Fox Point

by MaveriKat

Those who forget their history are doomed to repeat it but so are those who cannot let the past go. With the rise of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, one vixen is going to be uprooted from what she knew to live and breath the tenants of the ZPD: Trust, Integrity, and Bravery. Even if the city doesn't believe she can. Rated M for Violence, Adult Language, and Adult Situations.

6. Precinct to the Choir

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 6: Precinct to the Choir

Sitting behind the controls of the police helicopter, the navy blue-tressed Interpol officer was cursing up a storm, the female red fox doing her best to get all three sets of control in sync: the cyclic to keep the frame of the copter steady, the collective to slowly decrease the power to safely climb down in get altitude, and anti-torque pedals to make sure the tail rotor was keeping a balance between the other two forces. The simultaneous control scheme for a helicopter was a constant balancing act and the reason why, despite her better judgment, the vulpine had brought Sly on as a tail-gunner in the first place. She was too busy not only keeping the copter airborne but maneuverable as well to also shoot down that nefarious bastardization of science and sorcery. The living crime against animality: Clock-La.

The vixen gritted her teeth as she felt her anger rise. Clock-La, the result that came about when the traitorous Captain Neyla and the Clockwerk frame merged together. The treacherous tigress had willingly shed her mortal body to become a weapon of mass destruction. A weapon that was capable of firing guided missiles and energy rings, not to mention the high-powered energy blasts that had managed to severely damage her helicopter! It was bad enough trying and keep a compromised aircraft aloft but then Sly jumped ship to go free-falling amongst the wreckage of the late Arpeggio's air-fortress in an effort to save his friends from the crazed cybernetic creation while leaving her unable to assist! She would have ended up crashing too if she didn't focus on her own problems with the copter!

"Damn it, Ringtail," Carmelita hissed under her breath as she could see the plastic dials of the dashboard gauges swinging back and forth wildly. At the very least she'd been able to keep the odometers from spinning wildly as she maintained stable flight and descent. Now all that was left was to make her way back to the ground and find out how the raccoon's death-defying skydive after the robot owl turned out... one way or the other.

It took a bit of work to get the police aircraft to stay on target but eventually the helicopter safely decreased in altitude. Eventually, when it descended enough to where the Interpol agent could scope out the city, the Latina vulpine's eyes widened in shock and her heart leapt into her chest. A considerable portion of Paris' historic section was on fire. Large pieces of the aerial fortress–while mostly contained to a centralized area–were strewn all about the city, the scattered remains leaving mass destruction in their wake from where they bombarded historical buildings of grandiose handcrafted architecture and filled the Seine River with its waste; burning trees and rooftops, broken windows, downed signs, fallen telephone poles, and sparking power lines were common sights to behold among all the carnage. Large twisted chunks of steel, melted portions of plastic, broken and burning segments of lumber, shredded pieces of tarp that wafted on the wind after getting caught one something else, large cracked shards of reinforced glass, numerous torn chunks of electronics, crates of illegal spices, and all sorts of paraphernalia that went into creating and maintaining Arpeggio's airborne Hate Machine left an utter mess of devastation that could scar the city for years to come.

As further elevation was lost and she got even closer to the disaster, Carmelita would have sworn her jaw was going to disconnect from her skull by how harshly she felt it drop. While there was so much burning wreckage both in the streets and floating on the water, the majority of what lay in the river was the remains of Clock-La! Bent wing frames pierced into the riverbed and were pointing straight up as if trying desperately to take flight. Broken talons bobbed with digits clenching and unclenching as if they were still angrily grasping for a Cooper. A mechanical heart maintained a slow beat as it floated on the river atop a piece of the air-ship's hull. A mechanical set of lungs were proving to hold great buoyancy as they floated in the water. Even the head of the fearsome avian automaton was still visible, floating on its side as it bobbed along the surface of the Seine River, the hateful light in its eyes having finally gone out for good.

But more importantly, standing on the concrete riverbank that came down from the streets and onto the water for boaters to use as a pier was a trio of familiar colors: blue, purplish-pink, and green. Carmelita let off a sigh of relief at realizing the Cooper Gang had seen it through and made it out alive. They had managed to defeat Clock-La! They were heroes!

And yet, the canid cop had no joy in her heart as she knew what was coming for them. Even if Carmelita was still on the outs with Interpol, she was a woman of the law and nothing would change that. She felt a twinge of guilt at what she was going to have to do but the group needed to pay for their crimes. Even if their reasoning was valid this time around, they were still thieves! Justice had to be blind for this very reason and she could only hope for their sakes that what the trio had done this night would at least earn them some leniency in a court of law.

Her chocolate gaze scanning about, the woman realized she had something of an ideal landing spot. The sheer air-pressure from the impact had managed to push back if not uprooted a lot of street fixtures and parked vehicles that normally filled the roads. It would be a pain for the city and insurance companies but at the moment it left the policewoman a very large and open area to bring the copter down in. The Hispanic red fox kept easing back on the collective, decreasing elevation until finally, the helicopter's struts touched down in the center of a street intersection. Cutting the engine, the Interpol officer didn't wait for the propellers to finish rotating before she pushed open the side door on her left and jumped out.

The policewoman only managed a few steps before the her charge towards the group came to a sudden stop upon getting a good look at the state they were in. There was Murray, the rotund and muscular hippopotamus who served as both the Cooper gang's muscle and getaway driver. He was decked out in his maroon mask and driving goggles which clashed with his stained and torn aquamarine t-shirt and a light blue scarf that was frayed along the edges, as if threatening to unravel much like the aquatic herbivore was. He was absolutely filthy, the man covered in so much grease and oil, and a little bit of red that was seeping from harsh scraps and outright lacerations. Carmelita thought Murray to be a rather tough–albeit naïve–individual and didn't think him the sort to get all weepy over a few bumps and bruises. Yet the large herbivore's cracked goggled were completely blurred from the tears he filled them with.

However, it was what she saw resting in his tasseled maroon gloved hands that answered the woman's internal inquiry for why the hippo wept openly. There was the turtle Bentley, his bulletproof vest haggard and scratched up, barely hanging on by a literal thread, same as his pith helmet. The aquatic reptile's limbs hung limply at his sides and over the edges of the much larger mammal's meaty mitts, his breathing shallow and pained. While it was obvious the man was hurting, what really stood out to the policewoman's Inspector's Intuition was the central crack in the back of the master planner's shell, a nasty break that went straight across the center. Murray's fingers gripped tightly into the hardened surface of the smaller animal's protective shell, holding it together as tightly as he could, trying to keep the broken backside of his pal together... even though in the case of the gang's strategist, it was obvious the poor bespectacled reptile was going to end up paraplegic from then on due to a turtle's spine being part of the shell.

And finally, her visage settled on the leader of the group: Sly Cooper. There he was, clad in a familiar blue and bright yellow collared shirt, albeit with elbow-length sleeves; the garment held in place by a belt just as brightly colored as his collar with a custom buckle shaped like that of the Cooper symbol. The attire was topped off with a pair of worn blue boots that replaced his old black ones, blue gloves with yellow cuffs, and that practically trademarked blue cap of his. The old backpack he stored his loot in had also been traded in for a stylized leg pouch, one just as red as the man's former back adornment had once been.

Carmelita watched as the ring-tailed thief turned about to see her and it took every ounce of the vulpine's will to fight down the blush of arousal she could feel wanting to flush through her face. Sly had been helping her considerably the past few months stay out of the reach of Interpol after she had been framed by that backstabbing bitch Neyla but she didn't really do anything with him outside of accepting his aide to flee the scene when there was no other alternative. This was the first chance she got to really look at the raccoon since they met at Rajan's party back in India... and now she understood why she hadn't recognized him then without his mask. It had been four years since she first started chasing the master thief; a year chasing him down while he searched for his father's murderers and the pages of his family book, two years hounding him while he was mastering his craft, and then the past year trying to keep up with the thief while he hunted down the Klaw gang and the damnable Clockwerk parts they stole.

Four years of hard work was a long time. When she first started on the Cooper case after meeting him while protecting Madame Pachyderma Tuskaninny's treasured necklace of the Diva Diamond at the Parisian Opera House, the Interpol officer knew the then barely eighteen-year-old to be a bit of a string bean; lithe and agile. A boy pretending he understood the concepts and legal responsibilities being the age of majority meant. Now, at twenty-two, Sly had filled out considerably. Gone was the lankiness, replaced by the increased upper body strength of broader shoulders and slightly thicker arms. He was still lithe but the thief's body had become nicely toned, giving him an incredibly athletic build. His once softly rounded face with its deceptively boyish innocence had become more angular... manlier. Shoot, he'd even grown considerably in height! Where before the officer stood a literal head taller than the then-teenager, the suave raccoon was now taller than the vixen by a couple of inches! At least in the physical sense, Sly Cooper had become a man.

Yet, even with the change in attire and build, Sly was looking far worse for wear, the mammal covered with injuries and filth much like Murray was. His shirt had a large hole in the hemline and the left sleeve had almost fallen off completely; the arm covering coming off at the seam where it connected with the torso. His face looked more like a road map than his usual smiling visage–scratches all over his the upper left portion of his muzzle, across his right cheek and he was going to need a whole mess of stitches for his left ear. It was a good thing Sly had worn that black mask of his because it took the majority of the damage and protected a good deal of raccoon's handsome face and more importantly his eyes. And even more damning as to how bad a condition he was, the Ringtail's right hand maintained a death grip on his hooked staff; the Cooper cane he was so proud of was the only thing giving the raccoon any stability to remain standing. The item used to help him commit so many crimes was finally being used for its proper intended purpose: support.

Although he was pained, the raccoon managed to offer his favorite vixen a small, wan smile. Inspector Fox could see the pain behind both the curl of his lips and the tiredness of his eyes but the fact he still welcomed her so warmly said volumes about his character. "Hey, Carmelita..." he greeted her, fatigue apparent in his voice. "Thanks for joining the party. Sorry to tell you this, but you're a bit too late to get a few shots in on Clock-La." He told her with a tone of voice that was genuinely apologetic as well as sympathetic. He understood how much the female red fox had wanted to aid them in taking the monster down for good.

Turning her head left and right, the vulpine woman surveyed the carnage that had befallen the streets and waters of Paris. "I can see that..." she said as she carefully walked up to the nocturnal perpetrator, the woman's brown eyes drawn to the piece of machinery in his left hand that looked reminiscent to a computer's motherboard... albeit one that was almost alien in its design. Ports on either side to connect out to something–anything, really as if it were meant to grab onto even organic tissue–while two lensed segments glowed with an eerie yellow light, as if in mimic of the avian android's optic sensors.

The smile immediately left the master thief's face, leaving only an expression of regret. "This is the Hate Chip," he began to explain softly. "Bentley... he removed it to finally shut that damn bird down and... paid a great price..." he whispered in a hoarse voice, as if saying that aloud pained him more than anything else ever could. He trembled in place, dropping the piece of machinery on the ground, needing both hands to grasp onto his cane to remain upright.

Seeing him like that, the canid policewoman wanted to run to Sly, to offer him a helping hand... but she realized that even with all the physical pain the man was going through, it was the emotional kind that was doing him in. With that understanding at the forefront of her mind, the Latina vixen wanted nothing more than to hug him tight, to let him cry out his pain against her and tell him that everything would be all right! But the woman couldn't... no, she wouldn't lie to the man she cared about like that.

Yes, she could admit she cared about him to a degree. It's why seeing Sly in such a state absolutely tore the woman apart inside. However, as much as she hated not giving him the comfort he needed, Carmelita had to keep this professional: he was a crook and she an officer of the law. It wouldn't work out. But that doesn't mean I can't do anything for him, she thought firmly as she gazed down at the fallen piece of technology that lay amongst the concrete of the pier. Without a second thought, she brought her right foot down on it as hard as she could. The navy blue-haired vulpine had to put all her anger at what happened and sympathy for Sly and his gang into it, but it was enough to empower her strength of body and will to allow the thick sole of her boot to smash the damnable machinery it to pieces–hard enough that little shards of metal went flying and scattering across the ground and into the water.

And just like that, an amazing thing happened. With a noise that sounded like a trio of unearthly voices wailing out in rage and terror all at once, the Hate Chip dissipated into nothingness. When the screams stopped, the parts of the wreckage that were from Clockwerk's body began to age and deteriorate right before the eyes of those gathered. Oxidization began working at top speeds as metal withered and collapsed in on itself as it rusted from the inside-out! The numerous pieces of the atrocious avian became warped and blackened so harshly from the rapid redox reaction that it caused pitch-black smoke to rise from the mish-mash of mechanics as if they were on fire! It was an amazing sight to watch as time caught up with the ancient bird. It was more destruction to be certain, but there was almost a catharsis to be had from watching it happen. It was over. Clockwerk would never threaten anyone ever again.

Sly turned from Carmelita as he looked on at the spectacle in amazement. "You... you did it..." he whispered in both shock and awe, his brown eyes wide as he drank in the sight of the pieces of his family's greatest nemesis slowly but certainly grumbling into particles of ebony ash. "How ironic..." he murmured, still dumbstruck by what he was witnessing. "You, Carmelita... a police officer... would be the one to lift the curse from the Cooper family. The menace of Clockwerk will never again rise to threaten me... or my future children."

It was those words of awe, relief, and genuine praise that made Carmelita feel incredibly guilty about what she had to do next. Still, she had to: this was possibly her last chance to clear her name with the authorities! So bracing her nerves and steeling her heart, the vixen brought her shock pistol up to the fore and proclaimed, "Sly Cooper! You and your gang are all under arrest!" The woman gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes as she did so. She knew such was probably a fearsome expression, but intimidation wasn't the factor here. The vixen was trying to hold it together, lest she burst into tears. With all the crimes Sly and his gang committed over the years, the canid cop had to hold her ground and bring them in, even as part of her was screaming to just let them run, that this wasn't fair! To any of them!

The vixen watched as Sly's jaw moved up and down wordlessly in shock, the man completely taken aback by the fact that, yes, she was a woman of her word and had every intention of taking them all in. Even as the Hispanic fox held her weapon aloft, she watched as the raccoon's eyes darted about, searching for a quick exit, for options, his friends, anything! And yet... he seemed to ease up as he took a look at his friends once more. She had gotten a good look at them first and she was certain now Sly could see they were in no shape for a fast getaway.

She had them dead to rights.

The Cooper cane fell from the raccoon's now nerveless fingers, clattering against the concrete of the riverbank. His shoulders sagging for a moment, the thief sighed heavily before he slowly straightened back up and raised his hands aloft in surrender. "Carmelita..." he said the woman's name softly. "Please. We know this is about me... about us. So please, please let me cut deal..." he then lowered his arms, holding his hands out and close together before her, as if offering for her to put the cuffs on him. "I'll go peacefully in exchange for letting my friends walk... is that all right?" He looked up at her, his eyes practically pleading to appeal to her better nature.

Even as she kept her pistol at the ready, the vixen's own chocolate gaze looked back and forth between the raccoon and his teammates. Even she had to admit that the turtle needed medical attention ASAP and police protocol might not be fast enough to process Bentley and get him on his way to a hospital. She wanted to stop the Cooper gang but she didn't want anyone to die. So taking a deep breath akin to how the Master Thief had done, the woman nodded her head in acceptance. "Fine..." she answered as she holstered her pistol. "But they better make it quick," she warned as she withdrew a set of handcuffs and began closing it around one of the perp's wrists. "I can already hear sirens in the distance. The police will be here any moment!"

A small smile curled across Sly's muzzle, the scratches on it bleeding slightly as his facial expression tugged the wound open. He ignored the pain, just relieved that the woman accepted his proposal. He looked towards the retreating form of his friends for a moment before the raccoon returned his attention to the lovely Latina that was taking him into custody. "Thank you..." he told the Inperpol officer in all seriousness even as she secured his hands behind his back. "I mean it, Carm. Thank you."

Despite herself, the woman managed to smile slightly... knowing it might be her last chance to offer him some form of comfort. "I understand..." she told him as the sirens got even closer...

*Eeeooo~eeeooo*!

*Eeeooo~eeeooo*!

*Eeeooo~eeeooo*!

*Eeeooo~eeeooo*!

*Eee~iiiiing*!

*Ri~~iiiiing*!

*Ri~~iiiiing*!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

*Ri~~iiiiing*!

Carmelita's eyes snapped wide open, the ringtone of her cell phone's alarm exploding in her ears, forcing the vixen awake. She grumbled a bit as she shook her head, trying to throw off the sensations of fatigue and confusion, all while the loud ringing of her cellular device beckoned the woman to answer it. She blinked her eyes a couple of times, trying to make them adjust to sunlight that peeked around the slats of the window's blinders that blocked the full illumination of the morning sun. "Where's... my phone?" She murmured, her throat feeling very dry. Likely due to all the salt that was in last night's Chinese dinner.

*Ri~~iiiiing*!

"Yeah, yeah! I'm coming!" She growled out, even though her brain slowly reminded her that wasn't how phones worked. Groaning in exasperation, the woman rolled over on the bed she was using before her left hand came atop the nightstand that was to the right of the bed. Feeling around atop the piece of furniture, the Hispanic woman's hand grasped around before finally taking hold of the cell phone. She brought it to her, pulling the charger's plug out of the phone's socket as she did and causing the small chord to fall to the floor. Swiping her finger over the front of the screen, the woman brought it to the side of her head and let out a tired, "Hello?"

"CARMELITA!" The familiar voice of her boss, Commissioner-in-Chief James Barkley snapped over the phone, shocking the red fox into an alert state. "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?"

The woman blinked her eyes rapidly at that, her mind starting to speed up to catch what the man was saying. "Que?" She queried in confusion as she slowly sat up in bed despite the protests of her body, the comforter falling off to reveal the vixen slept in her undergarments. "What do you mean, 'where the hell' am I? I'm here in Zootopia! You know, that place you guilt-tripped me into flying to for this stupid publicity stunt! Where else would I be!?" She didn't mean to snap at the badger but to have him start screaming at her clear out of the blue first-thing was enough to trigger her self-defense response of getting just as loud!

The badger's voice was silent for a moment. Finally though, the vixen's boss continued to speak, albeit much calmer this time. "Sorry, sorry... I was a bit worried," he admitted apologetically. "The ZPD called me last night and this morning to inform me that their contact failed to pick you up at the airport and that you still hadn't checked into your condo or with the station. Everyone was getting a little worried something might have happened to you." He paused for a moment before firmly adding, "Including me!"

That statement made Carmelita blink her eyes in shock. "I was supposed to get a ride?" She asked as she turned about in bed, pulling her legs out from underneath the blankets and tossing them over the side of the mattress, her feet barely making contact with the floor. The Hispanic vulpine cringed as she could feel a dull throb spread throughout her body–likely the aftershocks from both being Tasered and launched into a massive pile of wood, canvas, and aluminum yesterday from a blow upside the head. "I sure as hell didn't see any police escorts, let alone someone holding a sign with my name." Ironically though, she did meet a limo driver.

"Yes, they were," James replied. "It's like I said, their contact failed. There were traffic issues. Even with their sirens the police car had to deal with road congestion that was bumper-to-bumper. By the time your ZPD contact made it to the airport, your flight had already arrived and departed for more than an hour. He missed you completely."

The vixen rolled her brown eyes, groaning in aggravation. "Well I wish someone had at least told me to expect a ride. I would have gladly traded a long afternoon of sitting on my ass in an airport lobby over the warm welcoming the animals here gave me!" Although admittedly, the policewoman met a few rather nice mammals, particularly her fellow foxes, she could have done without the humiliation of having her tail handed to her by a little rabbit.

The woman's cell phone went silent for a long time in response to that. Finally, in an eerily calm voice, the badger queried, "What happened?"

"More like what didn't happen?" Carmelita snorted in annoyance. "I took the shuttle bus to Bunnyburrow. It's a dependent province of Zootopia, much like Deerbrook County. Except they have that famous Zootopia Express monorail and I figured it would shave time off my trip to the city. I should have known I was in for a rough journey when I had all kinds of prey staring at me on the bus as if I were part of a reenactment of Rosa Barks..." she trailed off, gritting her teeth, the action causing the right side of her face to pulse with pain. "To the point: while I met a couple of nice people at the little countryside town willing to give me a hand, I otherwise got my ass kicked harder by the locals than I have on some of my more dangerous missions."

Again, silence continued to fall over the Interpol agent's phone before her boss asked, "You got your tail handed to you... by rabbits?" He chirruped incredulously, the confusion and disbelief apparent in his tone. "You, Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox, who has successfully handled some of the strongest, most physically imposing criminals on record... got beat up by bunnies?" It was obvious the mustached mustelidae was having real trouble trying to comprehend what his subordinate was telling him.

"Small-minded, specist bunnies with Tasers and know how to use the strongest muscles in their bodies to curb stomp a person," the female red fox spat out bitterly. "Bunnies who attacked before, as you said yourself, I had a chance to register with the local police and without full jurisdiction, it would have been next-to-worthless to try and administer warrants or arrests..."

Again, silence followed. "I suppose..." Barkley softly murmured. "But, seriously... rabbits?"

The vulpine frowned a bit at the disbelief her superior had over the event so decided that perhaps a bit of fact-sharing was in order. After all, with how often her boss spouted off the wisdom of Winston Churchill, he would appreciate a bit of political history. "I did a little bit of reading recently. Did you hear about the clumsy bear who was President of the United States?"

There was a pause on the other end as the badger considered that. "You mean former President Gerald Ford? What about him?"

"The same," Carmelita replied as she shimmied back and forth where she sat, trying to loosen up the stiffness in her spine. "One time he went fishing and got attacked by some wild rabbit who swam across the river, jumped in his boat, and drop-kicked him into the lake."

Silence reigned for a moment before the man on the other end of the line could gather his wits. "Where on earth did you read about that?" James' voice was full of obvious confusion.

"Supplemental materials a friend of mine sent me after I texted him last night about what occurred," the vixen said in all seriousness. "I suppose it was his attempt at cheering me up over what happened but he's always been a bit socially awkward." Not for lack of trying though, Bentley really did his best to get over his social ineptitude. For someone who was so intelligent, he still had a ways to go on his social graces.

The phone was quiet again but this time for merely a moment. "So... you'll tell your friends you safely arrived but not the people you're supposed to be working with?" The annoyance that was now lacing the badger's voice was clear as day.

Pushing herself out from the bed to stand up, the Latina woman winced as she felt pain continue to pulse, every muscle in her body protesting her decision to leave the comfort of the four-post bed the Interpol agent had been allowed to use. "Well, yeah. Because my friends care for me," she said pointedly. "Just as you care for your friends... which is why you called up first thing to chew me out, right?" She could already feel the heat starting to rise in her voice and it was taking all her power to keep from snapping at her boss again.

The vixen could hear the sounds of her boss mulling it over, a soft 'hmm' making its way over the line before he began to speak up once more. "I'm sensing that something else happened. Even if you got lost, you should have made it to your condo..."

Carmelita growled before speaking again, talking to her superior in a very... sweet... tone of voice. "Tell you what! Why don't you call the condo up yourself and ask them if someone matching my description showed up yesterday to check in and then ask what happened, okay?" She was pretty certain her cell was picking up the sound of her teeth grinding together.

The sound of James exhaling in exasperation could be heard as he breathed heavily into the phone. "It would be easier to just tell me..." he told her. "And I'm not going to like this, am I?" Never let it be said the Commission-in-Chief of the Paris Branch of Interpol was naïve.

"The outright discrimination I got walking through Zootopia was bad enough–particularly this one guy who TRIED to turn me into street pizza when I had the crosswalk lights in my favor–but when I got there, the asshole threw me out!" Carmelita snapped. "He didn't believe who I was because I'm a FOX!" She yelled into her cell phone. "Oh, but it wasn't enough to have the big rhino he keeps around as condo security throw me out, goodness no! They threw my luggage into the street where it DID get hit by a car!" She snapped irritably.

The groan that came over the line was quite audible. "God almighty..." the voice cursed over the phone. "Carmelita, I'm terribly sorry things have been so difficult already. I knew the situation was still bad but M'Bogo assured me that while tensions are high, problems like this were a thing of the past!"

Kneeling beside her open suitcase patched with silver-toned duct tape, the woman shifted through her clothes for what she needed. "Maybe around Savanna Central they are. Honestly, that was maybe the one moment even I was able to relax. Everyone handling their own thing, doing what they can, and just being an honest to goodness MAMMAL to one another... but you step OUT of that city center of bright lights and colors and Zootopia shows you its true underbelly." She withdrew a baby blue bathrobe from the luggage and stood up, holding her cell phone between her right cheek and shoulder as she put it on.

"It... it can't be... I mean..." the badger tried stumbling over his words as he tried to envision such levels of specism going on in this day and age in a first-world country.

Eyes narrowing in annoyance, Carmelita began to tie the robe's belt around her waist to keep the garment closed as she bluntly answered, "Chief. I got called the Y-word."

That was more than enough to snap through the badger's British sensibilities. "...And now I'm tempted to send covert-operations agents to Zootopia to institute a 'cultural re-education' program to the locals... preferably upside their heads!" It was one thing to be insulted, it was another thing to get called THAT to your face. It was no better than calling a hoofed mammal a Gluestick, a feline Pussy, any rodent breed Vermin, or even a lapin... CUTE.

The vulpine woman snorted in disgust but was appeased by her boss' reaction. "Damn right," the police woman murmured. "I'm just lucky one of the locals took pity on me. He witnessed what happened with the condo and decided to offer me not only a helping paw but a place to stay... not his, but that of a friend of his."

"Right," the Head of the Paris branch of Interpol replied. "I'll tell M'Bogo to get in contact with the condo association the police had booked a contract with and terminate it. At the very least, they can renegotiate another one with another condo or pay rent towards the person you're currently staying with," the man said in all seriousness. "So where are you staying?"

A rather devious smile blossomed across the woman's muzzle, knowing she was going to enjoy dropping the bomb on her boss with this one. So, doing her best to keep her tone neutral, she proudly proclaimed, "Happytown!"

Carmelita could hear the sounds of her boss mulling over that response. "I'm not too familiar with..." he trailed off. "Wait! Isn't that... Carm, are you telling me you're going undercover as a prostitute?"

Her eyes immediately narrowed in blazing fury. "NO!" The Latina red fox snapped into the phone. "I'm talking about the ghetto they segregated the predators into when this place was first founded!" Her shoulders sagged, the woman feeling a lot of her strength leave her with that outburst. "This area of Zootopia is a ghost town now. Just looking out my window gives me the sensation that I survived the end of the world." Well, that or she landed directly into a horror movie. Considering what she'd gone through so far, such wasn't an unfair observation to make.

A heavy sigh came from the earpiece of the vulpine policewoman's cell phone. "Bloody hell..." the voice grumbled irritably. After a moment, the Hispanic vixen's boss queried, "Are you going to be all right out there in no-mammal's land?"

"I'll live," the Interpol Inspector grumbled irritably. "I just need to take a day to myself, work out the kinks the locals left my body in and prepare myself to get back to what needs to be done. So if the local police department has a problem with me not checking, give them this number so they can hash things out with me. All right? Today is my day."

The sudden pause on the line made Carmelita realize she wasn't going to like her boss' response. "...They wanted you to come over right away to get your uniform and gear. The Mayor already announced he was holding a press conference assembly first thing tomorrow morning at the station: eight am sharp."

Yep. She did not like what she heard. "Tomorrow-today or tomorrow-tomorrow?" The vixen with navy-blue tresses asked, knowing that sometimes when people said, 'tomorrow' they were a day behind because of time zones and meant that day.

"Tomorrow-tomorrow," the badger explained. "Meaning it doesn't matter to city hall how badly you got beat up, they need you to bust your butt further and hightail it back to Savanna Central. Pick up your gear and then do what you need... which sounds like you need a chiropractor and a hot shower," he admitted. Taking a deep breath, the older policeman apologized, "I am terribly sorry to put you on the spot like this, but you know how bureaucrats are..."

"...Culos putos..." the woman practically spat. Oh like HELL she was making that trip on foot: it was two hours if not more to get to the station from where the vixen was staying at the forgotten Happytown District and she wasn't going to shell out the cash for a ride if she didn't have to! "Look, I'll think of something. Just give them my phone number so if they have any problems, they can call me and I can clear things up."

"I'll do that," the woman's boss promised her. "Besides, after what you told me I believe I need to have a chat with my old pal about things."

Nodding her head in appreciation of that, the woman held her phone firmly to the side of her head. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" The female red fox grinned as her superior let off a rather loud snort in response.

"My dear Officer Fox," the badger began in earnest. "If I followed that advice, it would just lead to me merely listening to said advice. You're the one who taught me there's a major difference between getting advice and actually using it." Although he knew the woman wouldn't admit it, she had been quite the Latin spitfire when he first brought her on as his protégé... not to mention she still was to a certain degree.

The woman's smile was more genuine at that. "That I did," Carmelita said with a bit of pride as she sat back down on the bed. She then pulled the set of slippers out of her robe's left pocket and laid them out atop the mattress. Cradling the phone between her right cheek and shoulder once more to stabilize it, the vulpine woman began to carefully put her footwear on. "Trust me, I'll get what I need from the station... I may or may not be the one to personally pick my gear up, but I do have options available to me."

The Commissioner-in-Chief considered that response before answering in return. "Well... I suppose so. Just make sure you're able to get it done today, my dear Inspector Fox."

She nodded her head. "Right... so please relax, Chief. You call M'Bogo and tell him either I or someone of my choosing is going to be picking up my gear. I promise, this will get done," the navy blue-haired canid woman replied as she stood up, making sure her feet were securely settled inside of her slippers. "You'll hear from me soon, okay?"

"All right..." came the tired voice of Chief Barkley. "Like I said, I'll have words with Big Driis as soon as I can and let him know I am very disappointed with the start you've had and that the situation with your equipment will be handled one way or another today... hopefully I can guilt him into giving you a squad car. If you're a ways off from the station, it sounds like you're going to need something to make commuting easier."

The vulpine beauty smiled considerably. A police cruiser was exactly what she needed, considering Honey's earlier request. "That would be great, Chief. Thank you again. I'll talk to you soon," the Latina red fox said, bidding her superior adieu before sliding her thumb across the screen of her cell phone and cutting the connection. "Dios bueno..." she muttered in annoyance before letting off a long sigh.

As professional as it would have been to go in person and handle the situation head on... the fact of the matter was she felt like complete and utter hell. If the Interpol Inspector was going to be up and about on the job or at least feel SOMEWHAT like a regular mammal when she clocked in for the first time... the vixen needed the entire day to rest and a large dose of arthritis-strength Tylenol. "Infierno! What I really need a long weekend... but I'll take what I can get," the woman thought as she limped out the bedroom she was using and into the ranch house proper. She made her way towards the kitchen carefully as to not aggravate her already sore muscles and aching bones. With her cell phone still in hand, the vulpine looked through her contacts list. "Time to see if Nick was being legit about his offer..."

The Hispanic vixen tapped her thumb on man's name in her contact page and waited. Within moments, the phone began to ring again; only once as it was picked up right after that first chime. "Hello, hello! You have reached Wilde Times Inc.: where we all take a walk on the Wilde side! Proprietor Nicholas P. Wilde, speaking!"

A small smirk crossed the vixen's muzzle as she heard the familiar and somewhat suave voice of her fellow vulpine on the line. "Hola, Nick!" She greeted, a bit more cheerfully than she felt. "Sorry to call you this early but I've already found myself in need of your services," she admitted, feeling a tad guilty about depending on him so soon, even if she was paying for it. "Do you think you can come over?"

A small laugh, full of light-hearted mirth came over the line. "Carm, just step outside and we'll talk in my office."

That made the vixen blink her brown eyes once, twice, thrice. "...Que?"

Again, a mischievous chuckle was heard over the cell phone. "You'll see when you step outside," came the male red fox's amused reply.

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Carmelita blinked a few times at the sight she was beholden to. Bringing her right hand up, she rubbed her eyes for a moment before lowering her paw. The policewoman had to blink again, just flabbergasted by the sight that greeted her. "...You work out of the barn!?" The Hispanic vixen was able to finally ask once she got over the sight of the man sunning himself while sipping on an iced drink outside of the honey badger's home.

"Of course not," the male red fox replied as he sat outside the run-down building in a lawn-chair, sunglasses drawn over his face as he sipped through a twisted crazy straw that went straight into a cup of Snarlbuck's iced coffee he held in his hand. Setting down his folded mirror that he'd been using to sun his fur atop a crate to his left, the man explained, "I'm merely using the barn for storage while I get my own living situation re-settled. My office is the great outdoors!"

Granted, the canid conman was currently taking up residence underneath the bridge that led to Honey's property but the vixen didn't need to know that. He may have been a, 'creative entrepreneur' of shady legitimacy but he didn't want her to think of him as some lowly troll. After all, he didn't need to drive animals nuts on the internet to find personal happiness.

The vixen just continued stare at the sly vulpine male as he continued to lounge there on a piece of beach furniture, using an upturned plastic bucket as a foot stool. "You, Mr. Wilde are one rather unique individual..." Carmelita replied with some slight confusion as she looked about the set-up the man put together for himself. "And how long have you been out here?"

"Since six am," he half-confessed. Granted, he'd been sleeping outside all night but he had left for the city and came back around six with his breakfast. "By the way, I brought you a coffee..." he said as he motioned to the currently untouched large–sorry, venti–cup of iced coffee atop the plank wood crate he was using as a desk. "It's French vanilla flavored with four creams and three shots of liquid sugar."

The female vulpine's eyes widen in complete surprise at what he told her. "How'd you know I liked French vanilla?" Let alone exactly how she took her coffee!

The male red fox merely shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you did say you came from France so... educated guess," he replied with a small chuckle as the woman began to pout. Despite her being the more physically imposing of the two of them, there was something so adorable about seeing the woman annoyed. "As for the rest? Well, you seem like someone who likes their coffee light and sweet and personally? I find regular sugar remains too granular at the levels needed to sweeten up a lar—venti cup of iced coffee but liquid sugar mixes just right."

The Latina beauty could only give a firm nod of her head, causing her navy blue tresses to bob with the motion. It was true: those were the exact reasons why she took her coffee that way. "Well, thank you," she said in gratitude. "As for why I wanted to talk to you... well, it's like I said on the phone. I guess I have my first job for you and Finnick."

"Oh really now?" Nick perked up, a smile blossoming on his face at the thought of the green coming his way. "Is that a fact, Miss Fox?" He cooed with interest as he sat up to show he was giving the woman his full attention. "And what may my partner and I do for you today?"

Coming over to stand beside her fellow vulpine, Carmelita picked up her coffee. She smiled a little as the cold the ice cubes interspersed through the liquid felt rather nice against her hands and she had to fight the temptation to press the side of the plastic cup against the right side of her face. "Apparently the ZPD began freaking out when I didn't check in yesterday with them... starting with the fact they utterly failed to have someone pick me up from the airport," she began to explain in all seriousness before she took the small plastic lid off the top and took a swig directly from her cup. Smacking her lips for a moment, the Hispanic vulpine reveled in both the taste and the sudden influx of caffeine before continuing. "They want me to come in today to pick up my uniform and equipment... and I'll be blunt. I need today for myself."

Nodding his head in understanding, Wilde smirked before replying, "In other words... you're flipping life the bird with both hands and telling them all to fuck off, that you need a, 'Me Day'."

Raising one of her navy blue eyebrows, the Interpol agent answered, "While not how I would put it... yes. That's precisely how I feel. If I'm to be in any shape tomorrow to actually DO the damn job they need me for, then I need at least a little time to recuperate from all the physical abuse these assholes have reaped on me!"

"So you need me to go in, get your stuff, and..." Nick trailed off as a thought came to him. "This isn't going to be something like, 'she's a hippo, so here's something fifty-times the size of what you really need' is it?" He'd been in situations like that before. He'd helped Finnick get Cherry an incredibly nice dress for her previous birthday... only to find the one they got–while indeed sized for a vixen–was for a red fox and not the much shorter arctic species. Ugh. If only dad was still around. Such a screw-up would never have happened, he thought bitterly.

The woman blinked her eyes. "No... well, it shouldn't be..." the vulpine beauty frowned as she considered his words. "Tell you what, Nick. If you're handed my uniforms and see anything and I mean do mean anything is off, give me a call. I'll give you or whoever is handling my police outfits my proper measurements. Considering how they've screwed up so far, I wouldn't be too surprised if they had gotten that wrong as well."

The enterprising entrepreneur smirked in a decidedly mischievous manner. "Oh, there's no need to call," he waved off his fellow red fox. "Thirty-six DD bust, thirty-four waist, four-feet five inches height, thirty-nine pounds..." he said, prattling off the woman's measurements.

Eyes going wide, the policewoman gawked as she stared down at the lounging vulpine. She had been taken off guard so thoroughly by his casual display of her personal information that she nearly dropped her coffee. "...How?" Was all she could manage to inquire, having been so taken aback by this turn of events.

"How did I know?" He asked with a knowing smile. "Well, I just happened to see the sizes while I was helping you pick up your clothes from the side-walk. And then I happened to catch sight of your passport book while I was performing an emergency duct tape operation on your luggage in the back of the van." Again, he was being honest. Those were indeed the times he saw the vixen's personal information... she just didn't need to know that he had purposely gone looking for such.

The Hispanic policewoman let off a long-suffering sigh before giving the troublesome tod a most annoyed expression. "You are so freaking lucky, Wilde. I'm too damn exhausted to make a big deal about this right now. Just don't go around blabbing all of that to everyone, all right? All I need is for you to make sure my uniforms are properly sized."

That mischievous grin of his spreading across his muzzle once more, Nick turned about in his seat. Throwing his legs over the side of his lawn chair before he sat up and saluted the woman in response with his free hand. He looked at her over the rim of his dark-tinted aviator sunglasses before replying, "Will do, Officer Fox! Just let me finish my coffee and I'll give Finnick a ring. Sure, he'll be a tad annoyed that we're getting a start so early but hey... money is money..." he wagged his eyebrows at his fellow red fox letting her know that, yes, he expected to be paid as they had agreed upon last night.

Realizing what he was getting at, the woman rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Fine. Just be prompt. I'll even throw in twenty bucks for your lunch if you two don't drag your tails on this," she offered, hoping such would be enough of an incentive to get the fox to take this job seriously.

At the offer of even more cash, Nick perked up considerably. "As the saying goes, 'I'm not gay, but twenty bucks is twenty bucks'!" He said with a devious chuckle. Seeing her raised eyebrow, he told his fellow red fox, "Oh don't fret none, Carm. I'll get it done and get back here before you know it!"

Both pleased and slightly upset by the man's–surprisingly–mercenary enthusiasm, Carmelita nodded her head in acceptance. That's just the way it was in Zootopia, she supposed. "Great. I'll go get my wallet," she said as she turned around and made her way back towards the house, unintentionally adding a sway to her hips as she went.

A sway that the male vulpine couldn't help but watch with each and every step the vixen beauty took. "Blue might not have been my favorite color growing up but it sure is becoming it..." he murmured as he was absorbed by the shimmy and shift of what the baby blue cotton bathrobe contained. Placing his coffee back on the small wooden crate, the red fox took his cell phone out of his pocket and began to search through his history. He and Finnick needed to get a move on.

He wasn't worried about having to do this for her, despite his allergies to the police station. While the short-stuff and him were but mere civilians, the crafty fox knew he could make this job of Carm's work. After all, this was also a chance to also meet up with an old friend...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was a typical morning in Savanna Central's Precinct One. The location of the Zootopia Police Department headquarters was jumping with activity, even early in the morning. A large building with ample room for press conferences and other similar events in its lobby alone currently had that space filled with officers milling about on the job. Whether they were working hard or hardly working was up for debate but either way, it was bustling with a flurry of activity as the officers did the part of keeping the city running smoothly.

Currently manning the front desk was the ZPD's resident primary desk attendant, dispatch, and public representative, one Officer Benjamin Clawhauser. The spotted feline was one of the shorter mammals working with the Zootopia Police, although that wasn't saying much. A solidly built if slightly obese cheetah–largely due to his love of The Big Donut's confectionary delights–he had a expertly groomed black-spotted golden pelt, the patterns of which were most prominent along his thick and fluffy tail. An innocent feline with a warm and cheerful personality, he filled his dark blue police uniform well... and then some!

For the moment, said feline was enjoying his usual start of the shift tradition: breakfast! His right hand firmly gripped a large bowl of his all-time favorite cereal, 'Lucky Chomps' and in his left paw, a spoon to dig in with. The super-sugary, protein-packed crunchy treat–with multi-colored high-fructose corn syrup marshmallows–gave the rotund wildcat the energy he would need to function–for all of a half hour–and the sweetness he needed to be the kind and gentle pussycat he was known for all the day long! It was a trait that had made him a delight to be around for MOST of the police force.

"Mmm~MMMM~Mmmmurrrmurrr..." he happily purred as he chewed his cereal of protein power and sugar-coated sawmill dust and bits of cicada carapaces. Yes, the connoisseur of confectionary sweets was so into his part of a complete breakfast–the most colorful part to be precise–that he didn't notice as a pair of small predators made their way up the reception desk of the police lobby.

"A~hem!" The crimson-pelted canid coughed to get the much larger feline's attention. "Hey there, Big Guy! How's it going? Remember us?" Nick chimed in merrily, hoping to get his old friend's attention.

And just like that, the portly cheetah's eyes snapped open at that sudden presence of a male voice, the familiar tone tickling at his memories of youth. "...Murphle?" was his food-muffled response before he had to roughly swallow, making a bulge that actually showed through the expanse of neck fat and nearly caused the top button of his dark blue dress shirt to pop free. With his maw cleared of cereal, the spotted feline looked left and right before he noticed a small set of triangular ears just visible over the edge of the counter.

Pushing his bowl aside and leaning over the desk, Clawhauser took a good look over the edge. His brown eyes widened with an almost child-like delight as he got a good look at not one but a pair of vulpines on the other side of the counter. "Oh... em... goodness!" The chubby feline gasped in delight. "The Nicks! It's been forever and a day since I saw you guys!" He greeted most gleefully. The last time he spent time with either them was just before he entered the Police Academy and that had been a decade ago!

The feline's exuberance made the taller of the two vulpine men laugh. "Yeah! Good to see you again, Big Guy!" He chirruped merrily. The feline might have gotten... well... fatter. BUT it was becoming obvious that the guy was still the same easy-going and naïve pred Wilde knew back in the day, despite having become a police officer.

"Emphasis on big," the fennec muttered under his breath, only to nearly fall over as he got smacked by the taller vulpine's thick and bushy tail.

Fortunately for the pair, their old friend either apparently didn't hear or–more likely–chose to ignore the crassness of the desert fox, having come to accept that aspect of Finnick long ago. "So what can I do for you two?" Clawhauser queried as he smiled brightly at the pair. "You know that if I can help, I'm willing to do what I can!" Then as an afterthought, he added, "Well... just as long as it doesn't break the law or violate regulations, that is." The chubby feline happened to like his job and didn't want to screw it up! Benjamin had worked hard after high school to get where he was, entered the Police Academy and everything! He didn't want to have to go back to working as a delivery boy for Chez Cheez's to make end's meet!

Nick chuckled. "Well you see, we're here as representatives for one Inspector Carmelita Montoya—"

"Inspector Montoya!?" the cheetah snapped in shock, interrupting the smaller predator. "You mean, you guys actually know what happened to her? Is she okay!?" Seeing the pair nod their heads in unison, an expression of utter relief spread over the feline's rounded face. "Oh thank goodness! Chief Bogo has been freaking the hache-eee-double-hockey sticks out over her!" He explained rather energetically, the feline's hands bobbing in time with his talking. "We weren't able to get into contact with her yesterday and the Chief has been so upset over it! She's apparently the best officer of one of the Chief Bogo's oldest friends and the fact she's pretty much been lost in transit also has not only him worried but the higher-ups at city hall in a tizzy!"

The small sandy-furred vulpine titled his head as he used his impressive ears to listen as his old friend prattled on about the effect Carmelita was already having on politics. "Well, this isn't what I expected," the smaller predator muttered softly as Nick nodded in agreement. Who knew a mere vixen could hold such political sway?

Arms crossed over his chest, the male red fox stood there in a relaxed position, allowing Benjamin the chance he needed to get that all off his chest. It seemed taking Carmelita on as a, 'client' was likely one of the better decisions of his career if she had the kind of clout that could leave city hall in an uproar. Time to drive it on home, the fox thought deviously before speaking aloud once more. "Oh yes! She made it all right but the poor gal had a really horrible day. Seems she couldn't even get a hotel! I mean, can you believe the nerve of some mammals? Keeping a foreigner lawfully here from checking in because of one spiteful reason or another?"

Bringing his hands up to the side of his chubby face in a show of utter shock, the spotted wildcat gasped in horror. "Oh, that's terrible!" He squeaked out in bewilderment. "I mean, it's bad enough that she couldn't get a hotel room! We also received word from the Flamingle Flats condo association that someone tried to check into her place under her name!" The feline shook his head. "Can you believe how despicable some mammals can be?"

The vulpine's left eye twitched. Oh, that certainly was the case all right... just not in the way his old pal was probably thinking. "Oh, I can imagine all too well, Benji," he replied, referring to the taller predator by his childhood nickname. "Fortunately, I was there to pick her up after I saw her booted out on her ass. It was a heart-breaking sight, I tell you."

The big cheetah nodded his head in understanding. An animal had to be a real insensitive jerk to kick a poor defenseless puppy! Or rather, a full grown Chihuahua... which was still the size of a puppy so the old saying still fit, he supposed. "Anyway, would you two mind waiting here?" He asked curiously. "I need to patch on through to Chief Bogo and tell him about this."

Nodding his head in understanding, Nick waved him off good-naturedly. "Oh, don't worry. Not a problem, my dear Benji!" He smiled wide, rather enjoying this. After all, how often did he get to be the one to run roughshod over police procedure? It was rather nice having the open-toed shoe on the other foot for once.

Smiling in relief at the other mammal's compliance, the portly policeman reached over and pulled the front desk's phone off the cradle set. As his right hand held the bright red receiver to the side of his head, the feline brought his other paw down to the intercom device settled on the countertop. He gently pressed a button and waited a moment. As soon as the first light in a set of eight illuminated on the phone's cradle, the spotted officer called out into the phone's transmitter, "Chief Bogo!"

"What it is, Clawhauser?" A deep, rough voice called out over the headset. "I'm busy with this paperwork the Mayor's office just faxed over. City Hall is having a Goddamned conniption fit right now over the missing officer! Those idiots decided to hold a press conference as soon as tomorrow without consulting with us first and no one can find Inspector Montoya!"

"That's just it, Sir!" The rotund feline chirruped excitedly. "I have her representatives here!"

Utter silence was heard from the utter end of the line, not even the man's breathing. Finally though, that deep and serious voice spoke up again. "...Send them to my office. Now."

As the line went dead, the cheetah placed the handset down on its cradle before turning his attention back to the pair. "Uh, guys? The chief wants to see you. So if you'd be so kind and head up, that would be great. Thank you."

"Not a problem!" Nick smiled and winked at him as he projected an air of independence to the cheetah. After all, he was experienced at making sure mammals didn't see they got to him. If he maintained his wall of confidence, he could make it through this challenge and earn that extra twenty bucks! "Come on, li—big guy," he corrected himself as he took hold of smaller vulpine's hand. "Time to make the donuts!"

Needless to say, Finnick was less than pleased. "We gotta go to the police chief's office!?" The smaller of the two yelped in protest as Wilde began to drag him along. "Nuh-uh!" He huffed as he roughly pulled his paw free from the red fox's grasp. "Screw that noise! I'll go wait in the van! Not going to go anywhere within the striking distance of a hardened knuckle punch or the Taser of that cop if I can help it!" He said heatedly as he started to head towards the exit. "If you need me, call me... whether to pick you up when you're done or if you need to use your one phone call to have me post bail because you get your dumb ass arrested."

Watching as the small desert fox trotted his way towards the entrance of the building, the red fox chirruped after his partner, "Would you even do it if I asked?"

"Not likely!" Finnick called back honestly, before heading out through one of the large glass doors as a much larger mammal exited pushed it open to go through as well.

Rolling his eyes, the male fox huffed at the petite vulpine's tactical retreat. Not that he could blame the little thing for his cowardice... he who cons and runs away lives to make a buck another day was the better part of valor, after all. So turning his attention away from the station's entrance and back to the uniformed feline leaning over the reception desk, the lithe vulpine was quick to query, "So Benji... which way to the Chief's office?"

"Oh, just head to the stairs at either side of the lobby and make your way to the central door on the second floor," the portly spotted wildcat replied as he used both his paws to thumb over to his left and right where sets of staircases were stationed that followed the curvature of the building's walls as they ascended to the second floor. "It'll be the door with a green wooden frame, frosted glass interior to fill it out and the surface painted with, 'Chief Bogo' top center. Seriously, you can't miss it!" He chirruped energetically.

"Thanks!" Nick smiled as he walked off towards the right and made his way up the steps, having to really raise his legs up to travel upwards as they were obviously designed with the larger mammals in mind. Once the vulpine successfully reached the second floor, he began following along the sandy-colored walls and interior plants–although he had to admit, he rather liked the feeling of the second floor's shaggy grass carpet against his paws. Coming up to the central door that was just as Clawhauser described it, the pawpsicle hustler raised his right hand up and knocked on the wood. "Hello," he called out loud enough to be heard by whoever was within the room. "I was told to come to Chief Bogo's office."

The response was nearly instantaneous. "If you're the representative for Officer Montoya, come in," was the answer muffled by the door.

Nodding his head, the vulpine took a quick breath, making sure his nerves were under control. Okay, this is it, Nick, the vulpine mentally prepped himself. Do what you need to. It's not like this guy knows you've done anything that skirts the law. Just act natural, smooth and be the sly fox you are! With that thought in mind, he jumped up to grasp the handle. Making the distance, the fox held on and turned it, allowing the barrier that allowed the office some privacy to swing inward. Releasing his hold and falling back to the floor, the canid conman was greeted to the sight of a rather burly cape buffalo in police uniform.

Noticeably, the larger mammal's right hand by the side of his head, adjusting the glasses on his face as he looked at a set of files. They were the comprised details of what the Mammal Inclusion Initiative was to pertain to and the ebony-skinned herbivore was making mental notes about what he was going to have to do with it, particularly if any changes would have to be made to accommodate their newest recruit. Hearing the noise of his office door being opened, the man replied without looking up, "Take a seat."

Nodding his head, Wilde was pleased to see the cape buffalo was amiable so far. "Thank you, Chief Bogo!" The tiny–in comparison–vulpine replied as he made his way over to the closest of the two chairs set before the massive herbivore's desk. The red fox sighed as he saw that, like the stairs, the furniture was made with much larger mammals in mind... but he still made the best of it. Climbing up the front left leg, the crimson-furred predator got up onto the seat, frowning as he settled down on it. The fox couldn't see over the edge of the man's desk. "Do you mind if I stand up on this? I can barely see you from this thing."

Nodding his head in understanding, the African buffalo began to speak. "Sure, you can stand... if... it's..." he trailed off as he lowered the paperwork, unable to finish speaking and got his first real good look at just what kind of mammal had entered his office.

The air in the room became so thick with tension that one could have cut it with a knife.

It was all too clear to Nick that the man had preconceived notions towards his species. Still, the red fox smiled as he tilted his head and blinked owlishly, appearing as innocent as possible. He wasn't about to do anything to get himself tossed into the zoo if he could help it. "Is there a problem? I mean, surely there shouldn't be a problem... right, Chief Bogo?" He grinned, giving the tall and muscular mammal one of the best smiles he could manage.

Removing his reading glasses, the male bovidae furrowed his thick eyebrows, effectively narrowing his eyes in a rather menacing manner. While the public official didn't shout, yell, start flinging accusations, or anything like that, the fact was he felt more than a little suspicious of the much smaller mammal. "How do you know Inspector Carmelita Montoya?" He queried in all seriousness. The fact the crimson-pelted canid even knew the name of the officer gave him some credibility but this person was still a fox. There was a fifty-fifty chance this whole thing was some grandiose scam.

The vulpine didn't even flinch under the muscular herbivore's scrutinizing gaze. "You mean besides the fact I'm working as her personal assistant?" He asked with a grin; knowing from experience that the best way to keep someone from getting under your skin was to get beneath theirs first. "Do I need a badge or something?"

Needless to say, Bogo wasn't impressed by how nonchalant the fox was about this. Still, he was a civilian and hadn't done anything illegal... yet. That meant he was due the same credence as every other mammal. Doesn't mean I can't work the truth out of him though, the horned herbivore thought as he straightened up in his chair, appearing more imposing as he glared down at the still smiling vulpine. "Oh? Her personal assistant, are you?" He asked, in a deceptively calm manner. "Care to tell me how that would be the case, Mister...?" he trailed off, giving the vulpine an opportunity to introduce himself.

"Wilde," the predator replied, motioning to himself with a grandiose flair. "As for how I came to be her assistant..." he shrugged. "Maybe it's because I watched as she was unlawfully ejected from Flamingle Flats and happened to be the single mammal who came to her assistance while all the taller animals just ignored her plight outright?" He offered quite honestly–because sometimes the simple truth was the best way to rile people up. "Seriously, she had a very, and I mean very rough time since she got here. And, if I may be frank? She told me all about the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. So wouldn't it make sense that she too would want to work with a fox, someone who has been under-appreciated and downtrodden?" He stared up at the large buffalo, green eyes wide as he tried to look as sweet and innocent as possible.

Inhaling deeply to where his impressive chest looked even more like a massive slab of muscle, Bogo exhaled in an aggravated sigh. When it came to that stupid Initiative of City Hall's, that much at least was true. "Even if I were to believe you, there's still the fact that I'm taking it at your word," the chief of the police said in all seriousness. "So at the very least, humor me. Tell me something that you would know about her that I know about her. And by that, I also mean it's something that other mammals wouldn't." If the fox was trying to scam him, this would be most damning. While the punishment for lying to a police officer varied on a case-by-case basis, the fact the fox would have had the gall to capitalize on the Initiative would have seen the vulpine head towards facing the severe end of justice. "So go on, Wilde... convince me."

Catching onto the underlying threat of what the cape buffalo was doing, the red fox nodded his head, outwardly projecting more confidence and ease than he actually felt. But despite his worries, Nick was an experienced hustler. It was time to put his hard-earned skills of conning to the ultimate test–something he only dared to do BECAUSE he was in the right. "Now see, that's a tough one, Chief," he replied sweetly. "Because I may know something about her that you don't and you might say it's false." The red fox idly scratched his neck, feigning disinterest. "But, sure, let's try this. Carmelita works for Interpol, the Paris branch office so understandably, she flew in from France, where she worked under one Chief James Barkley as his protégé, works as a special agent with the rank of Inspector, is quite the Latin spitfire that doesn't put up with shit for long, that you need her ASAP because the bureaucrats decided they couldn't wait to start milking this whole Initiative for all its worth, she's a tad on the loud side, prefers to take her coffee with French vanilla flavoring, four creams, and three shots of liquid sug—"

"Enough!" The police chief snapped aloud, interrupting the long-winded spiel the fox was prattling off before the bovdiae died of old age. "All right, all right... let's say for now I choose to believe you," Bogo raised a hoofed hand up quickly, halting whatever the vulpine was about to say in response. "If you were trying to hustle me, I doubt you'd know all those tidbits." He narrowed his eyes. "But just remember this: if it turns out you actually are running a scam of some sort, well..." a nasty smile spread across the buffalo's face. "I would highly suggest leaving town because you won't have any place you can hide from me."

Suppressing the shiver he knew wanted to rattle throughout his pelt, Nick pushed such desires down by energetically replying, "Oh not at all, my good Sir! This is all on the up-and-up. The Inspector just needs me to pick up her gear so she'll be ready to come in first thing tomorrow morning for this press conference you guys are holding."

The Buffalo frowned, starting to feel a tad annoyed that this fox had a comeback or answer for nearly everything he threw at him. "Just remember, the ZPD will not be handing over any weapons or other active self-defense equipment," the Chief said in a tone brooking no argument. "However, Mister... Wilde, you said your name was?" he queried, making sure he had the mammal's name in case he had to make a report about this.

Smiling in victory, the red fox nodded his head to the visibly irritated African buffalo. "That's right. Wilde," the vulpine replied as he held his hand out in a friendly gesture. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde! At your service, Chief Bogo!"

Ignoring the outstretched paw, the large and muscular slab of beef replied, "I will release Officer Montoya's uniforms, body armor, and other non-essential gear to one of my active police officers." Again, the tone was firm and menacing. "Whoever I choose will be the one to personally deliver the woman's equipment to her and have the paperwork for Officer Montoya to sign them out out..." he leaned forward his desk, his. "In other words, this transaction will have a paper-trail. Are you still all right with that, Mr. Wilde?" He pressed on, wanting to see if the vulpine had the balls to try and bluff him further.

Never let them see they get to you, Nick thought as he offered the larger, imposing mammal a wide, teeth-filled smile. Fingers laced together, he then merely shrugged before giving the calm response, "Perfectly fine. If this was a scam, my own mother would disown me in a heartbeat."

"Hrrrnnn..." the cape buffalo growled from deep within his chest as he gave the vulpine the hairy eyeball. "Fine..." the bovine cop finally relented. "Go back to the lobby and have Officer Benjamin Clawhauser take you down to the facility's armory. I'll call ahead and he will have authorization to sign out the Officer Montoya's uniform and non-essentials. You will, of course, share her address with him so he can find his own way to where she has taken up residence if he can't keep up with you..." he smirked. "Unless you need Officer Clawhauser to drive you there. I can imagine that you might have had to walk all the way here..." plus, the man liked the mental image of this sly fox being in the back of a police cruiser.

Choosing to ignore the–sadly accurate–jab that he didn't have the income to afford a vehicle, the conman chose to wave off the police chief's offer. "Oh, no worries!" The crimson-furred vulpine chirruped as he carefully jumped off from the seat. "My partner and I came down in a van. We can lead the policeman to where Carmelita's staying." Not to mention, it was a chance to have the portly cheetah stop by Honey's again. The woman had been asking for the feline for quite some time... although the fox seriously doubted they would be able to fit his fat spotted ass underneath the sink cabinet, let along through the entrance port to her bunker.

"Fine, whatever," the larger herbivore said in annoyance. "Just go take care of it," Bogo growled out as Nick nodded and left the room. As soon as the door closed, the bovine shook his head in disgust. "Ugh... I'm taking an awful risk here. I better double-check to make sure I don't regret it..." he murmured as he reached for his cell phone to notify Chief Barkley of this turn of events. Hopefully the badger knew about this already. At worst, he could just have the fox arrested for fraud while in the most highly defended spot of the station. At best... well, at best, it could have been the very unlikely outcome that the vulpine was actually telling the truth.

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"All righty!" The rotund police officer piped up merrily as he accepted the package through the port opening of the multi-material security wall while a lupine police officer stood on the other side of said grating, both for security duty as well as supply detail. "We got four full sets of uniforms here!" Benjamin replied as he turned about and offered the box to Nick.

Accepting it, the male vulpine was quick to cut through the tape with the stubby claws on his nimble fingers. He opened the large cardboard flaps and frowned at the sight that greeted him. Removing one of the blue shirts from inside the container, he held up what looked like a child's first t-shirt and replied, "What the hell is this?"

That inquiry made Clawhauser blink his eyes; not from the fact Nick was questioning it but the rather rude tone he took. "Um... it's part of Inspector Montoya's uniform," the spotted feline cop answered, wondering what the problem was. Everything was brand new, ordered just for her!

Rolling his green eyes in annoyance, the canid conman let off a sigh of exasperation. "No, Benji. If anything, this looks more like it belongs on a piece of cross-dressing cosplay for Finnick," the red fox snorted in response. "There's no way in hell this will fit her! Do you guys even know what she looks like?"

At that harsh retort, the cheetah had the decency to blush slightly with embarrassment. "Actually, we were told—"

"Nevermind," the pawpsicle hustler huffed irritably. He looked up at the tall wolven officer on the other side of the combo of chain-link fencing and bulletproof glass wall before shouting, "Hey! Hey you! Officer!" He began snapping his fingers to make sure he drew the canid policeman's attention. "You got any clothing sized more for lupine ladies?" The red fox so wanted to add, 'like yourself, dumb-dumb' but he promised Carmelita he wouldn't purposely anything to slow down the procedure... that extra twenty bucks for lunch–or maybe even a Jumbo Pop–depended on it!

Tilting his head down at the smaller canid, the caretaker for the police station's armory raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Well now, that depends..." the timber wolf replied to him from where he was stationed safely behind the chain-link fence barrier. "Why do you ask?"

"Because that is more along the size of Carmelita's height," Nick stated with a matter-of-fact tone of voice. As both the lupine and the feline officers turned their surprised gazes downwards to give him their full attention, the male fox could only reply, "I'm serious! The lady stands a whole head higher than me! She's tall for her species!"

Both members of the Zootopia police department looked at each other in surprise. "You know, Lupus," Benjamin spoke up, the cheetah being the first to find his voice. "This would explain why no one was able to find her."

The canid cop behind the metal and ballistic glass transaction barrier of the armory nodded his head in response. "True... everybody was probably looking for someone MUCH shorter..." he shook his head before turning his attention towards the fox. "Look, we might not have anything brand new, per se but we do keep all kinds of extra equipment and uniform articles back here too. If you give me a moment and some information, I can try and cobble something together so she's presentable for tomorrow."

Smiling, the vulpine nodded his head in understanding. "That's all I can ask. So what do you need to know?"

"You said she's the size of a female wolf or..." he looked down. "Well, a head taller than you. If that's the case, it sounds to me like she's more on par with a coyote... I would know! Trust me on this one," Officer Lupus said in all seriousness; he'd dated a few lovely wolf women in his day. "So which would it be?"

Brining his right hand up to his chin, the mammal rubbed at his muzzle in thought as he considered the woman's dimensions. "Okay, you might want to get pants that are more akin to a coyote in leg length but go still go with the wolf size." As the pair of policemen stared at the smaller mammal, he replied, "Trust me, she's quite busty." He brought his hands out in front of his chest for emphasis. "And I mean thirty-six DD busty!"

Those stares turned from curiosity to those of surprise. Both officers looked at each other. Clawhauser was the first to speak. "You... you think we got anything like that, Franklin?" He chirruped, so shocked he didn't address his fellow officer as such.

The lupine male nodded his head. "Yeah... I think so," the officer standing behind the wall of multi-layered polycarbonate and laminated glass began, the gears in his head already spinning. Turning his attention back to the vulpine in the green Hawaiian shirt, has asked, "I do believe I need to go to wolf-sizes for someone of that height but THAT mass. What about her legs?"

Now Nick was grinning. "Oh, she has an extremely thin waist but..." he exhaled slowly as he really thought about it. "The fact is, she needs a size thirty-four because of her hips!"

Blinking his eyes at that statement, the cheetah policeman couldn't help but query. "Hips like Gazelle, our musical savior and angel with horns?" He could hardly believe another mammal could match such perfection.

Considering that for a moment, the canid conman had to nod his head firmly. "Exactly. Really, if you shrunk down Gazelle a bit, they would likely be on par when it came to hips..." he smirked deviously and added, "And that ain't no lie!"

Benjamin stared and tried to imagine what kind of Chihuahua would be so big. "...Was her father a Great Dane?" He could only imagine how a pair of canines of such different sizes could have managed to do the deed. And no one could ever doubt that Clawhauser had imagination.

The lupine officer for his part, merely twitched at the thought. It was quite obvious that he actual knew a couple like that. "I feel horrible for her mother if that's the case!" The wolf responded, shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts.

Having caught that, Nick opened his mouth to debunk such rumors... only to have to pause. He really didn't know one way or the other if her parents were a vixen and a Great Dane. "If she does, she REALLY took after her mother's side of the family." That woman was all fox and THEN some... honest to God, the vulpine had never seen a vixen with that much, 'va-voom' in his life! And he found himself ever-so thankful that he got to.

Bringing a hand up to his chin thought, the portly feline considered that. "Maybe it's because she's Hispanic?" The obese cheetah surmised. "I mean, you compare our singer and songwriter of the heart, all-precious Gazelle to... well... any OTHER gazelle... and she is built with a body that would make all women want to be her and all men want to be WITH her!"

"And some visa-versa," Officer Lupus muttered under his breath as he eyed the feline on the other side of the barrier. Releasing an irritable sight, the police officer turned his attention back to the smaller vulpine. "Look, buddy. Just give me a bit of time. I need to look through storage..." as he turned about and walked back into the armory, the pair outside the ballistic glass and chain-link fence barrier could hear, "Where the hell am I going to find a Kevlar vest small enough for that frame yet big enough for tits that big?"

As the lupine officer left him and his tall friend to themselves, Nick turned to Clawhauser. He could use the time they were forced to wait to try and catch up with the spotted wildcat. "So, Big Guy," he chirruped. As his rotund buddy turned to face him, the vulpine continued, "What have you been up to? You look like you won an all you can eat buffet and then ate the whole place out of business." He said teasingly as he brought a hand up and gently poked his belly.

Bringing his hands down to rub where the vulpine prodded him, the cheetah pouted. "Oh, c'mon, Nick... that's not very nice!" He murmured as his hands patted over the spot, straightening out his shirt over his rounded abdomen.

Practically feeling the hurt generating off the other mammal, the red fox looked up at his buddy. "Sorry about that, Benji," he apologized genuinely. "I was just trying to get a laugh out of you. I guess I'm just a little stressed out is all..." Nick admitted before letting off a sigh as he plopped down to sit on the ground. "Mind if I level with you?" When the cheetah nodded at him, the vulpine continued. "You know how hard it is for someone like me to find places to live in this city, right?"

An expression of absolute shock immediately burst across the feline's rather chubby features. "Nick! Oh, don't tell me that you got evicted!" Clawhauser gasped, bringing his hands up to his mouth in shock. "That's horrible!"

Shaking his head, the vulpine explained, "No, no... just had to go through remodeling. I had to get all my stuff out of the place just and... guess it caught up to me." He chuckled softly, realizing that while he had made so much money over the years, he barely had a dime to his name. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that about your weight, buddy."

"It's okay," the ever-benevolent cheetah smiled as he brought a paw down to the vulpine's shoulder. He gave the fox a gentle rub for a moment before grasping and helping pull his friend back up to his feet. "Stress gets to all of us in different ways after all," the feline murmured before a thought occurred to him. "HEY! I got an idea, Nick!" The portly cheetah merrily chirruped. "You can stay at my place while they remodel your home!" He was grinning wide, energetically hopping in place as bounced on the heels of his feet, causing his folds of fat to go bouncing as well. "Oh, it'll be great! It'll give us a chance to get to know one another again, catch up on old times and rebuild our friendship!"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "...I don't know about that... I wouldn't want to put you out." Let alone, even if the fox was doing more legitimate work while Carmelita was in Zootopia, he didn't want a COP to find out what he had been doing thus far to make money. The smiling ball of spots would be obliged to bring him in!

"But Nick, friendship is magic!" The rotund feline chirruped. "Besides! I got more than enough room! I own a studio apartment right on Acacia Street in Savanna Central! Got direct access to the monorail line's Inner-Loop track; I get to work and back in less than ten minutes."

That statement made the smaller vulpine's eyes practically bulge out of his skull. For the first time today, a policeman had finally managed to catch him off-guard. "Suh-seriously!?" The vulpine squawked out. "How the heck can you afford a studio on an officer's salary, let alone one in the heart of Zootopia!?"

"Well, Mr. Bucksworth–the head of the condo association–had a really hard time selling the place because of the cult murder/suicide pact ala police shootout that the cultists fulfilled one night," Benjamin replied nonchalantly. "I knew about the whole thing because I was on dispatch that night and so I managed to talk the rent down a lot! Once I moved in, all I needed was a number of posters to cover the bullet holes, a ton of bleach, and voila! Good as new!"

Blinking his eyes a couple of times as he processed that, the vulpine tilted his head back to look up at the taller feline. "That... that's actually pretty good," Nick admitted. He couldn't fault the cheetah for doing that. HELL! Wilde wished he could have found a deal like that! It would certainly beat sleeping in a ditch somewhere.

His hands coming down to rap his fingers on his own belly, the cheetah smiled rather merrily down at the vulpine. "So you up for it, little buddy? We gonna have an extended sleepover?"

The red fox mulled over it, considering the much larger feline's offer. He knew it was genuine. Back when Benjamin, Finnick, and him were working at Chez Cheeze's down in Little Rodentia, the feline bad been one of the most naive and honest mammals the fox had ever met. He was innocent to a fault if not to the point of bordering on childish. If this all still held true for the larger pred–and Wilde got the feeling it did–then Clawhauser was only offering out of the goodness of his–likely artery-clogged–heart.

However, before Nick could answer, a cry of, "AH HA!" sounded from within the armory. The two predators turned in time to watch as Officer Franklin Lupus came marching back towards the port opening in the reinforced glass and metal barrier. "Gentlemen, we got lucky!" He said as he held up a Kevlar vest. "We have one we were keeping in storage. I checked the paperwork on this sucker: this is one that got put in back into storage because it was molded incorrectly. It was meant for Officer Fangmeyer but the company got the waist measurements wrong. There's enough room for the tiger's upper torso but no way in hell it would close around her waist. It's been waiting down here to be shipped back but I think it will help Officer Montoya."

Taking a good look at the protective armor–which, because of its waist, collapsed in the front somewhat to give it the appearance of breasts–Nick couldn't help but smirk as he nodded. "It's perfect. She's going to be quite happy to get all of this." He doubted Carm would want to squeeze her 'girls' into one of the flatter chest-pieces.

"Good," Franklin replied. "Because we don't have anything big enough for her chest but small enough for her in the back," the lupine admitted as he sat down again in the chair on his side of the wall. "Here. Let me fill out the paper work so you can take this and get going."

Nicholas looked a little perturbed. "Just the vest?" He queried. Oh, Carm wasn't going to like that at all.

The canid police officer shook his head. "No, there's more. I just need to mark down that the vest's not being returned to the production company. After that, I have to go find some pants and shirts for her before marking their codes down. Then I have to make sure that I have weapons and gear lined up for tomorrow for her and I have to file THOSE into the system as well." The wolf explained aloud before grumbling under his breath about red tape and receiving sympathetic looks from the two on the other side of the bulletproof glass. "I swear, if they want to take criminals off the streets, just have them do our red tape work for a week. They'll be so sick of having to sign forms or type into computers whenever something goes wrong that they'll all instantly reform!"

That last comment made the vulpine chuckle. "Darn right! I tell you, that is how you make criminals truly pay their debt to society. Make THEM fill out the paperwork they caused to exist. Zootopia really WOULD be a utopia in two weeks. Tops!" And he could say that! It wasn't like he was the one to break the law... outright anyway.

And the taxes didn't count! Those were to the Federal government, not Zootopia's laws!

Nodding his head, the timber wolf allowed Officer Clawhauser to take the vest through the port opening and turned about to retrieve clothing in that woman's size. As he had his back to them, he paused in his footsteps to query, "By the way... do you have a shoe size for her?"

The small red fox blinked his emerald eyes. "...Actually that might be the one thing I do NOT..." Nick admitted. He looked down at his own feet and wiggled his toes. "Well I think she's a size or two bigger than me... but that's only in foot length. So perhaps a size six?"

"Sure, sure..." the lupine officer murmured before disappearing back into the armory's storage area for non-lethal equipment and police uniforms.

As Officer Lupus left them alone once more, Clawhauser turned to his shorter friend and gave him a wry smile. "Checking out her boobs and hips but not her shoes? How typical."

Raising an eyebrow at the accusation, the vulpine crossed his arms over his chest. "Hey, now... if you saw her, you'd know exactly why I wasn't looking at her feet." Nick replied, defending himself. Seriously, Miss Fox was just... stacked in all the right places.

"Oh come on now," the chubby cheetah teased. "I am the biggest fan-boy of Gazelle there is and even I look at her shoes... and by the way? When it comes to the actual foot-wear, she has great taste in Preydas."

Nick snorted. "Well yeah. That's because Miss Hips-Don't-Lie is just that! She's got hips, so your gaze is always drawn down." He smirked deviously and teased, "I bet you don't even know what the colors of her eyes are!"

"Of course I do!" The feline policeman quickly shouted in denial, puffing himself up with pride as being one of Gazelle's biggest fans. "She's... uh... brown?"

The smirk on Wilde's face widened further. "You don't sound too sure there, Benji~iii..." he drew out his friend's name with a melodious tone in a teasing manner.

"Definitely brown!" The cheetah huffed. "What can I say? I'm not that sort of animal, Nick..." he said, as if having accepted that being a descended from carnivores was a bad thing and he shouldn't be what his nature intended of him.

"Yes, but you are a pred and she is prey... they do say opposites attract," the male vulpine replied, teasing the larger animal. Yes, he felt he could get away with gently prodding the poor blushing feline. It wasn't like Nick himself was ever going to fall for some prey animal though. Lord, that will be the day! I'd have to turn in my pred pride card if I fell for... I don't know... a rabbit of all things, he thought jokingly.

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"Ah... ah! AH~CHOO!" A certain rabbit suddenly sneezed. She brought her hand up to her face, rubbing her nose for a moment before it twitched in a rather adorable fashion. "Geeze..." she murmured as she sniffled. "Wonder what that was about..." she trailed off before smirking slightly. "Maybe someone is thinking about me!"

Judy couldn't help but giggle at herself for thinking of such a childish superstition before picking her carrot pent back up and returning to writing down all her information on the Police Academy form. She was going to join the Zootopia Police Department, come hache-eee-double-hockey sticks or high water!

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Yeah, if I fell for a rabbit, it would only be because we're going over a waterfall together, the canid conman thought before chuckling aloud.

Raising an eyebrow, the portly cheetah couldn't help but pout. "Aww... c'mon, Nick! It's not that funny..." he said with a tone of voice that was that specific note of whine only felines could manage; particularly kittens. "So it took me a bit to remember her eye color. Big whoop!"

Shaking his head good-naturedly, Nick went on to explain, "Oh, it's not about that, Benji. I was just thinking about my own interests. I tell you, that Carmelita..." he let off a low whistle. "She's the sort of woman that would get prey happily bathing in barbeque sauce if they thought it gave them even a slight chance at hooking up with her. She is absolutely gorgeous!"

That made the feline raise an eyebrow. From what he knew of the vulpine, he'd always been one who focused more on money than the ladies. To hear him wax on almost poetically about Officer Montoya was pretty surprising. "Really now?" Benji scratched his chin idly as he considered that. "If you're this head-over-heels for the woman, then I can't wait to meet her."

Nick schooled his features. "Oh, I'm not head-over-heels for her," he said in a calm tone. "I just happen to be able to appreciate a fine female body. And Benji? She has got one hell of a body!" He brought both his hands up him and made an hourglass-outline in the air before him. "Plus, she has something most of the beautiful ladies don't... a brain! Honest to goodness intelligence!" His grin went goofy again. If there was one thing the vulpine actually liked, it was a smart, independent, and SEXY woman. From his experiences dating, it was difficult to find a woman who had two, let alone all three aspects he looked for.

And the fact she was also a fox made it all that much better.

"All right!" The lupine policeman shouted as he entered the vicinity once more from the storage area. His arms were full of clothes, a jumbled pile with a pair of boots on top, held together by a pair of belts. "I got four shirts, four sets of pants, two belts, one set of boots, a set of gloves, her badge, and other assorted pieces." He placed them down on his side of the transaction port's counter-top before he began the long and arduous process of signing everything out on his end of things in both the computer and physical paperwork. "I tell you, you're lucky I got them this quickly! Everything is boxed and I have to check them personally!" The wolf let out an irritably sigh. "Someone had the bright idea to have the containers list what they hold but there's nothing on them to indicate sizes!"

Looking over the stack of garments for a moment, the vulpine nodded his head. "Yeah... that'll work," Nick appraised before turning his attention back to Clawhauser. "Could I get a little help here? I may be able to carry all of them, but..." he motioned that it was a wee bit too high for him to reach.

Realizing that there was a bit of a height problem involved, the feline nodded his head. "Oh, no problem, Nicky!" The cheetah smiled at his old friend before turning towards the port opening in the steel wire and ballistics glass wall. "Least I can do for you. Besides, you'd probably get flattened by the officers if you tried to walk out with this stuff."

Nick scoffed at that. "Oh come on now. Who would be dumb enough to rob a police station?"

"The Bug Burgla and Grimouse," The wolf muttered, much to the red fox's shock, mostly because there was someone stupid enough to try it. "To be fair, the pair was hopped up on so many drugs that they thought they were at a fast food joint."

The tiny predator blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. "...Well now, that must have been an entertaining evening," the canid conman finally replied before turning his attention towards Clawhauser. "All right. I'm going to head up and get to the van... you want to follow us or do you need an address?" Wilde smiled a bit. "I would hope you still know the way."

That inquiry caught the pudgy cheetah's attention. "Oh? What do you mean?" The friendly feline chirruped. "Is Officer Montoya staying somewhere I know?"

Offering the large spotted wildcat a genuine smile, all Nick could answer was, "Honey's place."

The police officer's eyes lit up. "Honey? She's staying with Honey?" At the nod of the tod's head, the feline let out a squeal of delight. "Oh, this is great! I haven't had a chance to go to Mrs. Badger's in FOREVER! I give her calls weekly but I haven't been able to step foot there..." he frowned. "Mostly because I can't fit into her bunker no more..." he admitted a bit, the shame he felt obvious.

"Well, don't worry about it," the vulpine assured his larger predator pal. "She'll be happy to know that you at least want to say hi to her." Nick smiled as he grabbed the belt-tied shoes while Clawhauser grabbed the rest of the clothes. "Shall we?"

Nodding his head, Clawhauser followed as the pair of mammals left the station's armory.

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*Ri~~iiiiing*!

*Ri~~iiiiing*!

*Ri~~iiiiing*!

The vixen's brown eyes snapped wide open, before shutting again. Carmelita groaned, realizing she was back in the world of the living. "Maldita sea todo..." the woman murmured tiredly in annoyance as her right arm reached out for her nightstand, fingers feeling about the top of her furniture for her cell phone once more. It took a few blind attempts but she soon found and slid her finger over the front as she pulled it to the side of her head. With the line open, the woman answered, "Hola..."

"Hey, Carm!" The familiar voice of Nicholas chirruped over the phone. "Do you mind coming out? I got your equipment from the ZPD for you."

The vixen let off another groan before extending her arm out, pulling the phone away so she could yawn. Smacking her lips, the Hispanic vulpine brought the phone back to the side of her head as she queried, "Nick? Zat you?" Was her fatigued response.

A chuckle sounded over the line. "That it is, sleepy-heard. Is this a bad time?"

"No... no, I'm good," the vixen replied. "Just lemme get my shoes on..." she murmured as she sat up in the bed, surprised and slightly pleased to find her body wasn't resisting her movements as vehemently as it had earlier that morning. Sliding her feet into slippers, she asked, "You need me to let you in?"

"Nah," was the male fox's reply. "I have a key, remember? We're just waiting for you out here in the living room."

"Good. See you in a moment," the blue-haired vixen said in response before switching her phone off. Placing both hands on the bed, the policewoman pushed herself off from the bed and stood up. She reached her arms out at either side, doing her best to stretch and work the kinks out of her body, pleased to find that while still sore it was more from stiffness than outright pain as it had been. Bringing her left hand to the front of her muzzle, the Latina vulpine tried to stifle another yawn before making her way to the entrance of her bedroom.

Opening the door, the female red fox made her way down the hall and into the living room. Seeing both men and a uniformed officer in the social area fussing over a whole bunch of different things, the woman did her best to try and wake up so she could attend to business. "Hola," she called out in greeting, giving a wave before needing to bring it to her mouth again to stifle a yawn. "Hey Nick, hey Finnick. And hello Officer. I'm Carmelita. Pleasure to meet you."

She blinked her chocolate eyes when there was no immediate response. Keeping her lids open, she looked out at the room, wondering why all three men–the two familiar vulpines and the policeman she realized was an overweight cheetah–were just gawking at her. "...What?"

"Well, uh..." Nick stammered in embarrassment, his face a few shades redder than usual. "This is awkward, Carm..." he murmured before deciding to break it to her as nonchalantly as possible. "Er... well, to get things started, this is Officer Benjamin Clawhauser. Benji, this fine lady in her blue underpants is the newest officer of Zootopia's police department for that Initiative thing."

It took a moment for Carmelita to register what her fellow red fox said. "Lady in her..." she began to repeat, only to trail off as she looked down. Yes, she was so out of it that she forgot to get her bathrobe on. "Jesús Cristo de mierda!" She cried out in utter terror before rushing back to the bedroom with her arms over her chest and tail between her legs, the adrenaline that suddenly shot through her system forcing her wide-awake.

Left alone to themselves once more, all Benjamin could mutter was, "Dubbya. Tee. Fudge." Shaking his head for a moment, he had to turn to his friends. "For the record, I am still a Gazelle fan-boy... but even I think she's immensely beautiful." After all, she was incredibly built and that voice! Oh that VOICE! Carmelita had that spicy Latin growl that kicked all the pleasure centers of his brain that the Columbian singer's normally tickled.

And then a realization came to him about that beauty that left him awe-struck. "Wait..." he murmured as confusion settled in the forefront of his mind. "She's a fox?"

"What? Didn't anyone tell you?" Nick asked, smiling wide in an almost goof fashion. He would normally have been more attentive of things like this but he was a tad distracted at the moment. The image of Carmelita in her undies was going to be... dancing vividly through his mind for a while. It was too bad she had to turn around to run away...

Almost.

He would have loved to have seen her bounce away.

"Well... YEAH!" Clawhauser chirruped excitedly. "I mean, we were told to expect—"

"Sorry!" The Latina beauty's voice called out from her bedroom before she stepped out, now adorned in the baby-blue bathrobe the male red fox had seen her in that morning. Coming back to the group, she apologized, "I mean it! I am terribly sorry! That is a horrible first impression to make, Officer..." she looked to the cheetah, feeling so damned humiliated. She'd been told his name and promptly forgot it in her embarrassment.

Smiling gently at the vixen's humility, the male feline brought a hand up and waved off the apology. "Oh, that's all right, Officer Montoya. Quite all right, really!" He smiled wide, making his chubby cheeks puff up with the motion of him grinning. "If anything, this is now my absolute favorite introduction to a fellow officer EVER!"

Bringing her right hand up to cover her face, Carmelita just groaned in despair. "Could... would you please be so kind as to not spread this story around? We both know how fast rumors fly."

Rolling his eyes, the desert fox snorted. "Not many would believe it." The smallest person in the room finally managed to quip, shaking his head in disgust. Why couldn't he be single right now? Not that he would trade Cherry for the world... but a chance to have macked the vixen would have been appreciated.

Nodding his head in agreement, the chubby cheetah added, "Finnick has a point. Not many would think I was that lucky..." It was true that he wasn't with anyone officially, but he HAD to keep himself available on the one-percent off-chance Gazelle asked him on a date! Taking a deep breath and exhaling, the male officer changed the subject. "Anyway, I'm Benjamin. Officer Benjamin Clawhauser... I normally work Dispatch for the ZPD but they let me leave the station to confirm your presence." His cheeks lifted up as he grinned again. "And I have to say: WOW!" He gasped out with an incredible amount of enthusiasm. "You have no idea the hub-bub that is surrounding you right now!"

Taking her eyes off from the pile of clothes she assumed was for her, Carmelita looked towards her fellow officer in surprise. "Que?" She chirruped curiously. "Whatever do you mean, Officer Clawhauser?" She frowned a bit and quickly added, "I take it this has to do with City Hall having a shit-hemorrhage that they couldn't find me?"

"Well... yeah!" The portly policeman answered. "What I mean is, we were supposed to pick you up and traffic happened because traffic's bad but we didn't mean to insult... you..." he trailed off as he stumbled over his words. Taking a deep breath, the cheetah began once more. "That is to say, when we got someone there, you had already left! No one heard from you and everyone was blowing their tops! This person blaming that person, this mammal chewing that mammal's head off, and what-not..." he chuckled a bit in relief. "Man though, you are going to knock their socks off when they finally get to meet you!"

Nick grimaced slightly. "Benji, don't mention biting people's heads off." There was a sudden thud and he sighed while turning to look at the smallest fox in the room. "The little guy freaks out at the thought of cops eating people."

Looking down at the fainted form of Finnick, the portly spotted feline winced. "OO~oooh... sorry about that..." he cooed in response before turning his attention back to the blue-tressed vixen. "Anyway... I brought your stuff!" He chirruped as he held paperwork out to the woman in his right hand and a pen with the other. "I'm going to have to ask you to sign all these forms. The station needs proof that you have received your stuff and both the armory and accounting want a paper-trail of the equipment."

Accepting all the printed papers, the vixen gazed over them for a moment, reading the details before she began writing her signatures on each piece. "No matter where I am in the world, paperwork and donuts seem to be the one constant that always follows."

A look of indignation managed to erupt across Clawhauser's face. "Hey now! There's nothing wrong with donuts. Donuts are sugary bliss!" The cheetah happily chirruped.

Nick nodded at that. "True enough. Homemade or store bought, donuts are always good." It was why he never even attempted to try and make money off of them. One couldn't have a successful business model if they literally ate the profits. At least having a pawpsicle now and then was only a two dollar loss when he did. Not like I do it every day either, he mentally added.

The female fox paused as she considered that. "I can't really disagree myself," Carmelita admitted before she continued to sign the paperwork once more. Not that she was in love with donuts, but it was a nice snack to get a quick energy boost thanks to all the sugar they were packed with. Sly, that lucky ring-tailed bastard... he could eat a whole dozen by himself and not gain a pound! Whenever she ate more than one at a time, those traitorous confectionary delights would go straight to her hips! Probably why he was always trying to get me to eat them, she thought with both annoyance and nostalgia as she signed her name again and again as she flipped through the stack of papers, writing off for each shirt, belt, shoe, glove, radio, and piece of armor. "I don't see anything in here for restraints or weapons, let alone a police cruiser..." she said pointedly. If they expected her to commute every day then she sure as hell needed a set of wheels!

...Or a helicopter.

Wincing considerably in response to the woman's inquiry, poor Benjamin looked as though he bit into a lemon. "Yeah... about that..." he murmured uncomfortably. Slowly, he turned his head to the male red fox in the room, his friend from high school and hopefully buddy once more. "Hey Nick, can I be blunt? I truly mean no offense..." he said, letting the vulpine know that the reason was rather sensitive.

Pausing in resuscitating the downed fennec, Wilde merely shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry. None taken," the male vulpine replied as he continued to press down on the desert fox's chest, trying to use timed compressions to wake him up–like hell he was doing CPR and inadvertently kissing the little guy. The last time he did, Finnick threatened to bite his face off! "I'm used to it."

Sighing in relief, the feline nodded his head before turning his attention back to the female red fox. "Well, Officer Montoya... a mammal like Nick isn't considered too trustworthy. I mean, yeah he's a swell guy and I know him personally but..." he winced once more, feeling like such a heel at what he was about to say. "He's a fox... and..." he trailed off guiltily for a moment. Taking another deep breath, he blurted out, "They weren't about to risk any equipment that could be considered dangerous in the wrong paws and his claim that he was your assistant wasn't considered credible enough. So I was sent along to confirm everything."

At her fellow officer's nervous but honest explanation, Carmelita sighed. She bit her lip for a moment as she considered things. Finally, she looked up to meet the taller predator's gaze and asked point blank, "This won't be a problem for me when I get there, will it?"

The chubby cheetah sighed and brought his hands together, squeezing his fingers tight. "A little bit. I'll admit, prejudice runs deep around here but I'm sure that you can overcome them... or at least get people to see past it... maybe?" He gave her what he felt was a reassuring grin but it was more nervous than anything else. "Well, you are going to be the face of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. I think if they want to make this work, City Hall will back you up all the way. They would be shooting themselves in the foot if they didn't."

The vixen nodded her head in understanding, making her mane of navy blue tresses bounce with the motion. "Hey, Benjamin? Do you mind if I take a moment to try some of this stuff on, to make sure it fits?" She asked as she began to pick up some of the items he had delivered. "That way, if they don't I can have you come back with stuff that will. Is that okay?" She hated to take up a fellow police officer's valuable time but she was getting a sinking feeling it would be rather difficult for a fox like her to have Animal Resources get anything done in a timely manner.

"Oh, sure! No problem!" Clawhauser chirruped merrily, feeling more confident that he could at least offer her this much in assistance. "Go right ahead!" He proclaimed as he grasped the Kevlar vest from the pile of articles and held it out to her. "Let's see how you look!"

Taking the vest in her hands, the Latina beauty began to gather up numerous pieces of the uniform until she had enough for a full set. "Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me," she said and quickly made her way back to her bedroom to try the clothes on.

Watching the female red fox head off for a bit, the portly cheetah inhaled deeply before heavily exhaling. Shaking his head to clear it of dirty thoughts, he turned towards where the male vulpine was kneeling by the fennec who was slowly coming to. "So tell me, Nick... are you and her... um..." he blushed and made a circle by pressing the tips of his left thumb and index finger together before sliding his right index finger back and forth through it in a suggestive manner.

Chuckling, the crimson-pelted canid shook his head. "I could only wish."

And that brought the sandy-furred vulpine back to full consciousness. "Wait a minute!" He snapped as he turned his attention up to his partner-in-law-bending. "What do you mean she's not your girlfriend!?" The desert fox practically shouted, getting a weird look from Nick and Benji.

Although in Wild's case, it was more of a smirk. "You mean to tell me you still believed that?"

"You two never denied anything!" Finnick practically barked out.

The pawpsicle hustler couldn't help but chuckle at the fit his little pal was throwing over this. "Oh this is rich..." he shook his head good-naturedly before replying, "Nah! We were just teasing you at the time..." a mischievous gleam came to his eyes. "But you do know what this means, my dear Finnick?"

Looking up at the taller vulpine, the fennec queried, "What, Wilde?" He narrowed his eyes and added, "And don't call me dear!"

"You got hustled, big guy..." the smile on the male red fox's face became absolutely devious. "You got hustled by a police officer..."

The desert fox twitched. "She... you mean she..." he trailed off, unable to say it.

"She hustled you," Nick repeated teasingly. "And boy, she hustled you GOOD!" He barked out with laughter, despite how his tiny partner began to fume in agitation.

Benji covered his mouth, trying not to laugh and hurt his tiny pal's feelings. This was too rich, someone out-foxing a fox!? That was crazy! Okay, granted, it was another fox but it was rare to see them get one in over each other.

Twitching most irritably as his impressive ears flattened back, all Finnick could do was threaten his taller partner. "I swear to God, Nick... the boot will be on the other foot one day. And when it is I am SO going to laugh my tail off at your misfortune."

The taller of the two vulpines snorted. "Yeah, right! Like THAT is ever going to happen," he replied with a teasing smirk. The male red fox then brought his hands up to his chest, taking a moment to straighten out his tie. "Trust me, litt—big buddy," he quickly corrected as to not set off the fennec beyond control. "No mammal is getting one over on Slick Nick!"

"What's this about someone getting something over on you?" Came the familiar voice of the vixen. All three men looked up... and their jaws dropped so far they practically hit the floor.

Starting from the bottom and going it, the boots she wore were NOT what the woman had signed off the paperwork for. Oh no, instead of the black soft Kevlar with open toes for better traction, these were steel-toed brown leather, laced up her shins; the material going high enough that it fed to the metal knee-guards of the ZPD uniform. There was no doubt the lower set of steel caps that adorned the woman's feet had probably been used judiciously on several perpetrators in the past, as when inspected up close, one could make out several deformities in their shape, as if they had impacted something with incredible force.

Above that, was a standard-issue police uniform of pants, utility belt, and shirt—the only things she wore that were from the ZPD's standard outfit.

Her bracer-style gloves, while ZPD-issued were a special order set. They had several bars of metal along the wrist, as when an officer of the law as small as a fox was in an altercation with a much larger mammal, steel was but a logical defense option for dealing with sharp teeth and a jaw's considerable bite strength.

Finally, there was her bullet-proof vest—noted for its defective measurements by the armory and had been waiting for return to the production facility, looked as though it had been specially made for her admittedly... unique frame. It was sturdy protection and comfortable enough to be worn in her daily life on the force, without appearing bulky. It was topped off with the golden and blue-accented badge of the ZPD in place over her left breast thanks to a specially molded slot in the surface of the armor.

Overall, Officer Carmelita Montoya Fox looked the part to play one of Zootopia's civil servants. Ready to protect and serve the good of the public trust...

She just wished someone would have told her that immediately instead of keeping her in the dark. "Well?" The Hispanic vulpine chirruped as everyone just stared at her in complete silence once more. "How do I look?"

The rather portly cheetah recovered first and clapped his hands together, smiling as wide as he could while practically bouncing up to his feet to praise her. "You look SO good! Why, you fill that out better than any officer I've seen to date! And believe me, I've seen a lot of them." He leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial tone of voice. "Between you and me, though, the Police Chief has all of us beat when it comes to wearing the Kevlar vests."

His ears twitching for a moment as he strained to hear what his friend was whispering to the lovely Latina, Nick couldn't help but let off a snort in response. "Yeah, but what can you expect from a slab of beef that solid?" He whispered under his breath before speaking aloud, "Carmelita you look astounding! Like a real, honest-to-goodness member of the police force."

Placing her hands on her hips, the vixen frowned as she looked towards her fellow red fox. "Oh?" She chirruped, a note of curiosity to her voice. "And what is that supposed to mean, Mr. Wilde?"

Smirking deviously, the pawpsicle hustler couldn't help but tell her, "While this may be crass, I'll put it bluntly: mammals are going to shit themselves when they see a fox in uniform." Particularly one as battle-ready as the vixen's was.

Returning the smile, Carmelita gave a firm nod of her head. "That's the idea, Nick. That's the idea..."

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Author's Notes: Hello and back again from the two week hiatus. Hope you all missed this series while I was busy busting my back with landscaping and carpentry; even I need to make money. Still, I did my best to make this update a lengthy chapter again.

While I was gone I had received some questions from Cerberusx in the reviews section... and honestly they're good ones, so I'll leave the answers under this chapter's notes.

The year the story takes place is 2014, chosen because that was the date halfway into Zootopia's production cycle, when the production staff started to come out of a darker story and into a much more light-hearted one. The collars officially came off in 1988

All ages are still canon to the characters.

Nick is 32, meaning he would have been born in 1982 in this and six-years-old when the shock collars came off.

Finnick is 33 so he would have been born in 1981... and lived another year in a collar. Enough to temper him and make him an ornery little cuss with a chip on his shoulder.

Honey is 45, meaning she was born in 1968. Yes, she's only thirteen years Nick's senior. She and her husband met the Fox family when she and Harold were getting married; she was a young bride at eighteen when Nick was only a wee five-year-old. I will get into the story later but I'll give an idea of what went wrong in her life. The shock collars didn't come off soon enough.

Carmelita is the youngest of the set at 29 and would have been born in 1985. The Sly Cooper games take place over the course of eight years and Carmelita is listed as 21 in the first game. Do note that besides the fourth game which is treated possibly as days or weeks, the first three give the impression of taking MONTHS if not a full year in their timeline and the sequels even mention the passing of years in between each game. Anyway, here is a breakdown of how I would line up the Sly series using 2014 as the "Today" date.

Sly Cooper and the Thievius Raccoonus : 2006 – 2007

Two year lull of lesser crimes : 2007 – 2009

Sly 2: Band of Thieves : 2009 – 2010

Sly 3: Honor Among Thieves : 2010 – 2011

Three years "amnesia" and Sargent Cooper : 2011 – 2014

Sly 4: Thieves in Time : 2014

And for those curious, Sly would be 26, meaning he would have been born in 1988. He was listed as 18 in the first game and so would be 26-years-old by the time "Thieves in Time" and this story would've rolled round.

Fun fact: to get them to the ages of 18 and 21, Sucker Punch had officially listed Carmelita and Sly as being born in 1981 and 1984 respectively. I just had to move their birthdates back to reflect the modern day setting of the story because even though dates are given, the passage of time in Sly Cooper doesn't reflect actual dates.

As for Finnick's girlfriend Cherry... well, you'll see. I need to keep some surprises.

And a final note: if any of my readers leaves me questions in the reviews, I will be glad to tackle them in the Author's Notes.