Nick lies upon his naked stomach on the cold, wet floor of an unknown location. Darkness prevails and, even with his sensitive sight, no shapes can be distinguished. He attempts to stand but his muscles do not respond. It's as if gravity has finally won its perpetual battle against him and has locked him in an inescapable embrace. He can only lie there, breathing softly, his inhales raising him a miniscule amount off the damp stone before the exhales brings him down once again.
Using a sense, some sense beyond that of physical organs, Nick discerns Something within the darkness. He cannot see it, hear it, or smell it. But he knows it's there and it is growing closer. Fear grips him and he attempts to yank his body from the floor.
He knows it's futile.
He tries each of his limbs and his toes.
He knows it's futile.
The heart. His heart. It beats faster now. He can feel it push against the cold floor with every life-extending thump.
The Something eases closer, smoothly. Nick knows the gap is closing. He can almost feel its presence.
Almost.
Nick's maw becomes agape as his breathing quickens to a pace on par with a sprinter. His chest rises and falls with it, growing sore from the strain of being held against the ground. His heart continues to beat the stone in quick succession as if attempting to tunnel so it can escape its prison, the very prison it keeps alive.
The Something is about to strike, it's swooping down upon him now.
Nick panics.
And jerks awake.
A few seconds pass, a few seconds of lying upon his bed, face half sunken within the pillows, panting heavily. He must have thrown himself around quite a bit for he notices the bedding lying upon the floor, exposing him to the chilled air of the motel room.
Relief floods into him.
'Just a nightmare, you idiot.'
He shivers and raises himself to a sitting position.
'Just a simple nightmare.'
Blackness, he quickly realizes, prevails here as well. A sharp moment of panic returns and he lunges for his phone upon the nightstand sitting between the two beds. He activates its flashlight, being careful so that it doesn't point in Judy's direction.
'Just a simple night mare, you coward!'
The soft breath of light ricochets through the small, cheap room. A table sits in a corner with two chairs and a television rests atop a worn dresser. On the opposite side of the room, next to Judy's bed, two doors rest. One leads to the main hall and, the other, the bath amenities. This particular hotel is built for medium-sized mammals who prefer silence and no light while they sleep, a remnant of the age of burrow-dwelling.
Nick sighs and rubs his snout with the index and thumb digits of his paw, cautious of the claws. He flips the phone and glances at the screen, it auto-set for night mode so as to not blind him, and checks the time.
'6:47AM… Wow...' He sets the phone face-down upon the naked bed, the light beaming against the ceiling. 'At least I don't have to go into work.'
Bogo had given them the day off so he could figure out where to put them. He didn't want them patrolling the open street.
A soft snort emits from the neighboring bed. Nick lets loose a gentle chuckle as he glances at Judy's form, blankets pulled almost completely over her head. Two long ears with black tips poke out, bent a little as they brush against the wall. Nick watches as the form rises and falls, the delicate sound of whispered breath accompanying the movement. He watches for many minutes, his mind clearing, calming; he watches and he begins to explore a question that he's explored often.
'How had this creature broken through?'
His answered remains the same. 'By being relentless.'
He shakes his head. 'Relentless at becoming a cop; relentless at solving the Bellwether case; relentless at everything.' It was the second one that had done it. Her determination to solve it had sucked him in and it hadn't let him go.
'At least she's relentless in ways that helps this city.'
He yawns and stretches out his arms. Going back to sleep begins to appeal to him.
But there is one area where she keeps herself more restrained—discussions of the past. She has never asked about his, instead waiting for him to reveal it. Never has she asked more about what he said on the gondola.
Nick blinks, squinting his eyes a little in thought. Perhaps it is her way of attempting to see every animal on equal footing, a way for her to keep past mistakes from biasing her views on an individual. He has to admit, whether that's the reason or not, he admires it.
Another yawn escapes him.
As he continues to look upon her gently moving form, his mind slipping back into the waiting arms of sleep, his eyelids failing, the luminous spark grows a little more. But just a little. It still has, within his mind, the equivalence of a small lichen on the bottom of a turbulent ocean, clinging to a rock, whipping in the currents. What's interesting about the lichen, however, is that, despite such abuses and miniscule size, it still produces oxygen and absorbs light.
It still has an effect, albeit microscopic, much like the spark.
And, with Nick's mind in this tired state, his defenses are weak and the luminous spark finds its opportunity. Nick looks upon her and a thought bursts out.
'How long has it been since I've been held within the arms of a female?'
His eyes snap open, all tiredness draining. He cringes and quickly glances away, ashamed.
'What the hell is wrong with you?'
He hops from his bed, landing with a delicacy akin to a cat. Grabbing a shirt off the floor, he dons it and walks to the single window. This being the motel it is, the window is covered with a thick hatch that slides into the wall. This blocks every speck of light from entering, even during the day. Nick shuts off his phone's light and, with a little force, cracks the hatch. Although attempting to keep the room dim, the colors of the flame burst in, spreading themselves across the white walls, across the table with its chairs, across the television, across his own face. Momentarily, he is blinded, his night-sensitive eyes burning before they adjust, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints. Then he glances towards the heart of the city; a city on fire. Vibrant reds and yellows, like those of autumn leaves, gleam off shining towers as they bathe in the rising inferno of the sun. Nick stares upon the scene, he stares upon it and he attempts to burn the thought out of his head.
Judy opens her eyes, confused by vibrant color before quickly spotting Nick standing in front of the window. The sunrise bounces against him, mixing with the rusty red of his fur, mixing and almost blending him in completely. Curiosity sparks and, rather than calling out a greeting, she continues to watch. His ears are folded, the black tips pointed back towards her. She wonders what he's unhappy about.
'Probably the situation they've gotten themselves into.'
She thinks a moment.
'No. That doesn't feel right.'
Abruptly, he turns, and sees that she's awake and looking in his direction. For a brief moment, a moment so brief that Judy wonders if she's mistaken, Nick's ears suddenly stand straight and his eyes widen; it's as if fear has gripped him. But he recovers in the next beat, a grin spreading across his face.
"Good morning, Fluff."