I'll meet you at midnight
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(AN: Just another random AU idea I had.)
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Elegance was something that didn't just need to be taught.
It was something that needed to be drilled.
Enforced.
Hardwired into a mammal's mind and body, so that even when at rest, even when their minds are tired and their bodies want to slump.
Even when they think that they can get away, with that clump of mud underneath their claw tip, or the stain of oil in those deep strands of their…
"TAIL!"
The brisk swish of the cane up was a textbook case study in elegance, swiping up in one strong fluid motion, stinging against the sandy furred underside of its targets tail before pulling back, rigid straight, and stomping on the group.
All while its target acted without a shred of the same decorum. Her tail jerked up and then half curled, half spiked, half shot out at the impact. Her whole body leapt up, flinching in mid-air before coming down on trembling feet. And her head jerked around, a scare and embarrassed blush turning into a bitter angry death glare, directed straight at the mammal looming over her.
"And that reaction there," the grey furred deer spoke, marching around to stare the vixen head on, "was not elegance."
"You hit me."
"Oui," she said, shrugging as she seemed to ponder it, only to loom down, staring the sandy furred vixen in the eyes. "And you, Mademoiselle," she spoke, her gloved hoof sweeping out to ever so gracefully pinch her nose, pulling her muzzle up. "Thought you could walk into this induction with motor oil all up in your tail."
Letting go, the fox pulled back, ears peeled bashfully onto the back of her head, before they flicked up, her expression boiling over. "I washed there two times!"
"Well," the deer waved off. "It wasn't enough! If you dare think that you can worm out any excuse to not be up to the standard Hotel Ramuronne expects, then I suggest you turn and walk right out of his, tail between your legs at the shame of wasting all our time. Be spotless."
The fox grumbled, looking down, only to get a swift muzzle-up from her instructor. "Head up! Body straight! Arms by your side! Too stiff! Too relaxed! Too…" And with that she grumbled, turning away, and marching straight towards the bunny standing next to the fox. "You are better."
"Thank you," she said, nodding.
"Paws out, feet wide, if that daughter of a mechanic thought she could get away with brining oiled fur into the halls of our establishment, then what would the daughter of a carrot farmer think she could get away with, Mademoiselle Hopps?"
"Nothing, Madame."
The deer tilted her head, smiling slightly, the sticky black lipstick on her lips keeping them together for a second before cracking apart. Around the bunny she strolled, eyes focussed on her, though the many other inductees in the room knew that they could not let their guard down. Their time would come, eventually or again.
"Let us inspect…" she said, leaning down and making a deft motion to pinch her tail up and look beneath it.
A shriek filled the room, followed by an excellent chance for the deer to inspect the two soles of the bunny's feet.
She did not have enough time to fully take them in before they took her out.
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"I suppose I can thank you for taking the heat off the rest of us," Skye said, clipping on her helmet and rolling out the pair's moped.
"Shut up," was all Judy could say, as she jumped on the back, letting her companion rev the high-pitched engine before taking them off into the chaos of the roads. Small cars, trucks, numerous busses and innumerable other scooters vied for the limited space, flowing through the streets between the tall buildings, their stone and plaster facades in various states of repair or disrepair.
It was too much for the farm bunny to handle if it were her navigating, but as her chauffeur drove them through the back streets, through the narrow crooks between the blocks, past the overflowing bins and spilled out back rooms of bistros and cafes, she could at least hold on and know that her driver had grown up navigating this chaos.
Better a mechanics daughter than a carrot farmer's it seemed, as they turned a sharp right and merged once more into a thick stream of vehicles, horns blaring and bumpers almost bashing. Another left, more imposing the block on the opposing stream of traffic than waiting for a gap, and along the cobbles up and in they went, like they were descending into a great burrow built up around them.
Weaving through the narrow streets, blaring out the horn to shoo stragglers out of the roadway, Skye turned right and pulled them up next to a small wooden gate, the paint peeling and boards underneath half rotting. Judy got out, slammed a key into the lock, and held it open, letting Skye push the chipped and battered moped into its place inside.
And with that, they slotted through the narrow door to the right, past the armadillo in the small front room, eyes permanently glued to the gaudy all-day auction channel on the tiny fizzing box. Past the piles of unclaimed mail, from residents long since vacant of the premise or still inside. And up the tight steps, coiling themselves up and up and up over themselves, narrow bending corridors going off at ever so slightly different angles at each floor. Up and up, past each small, battered and not quite properly fitting window, looking out into the pit like courtyard that cut into the side of the building. And finally, six stories up, along their own corridor, past various doors before opening their own.
A kitchen, living room and a bed jumbled close together, a sole window overlooking the dark street outside. A small walled off area to the side, the toilet facilities within. A staircase so steep it was practically a ladder, up to tiny attic room above. A basket resting inside for the late sleeping swift fox, who half the time laid herself on the sofa and grumbled at her farm girl roommate getting up too early in the morning.
This time though it was the bunnies turn to grumble, sifting through piles of notes and textbooks, pens drained of their ink from constant writing and an ailing third typewriter laden with the mortal task of trying to keep up with the type breaking flow of writing needed for her university course.
"Rutabega," the bunny swore, as the vixen moved to the window, lighting a cigarette and drawing deep in before blowing out into the wind.
"That's a bunny profanity in this case? Or not... I can never tell."
Judy glared at her. "I needed that job."
"I'll sub you."
"You can barely afford anything yourself."
"I have my ways."
"You're not going out onto that roof again to fix it on the cheap."
"I thought you didn't care about this condemned building standing," she snarked, looking back.
"I've never really cared about bits of stone falling down from a terrible height," the bunny said, looking back and envying the vixen. "You can stop now."
"Stop what?" she asked, looking out and taking in another deep, long drag.
Judy looked up and down at her, her back straight, her ears up but a bit back, her tail doing a mix of things but doing them right. With purpose. "That elegance nonsense."
"Am I doing that?" she asked, looking over. It all collapsed, for a second.
"She tamed you."
"I have oil in my tail, don't you know?"
"And I kicked her in the snout and now can't pay my way."
"Being a bit of serving tail at a top brass tooth-lick was never your style, Judy."
"Ah, but it was my meal ticket."
"And as I say, I can sub you."
"And I'm not a charity case."
Skye smiled. "So what, you're going to move out and let me get another roomie. I can't have that, can I?" She walked over… Annoyingly close to a strut for Judy's liking. That hadn't been there before. Skye had only come in the first place to be 'moral support', but such was life.
"Why not."
"You're the least annoying mammal I've yet found," she said, fussing her head and smiling as she walked past, jumped back onto the sofa, and grabbed a magazine to read.
"That's really good to know."
"Thank you."
"That was sarcasm."
Skye paused and shrugged. "I'll pretend it wasn't."
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Dressing up and smartening out in a public convivence, Judy walked across the stone bridge crossing the great river, the orange lights of the evening glowing in the ripples as tourist boats and barges sailed beneath, cutting through the arches. There was even a small jetty, where some of the jet set stepped off and climbed up, through the small iron gates in the walled garden where they partied beneath the hanging lanterns. Judy looked closely to see if she could see Skye there, working them up, giving them the agenda for their night.
Fortunately that wasn't the case, the vixen instead catching a smoke break with a few other of the girls out on the courtyard, much to the benefit of their ever required glamour. A break wasn't a break if you were paid eye candy. Judy could see a gaggle of black suited mammals giving them a glance from behind the fences.
The bunny wondered what her reception might be, walking into the crowd after her exceptionally unstylish display at the training session. Thankfully, it was better than she could have ever expected, whoops and cheers coming up.
The bunny even made a solid day's wage, there and then, from those willing to slip away a little donation for doing what they had all wished to do.
But a day's wage wasn't the same as solid work every weekend. And it wasn't enough to make up for the loss of that opportunity.
"Found anything?" the bunny asked, looking up hopefully.
"It seems I have more talents than I realised," the wheat-furred vixen said, leaning down and handing over a card. "I never thought I could hustle, but here you go."
Judy took it and smile, only to frown. "Babysitting."
"Don't call him a baby," she said, "his parents want to keep him out of trouble while still schmoozing around. And I think calling him a baby won't help. It's not like he wanted to be here in the first place."
"Doesn't like adult parties then," Judy said, walking off.
"Don't think he likes mammals in general," Skye said, taking one last deep inhale before chucking her stubby end over her shoulder and into the water below. "He and I must be kindred spirits."
Judy stepped forward with her, only to give a quick tap on he fox's shoulder. "I'm a mammal you know."
Skye looked down and shrugged. "You're a special exception."
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Kit-sitting was surprisingly easy. Passing herself off as a member of the host staff, Judy had managed to get access to a back room, in particular one with a television. It may have been a crackling box a fraction of the size of what a rich kid like him was used to, with bare four or five channels as opposed to the fourty or so he bragged about getting with his new cable install, but at the end of the day a corny dumb movie was a corny dumb movie, and it kept a ten-year-old boy entertained until he was tired enough to fall asleep, the hours of the evening pushing on and on as the day slowly died.
A call from the front as the city bells rang eleven told her it was time to hand him over and, after shaking him awake, she handed him back, earning a highly generous tip for it. Enough to keep her pride over her head for the next few weeks, at least.
Patting it down, she turned to leave, only to pause as she saw him, staring at her.
There wasn't anything quite out of the ordinary for him in most cases, but here… The red fox, whoever he was, lurked in his dark corner of the courtyard, his green eyes glowing too bright. Both with the reflections of the party and city lights, and their own verdant aura. They reminded her of the moon.
Stupidly.
But undeniably.
While the rest of him coiled behind them, lurking in the darkness, waiting and watching, his tail coming up and down like an amused thought.
He didn't move a muscle or speak a word, but he called her over, somehow.
"You're elegant, you know," he said, as she froze in front of her.
"According to some. Not according to others."
A grin slowly grew, thirsty, toothy. "You know when to tell them no."
Judy blinked, head tilting, her nose twitching hard as she crossed her paws. "Who are you?"
"A mammal who knows things, Judy Hopps, criminology student, second year."
The bunny stepped back, her fists coiling.
His grin grew. "Your elegance fades somewhat, but I like that."
"If you know what I did to that deer, you might not like what comes next."
"I assure you," he said, relaxing back. "For that, at least, there is a reasonable explanation. You'll realise that tomorrow."
Judy leant forward. "You sure about that."
"I know it."
"Ha, ha," she said, waving him off.
At which point he stood up. "Right now I'm going to make you an offer," he said, his retreated mirth swept away with a newfound… seriousness. "You're going to refuse it, and you're going to regret it in just under one hour. I'll see you in just over one."
Judy turned on her heel. "Shooo, Fox."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper slip. "You'll plan to walk home tonight. Take the metro instead."
"Ha," she snorted, waving him off. "In fact, I plan to get a ride home tonight…"
"Take it," he said, "pushing it forward."
She just carried on walking off, not seeing him lean back, a resigned look on his face. "In that case, third time will be the charm. I'll meet you at midnight. Under the moonlight."
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"You should do it more often," Skye said, as the bunny left early through a side door.
"Maybe we could do it together. Cubsitters, you and I."
"My mother roped me into enough for me to know that wouldn't be a good idea."
"Worse than this?" Judy asked.
"Adults don't scream or want your attention. As I said, I don't like mammals."
"And I'm the exception."
"Lucky you," she waved off, only for a call to from one of the other waiters to call her back. "Sorry," she said. "I'm going to be late back, happy to walk?"
Judy paused, nose twitching a little. She shrugged and took off by herself.
A long walk, but she knew the way, and would keep to the main streets as things slowly went quiet.
Cars thinned, the gekkering mopeds only shrieked out occasionally.
The scream of sirens whistling off were more common.
Most of the road was taken up by vans and lorries, bin mammals and road workers, street sweepers and all sorts of mammals. Busy preparing the city ready for the next day.
On they worked and on Judy walked, left here, right there, slowly approaching the point where she'd cut off into the winding alley back to her place.
A cold wind blew through the air, causing her to hold her too thin clothes tight around her. Back in bed, back under the covers, she saw her alley entrance across the road. And the metro entrance sticking out of the pavement in front of her.
She could slip down and use the underpass, and she'd be home and warm.
Down the steps she skipped, tripping up slightly as she heard a cough to her side. Pausing at the base, she saw a small figure uncurl in a tight nest between the side of the steps and the tiled wall. Eyes opened, slits looked at her, the small growing and growing as the large cat shuffled in his rags and pushed out a cap.
Judy paused, before reaching in and dropping him a coin. To which he smiled, nodding.
Turning, off she walked, rising up the steps on the other side before a yell came out from below.
Ears up, head around, she watched as a goat leapt out over the turnstiles, a handbag in his hoofs.
He and her eyes met, they stared, before another shout from below had him taking off in the other direction, towards the empty staircase.
Not seeing the big cat until he stood out to stop him, and almost got a knife in the gut.
He hissed as he tried to tear it away with his paw, his pad sliced up and his mouth pulled into a feral twist of pain. Enough of a distraction for the goat to carry on running, even as Judy raced after him, following him back up onto the street.
She knew his game, same as any goat. Get high. And as he bolted onto the empty pavement, she saw him looking across for the nearest dumpster or fire escape, eyes eventually settling on a towering tree whose branches reached up and scratched against a shop front.
The blaring of police sirens only made him run faster, hoofs pounding as he made for the tree and begin climbing up.
"Stop!" She ordered. Not that he listened. Not that she followed.
She knew she couldn't climb half as well.
Instead she just backed off, watching as the cops crowded around, taking over.
And then the adrenaline dropped, Judy shaking on her feet and panting in and out, the excitement gone now that the baton was passed on. Instead, the bunny just paused, flagging down a cop and asking if he wanted her statement.
He nodded, bringing his pad out just as the bells began chiming.
And a yell came from above.
The bunny looked up before the world was torn to the side, something slamming into her and smashing her hard against the ground, her head spinning and side almost tearing from the grit scraping against it. Something almost exploded next to her, showering her narrow eyes with dust and pebbles, while policemammals swore and curse.
The adrenaline surged again, yet Judy stood still, wide eyes looking back to where she'd been and the broken tile lying there.
Her legs buckled and she felt sick, before her dizzy head turned to look up at the mammal who'd thrown her out of its way.
The last midnight bell chimed as she saw the moonlit green eyes of the fox above her, wet nose to her own twitching one as he smiled. "I must apologise… I think I badly overestimate how this would have gone."
And with that he stood up, helping the dazed bunny up onto her legs.
Her first part of the morning was a dizzy blur as she was looked over and then made her way back herself.
It almost felt like a dream as she made her way to a lecture in the morning, and the whole day seemed like it'd go the same way. Nothing felt quite real, nothing felt like what she'd normally hold onto and remember. Something something about some Inspector Wilde or whatever with the highest case rate or something something and…
And everything became all too real again as that fox walked up to the podium with a round of applause coming from everyone around her. Jolted up, Judy batted her paws together as fast as she could to make up, only for the tempo to grind to a halt as her and his eyes met…
A few seconds that felt like an hour and then he pulled down to his notes, and then gave a lecture that leant very much on style, but felt weak on the substance.
What Judy scribbled down was only stuff she knew, and by the end it was all feeling like a dream again, until someone tapped on her shoulder.
Judy turned around, stepping down as she saw the fox there, ears down. "I said you'd understand tomorrow…"
"You said you'd meet me at midnight," she whispered, shaking her head. "How. How?"
"You can guess."
Her nose twitched.
"Eliminate the impossible…"
"You are impossible," she said, turning away and marching away hard.
"I wish I was," was all he said. "And I need your help."
The bunny paused, looking back.
"I only see fragments, and so few going on," he said. "And so much of you in them. You're the best student here, right?"
"Yes."
"I…" he began, before someone called him off. He turned to her and smiled. "I've seen you get it." He turned, waving her off. "See you next time."
Judy's mouth opened, but the words died in her throat.
Ears down, a shiver in her spine, all she could do for now was close her eyes, breath in, channel elegance… And walk off, trying to hold it all together.
And wondering when next time would be.