Bradford sat behind his desk, casting an askance eye over the row of screens lining his desk from over his tablet: all clear, save for the odd straggler from the night shift, filing out to be replaced by bright eyes and bushy tails. It was early, early enough that even the sun seemed to be just rolling out of bed, but for a civet such as himself it was barely mid-afternoon. He loved this time of day, the way the light banded and hung in the clean summer air, the fresh smell of the night, a blend of plants, soil, and humidity, was still sharp on the wind, soon to be burned away by the heat of the sun. The sun would have little in the way of company today, the weather report was calling for a high of 110 in the non-refrigerated areas, with the heat starting early and ending late, as summer days are wont to do. And here he was, safe and sound behind his desk with the AC cranked and the newest beat by Gazelle cued up.

What a time to be alive.

The building itself was small and unassuming, but the main complex, located deep underground, was massive, occupying a significant chunk of the downtown subterranea. The enormous pumps of the station provided water pressure for the entire city, fifty billion gallons ran through there each day, from grey water, to drinking water, to the condensation collectors in the Tundra Wall, every last drop in Zootopia ran through the Bridge. Naturally, such a place needed some form of guard, and to that end it had him. He was the senior security officer; he kept a watchful eye on the well-monitored rooms of the main complex, he had the unique talent of watching multiple pictures on multiple screens simultaneously and being able to pay attention to each one. Should anyone cause any trouble he'd call up his trio of thugs in uniform to sort them out.

Speak of the devil. There was a knock at the door and he looked up to see a burly hyena smiling bashfully as she waved at him. Big Beck, as she was known, was a truly intimidating creature in appearance, two hundred pounds of muscle evenly spread over five and a half feet; she had more than enough presence to make any would-be troublemaker think twice. She was also about as punctual as a broken clock, her co-workers would probably have already had the best pick of the donuts; something he was sure to hear about later today.

"Sorry, Beck!" Bradford called out. "Cards don't work. The system is on the blink! Here, I'll buzz you in." He pressed one of the buttons on his console, a buzz rang through the air as the door unlatched.

"How long has this been going on?" Beck grumbled, tromping through the door.

"Since last night," Bradford said, sipping his coffee. "I called the Maxbell guys, I dunno when they'll be by, though."

"Is it all the way through?" Beck said, unshouldering her bag. "Like, all the way down?"

Bradford nodded. "Right down to level ten. Good news is retinal scans still work, they're on a separate system."

"Gonna be a pain in the ass, calling you up to unlatch all the doors," Beck said, shaking her head. "Sure would be great if we, y'know, didn't have to do that."

"Ayuh," Bradford said, smiling patiently. "Sure would. Alas, we live in a world where we have to obey protocol. Get used to hearing my angelic voice, Muscles!"

Beck snorted and smiled, reflexively tapping her card to the adjoining door. She paused and sighed, looking over at Bradford. "Gonna be one of those days, huh?"

Bradford shrugged. "Could be worse."

"How?"

"…I'll get back to you on that," he said, buzzing her in. "Talk to you soon, Beck."

Beck muttered her goodbye and strode through the door. Bradford smirked and adroitly watched her leave on the monitor; he noted that she had a ass you could bounce a quarter off of, ruefully contemplating the fifteen-year age difference between them. 'Ah well, Brad. As you say, life could be worse. But, then, it could be better, too…dinner and a movie…'

He was pulled from his fantasy by a sharp rapping on the glass; standing at the door was a rangy brindled gnu and quite possibly the biggest bobcat he'd ever seen. Both wore blue uniforms and short-brimmed flat-top caps bearing the Maxbell logo on the breast.

Bradford buzzed them in and laughed sharply. "My, but you boys are here early! I must have called only five hours ago!"

"Maxbell values its customers, sir," the gnu said, setting a suitcase down on the desk. "Can't have anything bad happen on our watch, can we?"

"Er, I suppose not," Bradford said as the gnu opened up his laptop and hooked it up to the mainframe. "I just wasn't expecting you to be by so soon. So, any ideas as to what the problem is?"

"Does this complex have two operating systems?" the gnu said, disinterestedly.

Bradford noticed that the bobcat, who he now identified as a lynx, was glowering at him, his mountainous shoulders tense and ready. The suit he was using was clearly meant for a larger mammal, a big cat, maybe a bear, the pants legs and sleeves were too wide and baggy, but were hemmed to fit his shorter limbs. Not to say he didn't fill it out, his shoulders and chest strained against the fabric, he was only a little shorter than Beck but probably had ten pounds on her despite it. Bradford's instincts were well honed from twenty years in security, and right now they were screaming at him that something was up; worse yet, the lynx could see it in him.

"Sir?" the gnu said, sounding somewhat impatient.

"Er, ayuh." Bradford said. "There's a second tier of security for the main pumps. Retinal scans and the like."

"There's your problem," the gnu said, disconnecting his computer. "The systems were communicating, but only one has a Maxbell program running. The other system must have seen it as a bug or something, shut it down."

"Ayuh?" Bradford said, it all sounded like computery gobbledygook to him. "You'll need to see the other system, I suppose?"

"That's right." the gnu nodded, pointing at the door. "Want to buzz us in?"

"I'm gonna get a guard up here to show you gentlemen around," Bradford said, still eyeing the lynx. "This place is like a maze, you'll need all the help you can get."

"A minute," the lynx said, his accent thick and rumbling like thunder, stepping forward and pointing at his neck. "You have a, uh, thing right here."

"A thing?" Bradford's hand touched his neck. "Here?"

"No," the lynx said, reaching out with a massive hand, Bradford noted with horror the pale caps of scarred flesh at the end of each digit, this mammal had been rounded off. Bradford's eyes snapped up and saw four glittering points in his mouth; all of his canines were gold. "Here."

Bradford moved to press the alarm when something in the sleeve caught his eye; it was a pair of shiny black eyes and a white, pointy crescent of teeth. "Hi."

A sable blur lunged out and Bradford felt hot breath caress his skin before a tearing sheet of agony ripped across the left side of his neck, both his left jugular and carotid were splayed open and great spurts of blood splattered the screens. He inhaled to scream when a massive hand clasped around his snout and hauled him clear into the air, well away from his console and any assistance he might have called for. With a flick of a wrist the civet was sent hurtling into the corner behind his desk, dimly aware of the impact as it drove his last breath from his lungs and he crumpled to the floor in a boneless pile.

Darkness flooded in, he could hear the sleeve-creature chuckling. "Eh-heh-heh-heh! Did I get it?"

"Yeah. You got it."

Judy burst through the doors to the precinct and made a bee-line for the reception desk. Clawhauser sat with bowl of cereal in his arms, watching his phone with rapt attention as Gazelle detailed her wardrobe for her upcoming concert on her weekly blog.

"Oh, that's super cute!" he muttered breathlessly. "You are magic, G!"

"Clawhauser!" Judy called, her eyes wide despite the bags under them. "I need you to buzz Greg Snoutsen right now!"

"Judy! You're here…about an hour early!" Clawhauser said, leaning forward. "Oh, honey! You look awful!"

"That's nice," Judy said, absently. "Did you call him yet?"

"Yeah…" Clawhauser called Gregory's extension with a general summons before turning back to the distracted, agitated rabbit. "Are you okay? You look like you haven't slept a wink."

"Didn't," Judy said, taking a heavy pull from her thermos. "Been thinking about the case. Gotta talk to Greg."

"Okay, what's the emergency?" Greg said as he shuffled towards them. "Oh, Detective Hopps! How're you–"

"Greg!" Judy exclaimed. "Fat!"

Greg frowned and adjusted his shirt over his protruding gut, Clawhauser scoffed, offended. "Wow. Rude!"

"What?" Judy asked, before realizing what she'd said. "No! Greg, you look great! I meant did you test the koolaid with fat?"

"Koolaid?" Clawhauser said, confused. "Is that what they were putting in the water?"

"Blood lipid tests were negative," Greg said, blushing at the compliment. "Sorry, you seem really–"

"But what about adipose tissue?" Judy interrupted. "Did you test it against any possible contaminants present in adipose tissue that may or may not get released as part of daily metabolic processes?" She gauged their astounded reactions before glibly adding: "I've been up all night researching."

"Uh?" Greg said, somewhat dumbfounded. "No, we only test with adipose tissue in cases involving heavy metal poisoning or drug tests."

"But could it?" Judy asked, desperately. "Could you test it against the koolaid?"

"I guess?" Greg beckoned her to follow. "Come on. I'll need your clearance to get more of the stuff."

The two left Clawhauser behind, scratching his head. "Man, being a detective sounds stressful, what with the Koolaid and heavy metal. Good thing I scored this desk job!" He turned back to his phone and pressed play. "Now, let's see if Gazelle got that bracelet I sent her!"

Gregory shifted in his chair as he typed the commands into the testing machine; it was a smaller, more efficient version of the ones used in Zootopia's many hospitals. Due to the massive biological variances in the population, it became not only necessary, but also critical to design a machine that could replicate the various biological processes of every species of mammal in the megapolis, from the smallest dormouse to the largest elephant, every biological function and facet was woven into the tester's programming. If there were a reaction to be had, this would be the machine to find it.

"Alright, we just have to wait for the computer to boot up, then we enter the sample and run the test," Greg said, initiating the program.

"Do we need a fat sample for this to work?" Judy said, sitting on the headrest.

"Well, we have a stockpile of flash-frozen donations–"

"It needs to be fresh," Judy said, suddenly, staring intently at the pig. "Donated within the last month or so."

Greg looked over at the biopsy needle nervously. "Uh…"

A few minutes later and Greg was rubbing at the bandage on his arm. "Ow…okay, the samples are set, the programs running, three, two, one and done!"

He clicked the mouse triumphantly and the machine hummed as its mechanism set to work. Greg smiled and turned to the twitchy, stressed-looking bunny to his right. "There! We should have the results in about an hour. Anything that comes from that fat sample will be cross-referenced with the entire ZPD toxicological database and be available with the initial report. Is there anything else I can help you with, Detective? …Detective?"

Judy's head snapped up, as though jolted from a deep sleep. "Hmm? Oh, that's great. No, I don't think I need anything else right now. Thanks Greg, you're a lifesaver!"

"It's my job!" Greg blushed and shrugged. "So, uh…you, uh, wanna grab a coffee or something?" Judy blinked and shot him a questioning look; Greg started and cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean right now! Heh! Uh, you just look really, uh, really tired is all…"

Judy smiled and shook her head, patting him on the knee. "Thanks, Greg, but I think I've had enough."

Judy's phone buzzed sang from her pocket, her ringtone a snippet of some song she couldn't quite remember; she checked the number, it was unknown, and answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Detective Hopps?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

"Speaking." Judy waved goodbye to Greg as she made for the exit.

"Ah, Detective! It's Doctor Tsume from the Bridgeway Memorial Hospital. You told me to call you as soon as Mr. Richardson woke up? Well, he has and he's asking for you by name."

"Thank you Doctor, I'll be right there!" Judy said, pocketing her phone as she took off down the hallway.

Greg sighed and shook his head. 'She's way outta your league, Greggers!'

Beck walked into the meeting room, grunting in annoyance at the plundered doughnut box, only her least favorite flavor remained; it was almost like they bought plain doughnuts just to leave them for her.

"Big Beck!" Toby called from his chair, the wiry white wolf waggled a cruller in his hand. "Sorry! Early bird gets the doughnut!"

Beck ignored this and thudded over to her other coworker, Solomon, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Solomon! Another day at the Bridge! How're the kids?"

Solomon snorted, the rippling water buffalo licked his finger and flipped the page of the doorstopper he was reading. "Belligerent and numerous. How's life on Planet Beck?"

"Can't complain," she said, with a shrug.

"Stop the presses!" Toby shouted from across the room, earning him a pen tossed at his head.

"You know, except for the massive clusterfuck that is our security system!" Beck grumbled. "Couldn't even card in, and now we're gonna have to bark at 'Ford every time we need to get somewhere!"

Toby scoffed and popped the last chunk of the cruller in his mouth. "Right? Hey Beck, he's sweet on you, you sure you couldn't go up there and give him a show in exchange for leaving the doors open?"

"Yeah, then any psycho could just walk right in!" Beck said, hiding a small blush at the mention of Bradford's crush.

"Nothing we can't handle!" Toby said, waving her off dismissively.

The sound of the door unlatching drew their attention to the far end of the room; a door that was supposed to be locked clicked and swung open, revealing two unfamiliar mammals in the doorway, a gnu and a lynx, both were wearing what appeared to be technician's uniforms. The pair marched towards them, immediately Beck realized that something was wrong. How did they get down here? Bradford wouldn't have buzzed them in without alerting them. For that matter, the door alarm should have sounded even if Bradford had unlocked it for them; it had merely unlatched and swung open.

Beck gestured for her companions to follow her; neither of them seemed to have noticed anything strange. Typical. "Sirs, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This area of the facility is strictly off limits to non-registered personnel."

The gnu laughed and smiled, brandishing his card. "We're here with Maxbell Security, we need to take a look at the control console for the inner sanctum."

"Sir, you'll have to wait at the front desk for one of our personnel to escort you," Beck said, tersely; something about this gnu and his bulky friend was setting her teeth on edge.

"Beck, c'mon!" Toby said from off to her right. "They're already here, just get me or Solomon to take 'em where they need to go."

Solomon tromped up on her left. "Yeah, it'd be wasting everyone's time sending them back up just to bring them back down!"

"We follow protocol around here!" Beck snapped, pulling out her radio. "Hold on, I'm calling Bradford."

The five of them stood in tense silence as Beck pressed the call button, only to be greeted with static. Unseen by the security guards, the gnu looked over at his lynx friend and gestured subtly at Toby, and then again at Solomon. The lynx bobbed his ears down in confirmation and stepped forward.

"Dammit!" Toby growled. "If that old codger is reading girly magazines on the shitter again, I'm going to give his fuzzies a good hard flicking!"

"Bradford reads girly magazines?" Solomon said, somewhat confounded. "Are girly magazines even a thing anymore?"

"Oh yeah," Toby said, smirking at Beck. "He's big into Serengeti Sweethearts Monthly. Like's his girls spotted and packing!"

"Man, that's not a cool thing to say…" Solomon muttered.

Beck opened her mouth to snap at the two when she saw the gnu check his watch, he scowled and gestured at the three of them. "Hey, what–"

The lynx sprang forward towards Solomon, his speed almost uncanny given his bulk, at the same time he swung his left arm out as though pushing something out of his way. Beck more felt than saw the strange dark thing that whistled through air in front of her, too preoccupied with attempting to intercept the charging cat to notice. It was only when the screams started that she even remembered that something had been thrown. She stopped in her tracks and turned around, Toby was screaming in pain as he wrestled with something wrapped around his neck, it was long and almost snakelike, wearing what appeared to be a very form-fitting black turtleneck and shorts. With a sharp, snapping motion one end of the creature pulled away, from its face and markings she immediately identified it as a ferret…and in his jaws was a long, dripping strip of skin covered with white fur. Toby's scream rose in pitch as a huge, pulsing fan of crimson burst from his neck, spraying the walls and floor as he lurched around. Toby's screaming dropped to a gurgle as he toppled towards her, his hand reached out and grabbed her sleeve, Beck rushed in to break his fall when a gout of hot blood splashed across her face, causing her to recoil in horror.

Beck reeled around to see the lynx clambering on Solomon's shoulders, a horn in one hand and the buffalo's chin in another. In a smooth, full-body yank, he wrenched Solomon's head sideways and up, twisting and ripping the base of his skull clean away from his vertebrae with a grisly, meaty snap. Solomon grunted and went limp, his head swinging bonelessly on his shattered neck as his massive frame collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. For a brief, terrible instant their eyes met; more so than horror or fear, Solomon's eyes conveyed confusion and disbelief. Beck herself very badly wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

Movement in her peripheral vision drew her attention; the gnu, overseeing the slaughter with something like pride in his eyes, casually and collectedly produced a gun and drew a bead on her. Beck could only begin to dive out of the way when the weapon fired; a belch of white smoke followed by a feeling not unlike being hit with a heavy blanket. The fabric, which she could now see was a mass of incredibly fine fibers, came alive and wrapped itself around her entire upper body before becoming solid like steel, pinning her arms to her sides. Before she could rally against the assault, a massive, muscular arm swung in and caught her across her upper chest with incredible force, knocking her off her feet and back through the air, she landed painfully, her breath exploded from her lungs as she skidded across the floor. Blinking hot tears and blood out of her eyes she looked up at the three attackers, she bared her teeth and growled in fury.

"Well, I'm glad we got that all cleared up," the gnu said, his tone dry and conversational. "Now, would you kindly show my friends and I where the main pump is?"

Nick shuffled into the precinct exactly on time, as usual, ever unwilling to give the precinct more than a minute of his personal time. Though, this time it was more out of habit than dedication to self, as he'd had more than his share of personal time the previous night; due to some events he preferred not to dwell on, he hadn't slept a wink. He'd gone longer without sleep, of course, but he felt exhausted regardless; his mind had been busy chewing over last night's events like a wad of gum, even now he felt her lips on his, her breath in his mouth, her warm, taut body in his hands. She was his partner, she was a bunny, and she was much, much younger than him. All these reasons and more should have been enough for him to brush the whole business off as ridiculous, but every time he tried to distance himself from her in his mind he remembered something: he couldn't live without her. To even contemplate backing off from their friendship galled him, but could he trust himself with her? He wanted to believe that if he could take that final step with anyone, it would be with her, but the question remained: could he do what he'd never done before, or would he simply hit that same emotional brick wall and torpedo the best relationship he'd ever had? Just thinking about it made his head hurt and stomach clench. Or maybe that was the gallon of coffee he'd drank between home and the precinct?

Nick's ears twitched at the sound of a familiar voice. "Heeeey! Nick!"

It was Clawhauser, waving enthusiastically from behind his desk. "You're here! Y'know, I just assumed you came in with Judy an hour ago!"

"That a fact?" Nick said, not really wanting to start the day with yet another shipping session. "Anyway, what's new, Claw?"

"Not much!" Clawhauser chirped. "Judy's at the hospital, your informant woke up and she got called in to talk to him. Not before she did some super-sleuth stuff with techie Greg, you should have heard her, spouting off about adipose and koolaid."

Nick smirked and shook his head, it figured that Judy would be able to brush last night off like a stray hair and get down to work. "Yeah, she's a bundle of energy, isn't she? So, any word on Interpol giving us their info on our perps?"

Clawhauser shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Oh no! You should have seen her! She looked like she hadn't slept a wink all night! This case must have really been bugging her!"

"You could say that," Nick muttered, Clawhauser was determined to prod him with the Judy-stick. "She didn't seem very hung up on it last night, though."

Clawhauser blinked and turned to Nick, his eyes narrowing as he did. "Say…you're not looking all that well rested either. Were you two up all night?"

"No," Nick said, glibly.

"You were!" Clawhauser leaned in and sniffed loudly. "Is that One Million by Alpaca Rabanne? Were you two on a date?!"

"No," Nick said, again trying to sound as dismissive as possible.

Clawhauser noticed Nick's evasiveness and drew back, his hands hovering over his mouth as he gasped in shock. "Oh…em…goodness! Nick!"

"Clawhauser," Nick said, tersely.

He leaned in, his eyes wide. "Did you two…?"

"Clawhauser, no," Nick said, his tone foreboding.

"…Have a fight?" he whispered, his expression mortified.

Nick paused, his mouth hung open for a moment before he raised his hands in faux-surrender. "You got me."

"Oh no!" Clawhauser squeaked. "It must have been really bad, she didn't even mention you earlier! Was it a bad one?"

"Oh, yeah," Nick said, sipping his coffee and avoiding eye contact. "We got right up in each other's faces."

"Oh, Nick, I'm sorry to hear that!" Clawhauser, his arms opening wide as he moved in for a hug. "Bring it in, buddy!"

"Clawhauser, at this point I'm legally obligated to warn you that I'm armed," Nick said, taking a step back.

Clawhauser paused and pulled back, crossing his arms as he pouted. "Fine! Be Mr. Ain't-Got-Time-to-Feel! But if you ever need to talk about it, you know where I'll be."

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," Nick muttered, waving goodbye over his shoulder as he walked away.

A voice carried over the din of the foyer; the rapid clopping of hooves preceded the willowy, shrieking pants of a portly lab-pig as he clomped across the room. "Detective Wilde! Detective Wilde!"

Nick turned to see Greg as he approached; his stooped over and rested his hands on his knees, gasping. "Duh-dut-ective! Wuh-wuh-whew! *gasp* P-please read! *gasp* nuh-no time!"

"Greg!" Nick exclaimed, snatching the folder from the hyperventilating tech. "Did you run all the way from the Meadowlands?!"

"It's the fat!" Greg said.

Nick sucked his teeth and shook his head. "Greg, c'mon, you look fine!"

Greg shook his head, still gasping as he reached for his inhaler. "No! It's asthma! Nervous *gasp* asthma! Caused by struh-stress! Read the goddamned folder!"

"Okay, okay, jeez!" Nick cracked open the folder; from what he could glean they had done some tests with the koolaid against 'adipose' tissue under 'standard metabolic circumstances'. Nick's brow furrowed as he read, he didn't have to be a biochemist to understand that when the koolaid came into contact with the adipose tissue, several new chemicals were released from storage and into the bloodstream, each chemical bonded with the koolaid to form something else, something familiar, something horrifying. A profoundly potent psychoactive compound that set off every alarm bell to be had in the hazardous materials database.

"Nighthowler, Detective." Greg puffed. "The koolaid breaks down fat and makes Nighthowler toxin!"

"We've got to stop calling it koolaid," Nick muttered, looking up at Greg. "The fat sample you used, could it have been contaminated in any way?"

"Yes! It was! That's exactly the problem!" Greg exclaimed, rolling up his sleeve to show the bandage from the biopsy. "It's saturated with the stuff and it came right from my own goddamn arm! When the body encounters non-soluble toxins it isolates them, stores them, in fat! When the kool–the stuff enters the body, it triggers a release of fat-stored chemicals that then bond to the, uh, catalyst, I guess, and become Nighthowler toxin! It's not a toxic substance itself; it's part of one! The other parts are somehow already present, stored in adipose tissue! I was a random donor, Detective! God knows how widespread the contamination is!"

"Oh, God!" Nick said as horror gripped him. "Imagine what would have happened if this crap got in the water! Who else knows about this?"

"I was going to tell the chief just now, I figured I should let you know so you could tell Detective Hopps." He took another puff of his inhaler. "She left for the hospital about half an hour ago"

Nick turned around, pulling on his jacket as he made for the parking lot. "Tell the Chief I'm heading out to get Hopps, we'll be back in an hour."

"Detective!" Greg called after him, holding a small vial of blue liquid. "Take this sample of the catalyst with you to the hospital. They have more advanced facilities than we do, they should be able to synthesize a test from this. Be very careful, this stuff is incredibly fast acting, as fast as a histamine response! Just a few parts per billion in water is enough to catalyze the toxin in anyone contaminated. Don't get it on your skin, don't sniff it, and for the love of God, don't ingest it!"

"Wasn't planning on it!" Nick said, pulling the keys to Car 52 from his pocket. "Catch you in a bit, Greg!"

Judy raced through the hospital doors, streaking over to the receptionist, a decidedly disinterested-looking oryx. She looked down and Judy, a gum bubble expanded from her lips, popping with a low snap. "Can I help you?"

"I need a key to Room 232," Judy said urgently. "I understand the patient is awake?"

"Lady, I just work here," the receptionist said, flatly. "I'll call them up. Hello? Yeah, there's a bunny here to see the chew-toy. Says she wants a key, but you can just let her in, right?"

Judy bristled. "Chew-toy?!"

The receptionist's eyes widened upon hearing the response and she did a double take. "Hold up! She's Judy Hopps? You're Judy Hopps?!"

"No," Judy said, tersely. "I'm very busy. Excuse me."

"Gonna go question the perp, huh?" the receptionist called after her. "I knew it! No innocent person gets put under guard like that!"

"Too early for this…" Judy grumbled as she took off down the hallway.

'That ungrateful little bitch!' Judy fumed silently. 'She doesn't even know what she owes that man in there! If he didn't call us up I never would have guessed that they were up to something! I wouldn't even have known a 'something' was up! Who knows what could have happened? 'Chew-toy'! That's disgusting! Richie risked his life to blow this thing open, and this is the thanks he gets?! When we catch him, I ought to introduce the ungrateful little idiot to a certain ferret! Nothing physical, of course, just scare her…maybe a little physical. Just a bite.'

Judy sighed and clapped her hand over her face, either not noticing or not caring about the looks of recognition she was getting. 'Wow! A little dark there, Jude! I just need to sleep a bit. Yeah…I just need to sleep a little forever. Maybe curl up and catch infinite Zs, warm and snug until entropy claims the universe. Sounds like a plan Charlie…Bran? Ugh. I need to think about something else…'

Almost immediately, thoughts of Nick flooded her mind. His calm, collected confidence, his rare genuine smile (something she secretly hoped was reserved for her and her alone) his witty, snappy sense of humor that could always bring a smile to her face and beat to her chest. That funny, unconscious way he'd inch closer to her regardless of the situation. The unwavering certainty she felt around him that, no matter what, she could just go and talk to Nick and somehow all would be right with the world.

'Yeah,' she thought to herself. 'This is a much better thing to think about than murder.'

…

His long angular face, so alluring, so perfectly proportioned as to be almost artistic. His thick, soft, and richly scented fur so saturated with his nigh-intoxicating musk as to be overwhelming. His big bright beautiful green eyes, how they pulled her in and ensnared her, those windows into his entrancing and furtive soul. The way he had looked at her the other night; the way he had wanted her.

'Uhhh…' Judy felt a familiar heat crest and wash over her whole body. 'Uh-oh.'

Hungry. There was no other word for it; he'd been hungry for her. He'd wanted her, needed her, he had to have her. Those wonderful eyes drank her in and she had acted, impulsively, recklessly, and with more than a little hunger on her part. Their mouths met, their bodies connected, and it was like nothing she'd ever felt before. Well, naturally, he was different from all the bunny guys she had sampled, being fox and all, but it was something more than that. It was like fitting, interlocking, like she suddenly knew something she didn't even know existed. Just thinking about it made part of her cry out for more, for anything, for Nick.

'Judy…' Her heart began to race. "Judy, no.'

His big strong, searching, caressing hands as they danced over her body. His expert lips, his skilled tongue, and his incredible teeth totally overpowering any response in kind she could muster. She almost gasped aloud when she recalled the sensation of those big sharp teeth scraping across the skin of her neck, how his long, skilled tongue invaded and explored her mouth. Last night in the foyer of her crappy apartment was the most incredible thirty seconds of her life, and something told her that it was a mere teaser, the amuse-bouche to something even more incredible. Something she could only guess at as of yet. Something–

'STOP!' she commanded herself. 'STOP! STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP! See, this is why we didn't get any sleep last night! Go back to thinking about murder! At least you're less likely to assault yourself in public to thoughts of Finnegan McNulty!'

Judy cringed and shuddered simultaneously, the mental equivalent having a bucket of ice water up-ended over one's head. "Bluh!"

"I know, right?" said an ox with an arrow sticking out of his shoulder, distressingly cheerful about it. "I have a newfound respect for William Tell!"

Judy muttered her apologies, almost walking past Richie's room in the process. Two burly guards, a bear and a tiger stood at the doorway, stared down at her impassively. Judy stared right back and produced her badge. "Detective Hopps, ZPD, this man is part of an ongoing investigation."

The bear guard bent down and examined the badge, with a nod he gestured to his cohort and the two stepped aside. Judy took a deep breath and steeled herself, she had no idea what condition Richie would be in, after what he'd been through, she'd be surprised if he was even sane anymore. She entered.

Standing around the bed was Doctor Tsume, a smallish brown badger, an attending nurse, and a mammal she hadn't met before. He was a tallish ram with close-cut wool and wore a well-fitting blue suit with had a badge looped around his neck: he was an agent of Interpol.

"Detective Hopps, I'm Agent Bales, Interpol," he said, his accent low and rolling. "I'm glad you could make it on such short notice."

"Pleased to meet you." Judy shook his hand and walked over to the bed and gasped; it had been dark the last time she had seen him, and his face was a nearly indecipherable ruin, but here, under the hard clean light of the fluorescents above, his injuries tended to, she could see the true extent of the damage. His face had been shaved and cleaned before surgery and the bandages that had been placed there afterwards had since been removed as the protein sutures took hold. Dark lines crisscrossed his face where surgeons had closed him back up, they were hard lines, intersecting, they made it seem as though his face had somehow shattered like a dinner plate. Worst of all was his missing eye, it had been affixed with a patch, but the tissue surrounding the empty socket was a raw mass of masticated tissue. The remaining eye stared out blankly, glazed and unseeing, on occasion it blinked in a slow, drugged fashion. "How is he?"

"Better than he looks," Doctor Tsume said. "All of his wounds are healing at optimum rates, the nerve damage in his facial region was surprisingly minimal, barring any unforeseen complications during reconstructive surgery, he should regain as much as 80% functionality of his facial musculature. All in all I'd say he's doing quite well, considering."

"His hand…" Judy said, examining the bandaged stump.

"There was nothing we could do for it," the nurse said, sadly. "It was just too…chewed up. But we're going to get him prepped for a prosthetic, maybe even one of those new mechanical hands."

"That'd be expensive," Judy said, eying up Agent Bales. "How's he going to pay for all this, exactly?"

Agent Bales stepped forward and cleared his throat. "That's what I'm here for. Mr. Richardson is in possession of some very valuable information regarding his former employers. Naturally, Interpol is willing to make certain…offers, in exchange for services. Freedom, witness protection, medical, et al. But we need his cooperation, first."

"And I'm assuming that's why I'm here," Judy said, flatly.

"Yes. Mr. Richardson refused to speak with us until you arrived." Agent Bales shot the body in the bed a sour look. "I would greatly appreciate it if you could convince him to play ball."

"Well, I'll give your offer a look, make sure he's not getting screwed over," Judy said, taking the dossier from Agent Bales before jabbing a thumb over her shoulder at Richie. "Also, I'm gonna want to wait until he's not doped to the gills before I consult him on anything."

"He was suffering from a panic attack shortly before you arrived. We had to give him a mild sedative to prevent him from injuring himself," Doctor Tsume intervened. "Post-traumatic stress is extremely common after, er, injuries of this nature. He should be completely cogent, Detective."

"…Izzat you, Judy?" Richie mumbled from behind her, pawing at the air with his good hand. "Where are you? I can't really turn my head."

"I'm here, Richie," Judy said, taking his hand in hers. "How're you holding up?"

"Been better," he croaked. "A little tender. But this morphine is pretty great. My hand up and ran off, though, I'm not too jazzed about that."

Judy gave a strained smile, unsure of what to say. "I hear you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah." Richie pointed at the agent. "This sour fuck wants me to cut a deal. I wanted you here to make sure no one tried to screw me over. I'm a little out of sorts, you know?"

"Even after all that's happened, you still trust me that much?" Judy said, sadly.

"Sure I do," Richie said, his speech slow and slightly slurred from the morphine. "You saved me, remember?"

Judy turned away from his ruined face and looked down at his bandaged stump. "Not all of you."

Richie frowned for a moment and looked at his left arm, bandages tightly woven around a limb that terminated far sooner than it should have. He reached up and touched the patch over his eye. He smirked and nudged Judy, holding up is stump and pointing at his face. "Hey, it's not all bad. Suppose they get me a hook for a hand, with this eyepatch I'd have some sort of a pirate thing going on!" he bent his fingers into a hook and waved his good arm about. "Yar!"

Judy giggled and smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "I think you've had a bit too much morphine."

"Excuse me," Agent Bales said, stepping forward. "I can see that you're in a better headspace now, Mr. Richardson. As you can see, Detective Hopps is here with us; you have nothing to be concerned about. Now. I'd like to discuss with you the terms of this agreement we have penned up for you–"

Richie slumped back in the bed, weakly beckoning the agent forward. The agent complied and leaned in, Richie muttered something and waved him in closer, and again Agent Bales complied. When he was close enough Richie leaned forward and nibbled the wool on the side of his face.

Bales grunted in alarm and pulled back, Richie made a show of spitting and sputtering. "Bleh! That's the worst cotton candy I've ever tasted!"

Judy giggled and Agent Bales bristled, clearing his throat curtly. "Well, clearly you're not thinking straight. I'll come back later when you are in full control of your faculties!"

"Buh-bye fluff!" Richie croaked as Bales stormed out of the room. "…Prat."

"Don't burn that bridge too early, Rich," Judy warned. "You still need him to get you into a protection program."

"I know, I know," Richie said. "I just wanted to have some fun with him. But I really would feel more comfortable if you'd make sure that they're not trying to screw me over. I've had my share of people trying to get at my team through me, and every time they tried to toss me under the bus! I'm coming out on top this time, you know?"

"I'll see what I can do," Judy said, patting his hand. "But I need to know, Richie. Will they try it again?"

"What?" Richie said. "To destroy the city? Oh, yeah. Count on it. They're getting paid too much to back out now, not to mention the reputations and egos and whatnot. Nah, you'll hear from them again, guaranteed. Also…you'll probably hear from them soon enough, too."

"Them?" Judy said, brow furrowing. "You mean the Boss?"

Richie nodded. "Yeah. They were paying us wads of cash to do this job, and that's not the half of it! The stuff, the blue stuff, it's just part of the puzzle! You can run all the tests on it that you want; they'll all come back negative! See, it's–"

"In the fat," Judy interrupted. "I know. I'm waiting on results from the lab. Tell me, Richie, what is it?"

Richie blinked and shrugged. "Don't know. It's bad whatever it is! And it's in everyone! Finn was given a bunch of charts and documents from OmniGreen and Bug Burga, sales figures and stuff. My guess is that whatever it is, it's in the food, yeah? Boss got it into the food somehow and now they're looking to set it off with the catalyst in the water. Boss spent all that time and money putting this thing together, they're not gonna be satisfied until they have the city's still-beating heart on a platter!"

Judy sighed and massaged her temples; this case just kept getting worse and worse. "Do you think you'd be able to tell me where your former teammates would be right now? Do you know any safehouses, any hideouts, anything like that?"

Richie shook his head. "Nothing that'd help. We had two safehouses before we set up shop in the pumphouse, but Elim wouldn't go back to them, especially since you have me in your pocket. Other than that, they could be anywhere. Sorry I can't be more help, Judy."

Judy smiled and got to her feet. "Thanks anyway Richie. I'll be in touch; you let me know if Mr. Bales give you any trouble."

Judy made for the door and was about to exit when Richie called out to her. "Judy! I don't know what they'll do next exactly, but it'll have something to do with the water, the catalyst won't work otherwise. I'm sorry, but that's all I've got."

"Thanks Richie, I–" Judy paused mid-sentence as a flash, a revelation, seized her once again. "The beating heart of the city…on a platter…hmmm…"

"What?"

"Don't know," Judy said, distantly. "Could be nothing. Could be everything. You rest up, I'll be in touch."

Richie blinked and nodded, noticing that she was leaving again. "Yeah, okay…Judy!"

Judy stopped and turned around. "What?"

"…Please, be careful."

Beck grunted as she was thrown against the wall, her arms still pinned, she brought her foot up and caught the charging lynx in the gut and kicked out, sending him sprawling back with a yelp. She reeled around and took off down the hall, charging headlong at the gnu. The skinny bovid sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes, depressing a little yellow button on the side of the gun. Beck grunted as the charge raced through her body, her muscles seizing and spasming uncontrollably. She fell to the ground and grunted as she convulsed in agony.

"Metallic hydrogen power cell," the gnu said mockingly, still holding down the button. "I could do this aaaaall day!"

He finally stopped and Beck groaned in relief, panting on the floor. The lynx stomped towards her, growling as he bent over and grabbed her. With what seemed to be no effort at all, he hoisted her two hundred pound bulk clear off the ground. "Do not do that again."

Beck opened her mouth to retort when a massive fist plowed into her gut, driving the wind from her lungs in a single wheezing grunt. She dropped to her knees as raw agony flared inside her abdomen, making it hard to concentrate. She looked up to glower at her captor when she saw the same massive fist swing towards her face. The impact jerked her head to the side and stars exploded behind her eyes as a hideous pain burst along the side of her face. The power of the blow sprawled her out on the ground, she rolled onto her back and groaned, her thoughts jumbled and sludgy as she prayed for the world to stop spinning. A powerful hand grasped her by the foot and dragged her down the hall.

"Careful, Grigori," the gnu said, somewhat annoyed. "We still need her pupils to dilate."

"Whatever," 'Grigori' grumbled. "Felt good."

The minutes bled into each other as she was dragged, by the time her head had cleared, both her belly and face throbbed abominably, Beck couldn't so much as summon the will to badmouth her captors. They stopped in front of a large, sliding steel door that sported two separate retinal scan stations: the elevator that led to the main pump access station. Beck groaned as she was lifted bodily off the ground and placed on her shaky feet in front of the scanner, the lynx roughly grabbed the back of her head.

'What? Don't they get it?' Beck thought to herself. 'There are two stations because it needs two retinal scans to get through! And the only other person here with clearance is…was…Solomon! I could use this, when the big guy goes off to drag his body, I'll charge the skinny grazer and deactivate this net. If it's anything like the net launchers in SWAT, the release tag should be on the front of the barrel! Yeah! I can do this!'

"Finn," the gnu said, holding out his hand. "If you would."

'Finn' stooped over and spat something small and white into the gnu's open palm. Her eyes widened with horror when she saw what it was; an eye. The lynx shoved her face into the scanner, the green light ran up and down her eye and beeped, her identification was cleared. She looked over and saw the gnu holding the disembodied eye up to the scanner, making sure it was aligned before pressing the button. The machine beeped and the all-clear alarm sounded, from behind the door the elevator engine began to hum, hauling the large cage-lift up the three hundred foot shaft.

The gnu looked over at her and smirked, walking over with the eyeball dangling between his fingers. "Are there any more retinal scans we should know about? Our schematics seem to think that this is the only one. Is that true?"

Beck stared at the eye, it was brown and somewhat small, definitely Solomon's. Was it just in that ferret's mouth?!

"Hey," the gnu said, snapping his fingers, drawing her attention by dangling the eyeball. "You want to end up like this guy? Answer the fucking question!"

"N-no," she stammered, internally appalled at how weak she sounded. "No more."

The gnu smiled and tossed the eyeball over his shoulder, it landed somewhere in the hall with wet splat. "Oh, good. Heh! You probably have some questions."

'Yeah, no shit!' she screamed internally. 'Who the hell are you psychos?!'

"See, the cornea has to be kept wet or else it clouds over and fucks with the scan. In fact, the only reason we're dragging your heavy ass around is because optic juice is an acquired taste. Isn't that right, Finn?"

Finn kissed his fingertips in a bellissimo gesture. "Mwah!"

"So…" he drawled, wiping his hands on her shirt, thin streaks of eye-gunk sticking to the fabric. "If you take nothing else from all that unpleasantness, let it be this: that whole thing, that was business…now imagine what we do when we're angry. Keep still, keep quiet, and maybe you live to see sundown, yeah?"

Beck swallowed hard and nodded.

The door whirred and opened and the four filed inside, it was a barebones, cage-style, with not much of a view outside of the seemingly endless concrete shaft it occupied. The four filed in and, with the press of a button the engines sprang to life and the elevator began its slow, steady decent into the bowels of the complex.

"Heh!" the gnu said suddenly, nudging Finn. "What's it say about our lives when that's the third time you've spat an eyeball into my hand?"

"Fourth,' the ferret corrected. "That was the fourth time."

"What? No! Remember, there was the Newton heist, that military base in La Cucaracha, and that big clusterfuck down in Griffe du Tigre." The gnu counted off each example on his fingers. "See? Three?"

"No. Remember that Gazelle concert?" said Finn. "You know, with the back-up dancer and the red antelope?"

"Yeah, yeah, Finn's right, Elim," Grigori chipped in. "Remember, the afterparty? And that guy just wouldn't stop going on about his ponderosas?"

'Elim' paused for a moment, as though in deep thought, before snapping his fingers. "Oh yeah! Right! Man, that was a weird party."

The other two assented and the elevator went quiet again, only the droning engine made any noise. Tension was thick in the air, a low rapid tapping began; Finn drummed his claws on the metal pipe hand railing as he stared off into the middle distance, unconsciously chewing his lip.

"Finn," Elim scolded. "Stoppit."

"Sorry, Elim," Finn said, bashfully. "Just, uh, a little nervous."

"You?!" Elim and Grigori exclaimed in unison.

The ferret looked defensive and crossed his arm across his chest. "What? I get nervous too, sometimes! It's just this is it, the big job, the last big job! We've been through so much already, this whole thing has been a massive clusterfuck, but here we are! Ready to go! I'm just…I'm just waiting for something to go wrong, y'know?"

Elim looked over at Grigori, a strangely warm smile on his face. Grigori arched an eyebrow in confusion. Elim cleared his throat and, to Beck's bewilderment, began to sing.

"We coulda been anything that we wanted to be

But don't it make your heart glad?

That we decided

A fact we take pride in

We became the best at being baaaad!"

Finn turned around, shocked, when Grigori began to pitch in.

"We coulda been anything that we wanted to be

With all the talent we had

No doubt about it

We fight and we tout it

We're the very best at being baaad guuuys!"

"We're rotten to the cooore!" Elim sang.

"My congratulations, no one likes you anymooore!" Grigori crooned.

"Baaad guuuys!" They sang in unison.

Finn broke in, grinning widely. "We're the very worst! Each of us contemptible, we're criticized and cursed!"

The three leapt into a circle around each other and sang in harmony.

"We made the big time

Malicious and mad

We're the very best at being baaaad!

We coulda been anything that we wanted to be

We took the easy way out

With little training, we mastered complaining

Manners seemed unnecessary

We're so rude it's almost scary!

We coulda been anything that we wanted to be

With all the talent we had

With little practice, we made every black list

We're the very best at being baaad!"

The trio broke apart and began to laugh, jostling and high-fiving each other. Finn darted in between Grigori and Elim and hugged their shins. "I love you guys!"

'What the FUCK is going on?!' Beck thought frantically from the corner.