I didn't really have an ending, or much of anything planned when I started all this. The first episode was supposed to be a one-shot. Then things happened. But here is an ending, at least for this version.

A new and different dream, not exactly a nightmare.

Mara and Barbara are walking down a street when a dubious looking character comes out from between some parked cars in their intended path, and there was another one, across the street, intent on them. The first approaches and Mara knocks him down with a leg sweep then secures him in a one-handed headlock while she pulls out her pistol to hold the other actor at bay. He drops his very expensive looking camera that very satisfactorily smashes on the ground, oh goody, a reporter. The actor in the headlock is another, and she enjoys hearing a bit of crunch when he attempts to struggle. Then the response team shows up, unmarked black vans, the side doors open and the reporters disappear. She enjoys a wicked grin.

But it is only a dream. Fortunately, she had not had any direct contact with the press, yet. She wasn't even suppose to exist, and certainly not the subject of any new media attention to Wilde-Hopps, and by extension, the refugee Verschuka and her son.

But the media had gotten wind of Barbara and little Bernard. While they had not connected Bernard with Nicholas, their sponsoring of a refugee from a repressive state as an interspecies couple was becoming 'news'. And that was not a good thing for an erstwhile secret agent.

She sat in the dining area of the Wilde-Hopps apartment, watching the Mother try to feed her Son. He was very disinterested in the protein mush she was trying to spoon into him and was instead wearing most of it.

"Can I try?" Mara had an advantage over Barbara, little Bernard still saw her as a fascinating novelty, and he just might not be so squirmy if he got focused on her.

Mara picked up the Kit; he was growing so, and set him down on her lap. Sure enough, He was so fixated on her gold-green eyes that she kept extra wide for him and she was able to shovel food into his now passive mouth.

When done she handed him back, she was now the awful one who made him eat, though she wanted him to linger. Very unprofessional, getting all emotional with her subjects.

"Any plans for the day?"

"Got a new manuscript to beat on, looks pretty routine. The publisher is tossing me softballs, not much more than copy editing so far." Though Barbara had been a well-regarded story editor in her home country, and there had been vigorous initial interest in her availability, real work had not come through as hoped yet. Part of the problem was that she insisted that she telecommute, work from her residence, as she was loath to leave her still very young son.

"I will check in." Mara keyed in a code to her modified 'phone that would transmit a simple encrypted code to her boss. Along with an acknowledgement, there was an additional coded instruction. "Interesting. I have been called in. And that your security will assured while I am gone."

Mara did not know what to make of that, but she figured she find out soon enough.

An unremarkable office building and directions to a blandly anonymous room. And there was that Damned Dave waiting for her.

The lanky Cougar smiled at her frown, they had been working associates ever since he recruited her all those years ago, and he had a genuine affection for the moody cat. Her scowl was her signature response to him, as he was the face of the shadowy agencies that kept her 'busy'. He as an individual...?

"So, I am here." Mara coolly regarding the big cat.

"And looking well. See you haven't been needing a cane recently." Said like he meant it. He could be so annoying.

"As you know, I am recovering much better than expected." There was no doctor/patient confidentiality in this business.

"Yeah, about that." And She could see concern in his eye. Another thing she hated, he actually cared about his units.

"I've got good news and bad news." But she could tell it wasn't likely all that 'bad', but what?

"We've figured that Verschuka's government was never actually going to act on her after all. Likely just a petty ploy for us to waste resource on all the security around her." He gave her an apologetic look. "And with the pending new media attention she is going to have, they are doubly not going to risk any blow back with any move against her."

"So, it looks like you could be out of a job. Though it couldn't hurt to have you help keep the media at bay if it gets too insistent." And figured the pretext would give her some more time with the Fox and Son. The whole assignment had been as much therapy as it was security.

"And?" Mara could tell there was a big lurking 'and' in all this.

"And," Damned Dave beamed, "The various agencies that have used your services want to offer you an early retirement." He made it sound like they were doing her a favor.

"A medical retirement, as I am still too disabled for those missions I am more suited for." Mara said matter-of-factly. She had been a killer, as a guerrilla in combat and then government assassin off and on again since her mid-teens.

The Big Cat looked to her sadly, as he knew her self-depreciation. She had done so much more than be a hired gun, and the agencies were more than grateful, and were keen on seeing her end her days as something more than a casualty or burn-out. A consideration she likely saw only as a patronizing usurpation of her life.

"Well, they had a couple options. The First would be a full retirement, as a GS twelve equivalent rating. Aside from some non-disclosure requirements, you'd be free and clear." He could tell that she wasn't keen on that kind of idlement. She was not quite forty, and didn't have the kind of resume that made for a second career.

"Or, the State Department is willing to make you an offer as a regular staffer, a special assistant, security liaison and coordination for their overseas bureaus."

She had to think about that one. It was certainly something she could see doing for a while. And didn't involve any shooting. She'd have to deal with politicians though, and would likely not be allowed to kill any of them. Always a down side.

When Nick and Judy got home that night, they could tell something was up. Mara was the most unflappable mammal they knew, and that she now was, was a matter of interest, if not concern.

"Sooo, what's up?" Nick jumped right in.

Mara looked a bit fretful, very atypical. "I have been given some career options."

"From the look, what? Firing squad or hanging?"

Judy and Barbara recoiled from that, while Mara merely responded with a raspberry. His persistent lack of somber gravity in the face of her career was one of his few redeeming features.

"Either early retirement or an above board position in the State Department." She didn't sound all that keen on the prospects.

"And no door number three?" Nick pouted. "There should always be a door number three. Or, what's in the box."

What about your assignment here? Judy asked.

"There has been a reassessment and find there likely was no threat after all." Nick and Judy did a quick annoyed take at that, "But I would like to stay on to run media interference, if needed."

Everyone's eyes rolled with that. For Nick and Judy, it had been an off and on again battle for years now, and Barbara knew all to much about the media via her publishing experience. But she had an additional concern, while she felt she could weather any scrutiny, persistent notoriety could come back to harass little Bernard in future years. If nothing else, children could be so cruel to anyone out of the ordinary. Mara's thoughts were unprintable.

"Early retirement would allow you to, uhm, do things, or not..." Judy was sensing Mara's dilemma. She had always been a cat of action, and Judy couldn't see her lounging off somewhere.

Nick jumped in, "State Department, sounds boring if it isn't all secret-y."

Mara made a little face, as it was likely all too true. "But I do not need to make a decision any time soon. How much of what kind of attention the media makes to our refugee family will dictate my remaining tenure here."

A few days later.

"Nick, I have an idea, regarding Mara." They were at the precinct, checking up on email and related traffic, and she had just read a little post from one of her sisters when she remembered something.

Judy had been in the habit of reading the various news and events feeds out of the Tri-Burrows ever since she left for Zootopia. Though she never thought of herself as a farm or country girl, there was still something in keeping up with the community where she grew up. Mostly it was the practical farm and commodities news, to keep up with the family's fortunes. But there were also bits of social activity, seeing whatever happened to kin and acquaintances. In an article about the community orchestra, there was mention of an opening for a new music director.

"Didn't Mara's supervisor mention something about her having a background in music?" It was years ago, on one of their first major investigations as partners; they had to work with, presumably, the ZIA, and first met her as the icy Agent Anlef. As they were recovering, an unnamed fellow agent, presumably a supervisor, revealed she had a side interest in music as a composer or something.

"Yeah, and he warned us about letting her know what he told us about her." The pair had only a fragmentary grasp of who was Mara, other than an un-named violent and tragic past and their time with her since their original mission together. "I don't want to end up as chum for a deep sea shark fishing charter."

"Fah! She'd never do that, exactly." But Judy worried. The poor cat, when she wasn't the coolly efficient government operative, was a very private mammal and was sensitive about her personal confidences. But Judy felt she could broach the subject without too much harm.

So, that night.

"Mara, can I show you something?" Judy held out her tablet, with the music director's listing displayed.

The cat made a small smile as she read it. Then turned to Judy, "Has Dave been talking to you?" Said a mite peevishly.

"Dave?"

"Big, dumb concolor, forever thinks he can take care of me." She rolled her eyes.

"Only once, back in Rain City, when Nick and you were getting patched up. Didn't actually tell us all that much, just that you could be a friend, if you'd have us. And something about a knack for music." But that had been years before.

At that, Mara's somewhat stiff default expression soften. She truly cherished her two fools and was relieved that Damned Dave had not approached them about her potential new status.

Seeing Judy's concerned face, "This is not so different than a thing I did for a short time," She referred to the tablet, "And I have kept my hand in, so to speak, on my off times. Musical arrangements and such." She thought about some fleeting happier times. "It says it is still unfulfilled."

"Yes. It is a more or less volunteer position. The previous director was a retired music teacher, but she got too old to manage."

Mara thought about that. She knew the Tri-Burrows; both through surveillance and several social calls while Nick and Judy were on vacation.

On a GS twelve's retirement, she could live like a princess in a place like that. Maybe even teach again. While she carefully remained neutral, Judy and Barbara exchanged smiles.

A few days later

There she was again, hopefully for the last time, with Damned Dave. "I want the retirement."

"So, you're taking the music director offer." He looked happy for her. And that he likely knew even as she had been in negotiation, was too much.

"Curse you! You (particularly foul expletive in her home tongue)! Can I never be free of your puppet-master's strings?!" She bristled, her paws in fists of rage, her tail a poof.

"Is that all I've ever been to you?" Damned Dave looked honestly hurt by that.

She was not going to answer that. Instead, "I want one thing first. One last mission."

He frowned. "What is it?"

She told him, and his frown deepened. After some consideration, he said, simply, "Yes."

For the first time in all the years they had worked together, she took his paw in hers, and with a fleeting look of regret for her earlier outburst, said, "Thank you."

Two weeks later.

"So, Mara said she'd be here right at seven, so that means we have fourteen minutes and twenty ... five seconds before she hits the door." Judy looked out at the expectant faces. Mara had abruptly left with only the briefest "I'll be back" message two weeks earlier and now had left a message that everyone in the household, including the Bluth rat neighbors, to be on hand for her return.

Nick was hovering around the snack platters, not daring to nip into them just yet, but was planning his attack. Barbara was hovering over Bernard, who was playing, with more careful restraint than one might expect from one so young, with the various Bluth children.

"Judy, dear, are you afraid this will be a hello and good by for her?" Mrs. Bluth knew about her pending departure to the Tri-Burrows and had, in her brief absence, found that she missed the taciturn cat, both for her own sake, and for the hole in the daily life of Barbara and Bernard.

Judy looked a little pained, "I know, but it is for the best for her." She suspected that the Mother Rat knew at least some of Mara's background, but sympathized, she didn't really want her to go either.

Then, at six fifty-nine and forty seconds, there was a knock on the door.

Judy answered, and there was Mara, with two other figures behind her. The first, towering over everyone, appeared to be the mysterious Cougar, Dave, the second one -

"PATTIE!" Barbara shrieked and scrambled over to her long lost Sea Otter. But she hesitated just short, seeing the tear-stained and fearful face of her best beloved.

The Otter Girl twisted her paws in consternation and faintly gasped, "I'm so sorry for running away, Bab. So sorry."

Barbara threw herself into the silly mustelid, "You're here now! You're here now! Missed you so!"

Judy was stunned. Barbara had talked about her lost love, but made it sound like cruel fate had ended it long ago.

Mara caught Judy's surprised look, "I knew they wanted back together and heretofore, their government wasn't going to let that happen. They would not even let them communicate directly. But when you are in the business, things can happen. Think of it as a parting gift."

Judy and Nick exchanged delighted looks, then to the crowd of Rats who were all doing a collective 'aw' at the happy couple. Nick picked up his Son, and in doing so, knew that he was giving him over to a new family, one in which he was not likely going to be a close part of. He held him close and took a deep last breath of him.

"Barbara, you'll need to introduce your Patricia to your Son."

The pair broke their embrace to regard the Kit. Pattie looked at the little one, then to her Bab, then to Nick. "Thank you", she whispered.

There were a lot of tears, and joy, and hugs all around, though the Cougar was careful to stay out of the way. Nick eventually sidled up to him, and in a conspiratorial whisper, "So, you and Mara, eh?"

Dave made a sad face. "Hardly. I'll always be the one who took her out of one bad place and then stuck her into countless new ones. All she ever wanted was to be was a quiet neighbor in a small town."

Nick had to think that one over a bit. "Well, you've finally given her that."

Dave's face twisted a bit more. "Nick, you've seen her." Referring to a grooming session years ago, where he saw the extent of damage the small cat had suffered in her career. "I 'gave' her most of those scars too."

He looked over at her, smiling with the happy couple. "Too much history, and most all of it bad." He considered a moment, then withdrew a fat envelope from his suit. "Give this to her later."

Nick stood there holding the envelope and Mara's future, then noticed the Mystery Dave had gone. "Damn Spooks." He huffed.

Years later.

The last performance of the summer season was just wrapping up and Mara was surrounded by well-wishers for another successful season. While she was expected to join the after performance party, she felt she had to beg off. Her back was bothering her again and she hadn't gotten her acupuncture sessions rescheduled. Over-the-counter meds didn't really help and she didn't do well with stronger stuff. But she wasn't going to argue with whatever it was that the old Pangolin did that gave her such relief.

When she attempted to rise, a helping paw was offered. It was Damned Dave. "Nice series, though your horn section is still a tad weak."

"Will I never be rid of you?" But it was said without malice. "So, what brings you here?"

"Heard there was a merely adequate student/amateur orchestra worth listening to around here somewhere." He gave her a weak little grin. Then he leaned in and whispered, "And I heard it was a good neighborhood for retired spooks."

"You, retired? I thought they would have to kill you first."

"New administration, so I took retirement instead of getting fired or even prosecuted."

"They would not dare."

"Someone was going to take the fall for all the skeletons in all the closets, and it certainly wasn't going to be the ones who issued the orders."

They began walking out of the venue, "You're looking well."

"Clean country air will do that. You still look as awful as ever."

"Aw, I though I looked roguishly handsome, at least for someone of my years."

She shook her head. Even at his best, he had the blandly common face of his species that would never attract attention, the hallmark of the best agent. Now it was simply older. And maybe just a bit scruffy, a little detail that she had to admit she found endearing.

"So, what is next?"

"Well, there is this little old lady that I've always wanted to take out to a late dinner. I know a place near by."

"Well, you had better fetch her then. I'm too achy to do anything but go home."

"Well, that would work out just about right, as the caterer will be at your doorstep in about twenty minutes."

"You damn puppet master." But she said it with some small affection and hung tight to his arm.