On some dark street corner

"I want someone dead."

Panther couldn't help but grin. Just the sort of person I like. Straight and to the point. No beating around the damn bush trying to find out if I can be trusted.

"I'm sure it could be arranged," Panther replied smoothly, "I'll just need a name and I can take care of the rest. I'll also need to know the pay."

"Peppy Hare is the name, 10,000 credits is your pay. Yes or no."

Despite the fact that Panther enjoyed bluntness while dealing in his "business," he was slightly annoyed and how clipped and grainy the voice was over the cheap cellphone he was using.

"Military figures are much harder to get to, you know, and the risk is much higher. The bigger the investment, the better return you'll get."

"10,000 is final, no negotiations." The voice was cold, emotionless.

Damn.

"I'll think about it. Is there a number I can have to get ba-"

"Yes or no." The mysterious caller was obviously in no mood for the usual banter.

Screw him. This isn't going the way I want.

Panther disliked jumping into an agreement with so little room for maneuvering. Not that he had anything against killing, he was quite good at that and enjoyed his work. But jobs like this could sour quickly. Still, 10,000 credits...

"Very well. When do you want him-"

"As soon as possible. There are others I have called, and they are already working on this little trouble of mine. If they beat you, you don't get paid."

"Click."

Jackass. Panther casually turned on his heel and dropped the phone into a nearby desolate trashcan. I don't want the bastard being able to pinpoint me. I don't really care for him, whoever he is. Panther trudged off on the street, trying to ignore the cold drizzle that was starting to mount. Panther disliked Corneria. There was no particular reason for his dislike, there were merely many other places he would rather spend his time. At least the pay is good, and the customers plentiful. Panther smiled. It looked more like he was baring his teeth.

Back to Fox

"Wake up Fox, you have a visitor." This simple line dragged Fox from another of his nightmares. The nasally voice and the sneering face of a uniformed weasel were the first things he heard and saw as he forced his eyes open. Bastard of a weasel. I should put a crater in his face. Not like they can make my life much worse. Sighing, Fox stood up. It doesn't matter. I really don't care.

"He's here for ten minuets. Try and act like a civilized piece of useless shit, if you can." With that, the weasel walked off laughing.

Maybe I should have punched his damn face in.

Fox stretched, and allowed a cavernous yawn to escape his mouth. He then deliberately looked at the floor. He didn't give a damn what people wanted to say to him at this point, and he didn't mind showing it. Whoever it is, they can go to hell. I'm tired.

"Hello Fox. I never really expected to see you here, considering everything that you'd done in the past."

Oh bloody, bloody, bloody hell. This is going to be awkward.

Fox looked up. Sure enough, the face he saw was an exact match with the voice that he had preserved in his memories. Fox forced out a small smile, then looked back down again. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse.

"Morning Peppy. It's been a while."

"Why exactly did you do it Fox? Really. I expect better of you. Robbing a bank wasn't something I saw in your future."

Fox grated his teeth. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to be having.

"Well, life hasn't been going great."

"That's your excuse?"

Why is he doing this? He doesn't need to.

"Dammit Peppy!" Fox was starting to raise his voice. "There isn't an excuse. I know it, and you don't need to rub it in my face. I screwed up, I know it. If all you came here is to give my a damn sermon then get the hell out!"

Peppy sat calmly as Fox let off steam.

"I'm not here to lecture you, I don't think you need it. I came here to offer you a deal."

Fox turned and looked at Peppy again. A deal? What type of deal? Will it get me out of here? There was a momentary rush of adrenaline, but Fox killed it. He was tired of letting his hopes rise up only to be crushed by reality. He wasn't going to let himself be dragged down that way again, not when he was stuck in the depressing state he was in.

"What type of deal." Fox made sure he kept his voice flat and uninterested.

"I need your help. It would be a job – of sorts- and it is a temporary way for you to get out of this hellhole. Pending completion, it may be upgraded to a permanent ticket. This of course is assuming that you want to job."

Fox felt a faint spark of hope start to bud down in his chest, but again, he squashed it. Don't be dragged down again, don't be dragged down..."

"What's the job?" Fox continued with his disinterested inflection.

"Protection. Protecting someone, to be more precise."

"Really? Whose the dumbass in question that needs protecting, and why the hell isn't he asking the police instead?"

"The dumbass is me." Peppy allowed a faint smile to creep onto his face as his noticed Fox's ears start to change to a slightly pinker shade."

"Ah, um... Sorry." Fox managed to choke out. "But the point still stands, why not go to the police? Why me? Do you need an expendable waste of space to take a shot or two?"

"You're an old friend. Why shouldn't I ask you? I trust you, despite your altercation that landed you here." Peppy was starting to enjoy this exchange, as he could tell Fox was weakening.

"You aren't worried at all?" Fox shot back. His hope was steadily growing, despite his attempts to squash it. Peppy could tell by the way Fox's shoulders raised higher, and how his voice grew steadier, that he was warming up to the idea.

"The only thing I'm worried about is why you got your ass kicked by a shriveled skunk. I thought you were better than that."

Fox was stung, despite the humor in Peppy's voice.

"I was.. well.. umm... I was... drunk... and..." Fox's excuses trailed off. His professional pride had taken a blow once he had realized it himself, and Peppy calling him on it didn't help.

"It doesn't matter. I need help, you're an old friend, and I have reasons for choosing you over normal means of protection."

"What are the details?"

"You don't need to know them if you aren't going to accept the offer."

"You expect me to accept a job without knowing the details?

"I expect you to want a ticket out of here."

Fox knew he should say yes. Dammit, it's a way out working for an old friend, why wouldn't I? Something was nagging Fox at the back of his mind, though, which caused him to hesitate.

"You sure you won't tell me anything about it?"

"When you say yes I will."

Fox sighed again. Outwardly he was annoyed, but inside he was having trouble controlling himself. I'm getting out, my God, I'm going to get out. Still, he slowly rose and pretended to still be thinking.

"Fine. Yes."

Peppy broke out into a grin.

"Give me twenty minuets and I'll have you out of here."

Seventeen minuets later, Fox was walking out of the prison with his head spinning. Thirty minuets ago, he was jailed with no hope, and didn't care. Now he was walking out into the sunlight again. His life was still empty, and his heart still broken, but he was free again. I'll be damned if I'm going to let this chance pass by. Life still sucked like hell, but it was getting better. Slowly but surely, getting better. As he was walking out the door behind Peppy, he noticed the nasally weasel at the counter, talking with a feline policewoman. I guess I shouldn't punch him, but still... Fox turned, and waited until the weasel noticed him. Fox then slowly, deliberately, flipped the bird to the weasel, and sauntered out the door, ignoring the squeal of rage behind him that was suddenly cut off as the door behind him closed. God, it feels good to act like a child sometimes.

Life was definitely getting better.