72. "Oh What a Paradise It Seems"
But eventually, the celebration had to end. The fast-food festivities subsided, and the local legends and the employees of Le Bon Chevalier went their separate ways; besides, the wagers all had work in the morning, don'tcha know. Now it fell to the gentlemen to be gentlemen and escort the ladies safely back home. They could have probably taken public transit almost to the mayoral mansion's front door, the subway and buses never did stop running, but with the TAN's overnight service scaled back to once every twenty or thirty minutes, it really was almost faster to walk. They did get lucky and catch the 23 Sherwood Forest Boulevard bus to quickly cut diagonally southeast through the grid system, so that saved them quite some time, but knowing they'd be very unlikely to find an efficient transfer, they decided to get off at Tenth and Tennessee and walk the rest of the way. And why shouldn't they have? It was a beautiful summer night, and after their greasy feast, they could certainly use the exercise to burn off all those calories.
Or at least the two biggest eaters did; the foxes weren't quite as inclined to gorge on junk food as the sheep and the bear were. The pairs of Robin with Marian and Annie with Johnny had given each other some space to be alone, and not just for one-sided reasons. As the vulpines walked ahead, arm in arm as a couple should be, their heftier friends hung back to keep them in their line of vision should anything go awry, having their own discussion as two adults trying to do the adult thing.
…If they could ever get the words out.
"So…" Johnny began without really knowing where he was taking this, "...how you feelin'?"
Annie started her reply with a nervous chuckle. "Heh heh, erm… do ye mean emotionally or physically, lad!?"
Now it was his turn to force a chuckle, singular. "Uh… either? Heh… hrm…" A beat passed. "...Just kicking myself for being such a fatass that I… didn't have the foresight to think 'shit, maybe I shouldn't load up on burgers and soda before I gotta walk halfway across town!'"
She couldn't pretend to find that amusing. "Ye're stomach hurtin'?"
"...That's one way of putting it," the bear said with a smirk. "But, uh… guess that reminds me: sorry if I, uh… embarrassed you by being a little too understanding about plumbing issues in the middle of a classy restaurant, heh heh…"
Oh, God, after all the rest of that excitement, she had completely forgotten about that… misunderstanding, if we may call it. "Och-! Argh, Johnny, lad, don't worry about it! I was nae embarrassed-!"
"You sure? Because I feel like that really backfired - uh, no, uh, no pun intended…"
…Okay, now that was at least a little humorous and not just concerning. "Oh… God, Johnny! Nae, nae, lad, you… ye've nothin' to apologize for, I assure ye."
Alas, despite successfully eliciting laughter, Johnny did not feel assured. "Well… hell, at the very least, lemme apologize for flipping the fuck out on you for… well, just tryin' to have fun…"
Initially, Annie didn't even know what this was supposed to be referring to; by this point, it had been over an hour since that moment when she'd been so bold. But while her brain drew a blank on just tryin' to have fun, doing a mental scan for flipping the fuck out on you yielded the relevant result, and when it did, she was leagues more mortified than she was when he'd overheard her being gross in the ladies' room.
"...OH! Oh, no, no, Johnny, lad, no, I, I…" She paused to compose herself, noticing that the foxes were glancing back at her outburst as she did. "No, lad, no, I… you did absolutely nothing wrong, Johnny, that was entirely my-!"
"Well, it wasn't very gentlemanly of me to scream my head off in public at a lady half my size," he said ruefully.
This response unnerved her; he was clearly beating himself up over it and she felt fully responsible. "...Well, it wasn't very ladylike of me to do that, lad, and for that, I apologize."
"Y'ain't got nothin' to apologize for," he shrugged aloofly.
"Och, yes I do!" Klucky was frustrated, but not with him, just at herself for causing this situation. "I wouldn't want a lad doing that to me, and ye responded probably the same way I would!" She wanted to keep explaining herself, but made herself stop to give him a chance to talk; she wasn't expecting what he said when he did.
"...I'm the guy, though," the bear grumbled.
For a moment, the ewe had trouble constructing a response; all she could come up with was "...So?"
"So it's my job to just roll with the punches and take shit like that on the chin." Johnny wasn't looking at her as he said this, simply staring straight ahead down the street, dutifully watching the foxes. "...If that ain't what bein' a man is, then what is?"
No part of Annie was prepared for this conversation, but she felt she owed it to him to do her best anyway. "...Well, I know I'd think it's fully manly to set yer boundaries and not let people cross them."
"Yeah, if another guy fucks with you, then knock his fuckin' lights out. But that's when it's another guy."
"Or if a lass messes with ye," she said, trying to sound encouraging, "politely but firmly say, I don't like that, please stop."
He shook his head. "Naw. Not how I was raised." He still wasn't looking down at her. "I remind you, I'm from the South, there ain't no place down there for guys to talk touchy-feely shit - or… in this case, don't- touchy-feely, I guess…"
Annie produced a canned chuckle. "Och, Johnny, ye needn't explain it to me! Do ye think Scotland is that much of a touchy-feely place?"
"Well, yeah, you're European," Johnny replied without an iota of levity.
The sheep had to force herself not to laugh for real this time lest it seem like she was mocking his ignorance. "...Ehhh, perhaps, but we certainly think of ourselves as the tough lads and lasses of Europe! Och, and if Robin's told ye anything about his homeland, he ought to have told ye that once you disregard the posh people ye Yanks think they all are, they surely think they're formidable south of Hadrian's as well!"
"Well, I don't know who this Adrian guy is, but if you're tryna tell me that British people can be hardasses too, that might just explain why Rob's been acting like I've been acting like a little bitch for asking him to be more real and not act like Superman all the time."
She was just growing more concerned. "...Has he said that!?"
Johnny sort of wiggled his head. "...Not in so many words. But it's definitely the vibe he's giving me."
"Well, disregard what he thinks!"
"Is he wrong, though?" Still wasn't looking at Annie. "I was being a pussy asking him to be more open about what he sucks at just so I'd feel like less of a fuck-up myself, and I was being a pussy for getting defensive when you were just tryna have fun." A pause as he took a deep breath through his nose. "Or… shit, it took guts to touch me like that. Just like with Robin, I got pissy because you got more guts than I do and I know it."
"Och, no he doesn't. Ye're plentifully gutsy!" And she was this close to trying to add some humor to the situation by patting the bear on his actual physical gut, but thankfully she realized that that would probably be the worst possible thing she could do given the topic of conversation.
"Well, I hate to disappoint ya," he said, sounding pretty disappointed himself, "but all that time spent around Rob… I just got good at faking it. Turns out having a blatant disregard for your own safety looks a lot like confidence." He huffed. "But I'm brave enough to admit I still have the heart of a coward. I wish I could be as ballsy as him, but in the meantime, I just gotta hope me tryin' to fight my own nature is respectable enough."
"My God, can we please stop talkin' about Robin!?"
"Wish we could. But everything circles back to that son of a bitch."
The sheep simply chose not to pursue that line any further and rerouted to something more positive. "...Well, I don't think ye're a coward, lad. And you won't be changing me mind on that."
The bear shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Annie could admit one thing: if Johnny really wanted her to think he was a loser who knew he was a loser, he was doing a damn good job of carrying himself like one. But she just refused to buy it. She trusted her intuition to sense a loser when she saw one, and walking along that street that night, the only loser she saw was the redhead half a block ahead of them; she didn't see one when she craned her neck up.
"At least let me apologize for me own peace of mind, eh, Johnny?" she asked.
"...Alright." He almost sounded confused. "I won't deny you that then."
"And I won't be touchin' you like that again."
"Naw, it's alright, I-"
"No, it's not alright, ye clearly didn't like that so I won't be doin' that again." She said this with just the right amount of firmness to convey that she was forcing him to stand up against her transgression whether he liked it or not. "And ye cannae tell me not to say I'm sorry."
He still wasn't looking down. "...You're right, I can't."
And then they were silent. The ewe refused to say anything until the bear did, and he didn't have a clue what else he could say. But after walking past a few storefronts, Johnny decided he could at the very least explain himself.
"...I've just been taken advantage of a lot in life," he murmured. "...I mean, I'm sure everybody has, so don't let me be a whiner-"
"You're not," she said sharply, "and don't compare what ye've been through with others, this innae about them."
He seemed confused again. "...Okay, um… well, it's just… yeah, little shit like that, my brain's always gonna assume the worst intentions, so my bad-"
"No it isn't."
And with a puzzled wince, he finally looked down at her again.. "...Why are you so insistent on this?"
"Because I'm startin' to get the impression that if I don't tell ye these things, nobody will."
Johnny turned to face forward again. He was out of things to say once more, but this time, he didn't try to search for any.
"...May I?" the sheep asked bashfully.
The bear glanced down to see her arm was extended out towards his backside. He didn't answer; he simply put his own big arm out and pulled her in for a side-hug.
"...Thanks, Johnny," she said sweetly as she laid her head on his stomach like a pillow.
"Don't mention it."
And then she said something that she hoped would end this conversation on a high note. "...Can I call you my friend, Johnny?" she asked sweetly. "Can I call myself your friend?"
"...N-no. No."
That did not go according to plan. Part of her thought he was justifiably being shy with someone he admittedly still didn't know that well; a small part of her most certainly hoped he was just playing coy and was about to suggest they be more than friends. But looking up to gauge his expression… no, her read of his tone was right the first time: he was downright unsettled.
"...B-but why?" the sheep asked sheepishly to the bear she'd embarrassed.
"Men and women can't be just-friends." Stated as flatly as someone listing the state capitals. "...And even if we could, it wouldn't be appropriate."
"...Och, ye really were raised with old-fashioned values, weren't ye!?" she joked to conceal her own disappointment.
"Darn tootin'," he answered glumly. And they stayed silent as they kept walking, watching the foxes down the block have a discussion of their own that they couldn't make out.
"...How are you feeling, dear?" the vixen cooed to her tod. "It's been a few hours, are you still aching?"
"Ah, it's nothing I can't handle, my darling," Robin assured her, charming as ever.
"...I really was worried for you there."
"Just as I was worried for you," he said with a loving smile. "You've yearned to see me again just as long as I have you - the thought that after all that time, after we're finally reunited, it ends with you seeing me beaten to death? Truly, it sickens me. Truly it does."
Despite the macabre thought, Marian couldn't deny that the sentiment warmed her heart. "Even then, you were worried about how I'd feel."
"I was. You know how much injustice pierces my heart, Marian - what an injustice it would be that after all that time spent waiting, you got me back just to have me taken away from you in such a manner." He paused to stare down the street, shaking his head before continuing. "Honestly, my love, as I lay there, those mad women trying to beat me into an early grave… the most frightening part by far was when my life flashed before my eyes, and to my horror…" He turned back and locked eyes with her. "...I realized just how much of it I've spent without you."
Marian's cheeks burned hot beneath her red fur; his was the kind of line that would make her sheep friend projectile vomit, but the vixen loved every syllable of it. She had indeed been waiting eagerly for the moment when she was reunited with her tod, and moments like this flooded her with girlhood memories when she fantasized about marrying a princely man just like him; what fortune that such a man should be hers.
And yet… was it a matter of fortune at all? It must have been something about him saying he'd witnessed a replay of his life that got her thinking about the course her own had taken, and now, for reasons she couldn't tell you, she was seeing her own timeline in a way she'd never seen it before. She saw herself as a little girl playing pretend as a princess in a storybook romance with the perfect man - only to soon after become a slightly older little girl, starting school at an institution that was ninety-odd-percent vulpine, and finding all the other kits her age were significantly smaller than her… bar one towering tod who would gladly accept her invitation to play house. And play house they did, regularly, portraying the roles of each other's visions of a perfect partner, and as the years went on and their ideas of ideal partners matured… wouldn't you know it, that's just who they grew into: what the other one had always said they'd always wanted in a significant other. Marian had never realized it until she'd now been compelled to review an abridged version of her life with him, but now that she had… it really did seem like they'd willed one another's present personalities into existence.
They were both artists who could appreciate a good story; what a story this was that she was living. Not only were they made for each other, they had made each other. They were as close to intertwined at their roots as two people could be. This moment was always bound to happen, and it was always going to be beautiful. And all because they were each dedicated to being the person the other one needed.
Or maybe Robin with his well-documented track record of basing enormous decisions off the actions of fictional characters was still treating this relationship like an elaborate game of make-believe just like he was the rest of his life, and now she was stuck perpetually playing pretend with him.
…Good God, where did that thought come from!? Mari hadn't the fuzziest, but it probably had something to do with stupid Klucky poisoning her brain with negativity. But the vixen told herself not to think about the ewe and let it disrupt her time with her tod; not for the first time, she reasoned that Annie's skepticism and cynicism towards Robin was rooted in her friend's own insecurities about not having a healthy relationship of her own. If the sheep wanted to be a Bitter Betty, she could go and sulk over driving away the guy she had an insatiable crush on while Marian enjoyed her own love's company.
Telling, though, that that notion had just… occurred out of the blue, suggesting it had already been poking around in there somewhere. Well, with how hard Annie had tried to turn her off of him, surely, through sheer force of will, some of it eventually poked through.
"...Do you think they're actually happy?" Johnny asked to break the silence between himself and Annie, who he was still holding close as they walked.
"...Do ye suspect they aren't?"
"I mean… they are both actors," he explained as the gears turned in his head. "And both seem… well, they seem like they're well-put-together enough that they gotta be image-conscious to a certain extent. Maybe they're just damn good at faking it."
Despite her deep-seated refusal to believe that the foxes' relationship was healthy, even Klucky wouldn't go as far as to suggest it was illegitimate. "...Is there somethin' givin' ye that idea, or is it just that… they're actors?"
"Kinda the second one…" He was still formulating his hypothesis in real time. "...I mean, I don't hardly know more about Rob's upbringing than Marian's, but he's… suggested that he grew up in a very… in an environment where he was taught in no uncertain terms that appearances matter. Up to and including pretending things are better than they are because depressing shit won't draw people towards you."
The sheep had to pull herself out of the bear's hold to look up at him. "He said that?"
"He's hinted here and there that his biological father taught him to act all high-society to trot him around as a trophy son." Once again, he was staring off at Robin as if scrutinizing his body language for hints rather than reciprocating Annie's gaze. "...But naw, besides that, I ain't got no evidence that they might be faking it. Guess the thought just crossed my mind that… if they wanted to, they could."
"...Well, lad, as an actress me'self, I don't think I could fake an entire relationship," she replied. "...Though perhaps they're better performers than I am."
"Shit, maybe." Johnny was so deep in thought that he didn't even remotely clock how that comment might have struck her as rude, but thankfully she saw his pensive face and understood his mind was simply elsewhere. "...But since the kid's so goddamn coy about sharing his problems with me, it leaves me lookin' for hints of what they might be. And if they really are that happy… then they got me wonderin' what they're doin' right that I'm not."
"...It could very well be, Johnny, that they're simply gettin' lucky," Annie offered hopefully. "It's not your fault that ye're not."
"Well if my luck is always gonna be this bad, I'll just fucking kill myself and get it over with-"
"Johnny!" she snapped. "...Don't say things like that, lad!"
He didn't say anything at all for a moment. "...Yeah, that's probably another thing Rob would warn me would just turn people off from me…"
And dear God did Annie want to ask again that they not talk about Robin - but instead she parlayed that into a better question.
"...Ye really do think o' him as the main character, don't you, lad?"
"Do I have a choice?" Johnny answered. "If this were a movie… someone like him would be the hero, no two ways about it."
"But this isn't a movie, Johnny, this is your life, too."
"Pfft, tell him that." He rolled his eyes. "...And my life woulda been over by now if I hadn't run into him - and he knows that because I didn't see any reason to hide that shit from him. So by law, my life is indebted to him as his property - the only reason I'm not dead is because I found purpose as his fucking sidekick, so now that's what my life is. He is the main character in my life because it's not my life anymore." He let out a fuming sigh. "...So God knows what's gonna happen when I'm no longer useful to him."
She was too scared to speak. If any part of that was less than one hundred percent serious, then this bear was a more gifted actor than the three trained thespians he was walking with. But the sheep forced herself to be brave and push past the fear to say something.
"...That's not how it works, lad," she said gingerly. "He might 'ave saved ye from yerself, but… it's still your life."
But he was unmoved. "...Then it's downright pathetic that all I've done with it is be a building block in someone else's."
And now more than ever, Annie wanted to be able to love this guy like nobody else would - and not for her own sake this time, purely for his own. Maybe this wasn't quite the right conclusion to draw, but looking at him stare forlornly at the couple ahead of them, she couldn't stop thinking that Johnny needed his own Marian. Not even necessarily a romantic partner, just someone who could be a better friend to him than Robin was being. Annie truly had no doubts that Robin really had once given Johnny something to live for when he had nothing and nobody else, and that there was a time when the two were - pardon the expression - thick as thieves. But clearly something had gone wrong between them; the inherent inequality of their partnership had put them at an impasse, and now Johnny needed to be saved from the person who'd saved him.
…The sheep did recognize, by the way, that she was privately villainizing the fox much more than was probably accurate or necessary, but while she understood this was likely just a case of two dudes butting heads, between her antecedent reproach of the Englishman and her flourishing fondness for the bear… screw it, she wanted to imagine Robin as the unambiguous bad guy here. It made her feel good. First he was a lousy boyfriend to Mari and now he was being a lousy best friend to Johnny? Och, stop hurtin' the people I care about, Anglo! Ye care about all these impoverished strangers, but not the ones closest to ye!
"...Rob's prolly right, though," Johnny mumbled, "me talkin' about all this is prolly makin' you uncomfy, ain't it?"
"Not that ye're sayin' it, lad, but that ye're feelin' it. And that there's nothing I can do to make ye feel better," she explained tenderly. "...What would make ye feel better?"
All was quiet as the bear pondered that; besides the four of them, the cityscape was abandoned, with neither cars nor pedestrians to accompany them at that early hour. Beyond the cones of light they walked in and out of from the street-lamps above, there was nothing but darkness in almost any direction the eye could see, save for the faint glow of downtown in the distance, a few scattered apartment windows full of drawn curtains illuminated a pale yellow… and a giant Citgo station with twenty-four-pumps open twenty-four hours.
"...I could seriously use the john," said Little John.
Well, that wasn't what she was expecting. "Wait… really?"
"Really really," he confirmed. "Hey, guys!"
The foxes stopped and turned towards him.
"I gotta hit the men's really quick." He didn't waste time explaining further, instead walking towards the store.
"Argh, I'd best go me'self," Annie added, following. "Care to join us?"
"I'd be fine to wait outside as long as you are, Marian," said Robin.
"Ah, it is such a perfect night!" Mari replied with a contented sigh.
And so the two who had not eaten an irresponsible quantity of food and beverage to the point of bursting at their anatomical seams stood there at the corner, arms around one another's waists, gazing east-southeast towards the jagged outlines of high-rises barely more visible than the night that surrounded them, the scattered lit windows looking like stars that seemed so close despite being lightyears away.
"A city this small has no right to have a skyline this beautiful," the tod remarked.
"And perhaps one day… when my uncle finally lets go of it…" The vixen held him tighter. "...we might be able to truthfully call it ours."
"Ah, but who's to say we don't have the right to already-?"
"Excuse me!"
They turned to see a jackal approaching them, walking hurried and looking worried. He was dressed far too warm for a summer night, and appeared to be looking in every which way but at them. Before the foxes could greet him, he kept talking a mile a minute.
"Excuse me, folks, I'm tryna find a bus downtown that's still runnin', I've been walkin' all the way down from Twentieth Street, that bus ain't runnin', I got to Fifteenth, that one ain't runnin', I thought I remembered hearing that the Tenth Street bus runs all night long, and gimme your money."
And out came the gun.
Marian gasped and recoiled, covering her mouth so as not to let herself scream and make the situation worse. As for Robin, his first instinct was to hug her tighter with his good arm while positioning himself halfway in front of her to shield her, looking furiously determined as he did. But his bad arm was already busy digging in his pockets.
"Gimme your money," the jackal repeated in a low growl, "right now."
"I'm doing that," the tod seethed as he complied. "I'm giving it to you." He fished a large wad of cash out of his front right pocket and tossed it on the ground at the mugger's feet.
"Fuck was that!?" the jackal barked, pointing with his pistol at the money on the ground. "You think I'm stupid!? Pick that shit up and hand it to me!"
To minimize risk of a fast one being pulled on them, Robin pulled the money closer with his foot before bending down to retrieve it, not able to fully grasp Marian as he'd like but able to keep his good hand on her back the whole time. He was fuming, but he was nevertheless doing as he was told. In the fraction of a second that he did this, the mugger gestured at the vixen with his gun.
"You too, lady! Gimme your purse!"
"Just give it to him, Marian," Robin grumbled, but she didn't need to be told. She offered her purse and the jackal snatched it out of her hand, just as aggressively as he swiped the money out of Robin's.
"What else! Empty your pockets!"
"I'm doing that," Robin answered in the same guttural growl as he'd been talking this whole time; honestly, he wished he could appear more timid and afraid, because his anger peeking through could very well elevate the tension. But his fury at someone trying to take advantage of them - taking advantage of her - was something he was struggling to contain, even if he did know that playing docile was the best thing he could do. "Just don't hurt her."
"Don't make me!"
The foxes each turned their pockets inside-out and gave the jackal everything they had; the mugger had Marian's purse open and sitting in the crook of the arm that held the gun, inspecting his haul with his free hand. He didn't seem pleased.
"...You fancy-ass British people ain't got more money than this!?" he spat. "Is that all!?"
"Yes, that's all," Robin hissed, narrowing his eyes. "Now leave us alone."
The jackal scoffed. "Awww, don't you get testy with me, swiper! Even without a gun, I could beat yo' gay little lanky British ass! You're lucky you even got American money on you, ya dumbass tourist!"
And in a move that was so smooth that our hero didn't even see it coming, the mugger, making sure Robin's fiery eyes were boring into his and weren't catching anything else, swung Marian's purse up to cold-clock the tod square in the side of the head.
"GAH!"
"ROBIN!"
While far from knocking him out, it still carried enough force to leave Robin stunned and disoriented, making him stumble and almost lose his balance before Marian caught him.
And off ran the mugger down the street from whence he came. "Welcome to Nottingham!" cackled the jackal, and then he was gone.
"Robin, are you alright!?" Marian begged him as he rubbed the side of his head.
"Ahhh, he got me good." He was trying to laugh it off, but it wasn't working and he was clearly still livid. "But more importantly, Marian, are you alright."
Her adrenaline rush was settling down, and she was able to breathe more calmly again. "...It was quite the scare, but I'm alright, dear. I'm safe."
"...That's all I wanted," he said with a relieved sigh. "He could beat me all he wanted, so long as he didn't lay a hand on you."
He knew just the right things to say to take her heart from racing to fluttering in the span of ten seconds. She threw her arms around him, and he gladly embraced her right back.
"Arrrgh, but it was foolish of me to think we should just stand out in the open on a city street," he lamented. "This was my fault, my love, this could have been prevented if I'd-"
"No, no, Robin, no…" Marian cooed to calm him, "...I made the same decision, it wasn't just you keeping me out here."
The tod smiled warmly at her. "How did I ever wind up with a woman as patient and understanding as you?"
And the vixen couldn't help but chuckle; a recent epiphany had given her that answer. "Just as I wonder how I wound up with a man who knows precisely how to keep a lady safe." And as she said this, Marian took great joy in thinking that Annie ought to have been here to see this; that sheep would take back all the things she'd said about Robin if she had only seen how effectively and intelligently he would protect the people he cared about. "So many lads think playing the hero in a situation like that would mean trying to fight back and surely just making everything worse."
"Ah, and it was tempting!" he laughed. "If I were by myself or with Johnny, I just might have. But with a lady? Ha, I know how to play it the smart way!"
"How grateful I am to have found a man who understands that," she said in a near-whisper.
Robin smirked. "And none of those other men would have known that, would they have!"
…Oh. He was still thinking of that. All the chaos they'd been through between that difficult conversation and now, and that was still in the front of his mind. And this was the guy who'd been sent to classiness classes as a lad and knew how to implement those skills well, so for him to do bring it up again hours later at a moment when pretty much anyone would agree it wasn't classy to do so, that had to either be a deliberate action to be uncharacteristically passive-aggressive or a Freudian slip that he just couldn't contain. In fact, if the very point of those damnable etiquette classes was to teach the young tod how to never ever have an awkward moment ever, then he'd just done the exact opposite of what he'd always been programmed to do by leaving her stuck; there was absolutely nothing she could say to that statement that wouldn't just complicate matters further. So profound was her discomfort that she just about forgot that she'd been held at gunpoint less than sixty seconds prior.
Marian couldn't maintain her loving smile. But Robin kept smirking, looking confident as ever.
"Heh, we interruptin' sumpthin'!?"
They turned to see the bear and sheep approaching, each holding two large bottles of Aquafina. They were none the wiser.
"We resisted the urge to buy soda and got water instead!" Johnny beamed proudly. "It's warm and we've been doin' a lotta walkin', have some!"
The vixen giggled nervously. "Oh! Erm… th-thank you, but that won't be necessary-"
"Mari, where's ye purse," Annie observed, sharp-tongued and to-the-point.
Marian's mouth was open but words weren't coming out.
So Robin answered for her. "Ah, it seems we had an unfortunate run-in with someone who didn't recognize me and mistook us for a wealthy couple-"
"Wait a minute, WHAT!?" the bear roared.
"Someone who WHAT!?" the ewe shrieked at about the same time, running over to the vixen to hug her. "Are you okay, lass!?"
"Y-yes, yes, Klucky," Mari stammered, "Robin handled it perfectly-"
"GODDAMMIT!" Johnny hollered as he threw a bottle to the ground so hard that it popped. "I SHOULDN'T a' gone to the fucking bathroom! Where is he!? Did he get away!?"
"Calm yourself, Johnny, all is well," Robin assured him, fully composed. "We let him get away, as much as I didn't want to. He had a gun, the risk wasn't worth the reward. Life over pride. Discretion is the better part of valor! What's important is that each of us is safe, and everything lost can be replaced!" He paused to take Marian by each of her paws. "Name the date, darling, and I'll produce the money to take you shopping for the finest purse you could ever want!"
And while Marian was smitten, Johnny was still silently fuming that someone had taken advantage of his friends in his absence, and Annie felt conflicted about how Robin had indeed kept Mari safe despite directly putting her in positions that resulted in her losing her purse and gaining a shiner in the same night.
"Well, Johnny and I are glad you two are safe," the sheep said judiciously, "...but can ye replace her bloody driver's license without a journey back to Washington!? She can't get a new one for here without her old one from there!"
The Englishman's famous smile became about five percent less confident-looking after hearing that. "...Well, Miz Clough, a sharp mind for questions like that is why I trusted you to keep Marian safe whilst I was away!"
-IllI-
As punishment for losing sight of the girls for two consecutive days, Mayor Norman made Rocky sit out on the front stoop of the mansion until Mari and Annie finally came home; the rhino, having bills to pay, went along with it for a few hours, but eventually started to gather that nobody was actually checking that he was actually out there. Therefore, as an experiment, he pulled his car around to the front door and just kept watch from there for about another hour, and when he was twenty minutes past when he was supposed to be free to go and there was still no evidence that anyone would even notice if he left, he did. And a good thing he didn't waste his time, because when the ewe and the vixen got back, they just used the back door.
They did not get much sleep.
Knock, knock, knock.
Not for their lack of trying.
…KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
That at least got them stirring.
Rattle, rattle, rattle. "LADIES!"
The lion's wimpy attempt at roaring was enough to get them alert and cognizant.
"...What is it, Uncle!?" Mari called back groggily.
"Ladies, why is the door locked!?"
"Because we don't trust ye not to be a creep…" Annie quipped in what she thought was a quiet enough voice.
"What was that!?"
"Och, just saying, us ladies tend to like our privacy!" the sheep replied in a sweet tone that didn't match the silent nyeh nyeh nyeh faces she was making immediately afterwards.
"...ANYWAY, I came to personally invite you to Sunday breakfast!"
"Oh, but that's quite alright, Uncle!" said the vixen. "We're not hungry at the moment!"
"Ah, but I insist! We never did have a proper welcoming meal, so Charles is presently cooking a full English breakfast large enough to serve the British Navy! Come, share in a traditional feast to remind you of home!"
"What about a full Scottish breakfast to remind me of home?" asked the Celtic woman, no longer caring to mask her defiance.
"... Excellent! I'll expect you down in a few minutes!" And off he walked down the hallway, muttering unintelligible curses under his breath until his voice finally faded out.
But Annie would not need coffee or tea that morning to wake herself up; the outrage had her more energized than a Red Bull espresso ever could. She slid herself out of bed and immediately began pacing furiously, twitching now and then as if trying to shake the anger out of her body.
"AAAAARGH, that fucking lion! He's not just too fucking stupid to know you don't barge into a woman's room, he's fucking arrogant about it!" She made her way over to the eight-foot sailor teddy bear occupying her corner of the room and promptly began delivering haymakers to its stomach.
"Klucky, Klucky, calm down!" Mari chuckled as she watched the show. "Don't take your frustrations with Bad Johnny out on poor Good Johnny! Your boyfriend-in-effigy doesn't deserve that!"
That did succeed in getting her to stop as the sheep turned and pointed at the vixen, staring daggers. "I'm not in the FOOKING mood, Mari! And leave him the FOOK out of this!"
Mari backed down. "...I, er… m-my apologies, Klucky, I, er… didn't realize those jokes bothered you that much."
Annie recognized that the apology was genuine and that she herself had been a bit out of line; she simmered down most of the way, but not completely. "Well, before last night, it wouldn't have."
"...What were the two of you talking about last night?"
But the ewe just shook her head and held up a hand. "Not important right now, lass. What is important…" She pointed at the fox's face. "...is what we're goin' to do about that."
-IllI-
Walking through the kitchen to take a shortcut through the dining room, it felt not unlike walking along a city sidewalk in front of a building being remodeled, considering all the scaffolding set up to allow the diminutive and dismembered weasel-y thing could operate everything from the oven to the stovetop. As the ladies passed by, Hess was hustling from the microwave to the tea kettle, appearing on the verge of fainting, and while it was truly a sight to behold, it was a sight that made you feel dirty if you thought about it for too long.
"Are you really doing all that by yourself, Charles?" asked Marian. "May I offer to help? I wouldn't feel right making you do all the work."
"Oh, no, no!" came the singsong voice of the mayor as he waltzed in from the dining room. "Charles takes pride in his work, he doesn't need any assis-! Marian, why are you wearing sunglasses?"
She and Annie were expecting that and had an answer ready to go.
"Ah, Klucky and I were planning on going to the beach right after breakfast!" Mari beamed. "What can I say, Uncle? I just can't wait to get into my sun wardrobe!"
The lion raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's considered rude to wear sunglasses at the table!"
"That's hats, numbnuts," came the voice of the unseen deputy from the other room, "you're thinking of hats."
"WELL, IT'S RUDE TO WEAR SUNGLASSES, TOO!" the mayor hollered through the doorway before turning back to the girls. "My house, my authority, ladies!"
"Och, but Johnny boy…" Annie cooed, "are ye really goin' to cause a fuss over this? Richard promised us you were much more fun than the last time we saw ye!"
For a split second, John was liable to snap at the mention of his brother's name, but the rest of that sentence definitely struck him as… intriguing. "...Richard said that."
"He did! He said ye wouldn't mind bein' a little more lax and a little less formal!"
"He also said that you'd become a much better leader of the city you serve!" added Marian. "One who understands that austerity does little to inspire the masses!"
…Oh my fucking God, he actually bought it. "Wh-why, yes, yes, yes!" he giggled as his face curled into a wryly amused grimace. "Of course I've learned a thing or two about being a personable leader over the years! About time my damned brother gave me the credit I deserve! Still not enough credit, but I suppose it's a start, heh heh heh…"
The mayor trailed off with a twisted chuckle and was doing that thing that movie villains do where they tap their fingertips in front of themselves; Annie and Mari simply watched with polite smiles and tried not to be too weirded out by whatever the hell they were witnessing.
"Ah, in that case, I'll welcome the sunglasses, then!" said the lion as he gestured for the ladies to follow him into the dining room. "I might just start wearing my hat to the table myself! But please, please, get out of that kitchen, it's far too hot in there!"
Entering the room, the girls were expecting the deputy who they'd heard and the sheriff by extension, the squirrel at least trying to give them a friendly nod while the wolf just ignored them to scowl at the wall. But the one they weren't sure was going to be there was indeed there, and now they had to scoot around an awkward encounter.
"Aye, Rocky, it's so great to see ye again!" Annie greeted as soon as she could to get the moment over with as fast as possible. "Och, so sorry about yesterday!"
"We felt terrible losing sight of you, but we didn't want to put our day on hold to find you again!" Mari beamed. "We appreciate the work you put in to keep us safe, but we assure you, we're big girls, we can take care of ourselves!"
The rhino was not offended; he just looked stoic and bored as always. "It's alright, ladies," he answered formally, "it's just my job."
The ewe and vixen smiled wider and nodded; they knew the bodyguard was cool, they just wanted to square things away with him.
"And what a job it is," John said as he took a seat at the head of the table, a tone in his voice like that was supposed to be some devastating stinger. "Ladies, ladies, sit, sit! It's a Sunday morning, don't exert more energy than you need to!"
"Charlie Boy looks like he's exertin' a lot of energy," Annie remarked.
"Yes, but that's his job! Huehuehueh… It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to make you do someone else's job… heh, although perhaps I should be making you do the cooking since that is the province of women! Heh heh…"
The girls stared blankly at the mayor, waiting for him to realize that that was a stupid thing to say. He never did.
"Absolutely no part of what you just said was gentlemanly," said George. "Literally no syllable or letter was in any way classy or respectful."
"I do admit, Uncle, it was a bit perplexing to see Charles on cooking duty," said Marian, "as I thought I recalled you having a private chef for the mansion last time I lived here."
"I did have a private chef!" the lion said proudly. "I had several! But none of them would work for more than a few months without resigning over some petty squabble, so I decided to let Charles do it. Hmph! Good help is so hard to find these days…"
"It really is astounding that after all these years, you still haven't had a single moment of reflection that maybe you're the problem," Nutzinger quipped. "Absolutely breathtaking. It's like a piece of performance art at this point."
Prince John ignored him. "Besides, having a personal chef seemed so… excessive, wouldn't you say? As Richard is finally realizing, I'm a good leader, and I mustn't appear out-of-touch with the common people!"
But the deputy was on a roll. "Rightrightright, because you were just on the precipice of being relatable to us commoners without that one detail."
And that's when the sheriff, who'd been silently smoldering at nothing in particular up until that point, finally decided to pay heed to the squirrel sitting on the table. "Nutsy, you're lucky you gotta work on a Sunday morning, 'cause you'd get your little ass thrown outta church for talkin' too much."
"Ward, the only reason I'd go to church is to watch you get kicked out for drinking all the wine and wolfing down all the sacramental wafers. Probably asking 'oh, these potato chips are stale, why aren't they at least salted-?''"
"I must say, Uncle," Marian interrupted to break it up, "we weren't expecting the sheriff and deputy over, we'd have been ready for breakfast earlier had we known they'd been invited."
"That's the thing though," the squirrel said as politely as he could, "we weren't invited for breakfast, we were just told to come here for work and there happened to be food being cooked, and you know Wolfie here can't resist that."
"I grew up poor, Nutsy!" Woodland barked. "I don't waste food! Y'saw how much Chuckie was cookin', ain't no way these skinny little shits're gonna eat that all by themselves!"
"Dude, there is a rhino in the room. Unless he's being starved as punishment for-"
"Breakfast is ready!" called Hess as he walked triumphantly in from the kitchen, just to look reserved a moment later: "...May I request some assistance transporting it in?"
"Rocky, would you please?" the mayor asked, and his bodyguard dutifully got up and went to help carry the plates in. Soon enough, everybody had their plates in front of them, and the food looked… um… y'know, I'm gonna hand it off to George for this one.
"...You're actually gonna eat that slop?" the deputy asked his sheriff when he saw the wolf start wolfing down the meal without prejudice. "You wanted to make a Sunday breakfast but absolutely nothing on that plate looks like God would accept it into his kingdom."
"George," the mayor said sharply, "others are trying to enjoy their food. Must you dampen the mood with your predictable jokes?"
"Predictable jokes?" It took Nutzinger a second, but when he figured out what the lion was referring to, he turned to face the vixen and ewe. "Oh, ladies, that's not some hack joke about British cuisine, that's a rip on this specific British guy's cuisine because he thought it was ethical let alone practical to have a guy with no arms cook a meal for seven people. Like, even you, Charlie, I don't blame you for this food looking like it was cooked with candlelight, you did what you could with an impossible task."
"...Thank you, Deputy," steamed the mustelid seated next to him on the table so he could eat with the only dextrous appendages he had.
"Hell, I'm not even gonna make a joke about not wanting to eat something that someone cooked with their feet because they're still probably cleaner than Ward's grubby paws. Never shake this guy's hand, he doesn't use soap after he goes to the bathroom-"
"I never used soap growin' up!" Woodland spat, figuratively and a bit literally with his full mouth. "Hot water was good enough fer us then, why should it be any different now?"
"Because you're a fucking adult now who should understand germ theory-"
"Gentlemen!" the mayor snapped again. "This is not the most appetizing conversation to be having over a meal!" And then - shock horror - the lion did something that could maybe be argued faintly resembled remotely competent leadership by taking initiative to change the topic himself. "Sooo, ladies! You say you're going to the beach later? As long as it's not Rehoboth, I…disapprove of that wretched place."
"Oh, sure, you disapprove of them because they had the fucking audacity to not grant you political immunity to make an ass of yourself." The squirrel's riffing was on an absolute roll today. "Hey, why is a guy in a Rehoboth Beach holding cell scarier than a guy in a Nottingham holding cell? You know the guy in Rehoboth did it."
"But in any case," the mayor continued unabated, "wherever you will go, I hope this time Rocky manages to successfully keep an eye on you two-"
"Och, leave him alone, Johnny!" said the sheep, trying to sound sympathetic to the rhino but just sounding uninhibitedly aggressive towards the lion. "Mari and I are busy lasses and we can't expect him or anybody to keep up with us without losing track eventually!"
"Two days in a row, however?"
"Our lives are fast-paced and this is such an exciting city!" Marian said as cutely and breathily as she could while shrugging bashfully.
Prince John did not buy that. Nobody in the room bought that. Deputy Nutzinger probably would have remarked on how farf-etched that statement was if any of the boys in the room had said it, but he refrained because he thought the girls were victims of an unenviable situation just as much as he was. But the goal of the vixen's whimsical remark was never to be believable; it was to send a message that she and the sheep were gonna put up a fight every time the lion just expected them to submit to his will.
"...You know, Marian, it's very difficult to tell whether you're making eye contact with me with those sunglasses on."
"Oh, my apologies!" she answered unapologetically.
"...Perhaps you should take those things off-"
"Oh, I'm quite comfortable, thank you!"
"I'm asking nicely-"
"Not nicely enough, lad," Annie cut in. "She said she's quite comfortable."
Everything was still, everything was tense, and nobody was doing anything except staring at each other - minus the sheriff loudly chowing down on his food, but they were all used to ignoring that.
"Could I at least appeal to your good nature and encourage you ladies not to live such wild lives?" the mayor asked with an air of ludicrously false joviality. "If for no other reason than to make poor Rocky's job easier-"
"Quite the contrary, Uncle, we think he shouldn't have to work so hard!" the vixen answered with just as much saccharine.
"Besides, lad," added the ewe, "if he's your bodyguard, then who's been watchin' you!?"
Prince John looked like he'd just shit his pants. "O-oh! I, er, erm, b-b-but I'm a man! I don't need protection as much as you ladies do! I-I, er…" But then, without warning, he suddenly looked devilishly determined all over again. "And that's right! Miz Klump, you especially keep bringing up that I seem to misunderstand how a man should treat a lady! Well, in my efforts to learn and better myself, the tales of which my brother regaled you, I've realized that it would be not only rude, callous, and ignorant to make two ladies walk the city streets alone, but moreover perilous! Criminally negligent I dare-say if I were to let you wander this city without Rocky's protection if I can avoid it!"
"Notice he still didn't even take one iota or responsibility for the violent crime rate in the city he supposedly leads," noted George.
Mari and Annie nodded calmly, conceding that that was a good showing of defense. But they had an ace or two up their sleeves.
"And you know what, Uncle?" Marian began. "Genuinely, genuinely, I'm elated to hear that you're undertaking such an endeavor to understand the fairer sex, but, even if Klucky wasn't already built like a brick wall who could take any lad who tried to make a pass at us…"
On that cue, the sheep pulled a canister out of her head wool and presented it for all to see. Marian continued narrating:
"...Springer's Xtra Strength Fox Repellent! To keep all the dodgy tods at bay. Which you gifted to me just the other day, don't you recall?"
Aaand he was back to looking like he'd soiled his trousers. "W-w-well, yes, I did, but that was never meant to be some sort of… some sort of be-all-end-all one-size-fits-all solution! After all, any given species is vastly outnumbered by the cumulative numbers of all other species, are they not!? Tods would surely be a very small problem compared to everyone else-"
"Which is why ye also gave us this, Johnny!" Annie said triumphantly as she pulled out the other spray can. "Bear Repellent! Also Xtra Strength, emphasis on the X! Which surely ye must've picked since it'd probably work on anybody - can't imagine why else ye'd choose bear spray specifically! Just can't imagine! Who wouldn't be burdened by takin' this to the face?"
John, meanwhile, couldn't imagine a word to say.
But the deputy imagined several things and said all of them. "You bought them fox and bear repellent!?" The squirrel held out an imaginary microphone to the lion. "Hi, George Nutzinger with Holy Shit News, how do you respond to allegations that you're a fucking idiot?"
"George, do you only exist to make not-so-witty witticisms, or do you wish to take a side in this like an adult!?" the lion hissed.
"Fine, I'll take a side. I'm against you. They're asking you nicely to stop forcing Rocky to stalk them. Get with the fucking program."
"...You and your foul mouth…" The mayor glared at the deputy. Then he glared at the vixen with her sarcastic smile. Then back at the squirrel, then back at the vixen. And then the lion was overcome with laughter that he struggled to suppress.
"Man, you think my mouth is foul, but you still keep thinking that!" Looking secondhand-embarrassed, George turned to Marian. "I'm sorry Miz, uh… Vixen Whose Last Name I Forget, he's making fun of both of us and you don't deserve that any more than I do."
Mari had no idea what the deputy was talking about; she didn't think she wanted to.
Nevertheless, Nutzinger's call-out of Mayor Norman actually worked, and his own embarrassment killed his laughter at the perverted imagery in his head. "Erm… what about you, Charles? Have you no interest in backing me up here!?"
But the weasel had been occupied by eating and thinking, mostly thinking. "Er… n-no, sir, I have confidence that you can handle this yourself." He was observing this spat realizing that things were coming to a head - which meant they might be coming to a head for them, too. Reading through his journals, Hess was nearing the verge of madness trying to figure out his best next course of action. He had a suspicion about what might be under the vixen's unexpected wraparound sunglasses, but if he was right, he wouldn't have been able to explain it - but he might have been able to manufacture a story that his boss might find useful without ever realizing it would be rendering him more vulnerable. Charles had leverage: the mayor's reputation was in the toilet after the Rehoboth Beach incident, and the Club Milton Park incident, and by proxy the Chuckle Bunker incident, and just generally sucking at his job. But the weasel was trying to make sure that he wasn't just jumping at every opportunity to mix things up rather than picking and choosing the best opportunities. But that meant thinking fast at a moment's notice. If your brain could have a heart attack from overexertion, he might have been on the verge of having one.
Denied, the mayor simply huffed and scowled around the table indignantly, nonverbally protesting that everyone there was against him (they were) without having good reason (they each had several). But he broke the silence by saying something that initially seemed rather random and offhand.
"...Deputy, I've noticed you've not only hardly touched your food, but you seem to have actively scooted away from it. Does it offend you?"
As planned, Nutzinger had a rant ready to go. "I can't eat it because this motherfucker's slobber is getting all over the place!" he answered, gesturing towards the sheriff who was still devouring his plate unabated. "And I dunno how, but I had this, like, premonition that Wolfie's gonna vomit all over his plate, and me, and then just keep eating around it as though it's no big deal! …Assuming he doesn't eat the puke itself like he doesn't even think about what he's consuming. I-I mean, look at that, he's piling shit on top of each other to shove it all down his gullet faster!"
The Mayor was hoping the squirrel's bitching and moaning would last longer than that, but he adapted and pushed the conversation forward. "Ah, Sheriff Woodland! You're familiar with the tradition of putting the baked beans on the toast?"
Ward looked up, utterly baffled. "What're you talkin' about?" he asked with his mouth full.
When nobody answered, he swallowed and continued.
"...Bush's Baked Beans are better…" he grumbled before going back to scarfing down his seemingly bottomless breakfast.
"Of course ya think the American equivalent is better, ya jingoistic retard," George continued. "...Aw, who'm I kidding, you don't even know what that word means. This guy probably thinks jingo is a board game that's a cross between Bingo and Jenga-"
"AAAAAHHH!"
The mayor's plan had worked like a charm; everybody was paying attention to George's editorializing and nobody noticed John lunge to flick Marian's sunglasses off her head until the deed was already done; some of them didn't even notice until the vixen shrieked.
And how mortified she looked when everyone saw that black eye she was sporting. She and Annie had been prepared for the secret getting out, but not like… that. As much of a shitbag as her god-uncle could be, there were still lines he never crossed; him coming anywhere close to laying a hand on her was unexplored territory, and now she was petrified as she wondered whether his previous standards for himself were now defunct.
But the sheep wouldn't let this go without remark. "...What the bloody hell is wrong with ye, lad!?"
Nor would the squirrel. "Jesus fucking Christ, dude, I'm not entirely convinced you don't just wake up every morning and think I'm an enormous asshole, but I strive to be an even ENORMOUS-ER asshole! For shit's sake, man, are you proud of yourself!?"
He was, incredibly so. He'd just weaponized the deputy's incessant snark for his own gains and he was feeling very crafty and cunning indeed. "You know, Marian, I was going to ask just where you ladies went last night, and this makes that question all the more interesting! Tell me, tell me, what kind of shenanigans did you two get up to last-?"
"That's really none a' yer business, laddie," Annie said sternly.
"But if you must know…" Mari had a fib prepared. "...Fret not, it was actually courtesy of another vixen, not a lad of any type. We were down by the water, it was crowded, we bumped into each other, she saw a tall red figure, might have even smelled a fox, and as she said when she realized it, she thought I was a tod being a creep when she hit me. But she panicked and ran off before we could get any other information from her." She finished with a dejected shrug.
And everyone was confused because, tragically enough, that was just about believable. The trendy area by the bay being crowded on a Saturday night, Marian passing for a guy, Nottingham being full of people who would skip straight to violence just to flee when they realized they'd fucked up; all of it tracked. And hell, as much as it killed her to have to confess her androgynous looks, this made a much better lie than her first draft, which had been to simply say she'd fallen out of her new and unfamiliar bed.
But Dear Reader, of all the observers, I want to turn our attention to Charles Hess. When the black eye was revealed, he was immediately struck with an idea of something that… might have conceivably happened, but probably not, and he knew it. But if this new story was fabricated, and the ladies were being intentionally vague to cover their tracks-
"And there were no bystanders who stood up for you, Marian!?" Or witnesses?
"What could they do? She's already run off. And you know how people are, they tend to mind their own business."
-that left him an opening.
"Well, Miz Swift, that breaks my heart to hear that, I'm so sorry that happened to you!" Yet he wasted no time turning to his boss and shifting gears. "Mayor, may I speak to you in private in the other room?"
For posterity, Mayor Norman bought Marian's story wholeheartedly but thought it didn't preclude the possibility that she'd also spent time with her bandit beau, and he was still intent on snuffing out the details. "Charles, please, we're in the middle of a perfectly good conversation-"
"I think you'd like to hear what I have to say."
"I'd also like to hear what Marian and Miz Klapp have to say."
"Well I think you'll like this more."
"And why is that?"
Now all eyes were on these two idiots bickering, and while the mustelid didn't want to have to play this card, he knew it would work.
"...You did say you'd make an effort to start listening to me more, sir."
Not for the first time that morning, the lion looked spooked. But now that he was in this spot, his political instinct told him to control the damage. "Er… y-yes, I remember now! I did, didn't I!? Thank you, Charles, I deserved to be called out like that! Excuse us, ladies and gentlemen!" With that, he picked up the weasel by the throat to carry him out into the hallway, then walking down to shut themselves in the nearest bathroom.
"Why the bloody hell did you call me out like that!?" the lion growled as he threw his assistant down into the sink.
The mink-like creature struggled to get to his feet in the slippery hemispherical bowl as his body ached, but it was nothing he wasn't used to. That said, to avoid unnecessary further hostility from the petulant pussycat, Charles cut right to the chase:
"Tell them the outlaw did it."
…John was puzzled. "Did what?"
And now, with Hiss Mode enabled: "...Tell your cccitizzzens that your nieccce's injury was the foxxx's doing. A sssurefire sssmear campaign."
The mayor cocked his head. He was listening.
"Whether her exxxplanation is true or not is sssuperfluousss to our goalsss," Charles continued, "the vixxxen sssaid it herssself: there were no witnesssssesss…"
The lion nodded very, very slowly, a pensive expression on his face.
"Who would ssstand up to sssay our ssstory is falssse…?" If there weren't people waiting on them in the other room, he'd have pulled out the pocketwatch, but in this time crunch, deep eye contact boring into his boss's soul would have to do. "There exissstsss indisssputable evidence that she's been abusssed… but by whom? Why not your greatessst foe?" Go on, Johnny, trot your god-niece out there with a black eye and suffer a PR nightmare for thinking that was a good decision, a nightmare you'll need me to save you from…
The gears in John's head were turning; it looked like they would grind to a halt right where Charles needed them to rest. "So… you propose that I-"
"Ssstate he's resssponsssible for domessstic asssssault, and make the ruffian ssseem dessspicable," Hess hissed, "and his cccivilian sssupport will sssuffer… a sssimple ssscheme, wouldn't you sssay?"
Again, the mayor nodded slowly and almost imperceptibly, merely pondering the plan. Then, after a moment of peaceful reflection, he grabbed his assistant around the torso with one hand, turned the faucet on with the other, and promptly began waterboarding the weasel. Except it wasn't really waterboarding because the sink was on full blast.
"How daft ARE you, Charles!?" the lion roared while his assistant tried not to drown; after roughly ten seconds of hosing the mink in the face, he turned the water off to make sure it wasn't too loud for Hess to hear. "To do that would be to publicly admit that I've known this whole bloody time that THE FOX IS DATING MY NIECE!"
John dropped Charles into the porcelain bowl, where he coughed the icy water out of his lungs, rolling over onto his side to make sure he didn't Hendrix himself. Almost as bad, however, was the realization that… goddammit, the mayor had kind of a good point. Hess was so used to it being an open secret in the circles he kept that it hadn't even dawned upon him that it wasn't officially public information. He was kicking himself for his lack of foresight - but then he thought that this, too, might be an opportunity if he played this hand correctly.
"Tell them you fell into the toilet again," the lion fumed as he left the weasel there in the sink and made his way out of the lavatory.
"Wait!"
He only got one foot out into the hallway before he halted and turned around. "What do you want now?"
Charles gave himself exactly one second to compose his thoughts before speaking: "Maybe… maybe it is time to tell the public of your relation."
Prince John looked unimpressed.
"...Sell it correctly," Hess continued, "...and it may grant you currency back with your public if you persuasively explain that your recent missteps have been the result of a torturous secret burning in the back of your mind… You can be persuasive, can't you, sssssire?"
Prince John looked less unimpressed.
-IllI-
"...Why is he wet?" the deputy asked the duo as they reentered the dining room. "Were you waterboarding him again!?"
"Ohhh, George, never a dull moment with you around, hmmm?" The mayor chuckled a painfully artificial chuckle as he picked his assistant up and sat him back down on the table - but not until he put a paper towel down to catch the drip-water. "Just a slight mishap as he fell into the sink attempting to wash his hands!"
"...His hands."
"Quite right!" John beamed as he resumed his seat.
The others all looked at one another, seeking confirmation that they weren't each mishearing that. Even Ward stopped and looked up from his second overflowing plate of food.
"...His hands, Johnny," stressed Annie, "his hands."
…Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock… "OH! Well, er, erm… I-I was trying to dignify his struggles with Phantom Limb Syndrome! But if you all wish to grant him no comfort and remind him of his disability, well, I have no power to stop you, hmph." He pompously reset his napkins in that way that fancy people arrange them. "I pray we didn't miss any riveting conversation!?"
"Just that these baked beans you British people are such sluts for are Heinz brand, which makes them American anyway," answered Nutzinger, "meaning our attempts to counter-colonize your culture are exceeding expectations."
"Yes, yes, that's nice," the mayor murmured absentmindedly, "but now I think we'd best continue our breakfast in peace and tranquility without a row breaking out…"
That was his way of saying he had a lot of thinking to do. The others found it odd, but they didn't care to talk to him, so they bantered amongst themselves without him; though the external noise did clutter his mind to some extent, it wasn't enough to extinguish his inner voice, so he tolerated the static.
Did he think he could convincingly excuse away all his misbehavior by telling the people that he'd simply been distracted? Of course he thought he could, he thought could do anything because he was great. But was it worth it? Would a savvy politician even need to put forward explanations to unravel the mystery behind his more head-scratching decisions? And what would make him look more confident and capable, framing it as an apology and resolution to do better, or ruling with an iron fist and saying 'here's the facts, live with them'? But above all, promises to listen more be damned, should he even make such a big decision on the word of a cripple? Surely strong leaders didn't take the advice of invalids, invalids are devoid of strength by definition!
This was not going to be a quick decision. But he was giving it all he could to arrive at a sound conclusion as fast as possible. Mayor Norman was giving this quandary his full attention and not thinking about anything else, not even chewing his food.
"...Ack! …ACK!"
"Wait, is he choking on a sausage!?" asked the squirrel. "Th-that's not a gay joke, I think he's actually choking on a piece of sausage!"
Even the people at that table who hated the lion - which was all of them - all got out of their seats to assist him. Rocky and Ward stood him up out of his seat to get him upright.
"Shit, I'm too big," said Rocky in a rare moment of outward worry, "if I give him the Heimlich wrong, I might kill him. Does anybody else know!?"
"I DO!"
It was Annie, and judging by the look on her face, you trusted that she knew what she was talking about. Everyone else backed off of the lion so she could perform the life-saving maneuver, and with all her might, the sheep punched him hard as fuck in the stomach.
"ACK!"
Everyone else glanced about in confusion, but nobody dared say a word. Then the ewe punched him harder as fuck in the stomach.
"ACK!"
"I… don't think this is how the Heimlich maneuver is supposed to go," Hess murmured timidly.
"Nono," said Nutzinger, "this is better."
"It's the Scottish Heimlich maneuver, laddie!" Annie declared proudly as she punched the mayor the hardest as fuck as she could in the stomach.
"ACK!"
"Erm… Klucky…" Marian had found the first hit amusing, but now this was striking her as a bit excessive; she was just too empathetic. "I, er… I think you're supposed to thrust up."
"Ah, that's right, lass!" And with that, Annie took a few steps back, got a running start, and delivered an uppercut blow with enough force to dislodge the sausage-
"PWAH!"
-and completely knock the wind out of him.
Mayor Norman collapsed to the floor as he once again struggled to breathe, but they gave it a few seconds and his diaphragm got back on track.
"Miz Cullen!" he barked as he got back to his feet. "I was struggling for air and you were punching me in the gut!?"
"It worked, didn't it?" she shrugged.
"I COULD HAVE DIED!"
"Well," George spoke up, "according to at least one lynx we saw on the street downtown ranting and raving and wearing a sandwich board - we think he was on drugs - a certain segment of the population wouldn't exactly be unwelcoming of such a development."
Understandably, this set the mayor off, and he proceeded to berate and vilify the people who had just saved him. All except for Charles, who was off staring into space, thinking again, this time about how perhaps he shouldn't kamikaze his boss's popularity too much, realizing now that a, ahem, premature evacuation of office would surely derail the assistant's own plans.
-IllI-
For posterity, the boys didn't get much sleep, either.
Knock knock knock.
But they put up a valiant effort.
…KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
The noise fell upon deaf ears.
"...I'm just gonna use the key-"
"Terry, don't be dramatic-"
"I'm not being dramatic, I'm just using the key. It's still my house-"
"OUR house."
"Our house-"
"Terry-"
"Iiin the miiiddle uvvv thaaa street!"
"Terry, put the keys away."
"But even if our house isn't a Maxwell House, these guys need to wake up and smell the coffee."
"Terry, they're paying money for the right to privacy."
"My response to that is simple: I deeply do not care."
"Jesus fucking Christ…"
Moments later, clicks could be heard as the deadbolt disengaged and the door opened softly.
Terry played dumb. "You boys awake?" he asked at the volume of someone who meant to whisper but forgot to.
Finally, their tenants stirred, and seeing the husband and wife in their room did the trick to wake them up fast.
"Heyyy, Bobby, Jack, sorry to disturb you two, but… it's Sunday, do you guys go to church?"
As they struggled to get the brain fog to dissipate, let alone to speak articulately, the renters once again inadvertently demonstrated how disarmingly in-synch they were, as they each independently assumed that this was Toni and Terry's way of telling them they expected their tenants to be churchgoers.
Knowing Terry preferred him over Robin (and indeed, the large tod was giving eighty percent of his eye contact to his ursine houseguest rather than the even bigger tod who Terry was so transparently jealous of), "Bobby" took it upon himself to do the talking. "I, uh, I-I mean, we don't, uh, we don't usually, um, but we aren't, uh, opposed to, uh…"
Alas, "Jack's" deep-seated sense of politeness couldn't stand to see his friend stammer like that, so he chimed in - even if his own English eloquence software hadn't fully booted up yet either. "B-but, er, erm, Terry, if you, er, if you are asking us to accompany you as you go this morning, we can, er, we could gladly be polite and come along and regard it as a sort of, erm, culture-sharing experience, as we are your guests after all-"
While Terry tried to suppress his laughter, Toni stepped forward to put the boys out of their misery. "No, no, guys it's okay - we prefer it this way!"
"Jack" and "Bobby" stopped their sputtering and processed this bombshell.
"You… you do?" asked the bear.
"Of course!" the vixen smiled. "We don't go either - this way we feel less judged!"
"Honestly, Bobby, it was you we were worried about!" her husband said as he pointed at Johnny. "You being from the Bible Belt and all."
The Southerner had such little reaction to that that if he was a performer in a movie, you'd accuse him of underacting. "...My old man liked to smack me upside the head with the Bible, I think I've been intimate enough with that book for one lifetime, thanks."
Toni and Terry laughed at his deadpan reply, amused as people of that generation often were when reflecting on the creative ways their own parents doled out the corporal punishment.
"Ah, point taken, point taken!" Terry said as his chuckles ran out of steam. "But the wife and I decided it would be nice to at least ask and offer!"
That was not the reason why the homeowners were here, but their sleep-deprived tenants didn't know that.
"Anyway, we'll let you crazy kids enjoy your Sunday!" Toni bid them as she and Terry made their way back out.
But then her husband seemed to realize something. "...Wait. British guy, Southern guy… are you two both Protestants? Should I be worried?"
"Oh, for the love of God, Terry, this isn't the Fifties anymore!" Toni grumbled loudly as she grabbed Terry by the arm and dragged him out of the room.
"Hey, there's still prosecution against Catholics!" the Irish-American protested to his Hungarian-Canadian wife. "Kennedy would never've gotten elected if it wasn't for the mafia!"
The fox couple closed the door behind them and they were gone.
"...Welp," Johnny remarked, "I ain't gettin' back to sleep after all that excitement."
"Likewise," Robin sighed as he collapsed back onto the mattress. "Well… how'd you sleep in your new bed for real now that I wasn't colonizing it? Heh heh…"
"Still smells like fox farts, but your skinny asses were too light to leave any sorta dent in the mattress," the bear snickered right back. "So, we got any kinda plan for the day?"
The fox replied with a playful scoff. "Lad, you're just as capable of drawing up an itinerary as I am! You need not always consult with me!"
Johnny rolled his eyes; he knew Robin didn't mean it like that, but after last night, after the last few weeks' worth of nights, he didn't need to hear this guy treating his status as an equal like it was a humorous concept. "I know I can come up with something, sweetheart, but now that your girl's back in town, it feels like even if you don't veto whatever I come up with, it'd be shitty a' me not to make whatever we do revolve around you getting to see your vixen in some capacity."
Robin laughed through his nose again, but this time there was an air of embarrassment to it. "...I admit, I was hoping to spend the day with her-"
"So it wasn't my choice."
"No, no, you could come up with whatever you'd like and I'd conjure a safe way to involve her-"
Knock knock knock.
The homeowners didn't bother waiting for an answer this time, and the outlaws now realized they hadn't actually heard the door relock.
"By the way, guys," Terry said with a cordial but more serious tone than earlier, "not to tell a couple of adults how to live their lives, but… you met our son, right? We're trying to teach him to be a hard worker, he's at that age where he shouldn't be spending his summer vacation sleeping in and lazing around anymore."
"You're not obligated by any means to do this," added Toni, "but we'd really, really appreciate it if you guys could… y'know, be up and at 'em by this hour to show him that's what adults just do. He thinks we're just workaholics, so we'd like him to see firsthand that it's not just us."
"Well, hey," said Johnny, disagreeing as politely as he could, "those are good intentions and all, but… he's just a kid, ain't he? He's got time to grow up. Y'know what they say, only once in his life is he free."
The couple shared unimpressed looks.
"...Well, considering he's gonna turn fourteen in a month…" Toni pretended to ponder something she'd already made up her mind on. "...Yeah, we'd say his childhood's just about over."
"Fourteen was when I got my first job," said Terry. "...True, the midget-y little shit looks like he's seven, but he-"
"Terry, don't talk about our son that way!"
"Well, evidently we both carry the recessive gene after all, so that's a dig on us, too," the proud tod huffed before looking toward the only other tod who could make him feel insecure. "...Not that you can relate to that, eh, Stretch? Heh heh…"
Put on the spot, "Jack" used this as an opportunity to repay their young friend who'd given them a place to hang their hats. "I must say, though, Terry, I fully support inculcating the lad on the value of work ethic, but… does that necessarily mean he can't sleep in when he has a chance as long as he gets his work done? After all, why work harder when you could work smarter!"
Once again, the vulpine couple were unswayed.
"Y'know," said Terry, "that reeeeeally sounds like something our shitbag oldest would say before telling us he's a smarter worker than we are and that's why he didn't need us-"
"Terry. Terry." Toni put her arm around her husband to mellow him out. "They don't wanna hear about him. They don't need to hear about him."
"Oh, there's nothing more to say. Dumb kid thought he was so smart and now he's homeless in Zootopia pretending his family doesn't exist, end of story." He turned to face his tenants once more. "Which is why we don't want Eddy to turn out anything like his brother."
"Hard work is smart work," the vixen said with a firm nod and fake smile. "And on that note, Terry and I have to get ready for work ourselves. You two have a nice day - just don't be lazy where our son can see you."
They made their way out and once again didn't bother locking the door behind them. As they walked away, the Merry Men could swear they heard Toni chastising her husband:
"Oh, don't wear that look on your face, it was your idea to rent a room out to a couple of starving artists!"
"...The church thing was just an excuse to wake us up and make us act busy, wasn't it?" the bear wondered monotonically.
"I'm fairly certain," the fox answered just as flatly.
"...But yeah, back to you and Marian. Hey, I'm happy for you, bud, you've been waiting for this for years and I don't wanna tell you not to enjoy it, but…" He paused for a moment. "...I really don't wanna sound callous, Rob, but are you two just gonna be hanging out like lovebirds indefinitely, or is there a timetable for when you're ready to start prioritizing our work again?"
"Oh, no no no, Johnny!" Robin laughed. "Not indefinitely, we're both adults, she understands that I must focus on my work! At some point, she and I will both become accustomed to the idea that we're not a world apart anymore, and when we do, the thought of a day going by when we hardly see one another won't feel nearly as dreadful. When that day comes, I'll be ready to get back into the swing of things - and I'll be newly invigorated just as well!"
Johnny just had to raise an eyebrow at that. "Uhhh… any ETA there at… when I should expect such a day to roll around? Because, shit, like I said, I'm happy for ya and I don't wanna rush ya, but I can't help but feel we've burned enough daylight already-"
"Johnny, Johnny, I…!" He trailed off to shake his head downwards, chuckle to himself, and gather the words he wanted. "...Genuinely, as genuinely as I can say anything… I hope one day you'll be in a position to know what it's like. To never want to get tired of it. To love someone like an addict loves a drug. Sincerely, lad… you deserve it. I admit I got lucky, and it's not fair to you that you don't have what I have. I acknowledge that… and if I ever prayed - as our landlords now know we don't, heh heh - I'd pray you one day get to truly understand what it's like when I say, yes, I'm putting my life on hold for some mushy, gushy romance… but even knowing that, I still don't want to hit the unpause button! I want you to experience that firsthand one day, and soon."
Like most people whose names weren't Robert Edward Hood, Johnny didn't know what to do while someone was just showering them compliments and appreciation out of the blue. But after all the time spent around this fox, the bear could at least do more than sit there and blush. "Well… I'll say this much: I completely buy that you mean every word of that."
"Why, of course I do! I'm the guy who dedicated his life to giving money and hope to people who unfairly don't have enough of either!" A beat to let that sink in. "...Do you know how much it kills me that I can't give you what you unfairly don't have enough of?"
Now that Johnny was struggling to respond to earnestly. "...Man, where'd you learn to be so unnaturally giving?"
"Ah, blame me parents!" the Englishman laughed as he rolled over onto his side. "Hey, I know our experiment at the bar the other day didn't go so well, but if there's anything else I can do to help you in that regard-!"
"Rob, no, I-"
"Why no? Do you already have that spot reserved for a certain wooly woman we both know-!?"
"Oh, shut the fuck up!" the bear roared as he threw a pillow as violently as possible at his fox friend. "Leave her alone, dude, she was just as uncomfortable as I was last night!"
But Robin took the verbal and linen-al assault in stride. "I'm sure she wasn't as uncomfortable as you made her out to be, I'm sure that was just your nerves coloring your perception!" he chuckled.
"Naw," said Johnny, not even remotely amused, "we both felt like you were setting us up, so I made it clear that I wasn't into her and that I had no preconceptions that she was into me."
…The fox did not have a witty response to that. "...W-wait, did you… did you say that to her?" he asked as he sat up in bed.
"Pretty much," the bear shrugged. "Wanted to make sure she didn't think I was a danger to her."
Robin again did not quite know what to say, but he kind of didn't want to say anything. He felt like he needed to process that. Because… well, take the aforementioned non-event at the bar on Friday afternoon; Johnny's refusal to even try talking to women just came across as crippling shyness towards attractive females he'd become complacent with, but that was all it came across as. Take a few days before that when Robin tried to bond with him over hopes of having a family one day, and Johnny couldn't even fathom ever being lovable enough to be a husband and father; to Robin, that reeked of a borderline obnoxious lack of self-esteem, but that was it. But this comment that his friend had just made, that… that was the first thing he'd said that had Robin thinking that perhaps his friend really didn't have any intrinsic romantic intuition in his head. Modern Robin is embarrassed to admit this, but he tells me that, since he'd simply never had a reason to think about it before, this moment was the first time that he'd truly realized that some people just plain lack an innate understanding of these things like he himself had; he's even more embarrassed that he was so floored by this epiphany that he didn't know how to handle it graciously.
"...Why're you starin' at me like that?" the bear pressed the silent fox.
"...Johnny, you… you don't just point-blank tell a woman you don't find her attractive."
And Johnny, looking as offended as someone who felt they'd been incorrectly corrected, responded accordingly: "Dude, I just said, it was so she knew I wasn't hitting on her!"
"Well maybe she would have preferred that over you telling her she was unattractive-"
"Robin, are you fucking deaf!? I didn't say she was unattractive as a person, just that I didn't find her attra-!"
"Do you think those two things sound that different? If someone told you they didn't find you attractive, wouldn't you interpret that as them saying you weren't attractive as a person-!?"
"NO, because unlike with YOU, prettyboy, people not finding me attractive is the default! Just like with most people!"
"No, Johnny, most people would interpret that as you calling them ugly!"
"...Why would I assume that?"
"Because you're supposed to think about what other people might feel about what you say before you say it! But evidently you were more concerned about what would make you feel less awkward."
"Of course I was! Why would it occur to me to stop and extrapolate how she'd take it in ways I'd never in a million years think she'd take it?"
"Because…!" But then Robin stopped being angry and just came to feel disappointed. "...Because that's what socially adept people just do."
Johnny understandably didn't take that statement well, but decided keeping it calm would be a better way at getting back at his friend than aggression. "...I've always said that if it ain't something I can copy from seeing you or my brother do it, then I won't have a clue what I'm doing. I have always said that."
"...And I've always just believed you were simply being overly modest," the fox replied, sounding exhausted. "But… seems I was mistaken. I…" Now he looked annoyed with himself instead of his friend. "...I still want to help you with this, but if there's things you're… things that just occur to me that… that it doesn't occur to me don't occur to you, I don't know how much I can do."
The bear wasn't angry anymore. But he wasn't happy either. "...Don't remind me."
"For what it's worth, you're so good at pretending to be someone better than you feel yourself to be that… hrm… you do such a bang-up job of acting like you don't struggle with these things that even I don't always realize how much you do."
Johnny just shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Hey… I learned from two of the best. But… I know you didn't mean nothin' by this, but you're kinda confirming what I've been afraid of, that no matter how hard I try, I must be some kinda retarded where there's always gonna be a… ceiling to how good I can get."
"Bloody fucking hell, it did sound like I said that, didn't it?" the Englishman cursed himself as he collapsed back onto his pillow, arms thrown up as he did. "There, now I'm not thinking my words through before I say them, I'm not practicing what I preach…" He pulled the pillow over his eyes and growled; he'd thought he was better than this. "I'm sorry, Johnny, I'm just making everything worse-"
"Rob. Rob. Mellow out," the Southerner insisted, his large paws up for emphasis. "...Even when you're pissing me off, you still treat me better than most people in my life have. You're fine."
Robin turned to face his friend. "...Well, by the standards I hold myself to… I'd like to imagine I'd set a higher bar than that!" he chuckled.
The chuckle was infectious. "...Get over here," Johnny gestured as he laughed.
"Oh, now we're trying to make me feel better-!?"
"Get yer red ass over here and sit yer poofy-tailed ass down," the bear said more authoritatively.
The fox did as he was told and got out of bed, sitting down next to his friend who promptly put an arm around him and pulled him into his side. He reciprocated.
"You don't get to be a sad sack, Rob, that's my thing!"
"Well, maybe I'd like a turn!" Robin laughed before pausing, preparing to get real. "...I do hope you have someone of your own one day."
"Sir, you keep saying that, and I just might think you mean something by it!" Johnny laughed.
"Ehhh, perhaps when Marian realizes she is too good for a criminal!?"
"Oh, and I'm to believe that the guy who can get anybody he wants would choose me!? Am I your new charity project!? Ha ha!"
"Hey, maybe I'm a sucker for tall blokes built like a brick shithouse and it just never came up in conversation!"
"Man, I've called you brother one too many times, I might be a redneck, but I'm not into incest-!"
Knock knock knock.
"Oh, for the love of God, Terry!" the bear snapped. "Can we have some privacy!?"
But the door opened anyway, and when another red fox walked in, the duo had to lower their line of sight to see the kit staring at them with a blank stare that screamed I knew it.
"...You think we're gay, don't you?" asked Johnny.
"I, uh… trying not to think about it," was all Eddy mumbled.
"So, to what do we owe the pleasure, lad!?" Robin asked cheerily to change the subject as soon as possible.
"Oh, I just, uh…" The young tod trailed off boredly as he looked here and there around his former bedroom, already anticipating an unsatisfactory answer to his question. "Are we gonna get to actually do something today, or…?"
"...Or leave you kids behind again after ya all were so excited to join?" the bear hypothesized.
Eddy shrugged adolescently before pretending to examine his claws. "I mean, I wouldn't say excited, not like I'm pissing my pants at the idea, but I just thought you two might be cool guys to hang out with-"
"Lad, I know you're at that age where the only thing that's cool is to act like nothing is cool - as your mum felt so compelled to remind us just now," the Englishman chuckled, "...but if you give off the impression that you're not interested, it won't exactly compel us to include you -!"
"Okay, fine!" the teenage kit suddenly snapped. "I was tryin' not to sound too desperate - and I especially didn't wanna sound like some yappy little kid who doesn't understand he's cockblocking a guy tryna hook up with his vix - but yeah! I was hoping the two guys who everyone seems to think are cool badasses would let me hang out with them so that way whatever cologne you guys got on ya that makes everybody love you might rub off onto me and people might actually like me for once in my life!" He paused to address the older fox specifically. "And yeah, you gave us all that little lecture in the junkyard yesterday, all the ways to get people to like us, but when I bugged the shit outta my parents to give you guys a place to live, I was expecting more than just a bunch a' words!"
The Merry Men needed a moment to process that, not just the face value of the statement but the fact that something that seemed so obvious hadn't even crossed their minds.
"...Y'know," said Johnny, "I think in the back of my mind, I knew that there was a… that there was some reason you were bein' so ridiculously generous to us to… to get your parents to rent us a room, but-"
"-We're honestly so used to people offering us things and shelter as thank-yous, no-strings-attached, that it… just sort of felt like another case of that," the fox finished for his ursine friend. "I… well, I feel rather foolish for getting so excited by the idea of new shelter that I never stopped to think it may have been too good to be true-"
"Hey. Hey…" Eddy had his hands up to halt them. "I wasn't tryna manipulate you guys or anything. I just thought… fuck, people like these guys because they do nice things - or should I say good things, Mister Everybody Loves Rob-mond? - and who knows, maybe something cool would happen and living under the same roof as ya's would give me the chance to figure out what exactly it is that makes everyone gush over you."
Again, the duo took the appropriate time to reflect on every one of those words.
"...Alright, question," said Johnny.
"Shoot."
"Do you want to be like us be like us…?" the bear asked as he gestured towards himself and his fox friend. "...Or do you just want to be seen like we're seen?"
Robin reiterated it more simply: "Eddy, do you want to change who you are, or do you simply want what we have?"
The kit pinched the bridge of his nose as he triple-checked with himself that he wanted to come clean about this. "...I want the first one so I can get the second."
Rob and Johnny glanced at one another as they struggled with that one.
"...My first thought is that ain't exactly the right reasons to wanna join us," said the bear, "but… fuck, you're fourteen, what better could we expect? And shit, not like we're in any place to judge, God knows the appreciation is one of the biggest reasons we ain't quit yet."
"Johnny's right," admitted his fox partner. "Still as good a reason as any to seek out a righteous path; a good deed done for the right reasons may be better than the good deed done for selfish reasons, but both are still good deeds done."
"Hey, maybe with any luck maybe the generosity bug'll rub off on ya for real anyway!"
"And as much as there's virtue in not concerning yourself with others' opinions, at the same time… love, if nobody admires you, then you're not doing enough right!"
"Oh, of course you'd think that, Mister Fuckin' Hollywood!" Johnny laughed with a playful shove.
"Hey, when you're public figures like we are, you'd be mad to not care about people's opinions of you!" Robin chuckled back.
"Like a certain public figure we know with the same first name as me who could seriously stand to care more about the fact that everyone hates him," the bear snickered as they turned back to their landlords' son. "And honestly, kid, you make a good point, getting you more involved is the least we can do after all you've done for us."
"And after you and Ed were such good sports about being on the sidelines yesterday," added the fox, "we can make a point to involve you more today, absolutely!"
Eddy didn't enjoy hearing that statement as much as he should have; he wasn't going to say this out loud, but that 'if nobody admires you, you're not doing enough' line, it… well, screw it, that just about confirmed his anxieties about everyone in the neighborhood hating him being entirely his fault. But he wasn't gonna show it. He wasn't gonna be a little bitch in front of these badasses. So he was a loser in the past; so what? They were offering him an opportunity to be better, to be like them, to be loved and lovable like them, and that's all that mattered now. No use stressing over the idea that all the alienation and ass-beatings were deserved after he was tainted by his father, his mother, and a brother who Eddy felt too disgusted to even think the name of.
"Uh- cool! Um… so, uh, wh-what exactly did you guys have in mind? Uhhh, are we gonna break into houses, or rob a bank, or-?"
"Wait a minute, what?"
"Jesus fuckin' Christ, kid, no!"
"You want to rob a bank with us!?"
"We're not gonna endanger you like that!"
"Are you mad!?"
"Do you even think you're ready to do that!?"
"Should Johnny and I be concerned by your wayward disregard for your own safety!?"
"Are you tryin' to actually die!?"
Eddy was more offended than anything. "What, you don't think I can handle it?"
"NO!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Why not, dare I ask?"
"Because you're a KID!" The bear was hitting high notes you wouldn't think him capable of.
"I'm basically fourteen already!"
"Yes, and that makes you still a child," Robin said a tad sternly, "regardless of what your parents say. And even if youth was no hindrance, you are nowhere near properly trained for the big missions."
"We trained the other day!"
"Yeah, once!" Johnny roared. "If one lesson made you an expert, I'd be given' Rob a run for his money right about now! And at any point in your cadet ride-alongs did you get the impression that we rob banks!? They're too obvious, dude! We can count on one or two hands the number of banks we've hit because… because fuck, it'd be such a hack move, they'd actually be expecting it!"
"It would be the one spot the authorities don't have a weakness," added the fox, "one of the few situations where we have damn good reason to believe we'd be outmatched. We rob smart, not hard. We know our limits."
The kit wanted to call into question the badassery of these bandits if they were afraid to plunder a bank, but he had a more pressing question:
"Then what are you gonna let us do!? We wanna do more than just stand around and watch you chit-chat with people while I'm dressed like a fucking toddler!"
"But lad, that's perhaps the lowest-risk, highest-reward scheme we've come up with!" Robin tried to reason with him. "And I know it kills you to hear this, but truly, Eddy, being able to pass for somebody that young and elicit sympathy that easily? Eddy, that is invaluable in our line of work!"
The kit just crossed his arms and sizzled; he could just about imagine his big brother having a similar thought and exploiting Eddy for financial fortune, though towards a much less eleemosynary end. "You two really think I'm such a fucking midget that I can pass for an actual baby!?"
"Uh, if you're tryna pass for this garden-weed son of a bitch's son, then yes, you can!" Johnny said as he gestured to his lanky limey friend before addressing said tod directly. "How old were you when you were his size? What, three? Two?"
"Errr…" Said garden weed really wished his friend hadn't said that, not just for the sake of their host who was clearly being eaten alive by his body dysmorphia, but also because… well, when you frame it like his bear friend did, now that was a statement that could actually make Robin feel like a wee bit of a freakshow. It was a rare moment of the famously suave Englishman being unconcealably and irrevocably nervous and awkward, and for both of foxes' sakes, he wasn't gonna say no, Johnny was actually still aiming a bit too high. "I, er… oh, pah, I was too young to remember!"
And for as constipated as Robin looked, Eddy looked like he'd shit his britches upon hearing that, and it was so transparent that the elder fox immediately realized that in his anxiety, he'd managed to say something worse.
"Oh, oh, but lad, please, don't compare yourself to me, like Johnny says, I'm a garden weed-!"
"Jesus Christ, I know you told my dad you were his size when you were seven, but I thought you were fucking with him!" The small kit gestured to the big bear. "Goddamn, were you supposed to be his size but the doctors took a tumor out of your brain-!?"
"Eddy. Eddy. Calm down," Robin pleaded as calmly as he could. "Seriously, lad, I implore you, don't be jealous of me for that. Being a child that size wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, I was on hopped up on painkillers for many of those years for that exact reason - and bloody hell, it was a liability during hide-and-seek! Heh heh…" A beat passed as he let that sink in before changing the subject. "But because you are still a child… don't you think for a second that we're going to march a young life out there with hardly a clue as to what he's doing and then act surprised when it doesn't end well for them… we're not making that mistake again."
He wasn't just talking about Skippy. God, to Robin, agonizing over his physical resemblance to The Tall Man was still preferable to reminding himself of what became of The Tall Man's preferred son, but if that's what he had to invoke to get his point across, he would force himself to suck it up and tough it out. But that was still a tougher task than usual; there was already one young vulpine man who would never return home again as a direct consequence of his proximity to Robin, and it wrenched his heart to look at what might become another one if he wasn't careful.
Note that upon hearing the fox say this, the bear put an arm around his friend's shoulders and gave him a few firm pats, understanding it wasn't just the bunny boy to whom Robin referred. They were only two days out from the anniversary at this point; Will was in the front of both of their minds. Johnny knew - at least as much as Robin allowed him or anybody else to know.
And actually, Eddy also had a funny feeling that the older tod was referring to at least two separate lives he'd inadvertently ruined; they hadn't given the boys too much information, but he recalled them vaguely alluding to a deceased half-brother and an incarcerated lapine lad. But his understanding was that the brother's passing was a suicide and therefore completely unrelated to the danger of their exploits, and that the kid in jail was a rabbit, which reminded Eddy of Jimmy, and because fuck Jimmy, Eddy didn't care.
"Alright, this is twice now you guys've said ya don't think I'm ready for this shit," he noted, "...so why not at least train us more!?"
The guys didn't have much reason to protest that.
"...M'kay, so now that's a much more reasonable request," said the bear.
"I think we can accommodate that!" added his fox friend. "And as much as I think we ought to replenish our accounts, after a night like last night, I believe we'd do well to have an easy Sunday."
This, of course, was the first their host had heard of any sort of craziness occurring the evening prior. "What happened last night?"
The Merry Men shared a glance as they weighed what they should and should not share with him.
"Oh, just a giant brawl that ended with a restaurant going up in flames!" Robin answered nonchalantly. "I nearly died, but hey, comes with the territory!"
Johnny was making a strange gesture, waving his paw downward over his nose. "Ya ever see a guy's face slide off his… uh… his face?"
The kit looked downright haunted; after a moment, he began stepping backwards towards the door. "Oookay, then, uh… I-I'm gonna go eat breakfast now." And off he went, not caring to close the door behind him.
"...A'right, get outta my bed," said the bear as he picked up the fox and threw him across the room into his own bed, Johnny reclining again once he saw that Robin landed safely on his mattress with a satisfying squeak of the springs. "Time to hit the snooze button."
"Aaargh, but I landed on my bad arm!" Robin cried comically in exaggerated distress - but still a little distress. "I need more of the painkillers for the aggravated… er… aggravation!"
"Aw, will you quit yer whinin'!?" Johnny scoffed, also only half-joking, as he dug under his pillow for the Ziploc bag of diced megafauna Tylenols and opened it, extracting one. "Here, catch."
When he tossed the segmented pill across the bedroom, his friend's vulpine instincts must have kicked in. Robin leapt from all fours (or more like all three-and-a-halfs) and caught the medicine in his mouth, landing on the floor on his backside, play-snarling as he thrashed his head back and forth and wagged his tail like a wily kit at play.
"Jeez, did your hunger for drugs awaken the animal in you or are you just that much of a performer!?" the bear chuckled.
Robin swallowed and sat up. "I don't see how those two things are mutually exclusive, lad!" He got back into bed and got comfy, wrapping his arms around his pillow and going limp as though he'd passed out immediately despite still being fully alert.
"Those pills gonna make you high and start making out with your tail like it's Marian again?" Johnny snickered. "Shit, where did that Polaroid go…?"
"Johnny, go to sleep."
"Hmph, don'tcha think I would if I could?"
And he couldn't. He was staring at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head, reviewing their conversation telling Eddy that no, they weren't gonna send a kid out there to certain death. He had to wonder even granting the boys a few training sessions was still letting them get too close for comfort - at least after an epiphany he'd had talking with the sheep the night before.
"...Hey, Rob?" he asked the room. "By the way… don't do anything to get these kids hurt, alright? Or you better believe I'm gonna hurt you."
That warranted opening his eyes all the way and propping himself up on his elbows. "I beg your pardon? Johnny, did you just space out during that long conversation we just had where I said I'd refuse to put a lad his age in any tangible danger?"
"Oh, I'm not sayin' you would do that intentionally, but, just-"
"As if after seven years, we can't see such a situation coming and avoid it if we so choose?"
The bear turned to glare at him, then threw his paws up. "We're still mortal, ain't we?"
The fox forced a faint chuckle of concession. "That we are… that we are.. " He lifted his comforter and rolled over. "Much to my eternal chagrin."
Johnny rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling again. "Lemme put it this way… let's not put them in any situations that… that they can't get themselves OUT of, does that sound alright?"
"Once again," Robin said to the wall, "that sounds like a longer way of saying don't put them in mortal harm's way, which I already-"
"No," the bear said sharply, "I meant 'a situation they can't get themselves out of' like we put ourselves in."
Robin sat up and looked at him.
"...in life." Johnny sat up himself. "You pickin' up what I'm puttin' down?"
"...I am," the fox said soberly, "and I'll grant that, absolutely, let's be diligent not to get them too involved past the point of no return. That said…" He put upon his face a smile that looked like it was a thousand years old, and raised a finger wisely. "...with the right mind and the right mindset, you can find a way out of any unsavory situation." And with that, he rolled back over and attempted once more to resume slumber.
"...Yeah, ONE way…" the bear muttered darkly in reply, so quietly Robin didn't even notice. Surely that wasn't what his friend was thinking when he said that, but Johnny was still convinced that the Englishman's subconscious mind surely must have known; that crafty fox was just too smart for him not to know one way or another. But for all this talk about intelligent vulpines, the ursid was struck by a notion that ensured he would not get back to sleep that morning. As he lay there listening to the hum of the the air conditioner and the mumble of the television in a faraway room, Johnny found himself debating whether the member of their former quintet whom he'd always regarded as truly the smartest had been following a similar line of logic that death was the only way out of the hole they'd dug for themselves.
