The silent cell phone was the only light in the grimy apartment and that light bounced in the unsteady hands of the lanky male as he stared at the silent screen. Fidgeting had become almost second nature to him since that little bunny bitch had come into town, asking her questions and looking at him as if she knew everything he'd ever done. It made his eye twitch just to think about it. But of course, she didn't. If she knew half the things he'd done, he doubted she would have been so quick to attack him. ZPD be damned, he still intended to make her pay for insulting him. Pay bloodily.
Twitch.
He would have already, if not for Nick being beside her twenty-four/seven. Sticking it to the soft, hot body under that lawyer's clown costume, he imagined. No other reason someone like Nick would be involved, not that he could see. Weaselton didn't think anyone could blame him for being afraid of the fox. His fight with the tiger might have been surprising to most of the city, but back in the days when he'd still been allowed at Wild Times, he had seen Nick 'take care' of all kinds of problems for the fennec fox. Size had never been an issue, had it? He'd even silently cheered once or twice himself, seeing some smug bastard in a fancy suit dragged out by the ears or carried out on a stretcher. That had been before the weasel had bitten one of the whores and was kicked out himself. Banned. All he'd wanted was a little taste.
Just like he wanted a taste of that bunny.
Twitch.
"Come on, come on," he muttered at the still-silent phone, watching the minutes tick by as he sat away from the windows, away from the door, and made sure he cast no shadows. He wasn't expecting it to ring yet. Just like every time he received a package with a disposable cell phone in it, there was always a time included with the delivery. Now he just wanted it to be time already so that it would ring. Sneering at the 8:59 pm on the screen, he snarled and glanced around at the inky blackness of the room. Every shadow in the roomy, uptown, but the unkept apartment was suspect in his eyes. While he was already a male whose personality sat on the edge of jumpy, waiting for these calls always enhanced that. Not that he expected a knife in the dark, but…
The cheerful chime of the phone caused him to jump only slightly, his paws scrambling for a moment until he managed to swipe one thin finger over the screen to answer the unknown number.
"They sent me a summons," he said instantly once the phone was pressed to his ear, managing to stay seated even though the nervous energy made him want to stand up and pace.
"Yes, I am aware," was the calm reply from the voice that he had never been able to place. Male, but that was about it, which pissed him off to no end. "But your partner has not. Do you have an explanation?"
"Why would I have an explanation?" he snapped sharply, frowning as his mind raced through the interview with the stupid bunny. He had given the same answers that he'd given when filing the report and when questioned in court the first time around. "I said exactly what we planned!"
"We planned?"
The haughty tone of very mild annoyance was enough to cause the weasel to shiver slightly, swallowing hard as he cradled the phone closer to his muzzle. "Uh, I mean what you planned. I said exactly what you wanted, both times."
"Luckily for you, I know you followed the script." This time the voice was oddly soothing, even if the tone hadn't changed in any noticeable way. "However, it has come to my attention that Miss Hopps paid a visit to the impound lot and that she spent a good deal of time searching Otterton's car. I thought I was clear that you were to make sure nothing was to be left to chance?"
"It was clean! I went over that car from top to bottom," he pressed, his eyes darting from side to side for a moment as he tried to think of anything he could have missed. "It wasn't even at the scene and I was nowhere near it until days after, so I don't see how there could have been anything important anyway."
"Of course you don't. Which is why you are working for me, and not the other way around." The coldness of the tone was enough to keep the insult from rising into anger in the small mammal, though his paw flexed on the phone for a moment before the voice continued. "An item was recovered from the vehicle, but not by Miss Hopps. This minor detail managed to slip my attention because the one holding this item was smart enough to keep it hidden. That is, until recently, when it found its way into the paws of Miss Hopps' surprisingly adept bodyguard."
"A-an item?" he said, swallowing hard as his mind raced, trying to think of anything at all that could be linked back to him. "What item?"
"A receipt, it seems. But much to my annoyance, I have not been able to find out exactly what the receipt is for." Another brief pause before the voice continued. "Not to worry, Weaselton. There is nothing anywhere that can directly link you to the case as anything more than the responding officer. I made sure of that a long time ago."
"Then what's the problem?" he asked, his tone one of uneasy curiosity more than demanding to know why he was being harassed about something he couldn't be linked to anyway.
"If you cannot see the main problem, then I don't feel the need to explain it to you," was the reply, which had the weasel grinding his teeth so hard that his jaw ached. "But beyond that, there is the simple fact that you failed me."
"How was I supposed to know about one stupid receipt?" he demanded, jumping off the chair and waving one paw in the air in annoyance.
"I was very clear that everything was to be removed from the car. And have you ever known me to exaggerate?"
"Fine, I messed up. What now? You gonna have me killed?"
He desperately hoped that the fearless bravado in his voice hid the actual fear that had his fur standing on end.
"Of course not," the now-amused voice replied, the tone dismissive and almost jovial. "You do watch too many movies, Mr. Weaselton. Having you killed would open more investigations, draw more attention, and make it clear that someone is trying to silence you. However, our working relationship has come to an end. And you will no longer find yourself protected within the ZPD."
He stood in shocked silence for a moment, his ears pinned back against his head as he thought of how much easier his life had been since he'd become the inside mammal at the ZPD.
"You can't do that," he said weakly, shaking his head quickly as he started to pace the room. "You need me in the ZPD!"
"I assure you, I don't need anything more from you."
"Yeah? Well, how about you keep me in the ZPD and I don't let slip to the press who you are?"
There was a short moment of silence from the other end of the line, followed by what could only be called an exasperated, amused sigh followed by an icy chuckle.
"You don't know who I am, Mr. Weaselton."
"Oh yeah?" he demanded, licking his lips nervously at the tone and the statement both. "How can you be sure?"
"Because you're still breathing," the simple reply came, followed by an almost wistful sigh. "Let's not end this badly, Weaselton. I don't take well to weak threats and I don't give them myself. I did mean what I said. I have no intention of killing you, unless you force my paw. So, since you are good at following scripts, follow this one. Write it down if need be. Are you listening?"
"Y-yeah," he said, trembling from head to toe as he stared down at the tiny red dot that glowed in the center of his chest. "I'm listening. Sir."
"Good rodent," came the now completely business-like voice. "Whatever the outcome of the appeal, during which you will continue to adhere to the scripts I've prepared for you, you're going to take an early retirement from the ZPD. Chief Bogo might even be so grateful that you could receive a minor pension, to help you on your way out the door. You will refuse to talk to the media. You will not write a book. You will stay off of social media. Much to my surprise, it seems that you have been smart enough not to spend the exorbitant amount I have been paying you, so you are sitting on a tidy sum. More than enough for you to live quietly, unnoticed, and unimportant for the rest of your life. Doesn't that sound generous?"
Weaselton said nothing, just kept staring at the tiny dot on his chest, the heart it targeted beating so fast that he felt light-headed. Finally, he nodded in agreement when his voice failed him.
"I can't hear a nod - even if I can see it - Mr. Weaselton. I'm afraid I need you to speak up."
"Yes, sir," he said quickly in a raspy tone, feeling the fur on the back of his neck stand on end as, for the first time, he realized exactly how little power he had. "Yes, that is very generous of you."
"Good! I am not an unreasonable mammal, you see," the voice now almost cheerful, a rush of breath escaping the small mammal as the red dot on his chest vanished. "You have been of benefit to me for a long time now, and I will not forget that. But I will forget that you exist, if you make that possible. Keep it possible, and this will be the last time you hear from me. Or my more skilled associates."
"I understand, sir," he said, and when the call was abruptly ended, he slumped down to the floor. There he lowered his long muzzle into his free paw as he fought back to urge to sob out of basic, uncontrollable fear.
"You ready yet, Carrots?"
"Almost ready. I have to be at the courthouse a little ahead of time. But I woke up early," she said as she flipped through the printouts and notes she had prepared without looking up at him. She already knew that he was sitting in the seat across from her, or looking out the window overlooking the front entrance to the small office as he often did. "So, there is no need to…"
Her voice died away when she raised her eyes and realized he wasn't in front of the desk as she'd expected. For some reason, this sent a quick shiver of dread through her that had her setting the papers aside as she stood from the chair and walked around the desk.
"Nick?"
When there was no answer to her call, her heart quickened as an odd spike of fear shot through her. On a whim, she rushed to the bathroom door but already knew he wasn't in there, then the bedroom, which was as still and quiet as one would expect an empty room to be. Frowning, her heart now racing as uncharacteristic dread gripped her, she ran to the door and flung it open.
"Nick!?"
"I'm telling you, nothing good will come of it," someone said, causing her to turn to face the slightly blurry figure of the older buck speaking to her. Familiar scents surrounded her, a feeling of overall welcome and comfort. And deep annoyance as the voice continued. "No way you're going to be taken seriously in a place like The Foxes Den! They'd as likely have you for dinner as listen to a bunny in a suit."
"Dad," she replied, thinking herself incredibly patient and wise for an eighteen-year-old who hadn't even gotten into law-school officially yet, "just because there is a ban on bunnies in Zootopia doesn't mean they eat us. That's dumb. If they wanted to eat us, why would they have kicked us out?"
"Because they're crafty," the blurred image of her father said, making her roll her eyes towards the ceiling. "And they're hungry. And you can't trust them. They can't suppress their base instincts. Ask anyone."
"Foxes eat bunnies, that's what they were sayin'," another voice came, causing her to turn to face the bars of the cell that stood between her and the huskily built fox that sat curled in the corner like an animal. The signs that he had been beaten were clear, especially when he raised one swollen eye to look at her. "Sayin' I was gunna eat him, that I was a predator and I shouldn't-a been in the Commonwealth at all. Like I'm the only one here."
"What they were saying doesn't matter, Mr. Gray," she replied, taking notes in the single notepad she had been allowed to bring into the holding area. None of them took her seriously, not that it was hard to understand why. The cheap, ugly, tan-colored goodwill suit she had managed to piece together didn't exactly scream 'Experienced Lawyer' in her mind, but that wouldn't really matter. And she was the only lawyer that would take this case willingly, so she was determined to prove, twice over, that appearances didn't matter. "What matters is the truth. What matters is the law and justice. When someone is abused by the system, a victim of circumstantial evidence and a desire to quickly pin the blame on the obvious, then what you have is two cases of the law failing to defend the innocent."
"What matters are the facts, Miss Hopps," Bellwether said in a toneless voice from far away. Far away because the podium of the Chief Justice where she sat seemed three times taller than it should have been. This made the bunny's stomach drop as she tilted her head back to try to see the tiny glowing white figure, almost godlike, above the courtroom. "Are you bringing me facts, or do you expect Zootopia to accept another second-rate defense?"
"I have facts!" she insisted, holding up the thick folder overflowing with photos and testimony. "You know as well as I do that he's innocent, otherwise why would you have heard this case at all?"
"And why would I have let you into Zootopia, if I didn't want this injustice cleared up?" came the smooth, feminine voice of the vixen that walked around her. The question made her mind wander for a moment. Why was she in Zootopia, if not for Otterton? The thought was short lived as Neveen walked in front of her chair, arms crossed over her chest as she looked down at the bunny with cool eyes. It was uncanny how much the orange fur and dark ear tips reminded her of Nick.
That thought that brought back a lingering dread as she glanced to her side. The seat where Nick was supposed to be lay empty, causing her to sit up a little straighter. And just as quickly, she shrank back with a whimper when the vixen leaned closer to her, her face a little blurred. A little deformed. Her teeth were too prominent, her eyes too bright, her smile too wide as she placed her paws on either side of the bunny.
A bunny that was now felt naked as she curled up, trembling.
"Did you think he was going to stay by your side forever?" the vixen said, her voice just as smooth and pleasant, even if the sound of it spelled death to the rabbit. "You're not even food to mammals like my brother and me. You already know that you're nothing more than a pawn in this city, so what would make you think that a Wilde would see you as anything more?"
"He's not like you!" she shouted, gathering her strength to reach up with both paws and shove the vixen away. She turned into the alley, which was overwhelmingly dark and silent save for soft grunts and moans from directly ahead, coming from a tiny point of light. Her stomach rolled as she moved forward, through the darkness as her paws soaked in the wet filth from the hard street and the world around her became more twisted and deformed. Among buildings where the bricks were the teeth of predators, that point of light started to become clear even as the world around her darkened.
There was the snowy form of the reporter Harridan, her skirt up around her hips and her paws pinned to the wall, with Nick behind her, rutting into her urgently with his dark paws gripping her hips tightly. He didn't even notice her when she weakly called his name. The stink of liquor filled her nose, adding to the sickness that washed over her when the obviously delighted vixen turned and grinned at her with a mouth filled with jagged, shark-like teeth.
"Don't worry, little bunny," she moaned, a snake-like tongue sliding over her muzzle. "He'll get what you need out of me, once I get what I need out of him."
Then one paw was extended, the receipt in hand.
Closing her eyes to push down the revulsion and pain of the scene, she turned to run just as the walls of the alley tried to close in around her. The teeth of predators snapped at her, slicing close to her fur and flesh almost playfully, tauntingly letting her know that they could have her at any moment. She screamed as one nipped her heel, tearing her skin as she stumbled. The savage walls started to close in on her, making her throw her hands over her head in a desperate attempt to defend herself from the city that intended to murder her.
"The foundation of every rising power has its fair share of expendables," came a low voice from directly in front of her, causing her to open her eyes as her nose twitched. The walls - with their teeth now dripping blood that she knew wasn't hers - started to draw away, folding back before the shadow that moved towards her. Wide purple eyes watched the almost shapeless mass with white glowing eyes move towards her, a billow of smoke rising from what might have been ahead. The figure stood over her for a moment, exhaling audibly in a long stream of smoke that swirled around her, cutting off her ability to breathe as the tendrils became clawed fingers that gripped and squeezed around her. "Every pawn is expendable. But the mastermind?"
Her vision started to darken as the eyes leaned closer to her, narrow and amused.
"Will be immortal…"
Sticky dread clung and pressed against her chest like a suffocating force as the last image followed her out of the nightmare, dread that caused her already quick heartbeat to speed up further as she sat up with the sheets clenched in one paw. With eyes wide in the darkness, her gaze darted to every corner illuminated by the faint shafts of light from the window, nose twitching rapidly. The instinctive need to be out of the dark overwhelmed her as even the sheet she clutched to her chest started to feel like a trap. Looking down at it for a heartbeat, she flung it away from her before kicking it away and all but leaping from the bed.
The flash from the window was followed almost instantly by the roar of thunder, causing the entire office to vibrate and leading her to understand what had woken her from the dream. It also made her jump and flinch, the need to run almost overpowering. So much so that she rushed to the light of the partly opened door and rushed through without thinking, almost stumbling into the main room to calm her heart and catch her breath. Wide lavender eyes moved around the familiar room.
Familiar, except for the fact that it was empty.
Judy had never stepped out of the bedroom without the fox being there. Usually, he was just sitting or looking out the windows in what she assumed was the normal paranoia of a bodyguard. Always brooding. Except recently, when the brooding stopped as soon as she came out of the bedroom. What her thoughts were on his stoic face softening every time she came into the room wasn't on her mind now. It was the fact that, aside from the sizzle of the rain and the low-toned rumble of more distant thunder, the office was completely quiet. The lights were on, the chair on the opposite side of the desk was pushed out as if he had just been in it, the bathroom was dark, and the TV was silent.
All she could think was that he was gone. Maybe, under normal circumstances, this would simply have made her curious but, with the nightmare still pulling at threads of thought that she had refused to pluck, the dread only clutched at her chest harder. He couldn't leave her alone here! Maybe before coming to Zootopia, she had believed that she would find a way but now? Now she understood that he had been right. The city would be the death of her, and the politics in motion were too big for her to deal with without someone beside her to keep it from crushing her.
Panic rose as a weak sound escaped her throat when she tried to call his name, pushing away from the bedroom and heading towards the front door. The second time she tried to call his name, she found her voice as she reached the front door.
"Nick!"
Light from the open door spilled over the fox in the rain, no more than three feet from the door and moving towards her, bringing her to a sudden stop. His arm was already raised and whatever nightmare Neveen had warned her about was taken by the worry that instantly clouded his visage. Worry that was quickly replaced with a darkening of his eyes, a ready tension sweeping through him as one paw moved behind his back when sharp green eyes moved behind her. Searching for whatever had chased her into the night after him. A keen protective instinct that had saved her more than once already, but one that was befuddled quickly when she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his torso.
"Carrots?"
Her name was the only word he spoke, even as one of his paws rested between her shoulder blades as she breathed in what of his scent she could find through the rain-soaked shirt. She knew he realized that nothing was chasing her when his other paw, relaxing from the baton at his back, joined the other around her. Whether he was trying to figure out what had driven the half-naked bunny into the night looking for him, or he was simply allowing her a moment, she wasn't sure. But as she pressed her cheek into his chest and felt the warmth seeping through into her fur, she was glad he didn't say anything. It allowed the panic to subside and the images of the nightmare to become cloudy and distant as nightmares usually did once the waking mind took over for the subconscious fully. It wasn't until her nose stopped twitching and her heart rate had dropped by half that she drew a deep breath and raised her head, looking up at him without letting him go.
"The storm makes it impossible to hear outside," he explained, now mostly curious green eyes bright in the light from the door, "so I went out to walk the perimeter."
"You're not going to leave me alone in this city, are you?" she asked bluntly, as even fading images left lasting impressions and fears lingering in her gut. Fears that were, by and large, diminished by the confused frown that tugged at his muzzle when he shook his head slowly.
"No. I thought that was clear by now." She understood what he meant. His chance to leave had been obvious when she had threatened to end their partnership on all fronts if he didn't explain who he was and why he was doing what he was doing. And secretive as he had been, right up to not telling her that his sister was The Administrator the day they had their meeting, he had told her what she wanted to know. When she nodded and rested her head against his chest again without a word, he squeezed her shoulder with one paw lightly. "Let's get inside. You're hardly dressed for the rain."
She gave a small nod, allowing him to turn her to walk by his side as he led her into the office again. Her ears were low as she huddled close to him, feeling the cold of the rain on them for a moment now that he wasn't acting as a sort of shield against it. Still, the back of her nightshirt was soaked and Nick was dripping onto the floor as he released her and turned to close the door.
"Hold on, I need to get a towel," he said, one paw squeezing her shoulder lightly before he made his way towards the bathroom.
The bunny watched him go, almost feeling every step that put more distance between them, until she started to shiver again. She realized that she didn't want to be alone. She didn't want him outside again, out of her sight again. Not even if it meant he was just in the office one door away. Even the chair that he had once moved into her bedroom next to her wasn't close enough. She didn't want to be alone at all and wasn't sure she would be able to sleep at all if she had to.
"The storm is supposed to pass before morning," came his voice, muffled by the towel he had draped over his head as he walked out of the bathroom, his chest bare as he had left the soaked shirt inside. "So, at least we'll have clear skies for the drive to co…"
His voice died when he lifted the towel. The fact that she was now holding her wet nightshirt in one paw at her side was obviously the reason for the sudden silence. That silence was broken when she let the wet cloth hit the floor with a light 'splat', watching his eyes widen – and then sharpen - as she pushed her underwear down. Heat rose under her fur and inside of her ears as she bent over to tug them free of her foot and drop them on top of the shirt. She watched his nostrils flare, watched the creamy fur of his chest rise and fall as he lowered the towel to his shoulders. She worried that she had made too much of a show of it.
Or not enough of one.
"I don't want to sleep alone," she managed to say, somehow keeping her voice from cracking as she moved towards the fox that seemed to be watching every inch of her body all at the same moment. When she reached him, she felt the heat of the blush intensify almost as much as the basic attraction she felt for the male as she reached out boldly to tug on the buckle of his belt. "I want you in bed, and our clothes are wet. I just don't want to be alone. And our clothes are wet."
"Yes, you mentioned that," he said, making no move to stop her as she focused her attention on unbuckling his belt, unfastening his pants, and then pushing them down his hips. There was an intimacy to the act, and somehow the fact that she really wasn't looking for sex seemed to make it more so. His voice almost made her stop when she was faced with the boxer-briefs he wore, and what was outlined so clearly by them. "But you're right. Wouldn't want you to be distracted."
"It's not like I would be thinking about the case. You know. During," she defended, using the little huff in her voice to quickly pull the fabric down. Then, of course, she held her breath as he stepped out of them, leaving her with her first good sight of him. And much like he had, her gaze seemed to want to be everywhere at once and every breath she drew was curious, interested.
How had she thought this was a good idea?
"Oh, I know you wouldn't be during, Carrots." The daze of near innocent lust was broken by a low chuckle from him, causing her eyes to lift to meet his as she tilted her head slightly. "I was talking about being distracted during your court appearance."
While there was playfulness in the tone, probably intended to relax her and possibly him at the same moment, the words struck her as very likely true. And very arousing at the same time.
"Well, that's not helping," she muttered, as heat that had nothing to do with the annoyingly persistent blush started to rise. It was a good enough reason for her to reach out and snatch the towel away from him to run over her own ears, which were only slightly damp, as she turned to head towards the bedroom. "No more jokes from you until morning, Mr. Fox."
She could almost feel the smirk from the male as she realized that pretty much anything she said at this point could be taken as innuendo. She ignored it, and the feeling that he was watching every step she took as he followed her into the bedroom. Once they were inside, almost as if he knew she was going to ask it of him, he stepped past her as she left the towel hanging on the doorknob. She watched him as he climbed into bed, not making a show of it in the slightest. All joking was set aside now, obviously, his motions were quick and to the point, his expression calm and relaxed as he settled onto his side with his back pressed against the wall. This left her with plenty of room to join him, which after a moment of staring into his eyes for assurance, she did. Her tail twitched slightly as she slipped into bed beside him, under the sheet, to lay on her side facing away from him. And instantly, she regretted the choice. Shouldn't she be facing him? Didn't she want to hold him or be held by him? Was it easier to do that when she was facing him? If she moved now and pushed back against him, maybe he would take that as an invitation that she wasn't ready to make.
These thoughts had her staying still, silent, and uncomfortably staring into the dark for a long moment. She listened to the sound of his breathing, let his scent filter into every light twitch of her nose, trying not to move for fear that her discomfort and embarrassment would be obvious. Then, she felt the warmth of a large paw on her shoulder. Squeezing gently, causing her to close her eyes as it slipped down her body slowly to wrap around her waist. She offered no resistance when he pulled her into the warmth of his body, tucked her close against him until every inch of her was nestled into warm fox fur and she was fully surrounded by his scent.
"Goodnight, Judy," he murmured as he tucked his muzzle between her ears, making her feel enveloped and protected under him.
It was the first time in weeks that the case wasn't on her mind, that the city didn't feel like it was pressing down around her. Even with the twinge of excitement and the nervous flutter of her belly at having him so intimately pressed against her, she felt more relaxed than any other time since leaving Bunnyburrow. So, when she finally closed her eyes again, she released a contented sigh and just let herself be held while the sound of the rain outside and the gentle whispers of his breath tempted her to sleep.
