Today's special: quotation marks! Because I'm an idiot. I'll just go hide now.


He stood in the shower until the water ran cold, and even then he found it hard to budge. He dried himself rough and fast, scattering strands of fur everywhere, so then he had to vacuum the bathroom. And the living room. The kitchen. The hallway. Might as well dust while he was at it. Clean the stove. Come to think of it, when was the last time he scrubbed the cabinets? And those windows looked positively filthy.

Three hours later, he slumped into the couch. His place was sparkling, but his mind was still reeling. You lost it. You kicked her out. You idiot!

He checked his phone. Coming up on noon. He thumbed to her number, staring at the picture. She was beaming at the camera, showing those ridiculously cute front teeth. The situation really called for a face to face apology, but if he went over there right now, what would he do? Would he be able to stay civilized, or would he have her onto that tiny bed of hers before she could even blink? Now there's an image… A slow grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth. He could pin her down, apologize with a low growl against her ear, deeply drinking her scent, and then show her just how sorry he was.

He tossed the phone onto the couch with a frustrated growl. Not going over there. No way. Not like this. So what then, wait? He started work again tomorrow, maybe having the uniform on and being out in the open would help. It had to help.

He picked himself up from the couch and put away his phone. It was still too early for his weekly visit, but he might as well leave early, and take the long way there.


The wind outside ruffled his tail. It was a cold stiff breeze, with a deceivingly clear sky overhead. He took a deep whiff. First snow wasn't far off now. Winter was almost upon them, which after last night, should not have come as a surprise.

That's an explanation, but not an excuse. We've evolved, haven't we?

He started out in a slow pace. He wouldn't be surprised if the first snowflake appeared before he got there.


The autumn cold had nothing on the warmth of his mother's apartment. He slunk out of his coat and smiled at his reflection in the old mirror. How had so much changed while this place had stayed almost exactly the same?
The vixen that greeted him had changed but little. A few silver strands in her fur showed her age, but her eyes and wit were sharp as ever. She hugged him tight, and he sighed in content. He had moved out ages ago, but she always smelled of home.

"You're early, dear. Tea isn't ready yet."

"I don't mind. Anything I can do in the meantime?"

"Oh come now Nicholas, you're not even out of the hallway yet!" She tisked as he clapped and rubbed his paws together.

"No really, set me to work. Surely you left something for me just so I could feel useful to my old mom?"

"Hah! Who are you calling old?" She pointed behind her. "You can change the light bulb in my sewing room, it gave out a couple of days ago."

It didn't take him very long. He knew where the spare bulbs were, and the wiring was still fine. He could hear his mom humming along in the kitchen, amongst the sounds of the low whistle of the kettle and rattling spoons. The door to his old room was open, so he poked his head in on a whim. Mom was leaving is just like he left it, even though he did come over to rummage around from time to time. In here he always felt impossibly big, but that was just the child within, marvelling at all that had changed. He sat down on the tiny bed with a grin. By the time he was sixteen his feet had been sticking out over the edge. He used to just make a nest on the floor and sleep there instead. He really could sleep just about anywhere, nowadays. His nose twitched, and he found his mind wandering to a certain bunny, pinned to a certain bed…

He quickly jumped off, flattening his ears in embarrassment. Couldn't he go even one hour without being distracted now?

"Tea is ready!"

He closed the door behind him and made for the kitchen. Tea would help. It generally helped with everything.

He listened to her stories about her week, what she'd been working on in the sewing room, what her friends had said and done. He made a show of cringing when she started on how one of her friends had one of her projects completely ruined when her four-year-old granddaughter decided to 'help' by pulling all the pins out.

She laughed at his expression. "What?"

"Isn't this the part where you start badgering me about grandkits?"

She smoothed the fur on his head back with a smile. "Not today dear."

He gave her a confused look, but he wasn't so stupid as to press the matter. A free pass in the Wilde Household was not to be scoffed at.

It was his turn now. He talked about work for a bit, but since he hadn't been there much this week the topic soon changed to colleagues and old cases. He was careful to keep his tone neutral whenever he mentioned Carrots. His mom listened with warm interest, and sometimes, obvious pride. He shifted uncomfortably, taking a cookie. You'd think the novelty would have worn off by now.

"… and that's about it, really. Crime is slow, these days. Probably will pick back up before Christmas though, as it usually does."

She hummed and took a small sip from her tea. "That reminds me. Regarding Christmas. Shall I be cooking for two, or for three?"

He almost choked on his cookie, caught off guard. He gave her an annoyed frown.

"I'm not bringing anyone home for Christmas, mom." He really shouldn't have been so surprised. She asked him this every year, after all. The free pass apparently didn't cover this bit.

She feigned surprise. "Oh, you're not? Really, I must be mistaken, then." She cheerfully refilled his teacup.

He groaned internally. He must have been showing… some kind of signs, he supposed. He was loathe to disappoint her, but he should nip this now before she got her hopes up.

"There's no vixen in my life, mom."

She refilled her own cup, unfazed. "Who said anything about a vixen, dear?"

His cup rattled in his saucer as he almost dropped it.

"Mom!"

"Yes, dear?" She was smiling at him in a very unconcerned, almost smug way. He had no other reply but panic.

"She's a rabbit!"

"So?"

He looked completely dumbfounded. "You… she…. You have been hammering me about grandkits since I was twenty!"

"Oh, that." She gave a careless wave with a paw. "I suppose there's always adoption."

He sputtered. "The world-"

"The world will keep on spinning either way, I imagine."

"Her career-"

"There's ways around that, I'm sure."

"She's a rabbit!"

He shrunk a bit under her suddenly stern look. "I'm not blind, Nicholas, I've seen the ears. You're both tough, you can manage whatever life would throw your way. I mean, if that is what you want, of course. No pressure."

He groaned and put his face into his paws, momentarily baffled into silence.

"You just let me know on time if I have to include a veggie option into the Christmas dinner, all right?" She chuckled, gently ruffling the fur between his ears. "It's not the end of the world, darling."

He shook his head without surfacing, very much disagreeing. "She's my best friend…"

His mother's face softened. "That makes it hard, yes. You're afraid that you either gain all, or lose all." He nodded mutely. "Well, I'm afraid there's no real way to know until you jump, but if I know Judy even a little bit, I doubt she'll ditch you without a second thought."

He slowly came out of hiding, looking at his mother with a bewildered, wondering look. Were they really talking about this? She smiled encouragingly, smoothing back his ears.

"It's up to her, sweetheart. But how do you expect her to choose you if she doesn't even know you're on the menu?"

He gave a harsh chuckle. "Actually, I was still kind of hoping this would just go away."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're saying this is a purely seasonal affliction? No feelings for that sweet girl outside of it at all?"

He cringed, feeling his ears flush. "No…" Just easier to hide.

She gave his head a pat. "That's what I thought. Now, get rid of that unhappy frown and make yourself useful. You can help me with the dishes."


He did the drying while his mom did the washing, humming tunelessly. He glanced sideways at her a couple of times, trying to make sense of… well, everything. She seemed incredibly unconcerned about it all. Maybe the world could deal as well. And if not, well, the world could deal with an angry fox and an angry…

He shook his head. Don't get your hopes up, Wilde.

He opened the cabinet to put the cups away. There was something else, nagging at the back of his head.

"Mom?"

"Hm?"

"How did you know?"

She gave her plate a look-over before putting it on the rack. "Judy came over today."

A cold shiver ran over his spine and through his tail. "She… why?"

"She was worried about you. Apparently you kicked her out and she couldn't figure out why. So I asked on a bit, and well, it wasn't hard to connect the dots. I've been young too, you know."

That shiver seemed stuck in his tail now. "And what did you tell her?"

She put another plate in the rack with a clink. "I wasn't about to do your work for you, if that's what you mean. Just call her and apologize. Tell her the truth if you can." She shrugged, a twinkle of a smile in her eyes. "Don't, if you can't. She'll figure it out soon enough."

His mouth felt dry, and that damn shiver still wouldn't budge. "Carrots is too smart for her own good, sometimes."

"Judy", she corrected him sternly. "And yes, she is."

He stubbornly kept his mouth shut. If I call her Judy I am lost.

His nose crinkled in sudden realisation. Hang on…

"She's been in my room." His stomach plummeted when his mom nodded, confirming what his nose had picked up earlier without telling his head. He tried to swallow down the rising confusion.

Whatever reason could his bunny have to go into his room?