A/N: Late night/early morning update. At least for me it is. Eh. Enjoy!
"Let's not talk about it again, okay Jack?" Nick pleaded, growing tired with the conversation. Jack had been very adamant that they search for their clothes as soon as they got spares from the precinct.
Nick had been less enthusiastic, until he remembered that his phone had been in his pants. When they did find their clothes, they were discarded in some random street a few blocks from the house they had commandeered.
But still, two days of research later, Jack kept bringing the conversation back round to their drunken night. Nick just wanted to forget. Jack was worried about the blanks in their night, and Nick was too. Although for different reasons. Jack was scared of how many laws they might have broken.
Nick was scared about what he and Jack had potentially done. So every time the event was brought up, he attempted to shrug it off, "I just think you should let me go through your phone. Try to put some times and interactions onto a timeline."
"Jack. We've only known each other for three days, I'm not letting you go through my phone, and I'm definitely not giving you my password," Nick sighed, examining the file on Weaselton. No outstanding warrants, not a single one for quite a few months. That was a good enough red flag in his head, "Do we have a file on Turlington? I'd like to take a look at his police run ins over the past few-"
Jack raised a paw, a more serious look on his face than normal. His features no longer held their relaxed composure, "Your password is Carrots, Nick."
Nick was taken aback, "How did you...," The fox shook his head, "I don't care, I'm not giving you my phone. There's personal stuff on there, stuff I don't exactly trust you with."
The rabbit narrowed his eyes a bit, turning around and hunting for the file he had pulled earlier. Nick watched him, slightly confused that he'd drop the subject so quick. When Jack had found what he had been looking for, he threw it too Nick. A bit too hard.
The file hit the fox in the face, before opening and spilling the few papers in it across the floor. Nick was a bit surprised by the roughness of his partner, and quirked an eyebrow, "Something on your mind, champ?"
When he didn't receive a response, Nick crouched down and picked up the papers. When he had organized them loosely, he began examining them.
Spotless record, but multiple charges they couldn't make stick. Lost evidence, dead witnesses, government officials suspected of bribery. Downright corruption. Nick was a little disgusted by it, especially because of how heinous the crimes were. He was a predator, in the physical and criminal way. Some o the reports made him want to vomit.
"Okay, this is definitely our prime suspect. We find a way to get this guy talking, I have a strong feeling we get the whole crew," Nick said, still struggling not to spit on the file, "This is one twisted coyote."
Jack looked him directly in the eyes, "I have an idea of how to get him to confess. Not exactly a ZPD method. A method I learned from an old friend, a fox actually. You kind of look like him."
Nick was a little skeptical, but decided that if there was a chance they could shut this thing down sooner, he'd take it, "First we have to find him. Apparently, he's a very hard mammal to find."
"Shouldn't take long," Jack slid a pair of sunglasses onto his face, and walked out of the room. Nick followed him slowly, absentmindedly straightening his uniform's tie, before the bunny stopped spun around, "Keys?"
Nick tossed Jack the cruiser's keys, which he deftly swiped from the air. The fox continued towards the garage, after having caught up more with Jack. A thick silence settled between them, and Nick wasn't content with it.
"Jack," Nick sighed. Why did he always end up being guilt tripped by bunnies? "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just...I can't read you very well."
Entering the car through the passenger's door, receiving only the base acknowledgment of a sharp nod. Nick didn't like it, but continued anyways, "I always have a good read on people, Jack. You aren't exactly the best at disguising your feelings or anything like that. But I still can't read you. That makes me uneasy."
"Clearly, your drunken self doesn't feel that way. That's where I got your password, or didn't that cross your mind?"Jack's voice had lowered slightly, barely above a whisper. His accent was coming through more, making Nick's brain go into overtime to understand overtime just to catch every word, "Apparently, your cock doesn't feel the same way either."
Nick had been about to continue his apology, but clamped his jaw shut. His prior opinion of this new face erased, he focused more on his motto. Jack would not get to him, "Just get us to Turlington. I want to put these fucks behind bars as soon as possible," And get away from this as soon as possible.
Jack started the car, and sped out of the lot. Nick made a mental note of the way Jack gripped the wheel. He was holding it tightly. Very tightly. Even through the fur Nick could tell the blood was leaving his knuckles.
"Easy there, Stripes. You'll hurt yourself," Nick disguised his concern with a touch of sarcasm, hoping Jack would take his warning seriously. Had one conversation really affected the bunny that much? Sure, he had made jokes about bunnies and their overactive emotions, but this took the cake.
When Jack nearly drove into another car, Nick decided he had had enough, "Jack, pull over. I'm not letting you kill us both because I was insensitive."
Jack didn't listen, but slowed down a bit. Settling for that, the fox opened his phone, checking for messages. Only one, from Finnick: "You'll find Turlington in the back room of the gas station on 5th and Flanders. He's usually there from 12 to 8pm."
Of course that's a rough translation, as Finnick never truly saw the point of a grammatically correct text. Nick showed Jack the address, and the rabbit nodded in response, "I told you, I have my own sources. Or do you not trust those, either?"
The fox groaned, "Jack, let it go. You can't get mad at me for not fully trusting a mysterious agent I've known for literally three days. Not only is it a rational thing to do, it's what I've been doing all my life. You get hurt when you trust blindly."
Jack tightened his grip a bit again, "But we had that night, we got drunk together. We bothered people at horrendous hours. We broke laws."
"And what I remember of it was fun," Nick whispered, "But even that was the first day I had met you. To make matters worse, not only is their a huge time gap, but we woke up naked together. Friends don't usually do that, especially not a friend they just met."
Jack turned to look at him, glaring hard, "Are you implying that I took advantage of you? That I raped you?"
"Jesus, Jack! No," Nick exclaimed, "Just that we hadn't known each other for more than 24 hours and we had already fucked...potentially."
Nick was caught up in these huge leaps of thought, unsure how one mammal could misunderstand him so easily, "Look, Jack. Can we finish this conversation after we've interrogated the suspect? Pretty sure the safety of Zootopians takes precedence."
Jack nodded, and soon they were pulling into the parking lot. Hopefully this was a string they could tug. Nick was hopeful, and Jack was certain. Nick borrowed some of that obvious confidence, and followed the rabbit into the store.
As they entered, the sharp smell of ether hit his nose and a sweet taste filled his mouth. The dizzy feeling staggered the fox, eyes shutting tight in the hopes of regaining his bearings as he felt like he had fallen.
Nick wasn't expecting the rabbit to pull a gun and shoot the store clerk. And the three mammals who ran from the back room. Luckily, none of them were the target. Nick watched Jack change the sign to closed, and couldn't stop himself, "Jack, what the fuck?" The ether smell was forgotten as blood overtook it.
"We handled Finnick your way, partner, let me do this my way," Jack stepped over the bodies, and Nick followed. The stench of death and blood almost made him sick.
"This isn't what I had in mind when I agreed to this," Nick pulled his own gun, following after Jack. They entered the back room, spotting the coyote seated at a table. They had clearly been playing poker. A memory of their drunken night was called to mind.
A casino, and some misplaced cash. Quite a few more drinks, and then a few embarrassing moments involving the misidentification of a poker table. Although apparently that had been Jack's fault.
"Turlington, I presume?" Jack asked, not trace of the previous anger in his voice. When he nodded, Jack turned to Nick and his expression softened slightly, "You might not want to be here for this next part."
"I can't wait to see what those stripes look like around another animal," Turlington's first mistake: Threatening his torturer.
Nick wasn't exactly sure why he'd stayed, but Jack made him promise that no matter what he wouldn't intervene. He wished he had left. The stench of blood and burned flesh was currently occupying his nose, turning his stomach.
Jack stood in front of the bloodied coyote, having long since given his suit jacket over to Nick. The rabbit was still wearing his dress shirt, sleeves rolled up in a vain attempt to keep it somewhat clean. It hadn't worked.
His forearms were stained with blood, but overall it had been worth it. They had gotten at least a partial confession and a general location for the next auction. He had never directly been to one, but the mammals Jack killed on the way in had.
Now, Turlington was begging them to let him leave. Nick wasn't sure Jack would let him. After a few minutes of begging, Jack turned to Nick, "Left inner pocket on my jacket, there's a vial. Toss it to me, won't you?"
Nick did as he was asked, "Anything else?"
"Grab me a syringe, disinfectant, bandages, and a few water bottles," Nick put the jacket on a hook, and went about collecting the items from the store. When he returned, Jack was wiping at his arms with a rag.
Nick set the items down on the poker table, and Jack inspected them. When he decided they were good enough, he stuck the syringe into the vial. When it was full, he turned to Turlington and jabbed him in the arm, emptying the bluish liquid into him.
"It's an amnesiac," Jack said when he saw Nick's confusion written on his face, "Usually it can be ingested. Takes longer but it's more subtle. Memories also begin to come back that way. This is more permanent."
Nick pondered this. If Jack had this on hand at all times...
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of water splashing against the floor. Jack had dumped a bottle over the head of the coyote, and was now using another to wash the blood from his own fur.
Jack poured the disinfectant on his own paws, then into Turlington's wounds. He then haphazardly wrapped them with the bandages, and wiped himself off again with a new rag. Nick noted that there was quite a few discarded ones littering the floor.
When Jack moved to grab his coat, Nick got his first full blown look at the shattered Turlington. Nick couldn't help but feel bad for him, even knowing the crimes he had committed. It seems justice had finally caught up with him. Nick could only think that maybe the victim's families could find solace in this.
That's when Nick decided that justice wasn't fully served yet. He drew his gun and let out a bullet, penetrating the coyote's skull, "Let's make these scum piss themselves in anticipation."
Jack looked back in surprise, before nodding. It wasn't exactly to send a message. It was more like killing someone to ensure the safety of a friend. The threat of someone skinning Jack was enough to make him kill someone. He'd only done that once before, and that was for revenge.
"Let's go, Nick," Jack said, motioning for him to follow, "We've got a weasel to visit."
"What about the cameras?" Nick asked.
"There's no way a place frequented by so many criminals is using anything other than dummy cameras," Nick practically smacked himself in the face. He should've known that.
"So, Stripes," Jack's ear twitched at the sound of the nickname, "Are we gonna do the same thing to Weaselton? Because I'm pretty sure even the threat of what just happened will get us all the information he has."
"If so, then we won't have to. But if he proves to be too stubborn," Jack whispered.
"We best not torture him, he's more high profile on the ZPD's radar. More likely to be noticed," Nick countered, not really believing the words. He just didn't want to see Jack repeat the process. It didn't seem like something anyone could enjoy, and it had obviously taken it's toll on him.
Jack sighed, "Okay. Nick...I'm sorry for what I said."
"Me too, Jack. Me too," The fox settled in, content with the apology, "I have no idea where to find Weaselton."
Jack leaned back, loudly exclaiming, "Fuck!"
A/N: Welp, now I'm not sure whether to sleep or start chapter 4. Please review!