A/N: Hi, everyone! It's been a busy month for me so far, and I'm a little behind with this fic and "Run". But, I do have a new drabble to share with you all today! I hope you enjoy it.

My thanks to Combat Engineer, HawkTooth, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, and Berserker88 for your reviews. It's very good to know how much everyone liked the pie (which made me hungry while writing it, of course XD).

And thank you to everyone who reads, faves, and follows! It means a lot to me that you spend your time reading this.

Happy reading ~ Euphonemes

Off the Trail

Chapter 5: Safe Keeping (A Companion to Run: Chapter 5: Part III)

The blinds were still drawn, even though the glare from the sun was long gone. Nights in Zootopia brought their own colors: deep blues of neon signs, bright yellows of other mammals burning the midnight oil, and the flashing reds of brake lights as the cruisers pulled into the motor pool to rest for tonight. But Chief Bogo was not one for resting; that was fortunate, as he would find none this evening.

Sparks still popped from the hole in the television screen. He had known it would be a huge mistake to keep that box on, to let more lies about his officer poison the air. Part of him had liked punching a hoof through the black screen and tearing out the wires and transistors that had forced him to watch the terribly saddened face of Hopps; another part of him dreaded the paperwork he would need to file tomorrow morning.

For tonight, though, he reveled in the silence…or, more accurately, he had reveled. Most of the precinct had gone home — he, Fangmeyer, and a few others had pulled the onerous duty of the night shift. Without the usual warm (if annoying) sounds of radios blaring, computers clacking, and cops chattering, this grand hall of justice was cold in the quiet. While Bogo was the first to complain about distracting noises, he missed it right now. Anything (save for another newscast) would be good to distract him from the two shiny badges sitting on his desk.

Procedure dictated that he log them with the quartermaster, who would then take these badges into his cage and lock them away for safe keeping. Bogo had taken his time in heading to the basement, so much so that the quartermaster had gone home hours ago, leaving the chief responsible for the badges until morning. Under the soft light of his desk lamp's incandescent bulb, each piece of gilded metal glimmered, even when the shadow of a pensive Bogo covered them.

He had taken one of these badges before. And though he hadn't shown it, it had hurt. Watching a dream die was truly awful, and in the eyes of Officer Hopps, with tears rimming the edges, it had been brutal. Luckily, she had proven smarter than her adversaries and had returned, her triumph brightening the lavender in those obscenely big bunny eyes. And though he couldn't show it, it had made him smile.

This time, those obscenely big bunny eyes had looked worse, even after he tried to smile. Her dream hadn't died, but it had mutated. It had been transformed by her campaign, by the cruelty of the animals she had sworn to protect in the same oath that Bogo had taken those many years ago. She couldn't hide her tears this time, and Bogo watched them stream down her cheeks as she relinquished her glimmering badge.

He should have been angry at her — he had every reason to be angry. He had entrusted Officer Hopps with this important case, and she had sat in the chair right across from him and assured him she could handle it. He had considered stepping in when she nearly fell asleep at her desk, that carrot pen abandoning the paper form and rolling onto the floor. But, Bogo had trusted Hopps to get the job done…and it had been a long time since she had failed him so badly.

Despite the circumstances that should have sent fire coursing through his veins, Bogo could not get angry at Officer Hopps. He had taken a peek at her spot in the precinct and saw the leads littering a normally pristine desktop. She and the fox had chased down everything they could. More focus would have been better…but maybe this case would have been too much for any officer. The rabbit and the fox were the best choices; Bogo was confident in his decision. Maybe there was something he missed in all of this. Maybe there was more to this case than Bogo had first suspected. Wouldn't that make the fox happy?

"Ah, yes, the fox…" Bogo grumbled as he spun the other badge. Nothing should have brought greater joy to the chief than wiping away that fox's smug smirk. Those teeth of his had haunted these halls —Bogo's halls — with a determination that could almost be admirable. But when it came to being an officer in Bogo's precinct, Wilde lacked the vision, the grit…or so the chief had thought.

Now in the cold halls, Bogo was having a hard time picturing his precinct any other way. As a cadet, Wilde had been challenging (he had seen the reports on the hippo-cherry bomb incident: "totally unfounded," Wilde had claimed). And he had brought along a lot more baggage than many other officers. Yet, there was something special about the fox, and though Bogo would never — really, never — say it aloud, there was almost something respectable about Wilde.

And so, Bogo stared at the two badges on his desk. He stared until his eyes crossed and he couldn't discern the edges of golden shields from the boring muted color of his desk and let it all blend together. Right then and there, he desperately wanted another TV to punch.

Three quick knocks rattled the glass pane in his door. Each officer had a distinctive manner of knocking on the door to the chief's office. From the tremulous taps of Clawhauser to the hammering blows of Higgins (and even the whisper-quiet slithering in of Wilde), the chief never needed to look up from his desk to greet the entrant. He stared intently at the badges as he waved a hoof at the door. "Come in, Fangmeyer."

When he did look up, Bogo found the striped set of ears and the snout but not much else. "Uh, Chief?" A little more of Fangmeyer emerged, but he wouldn't commit to entering Bogo's office; one foot was securely planted behind the door. "Just wanted to…whoa, what's going on there?" An inquisitive paw pointed toward the television set, which was anemically spurting out sparks.

"It blew a fuse."

It didn't matter that Fangmeyer didn't believe his chief, though Fangmeyer did make an admirable attempt to hide it. This was when Bogo suspected that his officer was about to ask for something unorthodox. "Uh-huh, right, sir. So, um, Wolford wrapped up his work and went home a few hours ago. And, I was wondering…see, I wouldn't normally ask, but I have this…. "

Invariably, that's how all of these requests began: "I wouldn't normally ask." This particular excuse had popped up quite often during Bogo's tenure (with a disproportionate amount coming from Wilde, if the chief thought about it), and typically, Bogo had plenty of fortitude to annihilate those requests. Work needed to be done — the city needed to be secure, after all — and his officers had taken an oath to do their part for the betterment of Zootopia.

But tonight…things were different. Bogo let his eyes drift away from Fangmeyer, and they landed on the TV, which had finally given up its fruitless attempts to transmit terrible images. He had watched and listened to one of his officers, one of the finest in the city, be torn apart while he had sat in his chair and twirled around her badge. It was a city she had helped pull from the brink of destruction just a year ago, and it had turned so quickly against her. And Bogo turned that oath over and over again in his head, and he wondered how much each word really meant to him.

For what it was worth, Fangmeyer humored his boss. Bogo had gotten lost in his thoughts, staring at the gold in the two badges while the tiger still hid behind the door. Normally, Bogo would have given a snort, which would have been more than enough to tell Fangmeyer to go back to his desk. But tonight…things would be different. "Go."

The look of surprise on Fangmeyer's face was truly priceless. Had Bogo's phone not died an hour ago, the photograph would have been his new wallpaper. "What's that, sir?"

A tad irked that he would need to explain it, the chief required a deep and very loud breath to steady himself. "It's quiet around here. So, whatever it is, go take care of it. Keep your radio on in case something happens."

Bogo's ear flicked as he caught the sound of Fangmeyer's foot shuffling back from the door — a little too eager for the chief's taste, truth be told. "Are you sure about—"

"Go. Before I change my mind." An ultimatum was more like the chief.

And Fangmeyer knew it. With rather inspiring precision, he saluted his chief (as best he could from behind the door) and belted out a "Yessir!"

The door barely made a sound as it latched behind a fleeing Fangmeyer. The tiger was a good officer, and Bogo probably would have let him leave anyway. But, there was an appealing attribute to getting Fangmeyer to scurry — it wasn't meant to be mean, but more like motivating. And as motivated feet pattered away from his office, Bogo could only focus on the two badges still glimmering on his desk. Now that he was alone with them, he wasn't entirely sure what to do.

He thought of leaving them at the quartermaster's station (there was a drop box near the cage where everything was kept), but a little voice in his head piped up and told him to hang on until morning. He often listened to that voice. Now, it had told him to trust Hopps and Wilde, and as a result, their badges sat on his desk. But, it also said that the two of them would need these badges back very soon.

The gold shields slipped easily into his shirt's breast pocket (his monstrously oversized shirt could be useful at times). He patted them while staring at the TV, which had finally given up its efforts and lay quiet and still. Tonight, that made him smile.

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Last Update: 1/16/17