A/N: Okay, so finally, we have another entry for "Off the Trail"! This one was fun to whip up. I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you very much to those of you who reviewed most recently, including Combat Engineer, Berserker88, Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps, and Hawktooth. I love hearing your thoughts on these short takes!

And thanks to everyone who reads, faves and follows. Hope you're enjoying this journey as much as I am!

Best - Euphonemes

Off the Trail

Chapter 8 - Yeah, It's Laverne

A Companion to Run: Chapter 6: Parts II & III

"Pronk, y'know our neighbor's famous now, right?"

"Who?"

"The bunny next door."

"The little one?"

"What…yes, the little one! How many other bunnies live next door to us?"

"Oh, whatever. Betcha think you're really smart, knowing that?"

"Smarter than you!"

And so began the argument that consumed the next ten minutes in the apartment of Bucky and Pronk, a kudu and an oryx pitted against the world. Well, pitted against each other, chiefly. Two fiery tempers with no business being near one another had met by happenstance in line at a coffee shop not six blocks from their current residence. Time had woven its way around them, and soon, they were seeking out a place together "in the heart of downtown," to be as close to the "action" as possible. One of them – which one exactly was irrelevant at this point – suggested the cabinet that passed as a room at Grand Pangolin Arms.

Over the next few years, miracle after miracle must have occurred to keep them from annihilating each other and the room in the process. Near-constant fighting — vicious in tone but honestly devoid of malice — had driven out half a dozen neighboring tenants. Not one mammal could withstand the fury of their arguments…until the little bunny had arrived on the scene.

When What's-Her-Face had moved in, Bucky and Pronk had conducted themselves with their typical and total lack of decorum. They had arranged a bet between themselves on how long the bunny would last. Alas, she had survived far longer than anticipated, and winless Bucky and Pronk had gotten to keep their money.

Recently, more noise had been coming from her side of the paper-thin wall. A lot more talking than usual had the two of them curious…though Bucky was the one who had been more interested in acting on it. His eavesdropping had initiated a few loud discussions over the past couple of days, though fortunately, the bunny hadn't been home. She was busy with something, even if Pronk hadn't yet placed a hoof on what it was.

Occasionally, tempers would cool enough to allow for quieter conversation – nothing too complex, but enough to engage one another for a softer minute or two and reveal some measure of tenderness. And after they argued the air out of their lungs, one such moment was born.

Bucky started them off by tapping a quizzical hoof on the wall. "Should we, like, get to know her or something?"

Pronk barely hid his contempt for the idea. They had lasted a year without launching into any real conversation, save for the snippets gathered through the paper-thin wall. And he saw no reason to start now. His eyebrows climbed high as he asked, "Why would we do that?"

"Well, It's just…what if she wins?"

Pronk was completely lost but had no intention of communicating that to Bucky. "So what if she wins?"

"Wouldn't it be nice to know the mayor?"

"Well…." So that's what she's doing. Politics bored him — and usually Bucky — to tears, but he had to admit that Bucky had the right idea. Getting in good with a potential mayor now could have some benefits down the road. But while his head wanted to congratulate Bucky, his mouth had a different idea. "Wait, do you even know her name?"

Pronk had witnessed a host of expressions cross Bucky's face over the years. The flash of anger that darkened into confusion and slight panic at drawing a blank had graced Bucky's face plenty of times before. "Of course I do, don't be an idiot. It's…."

As it turned out, an impatient hoof could make a fair amount of noise tapping on a vinyl floor. Pronk hammered away at the ground until he heard the familiar thump of the broom handle the old badger below them used to futilely try to silence them. "Still waiting."

"Fine! Then you tell me what it is!"

"Okay, I will. It's…." Bucky had actually worn that particular look of blankness quite well. Pronk felt that his turn with it was a little lackluster, his jaw not slackening enough as he racked his brain for a name. Muffled and barely-understood pieces of the rabbit's many conversations with guests and on the phone all battled for supremacy until one choice — the clearest choice — emerged. "Laverne."

Bucky laughed, though it sounded like a short cough. Only seventeen things would heat Pronk's blood faster than that particular laugh. "Laverne? Out of anything to guess, you pick Laverne?"

"Yeah, it's Laverne! It's not a guess! I heard her say it before."

"Oh really? When was that?"

"When she was talking to her…parents."

"So you were spying on her?"

"Oh yeah, like you can talk! You're the one whose ear is always stuck to that wall!"

And after this next argument — with Bucky and Pronk making the very air shudder with their invectives — burned itself out over the span of three minutes, they found another peaceful moment to share their thoughts on how best to open a conversation with Laverne. Bucky figured that inviting her over to one of their two-mammal Thursday night raves would smooth things over. Pronk was of a more timid mind, thinking a nice dinner of reheated noodles (with a pad of margarine on top for garnish) would suffice. Inevitably, each shot down the other's brilliant plan.

"Okay, fine, Bucky. This is your idea. What are we gonna do about it?"

Pronk figured that putting his partner on the spot would end this line of dialogue once and for all. So rarely could Bucky surprise him after time had wound itself around them so tightly.

Today, however, would be a rarity. "I'm just gonna go over there, knock on Laverne's door, and say hello."

The simplicity of it all was tremendously shocking. And to have it delivered not as a shout but rather as a reasoned discussion left Pronk's jaw terribly slackened. He was genuinely surprised; but, he couldn't necessarily show as much. "Alright, fine! March over there and knock on her door."

"Okay, I will!" His hooves made a terrible racket as he clopped across the vinyl flooring and threw open the door. Through the paper-thin walls, Pronk tracked the kudu's movements as he shuffled down the hall — only about four or five steps required — and banged three times on the door.

Pronk wondered if the rabbit were even home…in fact, a part of him hoped she wasn't. Sadly, the "listening through the wall" trick worked both ways. Given the ferocity and the subject of this latest argument, Laverne might take issue with answering her door and dealing with the two of them.

Apparently, though, she would not take issue quite yet. The tiniest of tremors shook the wall as the deadbolt slid out of place. The lock clicked, and Pronk heard the muffled voices of Laverne and his much noisier partner. They chatted — a few lines of dialogue — and Bucky maintained what sounded like an even keel throughout it. It was incredible…and Pronk actually clung to a sliver of jealousy as Laverne and Bucky spoke.

It must have lasted only fifteen or twenty seconds, and then Pronk caught the clopping hooves coming back down the hallway. When he had left, Bucky's hooves had made a regular and strong sound, driven by his incensed determination to prove Pronk wrong. But his return was softer, with subdued and varying steps. Pronk braced for whatever would walk through that door.

Bucky didn't say much as he dragged himself past Pronk and plopped down on their couch whose cushions had frayed, victims of the excess of Thursday night bacchanals. Their apartment was quiet for nearly a full minute, which had to be a record. Pronk, however, would not let the silence linger, and he joined Bucky on the couch and asked about his endeavor.

"So…?"

"Caught her on her way out. Going to some party."

"Okay. And?" Pronk would ask four more times before he received his reply.

"…her name's not Laverne."

A nervous hoof tapping on the vinyl sounded very similar to an impatient one. It probably sounded the same to the old badger below as she put a little more force behind her broomstick. Bucky's hoof needed to relax — a release from what had to be incredible embarrassment. Pronk wanted to help… and knew just the way to do it.

"I knew it."

The couch coughed up dust as Bucky flew up from the cushions, leering over Pronk as he rose more delicately. "You told me her name was Laverne! Are you kidding me!"

Bucky let a ferocious fire burn, which made Pronk happy…but he couldn't show it, of course. Other opportunities to acquaint themselves with the potential future mayor would arise. For now, though, Pronk would enjoy this special argument with Bucky in the cabinet they called home.

"Well, if you weren't sure, you shouldn't have called her that!"

"Then why tell me!"

"You wanted an answer!"

"Oh, an answer! Let me tell you something…."

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