"Huh?"
She took a beat, inspecting the phone and reading the message, then putting it back down. Her eyes were wide and she couldn't believe what she had read. She looked at the phone again, then put it back down. She repeated that action two or three more times before finally breaking the cycle by getting up from her couch and getting ready for her nightly bath. Taking off her server clothes, she put them on her laundry basket and began filling her tub with cold water. When it was ready, she shut off the valve and went in.
She began thinking of how she could keep going on the conversation. She didn't expect the fox to reply so fast, or even reply at all! She moved her tail up and down in the water, thinking. She was always most relaxed in the water, being an otter and all. Taking her glasses off, she submerged her whole body, making the thinking easier.
Does he really mean that?, she thought. Does he actually want to meet again? She had no idea if she would accept. The kiss had been so embarrassing, and seeing him again would probably trigger more embarrassment.
But…there was something about him. Something that Sam couldn't help but be interested in. She wasn't one for many relationships, living alone and working most of the time. She never allowed herself any time off because she just never had enough money to excuse a free day. Maybe hanging out with the fox could be a good excuse for getting out of her job for at least a day.
She was entertaining the idea, but opted to not accept his proposition to meet just yet. She wanted to know more about him. Going back to the surface, she dried her paws with the nearby towel and began tapping away on her phone. Firstly, she saved his phone number on her Contacts, which was (555)-191-1315, saving his name as Nick. With a few more taps, she began typing her message.
The otter wasn't responding.
Finnick let out a sigh of relief. His subconscious had decided to ask them to meet, and that was something that he definitely didn't want to do. An unspoken rule about hustlers is to never meet the person you hustled, especially if that person thinks you're someone you're not. He just wanted to thank her and that was it. With the otter texting back seemingly unlikely, the fox released the tension he had stored.
"Wait a sec, why am I so nervous about a chick texting me?" He asked himself. It's probably the kiss.
Yeah. The kiss. The one thing he actually didn't have any control over and was a complete surprise. He never would've expected her to do something like that, especially to someone like him. He thought if she was always like that, getting taken advantage of by anyone she met. Finnick was no saint, but the thought of Sam getting hustled multiple times didn't bring him any comfort, despite also partly thinking it was pretty funny.
Greg's talk about settling down had opened his eyes. Most fennec foxes had a family by the time they were in their 20s, mostly because of their instinctual predisposition to find a mate. For Finnick, that predisposition had never come. He wondered if it was because of his many shortcomings (no pun intended), whether it was his previous love partners or just his life in general, which hadn't been happy colors and rainbows whatsoever. He envied Greg for still looking so happy despite arguably having one of the hardest lives a mammal could have.
Deciding not to dwell on it anymore, the fox decided to go to bed, his massive meal now making him sleepy in the late hours of the night. Like he did every night, he stripped himself to just his briefs and snuggled up on his makeshift bed made up of overly long pillows typically used by larger mammals, like elephants. As he did every night, he opened his phone again and began coursing through his social media feed. He followed nobody, but it was always good to keep up with the world.
It was always the same. Stupid food recipes, crazy challenges that teenagers invented, people fighting over whether a vixen was wearing a yellow or blue dress. Finnick despised most of that. It cluttered his page and served no purpose other than to distract people from the important news. Like the story of how a kit was found after everyone thought he had died, or the story of corrupt politicians who had been given their just desserts. Finnick was all about happy endings, despite his less-than-ideal profession.
"Great. Look who's in the news," said the fox to himself, a bitterness in his words. He had found an article containing a picture of his ex-best friend, now a traitor. Alongside his picture stood enemy #1 of the predator community: Judy Hopps. At least that's what she was for the few months where she condemned every predator to be hated even more than they already were. Thankfully, she fixed her own mess, but the damage was already done. Predator opinions got better, yes, but they also weren't exactly the same as how they were before the Bellwether crisis. The media article he was in was a praiseful one, at least.
Double Trouble!
by Rodrick Lapin
Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps (pictured above, left to right), have only been police officers for about a year, but have already become the most popular police duo in the entire city, and it's by no small feat. After successfully bringing down Bellwether's Night Howler madness from last year, life has been nothing but up for these two rookies. Another unbelievable but true fact is that Officer Wilde was a civilian during his collaboration in the investigation, which jump started his career immensely, and in a matter of a few months, the Hopps-Wilde team was formed. Their insane feats didn't stop at Bellwether, they also managed to take down a corrupt media conglomerate selling Night Howlers in the side. The fight was long and arduous, but their evidence proved i-
Finnick skimmed a few parts of the article, bored and annoyed at the praise this writer was giving to them. If only they knew what their precious fox cop used to do for a living, they wouldn't be so proud of him. His eyes widened at one part of the article.
We had the pleasure of interviewing both Hopps and Wilde in this exclusive interview for the Zootopia Tribune:
Interviewer: This question is for Wilde. What would you say is the hardest part of the job for you?
Wilde: Oh, it's surprisingly very easy, Rodrick. Yes, it doesn't come without its hurdles, like some of the insults they throw at me, either for being a fox or for being a cop. Sometimes it's for being both, haha. Throughout my life, I've learned to take those insults in stride. I was hurt a long time ago, and I don't feel like anything has come close to that, but despite some mammals' disdain of me, me and everyone at the ZPD will do everything we can to protect them.
I: Amazing answer, Officer Wilde. Next question goes to Officer Hopps. You've been praised for being a very impressive officer who could do anything, even take down lions in sparring sessions. Is there anything you find difficult to do?
Hopps: There's actually many things I can't do, Rodrick. For one, I hate cooking. Everything that gets made by my hands is bound to get burned, hahaha. But if we're being serious, interrogations don't come as easily for me. I'm the type to chase and capture the perp, and Nick is the talker. I would also like to say it took me a long while until I was able to even hurt a mammal larger than myself. It took lots and lots of practice that not every bunny could go through.
I: Ah, so you consider practice and perseverance your most predominant quality?
H: Do I consider it? Yes, yes I do.
I: Moving on, this next question goes back to Wilde. What would you say was your biggest motivator for becoming a cop?
W: Definitely not the pay, if we're being honest here. I was not a particularly lawful citizen before becoming a cop. I did many things I would consider shifty, and people never really trusted me. I saw no reason to be anything else than a lowlife. Even so, I didn't join the force to prove them wrong or anything; as I mentioned before, I took those insults in stride. My true reason for being a cop is the mammal a few feet to my left, taking this interview with me. She saw more in me than anyone else ever had, and was also the first to offer me the job as her partner. What kind of mammal would I be if I didn't accept?
That was enough. Finnick shut off his phone, blackening the screen. He was pissed again, remembering the fox who had left him behind. Everyone happily pranced around overjoyed that a fox had become a cop except for him. Why'd that rabbit have to go and choose Nick of all mammals? They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that mistake led to him being more alone than ever.
As he was about to close his eyes to go to sleep, his phone gave a lion roar, which was his customized notification ringtone. It was a message from (555)-694-4934.
"Oh my god," he sighed, opening the message. He was in too deep now, and he didn't think he would find a safe way out of this hole he had dug himself in. Maybe he should've paid for the meal like a normal animal.
She decided to go for a playful tone:
Wow, you already messaged me? That was quick :0
Are you okay?
She didn't want to be too playful. Maybe he tapped the wrong letters and doesn't actually want to meet. Maybe he was too shy to ask for her help again. She stopped her thinking when she saw the three dots at the bottom of the screen indicating that he was typing.
"Sorry, that joke was out of taste," he typed. "Also, yeah, im ok."
"Don't worry about it," she started saying. "I'm used to those jokes. Besides, I think they're funny xD *otter emoji*. Glad you're okay, though. Have you talked to someone about a job yet?"
This time, he didn't take that long to answer. "Not yet. I think I'm gonna sleep on it and then decide what I'm gonna do."
"That's fine. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. Just maybe tone down your eating habits lel"
Oh no, what if he thinks I'm being passive-aggressive? she thought. She did want to help him, but she needed the money as well, so it was only fair.
"Yeah…sorry about that," he said. "It was my first decent meal in a week. I didn't know it was so expensive."
"It's okay, I get it. Maybe next time I could cook something for ya." Smooth, Sam. Very smooth, she thought while blushing.
"That sounds like somethin. We could def do that someday. We could cook for each other." That proposition was not uninviting in the slightest.
"Oh, hey listen, about that kiss," she started typing. She had to bring it up or she wouldn't be able to sleep. "It wasn't that big a deal, it's an otter thing. We like to hug and kiss mammals when they're down."
It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a total lie either. Most otters were only comfortable hugging and kissing members of their own species. Unless they were very close friends, it was almost unheard of to hug or kiss someone who wasn't an otter, which made her action even rarer.
"Well, then, guess that means you owe me a hug ;)"
She had to submerge herself again and scream as she read that message.
…
On the other side of the screen stood the fennec fox, unable to stop messaging and flirting with the otter he had just hustled. He was breaking every single unspoken rule of hustling and he didn't like it. He could just block the number. He could just stop texting. He could just go to bed. But somehow, none of those seemed as entertaining or as important as texting Sam the Otter.
"What the heck am I doing?" he told himself. "Why am I flirting with this sow?!" By all accounts, it really shouldn't happen. Finnick never messaged girls, he just met them at random parties, had his fun, and then left. It was all so bizarre. He focused on his phone again, seeing that Sam was beginning to write again.
"That will only happen if you serve the best meal an otter could ask. When should we meet?"
He scared himself by how fast he began to text, knowing exactly what to reply to her.
"A week from today will be nice. See you then, Whiskers."
A faint hint of a smile appeared on his muzzle. He'll give this a go. Maybe something interesting will come from it.
"Today's the day," said an arctic fox, waking up in the darkness of his room, the only light being a soft glimmer from his curtained window. "Today's the day she doesn't reject me!"
Gregory Wildkins, a twenty-something-year-old (he won't say what his actual age is) woke up with that thought in his mind, and it never left. Not even as he dressed in his usual black cargo pants and green cardigan, with his favorite Fox and Roll band t-shirt underneath it. Not even as he brushed his teeth and groomed his tail, as well as trimming his claws. He had to look his best if he wanted to impress her, of course.
Grabbing a quick meal of eggs and pancakes, the Arctic fox set off into the unknown, dreading what awaited outside of his apartment. Not even two steps out of his home did his first problem encounter him.
"Going somewhere, Ice Man?" asked a middle-aged reindeer. It was his neighbor, a particularly suspicious and paranoid individual who always sought to get dirt on the fox. Granted, he did do questionable stuff, but he didn't need someone on his tail every time.
"As a matter of fact, yes, Jamie boy, I am."
"May I ask where?" he said, opening the door of his apartment to look at him better.
"If you must know, this tod has got himself a date tonight!" he said proudly.
The reindeer laughed for an uncomfortably long time, making Greg frown. "You? A date? Who would go out with a spaz untrustworthy fox like you?"
"You better cut it before I report you for discrimination, man. Besides, don't you got anything better to do other than spy on me?"
"Oh hold on, let me check my schedule," he went back to his room for only a moment, coming back instantly. "Nope, sorry. Just gonna annoy you as you walk out of your apartment. Typical Monday morning for me."
"Hurray," Greg said drily. "Whatever, Rude-Olph, I'm out of here."
The reindeer said a few more things he didn't care to hear and began his descent through the stairs of his apartment complex. Living in one of the coldest parts of Tundratown had its perks. For one, it was cheaper. Even animals that could withstand the cold found this part of town bearable, but for Greg, it was no biggie. He had been homeless practically his whole life and seemed to have developed a stronger resistance to snow. Thanks to both his uncles, he managed to find a good place here and call it his home. Not one minute out of the complex's elevator did he receive his second problem.
"Wait a second, Mr. Wildkins!" screamed a senior rabbit at him, calling his attention. "Did ya know next week is the end of the month?"
"Oh, thanks for telling me, Milly! I almost forgot."
The rabbit massaged her temple, saying some words in a foreign language. "Do you know what happens at the end of every month?"
"We switch months?"
"The pay!"
"Oh, right, yeah yeah yeah, rent, of course, haha," he facepalms. "I won't be late this time, I swear! I've got a steady day job now!"
"Somehow I doubt that, but you better not fail me again or there will be consequences this time!" Without any more words to say, the doe stormed off.
"I better pay it. Don't wanna lose my house. Uncle Fin would go nuts if I did."
He'd pay for it tomorrow. Right now, he had other plans.
His 1989 red Zoodan was the only thing that his parents had left for him before they abandoned him. A man named Rowan was keeping it with him until he turned eighteen, which, to his reluctance, he had to agree to take. Despite hating relying on something his sorry excuse for parents gave him, it was very useful to go around, and now that he had good business with his uncle, it was a good way to go around and make errands.
Now it was time to get to his first destination of the day before heading out to work with Fin. It was usual for him to call the fennec, saying he'll be ready to come to work in a while as soon as he got breakfast and did his morning routine. Curiously, the dial rang, but the fennec never answered the call.
"Huh. Uncle is always awake at this hour. That's very unusual. Eh, maybe he slept in," he said, unbothered, as he began to drive to his next location.
Frost Mechanics and Company was a place he loved, and not just because of the great oil change discounts that saved him a lot of money every month. One of the vixens that worked there was the love of his life, and he would one day see himself not getting rejected by her.
As soon as he entered his car into one of the garages of the facility, he was instantly greeted by a chipper arctic vixen.
"Should've known it was you, Greg. No one drives these piece-ah-garbage car anymore," she said, taking a look at his inherited automobile. Her cheek was covered in a black substance he could only discern to be oil, as well as her blue overall pants that definitely highlighted her curves.
"Hey, Skye, how are ya? Just thought I'd drop by and get an oil change made," he said, courteously.
"You just got one done yesterday."
"Uhhh, extra safety?"
"Hey, it's your money, dude, I don't care," she said, getting her toolbox ready to start working on his car. "How's Finnick doing? Heard he's taking it badly after his old partner left. What was his name, Wilde?"
"Yeah. It's been rough. I don't blame Uncle Nick for wanting to pursue a better life and all that, but Finnick didn't see it that way at all. Nowadays, he's pretty bitter about it and doesn't even want to talk about him. This is weird because he still has Nick's bed made like an altar in there. Maybe he's waiting for Uncle Nick to be back or something. I feel pretty bad for him, Sk-" he stopped talking as he witnessed the arctic vixen with headphones. He sighed, getting out of the car to let her work on it. "Hey, where's your sister?" he asked her.
"Johnny Lister?!" she asked loudly.
"Your sister!" he said again, this time understood by the vixen, who pointed at a nearby office.
Taking a deep breath, the fox strolled to the door with determination, opening it with the same confident aura, only for it to be washed away completely as he looked at her. Skye's older sister. The cutest vixen he had ever laid eyes upon. She was wearing blue overalls just like her sister, but one of the straps fell to the side, giving her a more appealing and seductive appearance, which Greg didn't hate at all.
"If you have complaint, sir, tell it to my sister," the other vixen said, in her thick Foxden accent, sitting down at the office enjoying a breakfast fish sandwich. "I'm on break and hungry. You do not want hangry Himmel."
"H-hey, Himmy! It's just me, Greg! Remember me?"
The vixen looked back at him and squinted her eyes, pondering where she had seen him before. "Ohh, it is Finnick annoying partner," she said with disinterest.
"Uhh, I would say I'm more of a lovely partner, hehe," he laughed nervously. His ship was sinking. It didn't seem like it had even been afloat. "I-I brought you some flowers! I heard you get a lot of orchids out in Foxden," he told her, putting the flower bunch atop her desk.
"Orchids mean death in Foxden, Finnick partner," she told him with a serious voice.
"What? No, no, I-I looked it up, it's a symbol of grace."
"You think you know more about country of birth than Himmel? Huh?" she got up threateningly, going over to Greg with malicious intent.
"N-no, I-I don't!" Greg said panicking, covering his face for the possible beating he was going to receive. But it never came.
Instead, the vixen wheezed. Very cutely. "Heeeahahahaaa, you actually thought I was gonna hit you, hahahahaha, you funny, foxy. You funny."
Greg didn't find the humor in it, but her smile and laugh made up for it, making him blush even more. "S-so, you like the orchids?"
"Oh yeah, they're cute, I'll put them in pile," she said, opening a cabinet that showcased many other orchids, possibly from other animals that had fallen for her beauty. "Name is Greg, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, I…told you my name like a month ago. Remember? We went out for drinks, the four of us?"
"Himmel drink like a beast. Barely remember that night," she said, sitting back down and eating her sandwich.
"And then we met up a few more times? I kept asking if you'd go out with me?"
"Are you asking again?" she asked him expectantly. It seemed like she was curious to hear his answer.
"Yes," he answered with determination. "Would you, Himmel Frost, please go out with me?"
"Nah."
His confidence fell flat on his face. "B-but why?"
"Hey, Greggers, your car is re-" said Skye, barging into the office, stopping suddenly on her tracks. "Wait a second, are you hitting on my sister again? You know she's rejected you, like, ten times already right?"
"It was only three!"
"Well, make it four, cuz there's no way-"
"Already said no, Skye, you're late," said Himmel.
"Wow," she said, her eyes wide. "You were only here for like three minutes, you botched it that bad?"
Greg sighed. "Just gimme the keys," he said, facing downward. She held them up for him, which he grabbed on his way out.
He was about to turn on the ignition when he got stopped by Skye. "Hey, Greg. Don't feel too bad about it. She rejects everyone, ya know? She's just not one to settle down."
"It's…not because of me, or my job?" he said, gripping the steering wheel.
"Nah…you're a pretty cute fox. She's just not interested in anybody after her last relationship. Wasn't good for her, you get me?"
"You really think I'm cute?"
"Course you are. I might be many things but I'm not a liar. You'll find someone for ya out there. Someday."
"Thanks, Skye," he said, turning on the ignition with a smile.
"Anything for my best customer. At this point, you'll be putting my future kits in college, if I have any, that is."
"Hey, mind if I ask, how come you never get hit on? I mean, you and Himmel are twins."
"We're different enough to be distinguished from each other. You know that much. The other part is probably this." She took one of her paws out of her pockets, showing him a bright and shiny ring on one of her fingers.
Greg gasped at the new discovery. "How come you never told me?"
"I don't tell just anybody I'm married. Besides, it's pretty easy to miss, being an all-white ring and all. When someone does hit on me, I just show them this, and they leave as soon as they arrive."
"Wow. Here I thought you were dedicated to this job and nothing else."
"It's all it is, Greg. A job. Wouldn't be worth it coming home every day to nothing. No offense."
"None taken," he said. He had gained a different view of both Skye and Himmel that day. Maybe it hadn't been such a waste.
…
Uncle Fin was not picking up. It was understandable at the early hours of the morning, but he never slept in that late. Something wrong had happened. Maybe he went against the Pawpers gang all by himself again. He never cared about his own safety anywhere he went, and it had seemed to get worse after Nick left.
"Finnick, you better be sleeping right now! Don't scare me like this!" he screamed as he sped up through the calm streets of Downtown, taking every alley and shortcut he knew to get to the fennec as fast as possible. Finnick didn't like hearing it, but Greg loved him like an actual uncle, or even a father. If something happened to him, he wouldn't know what to do.
He arrived at the alley where the van was parked and got out the spare keys for the back door, inserting the key and opening it with a rush. When he looked in…
"You're alive!" said Greg, hugging his deeply asleep uncle, who had been awakened by the sudden ruckus that he caused.
"Whut the hell do you mean, Greg?" Finnick asked, still half-asleep.
"You scared the heck outta me! You never sleep past ten!"
"Can't I break routine once in a while?"
"You never break routine!"
"Okay, fine, fine. I did what you said. I thanked her for the meal…and then we kept talking. A lot."
Greg smiled. "Well well well am I hearing that right? Did Uncle Fin just listen to me? The most stubborn fox in the world?"
"Don't overplay it, I still didn't tell her who I really was."
Greg stopped smiling. "You what?"
"Relax, relax. I'm gonna meet up with her in a week and then I'll tell her. I swear."
"Cross your heart?" Greg asked, crossing his arms.
"Heart crossed," said Finnick, drawing an X on his chest.
"Hmmm, fine. Wait a second, you're going on a date with her?!"
"I wouldn't call it a date. We're just gonna cook for each other. You know, as thanks for letting me eat for free."
"Uncle…" Greg started saying as he began massaging his temple. "Are you going to tell her the truth before or after you cook for her?"
To this, the fennec had no response. If he told her as soon as he saw her, she'd most likely slap him and curse him out before leaving forever. If he told her after, she'd throw the leftovers on his face before slapping him and leaving forever. It was a Lose-Lose.
"I'll figure it out when I get there," Finnick said with a smug smile.
"Why don't you just tell her now and avoid the embarrassment? I can do it for you if you wa-"
"Don't touch my phone!" The fennec said, violently taking the phone away from him while also showing his fangs. Surprised was an understatement to how Greg was feeling.
"Uncle…do you actually want to meet her?"
"Hmmh," the fennec looked away. "These are my private matters, not yours."
"Okay, fine, fine. Anyways, what do you want to do today?"
A lion roar sound came from Finnick's phone, which he checked almost instantly. "How about we take the day off today, Greg?"
"WHAT?"
"Yeah. just…go home for the day, you're dismissed."
"B-but…"
"Shut the doors on your way out," Finnick said, before checking his phone and typing it at lightning speeds.
"Ugh. Okay, I guess. Whatever you say. I just hope you know what you're doing." With that statement implanted into the fennec's brain, the arctic fox turned to leave, wondering what he was going to do for the rest of the day.
One Week Later
He hadn't done anything that day. After being forcefully driven out of the van by his grumpy uncle, the poor fox had done absolutely nothing the past week. Finnick had called it off. Said it was a week of healing, and that next week they'll come back stronger than ever. He had good evidence to believe that was all a complete lie.
He had to admit that part of it was his fault. If only his chivalrous spirit hadn't awakened to defend the otter he had never met, maybe Finnick would never have unearthed the contents of the phone number. It was as if a box containing every evil in the world had opened, corrupting the fennec.
"Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but he's gotta get his priorities straight. He's good one day, grumpy the other day, and now he's in love? I can never read him, even after all these years. Not to mention the fact he's walking into a bear-sized trap with that otter. I've never heard of any other hustlers that have successfully hooked up with a previous victim of theirs. That otter would have to be the most naive mammal ever. Anyway, sorry for all this venting. You're a good listener, Robbie," Greg said to the stuffed plushie of an arctic fox directly in front of him. It had been a gag gift from Nick, but he actually ended up liking it, giving him a name and serving as his shoulder to cry on every night. "Anyway, let's get to work shall we?"
Having not been able to find any work the past week, the arctic tod had to resort to his old hustles, way before he had met Nick and Finnick. With a big mound of trash that he had gathered this morning, the fox on the roof began dropping it down into one of the gutters of a random apartment building. The gig was easy: Drop a lot of trash into the gutter until it clogged, and then pass off as a domicile worker who would kindly do it for a lower price than how the usual gutter uncloggers would rate. He didn't know what they were actually called.
By some deal of destiny (and some of his famous bad luck), a baseball coming out of one of the trash bags bounced on the ground, hitting the fox straight in the snout. "Ow!" he exclaimed.
The already uneven roof coupled with the snow from Tundratown made the dizzy fox not able to find his footing, making him struggle to stay up for a few seconds, until finally he went down face first into the gutter. "Aaaaaaagh!" he screamed, hitting the pile of trash he had thrown out. He could see the food he had eaten last time, as well as the other recently eaten meals from the other tenants at his apartment.
"Help! Somebody! I'm trapped!" This is what you get, Greg, he thought. This is what you get for taking advantage of good people. This is why your parents left you. This is why Himmel will never love you. This is why-
"Hello? Is somebody there?" asked a voice outside of the gutter. Now more calm, Greg could see that the hole was fairly covered, but reachable if the person outside could just help.
"Yes! I'm here! In the gutter, please!"
"Oh my god, hold on!"
He couldn't see her face, but it was clear that the mammal knew how to dig, expertly getting trash out of the gutter by the second. In just a few minutes, he could see some light, and the mammal's face.
"I got you!" said the girl, who was somehow able to pull him out by grabbing his shirt. He felt incredible relief when he felt the ground touch the fur of his back. "Are you okay?" the girl asked.
"I'm alright," he said, getting up and dusting himself off. He immediately went to grab the mammal's paw. "Thank you so much! To whom do I owe the pleasure for my rescue?" He thought about kissing her paw, but he didn't want to scare the smaller mammal, or get himself a restriction order.
"Ehehe," the animal smiled nervously, ready to say her name. "I'm Sam."