Chapter Thirteen
Finnick's Townward Tour
"Nick-Nickey, old pall, old bud! Whad can I do yer four?" Nick lowered a suspicious gaze towards his 'friend' as Finnick took another near-unnoticeable step towards the fire exit.
"Hello, Finnick," Nick said in reply, keeping his voice professionally crisp. "Officer Hopps and I were just hoping that we could ask you some questions about the murder of an unknown fennec fox, found in La—"
"An' what makes you so sure I wuz responsible?"
"Neither Officer Hopps nor myself are implying you are responsible, it's just I caught your scent there and thought I'd see if you knew anything. And, Fin...stop slowly edging towards the fire exit; I don't want to put you in lock-up but, so help me God, if you take another step I will."
"No, I'm just shifting from foot to foot, das all!"
"Well, you're certainly closer to the exit then you were before... now, do you have anything to tell us?" Finnick took a step away from the fire exit to stand roughly between Nick and Judy. This part of the casino was dimly lit and under-crowded — so their 'conversation' was unnoticed by many of the punters and staff. Turning side-on from Nick, the smaller fox shoved his paws dismissively in his pockets as he spoke, his voice light-toned and mild.
"Look, Nickey, we bin old friends for years now, right?"
"I... guess so?"
"Well in sight of that, I do have one thing to say to you."
"And what's tha—" The small fox moved faster than the eye could see. His back lurched forwards, his fist shot from within his pocket, he stepped into the movement, his shoulders twisted, his arm arched and his paw became a solid rock as it plunged deep into Nick's chest with a sickening sound of fabric and force that drilled within the spot of violence.
It was a professionally dealt powerful punch and it was only Nick's 'standard ZPD issue' body armor, which stopped him from collapsing into a retching and crumpled heap on the floor. Instead, he bent over double and brought both paws to clutch to his stomach — obliviously in pain but not as bad as it could have been. Nick's cry of pain distracted Judy only for a second, but it was more than long enough for Finnick to kick open the fire exit and bolt outside.
"So long, sucker!" They heard Finnick call as he darted off. Judy glowered at the rapidly retreating fox for a moment before the fire door swung shut again. She could have given chase, but she had priorities.
"Nick," Judy asked, turning back, "you alright?"
"Fine, Hopps," he reassured, his voice a little strained, "just fine."
"You sure? That was a pretty heavy punch."
"Hmm," Nick replied dismissively, "no worse than what you give me, and that's without body-armor, remember?" She sighed, but couldn't say anything more, seeing how he was completely right. Nick spoke again. "Just be glad he didn't have his knuckle dusters on." He patted the rabbit on the shoulder, then continued, "come on, Carrots, lets go catch us an ex-business."
"Nick," Judy muttered, remorsefully, "he's long-gone."
"Actually, my dear sweet Carrots," he said, taking her paw and leading her briskly to one of the side-entrances, "by a severe stroke of luck I think you'll find that that particular alley," he pushed open the door a crack, peeking out into the street, "comes out right..." He leaped into the alley and pulled Judy with him... and the fennec fox, who had thought to have had left both of them far behind skittered to a sudden halt as they appeared, mere feet before him… "Here."
The alley, the three found themselves in, was narrow and very long. It is here where the poor strippers, who couldn't even afford their dignity, performed nefarious acts for tough males with hard, mean faces, and the money to buy that dignity full. On Finnick's left was the wall of the club — appearing as grimy and wretched as that which resided within — on his right was a six foot wire fence, ahead of him were two officers trained in unarmed combat, and behind? A long flat alley with no turn-offs or exits apart from the fire escape he came out of — which could not be opened from the outside — and the two memmle, being much larger than him, would've easily caught him before he had reached the door anyway.
He had only one option.
Finnick kicked up a little dust towards them and then sprang at the fence. The officers reacted a second too late and Nick reached up to grab Finnick's leg the second after he climbed out of reach. Grunting, he jumped up and started climbing the fence himself as Judy — who could not burrow through solid cement pavement — started to climb beside him.
Finnick reached the top of the fence and dropped the six feet to the floor. He glanced over his shoulder as he started to run and saw Nick and Judy still climbing, but following close behind.
Nick reached the top a second or two later but did not leap over just yet. Judy — with larger and less dexterous feet — was having trouble finding a foothold on the wire mesh. Keeping a firm grip with one paw, he reached down and held a paw out to her. She took it, and Nick swung her over his shoulder. She landed into a tactical role and was instantly running; Nick landed behind her a second later; the small form of Finnick quickly retreating down the long, sleazy street.
"Come on, Nick!" Judy called, shouting over her shoulder and Nick came up to speed. The chase led them down through alleys of cracked pavements, on over-busy streets and alongside the backs of many disreputable establishments. Darting between the streets, Finnick only just managed to stay again — and would have lost Judy if she had been on her own — but Nick knew the streets just as well as Finnick. Finnick's only advantage was his agility — gaining ground on them at every sudden turn — but Nick and Judy held great advantage regardless. As they were both larger people, they had a far wider stride along with more stamina and, had they been chasing on a single flat surface, they would have caught the fox long ago... but his darting and turning kept them somewhat at bay as they closed the gap between him.
The small fox darted across the wide street. Cars screeched to a halt before him. The two officers closed in. Finnick approached the opposite side of the street and Nick came very close behind him, almost managing to grab onto the smaller fox's arm before Finnick leaped forwards and dove under a car.
"Come on!" shouted Judy as she and Nick hurdled over the bonnet of the car to find... a complete lack of fox.
Only at the honking of a horn behind them did they turn to see...
"Hopps, he's doubled back!" shouted Nick, leaping back over the bonnet of the car to chase after their swift target, who was now running back across the busy road.
"Well," shouted Judy in return, "that trick won't work a second time."
They were back to square one again; all the ground they had gained on Finnick over the source of the chase had been lost in a matter of seconds, all thanks to a simple foxtrick. With the distance he had gained on them, Finnick risked a glance over his shoulder and knew instantly that he could never outrun them both — he only had little legs, and while he was quick when he had to be, his energy would soon be exhausted. He didn't have a chance. Not out here on the street, anyway. Somewhere smaller, that's what he needed, somewhere he could dart and rush here and there until they lost him, and he could slip away.
One of his massive ears — which were plastered flat against his head — pricked up slightly as he heard the rapid slap of paw pads against pavement closing behind him as the officers, again, shortened the gap between him. Looking down the street a way, he spotted a shop door open with a small brown bear stepping out. Finnick's pace quickened as he approached. He leaped snarling towards the bear, who cowered back from the small but very angry creature, and backed away from the open door. Finnick slammed closed the door of the shop, a bakery, as Nick and Judy ran up to the establishment, and he used the moment it took them to re-open the door to scamper away.
"Come on, Hopps," called Nick as he chased after the small fox, who was darting from the front of the shop and into the bread kitchen behind, "we can corner him in here, there's no way out!" Judy ran into the bakery behind Nick and entered the kitchen — well cleaned, with shining metal all around, and ovens slowly baking the raw yeast into bread, lining the walls.
Finnick rushed to where he hoped the back exit would be, but found none. He darted to the other side of the kitchen and found, again, nothing but solid wall. He turned on his heels, gasping for breath, his mind filled with fear, as the officers approached... the officers slowed to walking pace, the rabbit teased a pair of paw cuffs on her belt, almost mockingly.
Lashing out through the fear, Finnick grabbed a number of utensils — sadly out of reach of any knives — and started throwing the assortment of baking trays, rolling pins and bags of flower towards the officers who battered them away, mid flight, without apparent effort... all the while the small fox backed further away... until he came to a sudden stop in the far corner of the room.
...
The shadow of Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde fell upon the small form of Finnick. Pressed against a wall, his eyes darted here and there as he sought for the way out, now more controlled by his primitive, more savage instincts, which still festered in most people at moments of heightened emotion even without intoxicants like nighthowlers.
A satisfied smile on her face, Judy took a step towards him. "Gotcha." A large paw stopped her.
"Hold it," said Nick, looking up with a frown. Judy watched Nick as his eyes examined the almost feral fennec fox, "He's backed against a wall here, literally; knowing Fin, this could get very nasty." Judy took in the image of Finnick before her. His ears were low, claws extended full, crouching down in readiness to strike, and his eyes glinted with a dangerous light. He may have been small, but his claws were sharp and he was more than ready to use his teeth — even two trained officers on one, they could still come out very badly from the encounter.
"Dart him?" Judy asked.
"Dart him." Nick ordered. The small fox's eyes shot wide in sudden realization as the rabbit officer pulled a dart gun from her holster. Looking desperately about him, Finnick at last spotted his way out. Judy brought the dart gun to bare, but before she could fire, the fox darted behind a large crate before climbing it. Making his actions quicker than Judy's reflexes, the small fox climbed atop of the large crate, reached for a ventilation grate, pulled it away and climbed within.
Growling as she put the gun away, Judy leaped up and onto the crate to give chase, clambering in to follow while Nick shouted, "Judy, I'm not gonna fit in there, I'll go around and see if I can intercept him."
"Copy," Judy shouted, on paws and knees, as she crawled after their suspected target.
...
Finnick glanced over his shoulder at the rabbit following. She was about five feet behind. That didn't seem like much when you were crawling on paws and knees, but once Finnick was out of the vent — he realized — he would be sprinting away, while the rabbit would still be worming about that foul vent, slowly crawling from behind, for at least ten seconds... by which point he would easily have darted away and found a blind alley to hide in, so obscure, even Nick wouldn't think to look there.
Nick followed below, lessening the dull thump, thump, thump as Finnick and Judy crawled along the shaft above him. Tracking it to a wall, which the vent carried on through, Nick ran around to the last room of the bakery. He spotted an exit to the vent, and guessed it would be about ten seconds before Finnick would emerge. He turned to the dozen-or-so bakers who were standing around, kneading dough, rolling out raw yeast and applying flower across the surfaces from large bags.
"Okay everyone, Officer Wilde," he still loved saying that, "ZPD; there might be some trouble in here in a moment, so if you could all please move outside... thank you." The bakers cleared the room without complaint, the thump, thump, thumps moved closer to the exit, and Nick allowed himself a smug smile at how well it was all coming together.
...
Finnick could see the end of the vent in sight. In a few more seconds he would be out of the vent, on the floor, and far away before the damned rabbit in suit, if she could even get out of the vent. He reached the end, cackling as he mocked, "Well, sorry, Fluffarse, but I gotta split!" Finnick dropped to the floor. He felt the floor sweeping away under his feet, a weight against his chest, speed, momentum, and then the wind was knocked out of him as Nick's forearm pinned him heavy against the side of a table close to the rear of the room.
Seeing the smaller fox land, Nick had rushed him, brought him under control with a forearm, and was now keeping his weight against him, ensuring he couldn't move. Nick's muzzle parted in a cruel smile, his eyes bright with mockery, daring the smaller fox to try it.
Unfortunately... Finnick did.
Finnick arched the fist of his free arm forwards in an unrelaxed hook towards Nick's face. Nick saw the attack a mile off and leaned easily back. The fist returned with a back-paw to strike against his chest, but Nick turned so it hit the forearm that wasn't pinning down Finnick, a motion which protected Nick from most of the harm, while not allowing the smaller fox any leeway, as blocking properly would've risked creating more openings for his wily ex-partner in crime.
Finnick, this time, brought his knee up and into Nick's chest with as much force as he could muster, grunting in effort at the blow's delivery.
Nick saw the attack coming but, again, could do nothing to block it without risking the smaller fox getting away. He tensed the muscles on his stomach to try and reduce the damage, and hoped for the best.
At hearing the heavy groan of pain, and feeling the hold on himself loosen, Finnick swiftly brought his elbow into the equation and Nick's nose bloodied horribly. There was no 'manning up' to that attack and Nick recoiled sharply away, clutching at his nose with a high-pitched yelp.
Judy had seen all, but was still one foot away from the end of the vent, cursing herself violently at every second, every punch, every blow which the red fox — her fox, her partner — took because she wasn't there to help him.
Finnick pushed into Nick with a heavy shove and freed himself from the larger fox's grasp. He dove under the table, while Nick's paws came arching forwards to try and catch the smaller fox in a fox-hug as to hold him in place, but Nick's paw flew fruitlessly through the empty air. With the table between them, Nick moved to circle around the left, and to catch the smaller fox but Finnick moved to the right and would have ran away if Nick hadn't shot back in response. Finnick moved, Nick copied. Nick moved, Finnick copied. It was a classic Mexican standoff.
Finnick smiled at this realization... but that smile dropped as Judy at long last dropped from the vent to rush to Nick's aid. Realizing Judy could go one way and Nick the other — trapping him in the middle — Finnick rapidly searched through his dwindling bag of tricks and found only one left. He didn't like it at all. He didn't really want to hurt one of his oldest friends and long-term business partner too bad, he didn't want to risk permanent damage to him and he certainly didn't want to risk killing him... but the thing was, he wanted to go to jail even less!
He had only one option. Quick as a flash, his paw had gone to his pocket and he took out a packet of white powder.
Judy realized with horror, instantly, what Finnick was planning as the smaller fox tore open the plastic with his teeth and made to shove the white powder into Nick's face across the table.
Nick too knew he was about to be on the receiving end of a drug overdose if he wasn't careful and so, shooting his paw forwards, he clutched Finnick's paw by the wrist in his own. They stood utterly still for a few moments — Judy frozen in fear, worried that moving would somehow tip the balance and allow Finnick to do the deed — Nick and Finnick's paws trembled because of the energy being pushed into them, shaking from the tension as each pushed into the other.
When you have that much tension in one place... something has to always give.
The forces collapsed on themselves. Chaos theory was proved. Their paws shot without control in directionlessness, thus the part of the kitchen they occupied erupted in a clamor of noise as the objects on the table flew about the room, colliding with other objects.
Finnick stumbled over the table and landed on his feet, instantly making his way to run for an exit... and Nick fell back, his face arctic-white with powder.
Judy cried out in terror as the small fox darted away, rushing to kneel by Nick's side as Nick sat up, coughing and retching to try and clear the substance from his face and lungs, while Finnick rushed out of the front door.
Too caught up with the moment to check for traffic, Finnick ran out blind into the busy road... "Good luck getting out of rehab this time, Nick. Looks like I'm about as good as outta h—" ... and was promptly hit by a car and sent flying through the air to come crashing down into a fruit cart... "s-s-son o-of a—" ...and then the fruit cart collapsed on top of him.
Judy ignored all as she did her best to aid her friend. "Nick, Nick! Oh God, I—"
"C-Carrots," he stuttered, hacking white powder from his mouth, "don't worry, I'm fine."
"Nick, you're not fine, I'm calling in—"
"Hopps," he spluttered, "it's flour!"
"Flour?" She blinked at him and then rubbed her paw over his cheek, examined the white powder on her finger, and licked it. "Flour," she repeated again, tears starting to well in her eyes. Without warning, she threw her arms around Nick's chest and held him tight. Nick returned her hug with equal relief. "Flour…" she affirmed in vitalized finality.
They sat together — Finnick unconscious beneath a pile of apples — kneeling on the floor in the kitchen, held reassuringly in each other's arms and content to stay there for as long as they could.
…
Author's notes:
Hesitance jumps around your mind,
Grooms decision thus chosen blind.
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