I know you don't like me (for combat engineer)

.

AN: Before we start here, I'd just like to ask my readers a few questions as to which direction I'll be taking this one-shot collection on in the near-future. You see, I'm running a bit short on the one-shots I write once a month for people on a certain website I am not able to mention due to terms and conditions… (Fingers crossed there's enough plausible deniability there, wink wink).

Anyhow, to keep a balanced upload level here, to complement the off weeks on my main series, I have a few options.

I have a large number of unfinished/ semi-finished oneshots saved on my computer. Think of them as 'intro's' to AU's. And while there's one that's probably best to properly finish and save until a certain someone's B-day, there are two that could be released fairly promptly. In addition, I also wrote a 10,000 word Zistopia story during NamoWriMo that I'm proof-sharing with a different reading group and will share once that's done, though that one will probably end up being published by itself. So there's a mix there which could make its way out onto here, but will probably run out fairly quickly.

The other option, and the one I want the most feedback on, is based on a concept/idea I had early this year while on lockdown. Basically, for a long time my fav Zootopia saga, and the one (in the one in a billion chance Disney decided to adapt a fanfic into a true Zootopia sequel) I most wanted to see given the chance of TV show was Guardian Blue. No controversy there, it's very likely the fandoms favourite and deservingly so (even if personally I feel that in one or two areas it falls and can be improved).

And then in early 2020 I read MercMarten's Fire Triangle, and it instantly became my favourite. Is it flawless? No, just like GB I could point out a few areas where I think it falls short or doesn't quite work. However, if I got to make the choice outlined above, no hesitation it's FT for me… Except for the fact that I know the fandom adores GB, with FT being a far less read saga. So, if given the choice I feel I'd have to choose GB for the fandom. After all, you can't have both, right...?

And so, that infamous little question mark wormed its way into my crossover loving mind. And, thinking about it, not only could I see a basic and strong way of merging them, but I could see how the two sagas complemented each other. Where one was strong, one was weak, and vice versa. And in certain areas, the merging allowed me to build up certain things in both to be far stronger than they were in either before (e.g. with bringing Skye from GB and my stuff into a small yet majorly tweaked version of Nick's backstory from FT, giving her a far deeper backstory, character basis and arc moving forward than in GB and removing probably the biggest 'say that again?' moment from FT…)

Anyway, it got to the point where I just had to write this all down and work it all out. And I did. So, GB and FT in one fic, along with some stuff you'll recognise from my own works, and some new stuff I made up.

But wait, to quote the Internet Historian (who's a koala in the Zoot universe, subject not up to debate), there's more! I've read through a chunk of Merc's pre-zoot stories up on furaffinity, and a few were ideal for pulling across and integrating, giving some otherwise temporarily fridged characters fun stuff to do. Fun and easy.

And then for the challenge, I decided to see if I could pull in a lot of Upplet's stuff in as well. Not all of When Instinct Falls, no way you could make all of that work with everything else… But the best bits, the Fangpyre/ nocturnal mob bits. Lucy, Vlad, and then the stuff going on in When Night Falls as well (which feels like it'd go perfectly with what's going on in Fire Triangle). This one involved some more re-jigging, some more adjustment, but I got it in.

The long and the short of this?

I have a massive outline for a crossover saga, broken into a bunch of seasons, on my computer. Now, I'm not going to go and write this all out as a proper fic as most of what's on it already exists in other fics. But, presuming that the authors are happy with it, I could post the outlines up on here if you'd be interested. Heck, if some of the 'new' bits really interest you, I would be happy to follow requests and write in stuff that doesn't exist anywhere else (ranging from small bits of dialogue (some I've already done) to entire fast paced action or chase scenes).

Obviously, all of this would be ludicrously spoilerific for stories that you haven't read and, while most is copied from stuff already released, there is an undeniable element of my own speculation seeping in as to what some of the bad guys (say in FT) ultimate aims are.

So, this at most will be very bare bones storytelling… It'd be more like the outlines that certain youtubers such as NandovsMovies and The Closerlook do for story rewrites. However, it might be a fun point of discussion, and a jumping off point for lots of small and interesting oneshots moving on.

As said, majorly spoilerific towards these fics AND I'd want to get an okay from the authors before putting this out (should all be okay, but not a 100% certainty). Anyhow, I'd be interested in your thoughts and all.

And now, on with today's oneshot.

.

.

Stepping out of the taxi, backpack over one shoulder and straining bin bag full of his worldly possessions in the other, the teenage fox gave a critical gaze at the part of the city around him. "Fancy," he said, all too uneagerly. "Very fancy."

"Uh-hu," came a sickly happy chirp from his side, the female otter clearly not registering the fine art that was his sarcasm. "This is a whole new fresh start for you, Nick. And you can already see some of the bright sides, can't you? Just… Smell that clean air. Listen to the bird song. Look at all this space and peace and quiet."

"Sense the innumerable Karens staring out from behind their curtains, panicking that a fox has moved in to their pasteurised little piece of heaven on earth."

"Nicholas," the otter warned, causing the fox to sigh. "You know that's not very nice."

"Yeees case worker," he sighed.

He knew that he shouldn't. Or rather, he knew that his mother would have told him that he shouldn't. The thought made him sad, which was stupid in a way. Their relationship hadn't been that good anyhow by the end, especially after the few times he'd been brought home for 'loitering' and 'suspicious behaviour' late at night. He'd bitterly argued that those weren't crimes at all, he wasn't hurting anyone, it was just made-up words so that the cops could round up undesirable mammals like him who were minding their own business.

She'd asked him what exactly he had been doing, pressed it further, and things hadn't ended well.

Why couldn't she have seen he was his own fox, that he had to start making his way in this crapsack world, that the game was rigged and he wasn't some idiot who was going to face a loaded hand with good old-fashioned honesty and hard work like a rube as she told him to.

So compared to all that, why should he bother not saying some hard truths or letting a little sass in.

After all, she wasn't even around anymore to get upset about it.

So why feel guilty about it at all?

But, for some reason, he did.

Far more than when she'd been alive.

Again, stupid in a way.

All of this was.

Getting shuttled for the last year between various group homes, batted this way and that across the city, barely getting any time to settle in before getting pulled along. Scratch any of his 'illegitimate' work, he barely had the time for the honest school stuff too.

And now here he was again, with what was supposed to be a 'more permanent' one on one arrangement. 'It's built with a pathway to adopt in mind' the case worker had tried to pitch him. Even she had to have figured out just how hollow that sounded, and was just putting on this hopeful and happy act as part of the job.

Part of him had really wanted to say that, to rub it in.

But no, old voice of mama Wilde (Deceased) had been there, telling him not to. And, despite his certainty that neither living member present here really wanted to or liked pulling this happy little mask over everything, he'd followed her lead and let it stay.

And maybe, and this was a really dumb thought, things wouldn't be that intolerable here after all. Yes, the houses and lawns were manicured and landscaped into an artificial perfect tweeness, and there was probably nothing interesting for miles around, but if whoever lived here was decent enough to keep their tail out of his business, then maybe he could let it be.

And with that, before his case worker could even knock on the door, it opened. And out stepped a middled aged female bunny doe. "Hi Nick!"

...

"Nope. Can't keep this up anymore," he announced, throwing his paws into the air. "World of suck, here I come, and you two both know it."

.

.

.

And so, a few hours later, he found himself sitting on the couch, watching the TV. To be honest, he'd expected far worse. His case worker had been aghast, apologising profusely to the bunny (Miss Hopps), saying he didn't mean it, telling him to say sorry. He'd shrugged back saying he was sorry, he could only lie so much, and that he was doing her a favour as she didn't have to do it to herself anymore.

And oh, she'd gone on and on about him self sabotaging, and him burning bridges before he'd even met them. And he'd pointed out the simple fact that he was being a realist.

In the end, sent in, waiting, she and that bunny had sorted stuff out together, letting him wait in here.

Oddly enough, now that he thought about it, that bunny hadn't really said anything at all.

She wasn't offended.

Wasn't angry.

Had she expected this all?

Whatever it was, the sound of the front door closing and two feet approaching signalled to him that he was probably about to find out very soon. He looked over to the approaching bunny, a probably fake smile on her face, and two cups in her paws.

She sat down across from him, sitting down his own drink on a mat on the glass table. Hot coco, cream and flake and sprinkles on the top, and…

He shook his head. "I'm not a kit," he said. I don't take bribes left unsaid.

She looked at him for a few seconds, glancing down, thinking. "I know you're not. But I thought you might like it anyway."

"Well if I wanted some," he said, warily reaching forward and picking it up. "I can make it myself."

"You don't like other people doing stuff for you?" she asked.

His eyes narrowed. "I can handle myself," he said, voice cutting through. Were he a few years older, he could be out there supporting himself. He knew mammals who knew mammals, he could arrange to get a place to sleep. He could handle himself, not that the state agreed.

"I'm sure you can," she said. "And if that's what you want, we can arrange it."

And then Nick blinked. He looked at her, his head tilting sideways a little from the confusion. "Say what?"

"I can make it so your bedroom has your own fridge, cooking stuff, I'd be happy to pay you after school for doing chores and yardwork and such. You can have your own room, cook your own food, do your own laundry. We could be housemates rather than parent and child."

"Foster parent," he made sure to clarify.

"Yes… Yes that is accurate," she nodded, ears going down. "Nicholas…"

"-Nick," he butted in, not even thinking about it.

She gave an almost embarrassed shrug. "Sorry," she whispered. "I can guess that you don't really want this. I've seen plenty of mammals your age with loving parents who want to go it alone, who don't think they need love and attention from above, who think they have all they need to go fly the nest."

"And here comes the part where you talk about how they flop to the ground and get eaten by ants, right?"

…

"Projection."

"Huh?"

"Projection," she said, looking up at him. "These discussions are painful for you. You've been through so much, no control in your life. You really don't like it, you think you need to be alone and by yourself. Because what have all these adults done for you? Nothing but pain and failure and micromanaging your life while not getting you? You see right through it, don't you? All those things they say to try and make you see sense. You know the truth. They're just being patronising, you hate it, you hate all of it. And so when you see it coming, you defend yourself. You lash out. You're not even going to let them get close, right?"

Nick looked on, blinking, before putting his hot chocolate down and crossing his paws. "Oh, I get it. You're a shrink, right?"

She smiled. "It seems I get it too. Bit too close to comfort, right? So out the projection comes."

Nick felt a snarl coming over his muzzle, though he quickly buried it down. She was probably expecting that too.

"Nick," she said. "I know you have a lot of angry feelings, or confused or whatever…"

"But?" he cut in, paws folding out as he wore an expression of mock concern.

"No buts," she said, breathing out. "Come on, let's get them out."

"…Huh?"

"I said get them out," she repeated, breathing in and out, almost readying herself. "Right now, Nick, I give you permission to get everything off your chest. Every dumb or angry or rude or mean thing you think. Tell me. Get it out. Call me whatever rude things you want, no consequences…"

"Yeah, right," he snarked, levelling her eyes at her.

Their staring contest lasted a few seconds, before she spoke again. "Do you want me to start?"

"What? By calling me a sneaky fox. A sly, nasty mammal? A rebellious teen? Troublemaker? Shifty? Untrustworthy? It's not going to do anything, I've heard them all before," he said, leaning forward, jabbing a finger down in front of him. "And honestly, at least I can expect it from a dumb speciesist bunny like you…"

She was silent, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, what even am I to you, huh? Some… do it up project? Making me 'one of the good ones'. Bragging rights? Or is this all just a false screen, luring me in before pouncing on me. I've had that before, learning that the nice smiling group home was full of bigger mammals who'd blame me for everything, locking me in my room and all because one of them lost some cash so I must have stolen it? If you think you can hold me, forget it. I got out of there pretty quick, heck I can get out of anywhere pretty quick, almost as quick as they realise that they don't want a teen fox stinking up the place and return him like a broken purchase. Home after home after home, back, back, back. You and my caseworker, all acting happy and innocent, as if you don't know that's what's gonna happen. What was always gonna happen. I mean, why do you even bother lying, or doing all this, when you know exactly how it's going to end up. Do you know what the definition of insanity is? Doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different result. Well, at least I know that, at least I'm the one recognising it. Heck, I'm the only sane one here, and I bet you and the rest know it. So go on, let's cut this pretty charade off and call it a day, for everyone's sake."

…

"That felt good, didn't it?" she asked, softly.

And Nick realised he was panting raggedy breaths, his arms trembling, his body still high on… something…

"But can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he huffed. "What?"

"On all these other occasions, have you ever really given it your all? Or have you thought the same thing, thought there was no hope from the start?"

"Well what other hope is there."

"That maybe, even though I can't replace your mother, I can be there for you. To help you. To support you. When you're upset or confused or scared, to be the one you can turn to. The one who's there so that you're never alone."

And something twinged in him, something deep down. It was easy to bury, if not to fully ignore. "Pardon me for asking, but why? Why me? Why do this?"

She looked away. "You're not the only mammal I've seen like this Nick. Not by a long shot. Young, angry, making mistakes. I used to think they were all thugs, but over the years of my work I began to realise that they were really just alone, scared, mammals, trying to find their place in the world and getting terribly lost."

"What do you even do?"

And with that she brought out something that looked liked a wallet and opened it up.

It was a badge.

A police Badge.

For one Judy Hopps.

"Crap…"

"Another thing to work on then," she almost chuckled, Nick's ears folding back as he realised he'd said that part out loud.

"I'd lock up these mammals who'd made mistakes, and make those they'd hurt feel better, but over time, it began feeling hollow. It wasn't helping them, and do you know what I thought? Why not try and help them earlier on in their life? Help them find the right path. Because… Well, I know you know the definition of insanity. Right?"

"Right," he said.

And with that, she nodded, walking over, holding his paws. "Nick, I wanted to try, to help mammals like you. And if it meant just starting with one, then so be it. That one was you, and I'm not going to go on the whole speel about you being a lucky one, because I know you're not. I'm sorry for your mother, I'm sorry you were in the position you were in before. And…" She closed her eyes, breathed in and out. "I'm sorry if I fail you. Nick…"

"Yes…"

"I promise, I'll try and go at your pace. Treat you like the near adult you are. I'll try and make sure that when we do things, even things you feel are pointless, we'll do them together. No going off cleaning your room or that, we'll clean the house together. We'll do the chores together, work together, I'll help find you your own job, you name it." She sniffed a bit. "And if it doesn't work and you want to try someone else, just say. And if you get to eighteen and you fly the nest and never want to come back, as long as you're able to fly, that's okay." Nick could see tears coming from her eyes now, and a pang of… A pang of lot of things were hitting him now, and he wasn't sure what to say. No snarky comments, no nothing.

"But please. Try. Try and give it a shot. Will you do that, Nick?"

And his mothers voice, softly, carefully, spoke in his head. "Please my little boy. She's trying hard for you, give her a chance." And for once, it wasn't a guilty pull that made him speak, but a warm arm around the shoulder.

"Okay…" he said, almost a whisper.

And she smiled. A huge, wide, happy smile. Finger up to dry her tears, she nodded. "Thanks Nick… I've got some dinner to sort out, mind helping me peel the vegetables in a bit? I can teach you how to do the recipe."

"…Sure… I guess," he said, not really sure, but just going with it.

"That's the spirit," she said warmly, turning around.

Nick had a hundred and one feelings in his stomach.

This place really was different.

And Judy had so many feelings too, but she was hopeful.

So very, very hopeful.

"Uh, Judy?"

She turned, facing the fox she'd brought into her life, hoping her years of encounters and experience would help her get through to him. He stood there, cup held in paw. "Yes Nick?"

"This stuff's… it's really good. Thanks."

And he smiled. A small, but beautiful smile, and she smiled back.

Maybe, just maybe, they'd make it work out.