Napier Lane, a block down at most, but we're stuck in traffic sir."

"Fine…block off your way, your cruiser should be the only one from that direction. I'll send Fangmeyer and Wolford down on paw when they arrive, copy?"

"Crystal, sir."

"And Wilde?"

The Fox flinched again, hesitant to respond. "...Yes Sergeant?"

"Leave the stand up at home."

"Right, sir." The vulpine hung the radio back up and ran a paw over his eyes.

"You alright?" asked Reggie, turning the engine for the cruiser off.

"I can't believe I made a barbeque joke...," mumbled Wilde, "...I wasn't even thinking."

The Weasel shrugged, "Not your best moment...but you'll bounce back."

The older officer cast a suspicious glance at the younger. "You're being awfully nice, when normally you'd jump at the opportunity to let me have it."

Reggie shrugged again, "I'll lay into after you answer my question." The Weasel grinned wickedly, "And trust me, I'm gonna think of something!" Wilde groaned and rolled his eyes. "Now! Let's focus on clearing the street." The mustela opened his door and slid out. The officers would need to tape off the intersection, clear mammals behind it, and start directing traffic to alternate routes. Looking out through the forest of mammals that were milling about, the young officer had a sinking feeling this wasn't going to be easy.

"Ok..." whispered the mustela, "...just got to convince mammals twice my height and up to listen and get behind an arbitrary line." He rolled his shoulders, "I can do this!" The young officer opened his muzzle to start giving orders, when he paused. He reached behind him and yanked out his baton. "This should help," he muttered as he pressed the baton's button.

"Alright!" shouted Reggie, waving his arms and baton, "Step back! Nothing to see here! Move behind the cruiser!" The Weasel wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was surprised how many mammals listened to his instructions.


With both of the smaller officers' efforts, they were able to push most of the mammals past the cruiser. When Fangmeyer and Wolford's arrived, they were able to set up some tape and convince the last of the stubborn civilians to back up. The four officers were posted at four points with the tape being hung between two parked cars. The Tiger stood on the right sidewalk facing the crowd and the Wolf on the left. Reggie and Wilde stood between the cars, making sure that no one tried to slip past into a possibly dangerous situation. Eventually the cars ahead of their cruiser were directed through, some of the small mammal cars being directed to the sidewalk to expedite the process. The mustela didn't know much about fighting fires, but it looked as though the Z.P.D. was winning its fight. There was still smoke, but not as thick, and the fire appeared to be dwindling on the bottom floors. Several ambulances and paramedics were on the scene, administering first aid and oxygen to the residents of the building.

Reggie watched the continued drama play out, and couldn't help feeling sullen. These mammals were lucky enough to escape with their lives, but now find themselves homeless and their possessions destroyed. Lives could be rebuilt, but memories were harder to replace. The Weasel's thoughts were interrupted by the change in the wind. It stopped blowing from the north and a gust snuck up from the south. With it came a familiar scent, though one he hadn't smelled since his last fire, Rabbit.

The mustela stiffed, and the breeze disappeared just as easily as it came. He wanted to turn and chase down the lapine, but stopped with gritted teeth. The young officer didn't remember seeing any Rabbits when they first pushed the crowd back, which meant that the suspect may have just joined. Any sudden moves and Reggie could lose his element of surprise. He walked calmly over to his partner, Wilde still surveying the crowd, and stood next to him facing the fire. "Hey Wilde...I smell our Rabbit."

"Pretty weird you're calling Carrots Our Rabbit Cue," warned the Fox.

"No!" hissed the Weasel, trying his best not to raise suspicion, "Not Hopps...our Rabbit from the Warehouse!" He glanced up at the vulpine and saw an emerald eye fixed onto him from behind aviators. "He's here."

Wilde yawned, arms going up wide as he stretched up. He planted his paws on his sides and stretched back. "Are you sure?" whispered the older officer.

Reggie cracked his neck and folded his arms, "I smell him..."

The Fox straightened up, lazily scratching his chest. "Why don't you go check on Fangmeyer," spoke Wilde a little louder, "See how she's holding up."

The mustela barely nodded before heading in the Tiger's direction. When he arrived at where the feline is, he turned quickly into the crowd. If she saw him, Fangmeyer didn't voice it. The smaller mammal walked forward, slipping between mammals' legs and in between pairs with none the wiser. Reggie knew on an instinctual level that if he was going to catch his quarry, than he would need to get down wind. While Rabbits didn't have the best noses, the mixture of other past Weasel prey and general odors from other citizens played havoc on Reggie's nose. He needed to get higher, above the fog of stench.

The young officer spotted the trunk of a thin tree and grimaced. Weasels could climb, but were no way graceful at it. Still Reggie trudged over to the plant, and dug his claws into the bark. He pulled up, with his hind paw claws digging as well. "Easier than Rainforest," the mustela thought bitterly, "Or the Academy for that matter..." He continued to climb, latching on with his paws and then shimmy his bottom half up. His belt pulled down and the muscles in his chest burned from the extra weight. Back on the beat Reggie may have been, but he still wasn't in the shape he used to be. Finally he pulled up to a branch that could support his weight.

Reggie smiled triumphantly, looking out onto the crowd, only for his vision to be blocked by the neck of a Giraffe. He couldn't help but frown; all that work and mammals were still higher than him. The Weasel shook his head and tried to focus. Closing his eyes, the mustela breathed in and tried to locate the Rabbit. He breathed in again and again...until finally he caught a whiff. It was faint, but pulled the officer to the right side of the crowd. In that area was a herd of Wildebeest, all wearing running shorts and headbands.

"If I were to hide..."

Reggie slid down the tree, his belt and shirt catching on the bark, and made it to the ground. He moved faster this time, dodging out of mammals with the skill came with living in the city. Before he reached the gathered herd, he stopped and tried to breathe normally. The officer's panting could be heard by a Rabbit, so he needed to calm down. Slowly, the Weasel made his way through the legs of the herd, following his nose as the scent grew stronger. Eventually the mustela saw his prey.

A male Rabbit, no older than thirty five wearing what at first glance looked like a business suit. The black and white of suit would normally suggest middle management, but the burns on the cuffs and soot on the heels of the lapine spoke of other work. The suspect was staring through the herd, to the visible fire of the apartment. He hadn't noticed the sneaking officer with his ears pointed forward.

The Weasel was close, carefully maneuvering through the Wildebeest herd. He was a few feet away, when one of the larger mammals shifted and bumped into him. Reggie stumbled right. "Sorry, Officer," mumbled the herbivore, but the young mammal wasn't looking up. He was looking wide eyed straight ahead into wide, brown eyes. Before the mustela had taken one more step, the lapine bolted.

Reggie chased after, dodging incoming mammals as the buck sprinted away. He could barely see the Rabbit, just the flick of his tail every now and then. The Weasel almost ran under an Elephant's step, but dived out of the way to avoid it. When he rose, head whipping back and forth, there was no sight of buck. The scent was still fresh, with Reggie's heavy breathing sucking a lungful each time. Now it was a matter of luck. He continued to follow his nose. The officer keyed his radio, "This is officer Weaselton. I'm in pursuit of a suspect."

"What's your location?" radioed back Sergeant Higgins.

The Weasel frowned as he looked about, but couldn't find any signs or landmarks to confirm his location. "Unknown," replied the young officer, "I'm south on Napier."

"Affirmative, hold your position till back up arrives."

Reggie stopped dead. His nostrils flared as the scent grew older as indecision caused his hesitation. If the Weasel waited for back-up, than the perp could be long gone, but if he didn't wait, than he would have to deal with a possibly dangerous suspect on his own. The officer's resolve hardened with his gaze. He grimaced as he made his decision. "Coming in broken...repeat your command."

"I said hol-"

Reggie turned off his radio and doubled his pace. He would deal with consequences later.


The mustela continued to follow the trail as it weaved in and around crowd. It was becoming apparent to the Weasel that the suspect was trying to throw the officer off his trail. This wasn't unusual as the Rabbit was being followed, but did suggest the lapine wanted to stay in the area. Eventually the scent came to an alley with a concrete wall blocking the other end. There were several large dumpsters, over turned cardboard boxes and a mattress leaning against the farthest wall. All of these lend themselves to perfect hiding places for small mammals, and the smell of rotting garbage masked the buck's position.

The young officer brought out his tranq pistol and raised the weapon. He stepped cautiously into the alley. The Weasel glanced about nervously, the fur on his tail standing on end, as he looked for any sign of movement. He breathed deeply and his face scrunched instinctively as the smell of decay filled his lungs. Reggie coughed in the crux of his arm, eyes only closing for a second. He heard a clatter and his head whipped towards the noise just in time for a glass bottle to connect with his muzzle. The young officer staggered into the opposite wall dazed by the blow. A defiant scream followed by a blow to the Weasel's forearm forced Reggie to drop his pistol.

The officer was leaned heavily against the wall, arm still stinging, and brought his other arm up to defend. The Rabbit was armed with an unbroken bottle, the green glass shining in the light, with a vicious glint in his eye. The lapine jumped forward screaming, swinging the bottle overhead at the Weasel.

Reggie rolled right and away from the wall. The sound of shattering glass told him that the buck hit the wall. He stepped right and jumped left, rolling to face his attacker on one knee. The lapine held the bottle by the handle with both paws, like some cheap suit samurai. The young officer held his right arm close to his chest and reached to his lower back. With practiced ease, and quiet gratitude to Snarlov, the Weasel whipped out the baton and extended it in one swift motion. "Sir, you are wanted for questioning for at least two arson fires," spoke Reggie deliberately, pushing down the growing need to smile, "please put down the bottle and come with me peacefully."

The Rabbit threw his head back and laughed, "Looks like you should drop your weapon, Officer!"

"I can't do that," the mustela retorted, the corners of his mouth twitching, "make this easy and come in quietly."

"Not gonna happen!" shouted the Rabbit. He lunged forward, covering the distance between the mammals rapidly. With the bottle in both paws, he swung from left to right.

Reggie turned sideways, planting his left hind paw and sweeping the right back. He locked his left elbow close to his body and kept the baton ramrod straight in front of him. The improvised weapon made contact with the rod, shattering against the metal. Shards of glass stuck to the Weasel's uniform as he reached with right paw to clasp the handle. With a turn of his hips, Reggie swung the baton into the face of the surprised buck.

Even from a short distance, the pole slammed into the bridge of the lapine's snout. A fountain of blood shot from a nostril as he stumbled backwards. The buck fell flat on his back, his bravado gone as he brought his paws up to his nose and writhed his pain. "You broke my nose!"

Reggie shrugged, panting as he held his right arm close. "Should have made it easy on yourself."