Chapter 17: Differences of Opinion
Count was grinning as he went about adjusting the passenger seat of the cop car. "Hey, I never got to sit on this side of the divider before! Hey, Trigger, think you can go full on lights and sirens?"
"Don't ask me, Count," Trigger replied, busy with adjusting the driver's seat to his size. "I'm just the driver seat."
The deer pilot was about to do just that when he stopped, his grin instantly vanishing, replacing instead with a furled nose of disgust as he sniffed the air. "Trigger..." he warned coldly.
"Don't look at me like that, Count," the other pilot calmly replied, turning the key on the ignition and starting the car to life. As soon as the motor rumbled to life, he instantly reached over for the fan controls and turned on the air flow to full blast, ears lowering in annoyance at the noise. "Just shut up and try to ignore it," he added as an afterthought.
With an angry snarl, Count turned to look behind them. "You sure it wasn't you, Trigger?" he asked sarcastically, "'Cause I doubt it was one of the cops, considering they were all just outside with us, and..." he froze, eyes locking onto the nervous form of James, busy pretending to ignore him while staring out the back window. Taking a few more quick sniffs of the air, he turned back to stare out the windshield in disgust, arms crossed. "Nice dude," he grumbled, "way to go! Well do-"
"Count!" As he hissed at his fellow pilot, Trigger reached across the center console to block Judy from springing forwards to strangle Count to death. "First of all, if you're going to complain, I really don't need to hear it," Trigger hissed, disdain at the other pilot's behavior evident in his voice. "And second-" He turned around to glance at Judy. "So uh, where exactly do I need to drive to get back?" he grinned sheepishly, noticeably trying hard not to look over at Wolford's direction.
Judy was ready with her phone before he even finished asking the question. "Here you are," she handed over the device, map on and displaying the directions on where to go. "Just follow the map."
"Thanks," Taking the phone, Trigger gave it over to Count to hold. But just as he was about to set the car into gear to drive off, he hesitated. "Uhh, anyone know that lady walking over to us?" He pointed out the windshield, where sure enough, the same event organizer, Foster, from the morning was making her way towards their car. And, to make sure that non of them were going to mistake her intentions, she was waved at them as she came closer.
In the back seat, Wolford groaned and tried to shrink into his seat. "Great, what does she want now?" he complained.
"James, quiet," Fangmeyer whispered back at him. "Hopefully not much and we'll leave soon." He simply huffed back in reply.
"I'll talk to her," Judy announced, unstrapping her seatbelt. "Trigger, lower the window."
Trigger quickly adjusted the his shirt to try and hide the tame collar around his neck as he complied and lowered the window, wincing in discomfort as Judy clambered over his legs to poke her head out and wave back at the deer.
Foster stopped next to the car, grinning at Judy and tilting her head to look at the other occupants of the car. "Afternoon officers!" She gave another little wave upon recognizing Dahlia and James in the back.
Judy returned the grin. "Afternoon miss..." her grin turned sheepish. "Sorry, I'm afraid I forgot your name."
The deer waved a hoof dismissively. "Foster, but it doesn't matter," she answered quickly. "Just I couldn't help but notice that it appears that you are all ready to leave," she said. "I did see you patrol around us several times, and I really wished that you would have been able to join in more than you have, but we aren't going to conclude the event until another several hours," she explained. "And I do believe the paperwork we filed asked for police presence for the entire time. Just to stress, we don't expect anything bad to happen, but you never know with these things." she shrugged, even looking slightly ashamed. "At times like these, you can never tell."
"I'm afraid we were called back to the station," Judy explained, her tone formal but apologetic. "Officers Andersen and Snarlov are in the second car just there," she pointed at the other cop car, "they are taking over patrolling the event for us."
Foster looked disappointed at the news. "Any word on if Jones will be here today? We were really hoping to see him today..."
"Yeah, he's on his way," Judy glanced back in surprise when it was Count that answered. "Ask the two cops in the other car for clarification, but when we were driving over he messaged that he can make it in an hour or so."
"Great!" The organizer started at Count with a curious expression, causing him to stare back at her in some sort of battle of wills.
Glancing between the two, Judy saw that he had also hidden his collar like Trigger had, so she doubted that Foster somehow spotted the rather tiny hint of a bulge at the back oh his shirt. Then, out of nowhere, Foster smiled and started to speak in some strange language.
Count slowly blinked back at her, then suddenly returned the smile, answering back in the very same language. The two continued to exchange words until Count said something while motioning at Trigger's direction.
"-Wait, a coyote as well?" Foster asked, reverting to English, beaming even brighter. "Even in this city, I'm afraid there aren't enough of you around. Day's getting better and better!" As though only noticing Trigger now, she looked over him, nodding and humming to herself as she studied him. Under her watchful gaze, he stared back nervously, unsure how to react to her. Then, just as suddenly as with Count, she started to talk to Trigger in a new language as well. Whether it was the same one as with Count or not, it was hard to tell with how quickly she was vocalizing. What was not mistakable was the confused expression on his face as her words went past his ears without any hint of comprehension.
"Uhh miss-" he interrupted her, tilting his head and lowering his ears to emphasize his confusion. "I have no idea what you are saying. Like, at all."
She paused in her speech, blinking at him as though unable to recognize the fact that he wasn't able to understand her. "But you're a coyote," she countered with some hesitation, to which he nodded in agreement. "Th- that's your language!" she explained, struggling to comprehend that he was unable to understand her. "How can you not understand the language of your species?" She spread her arms wide. "And it's far more than just a language. It's your heritage! Your own unique culture! You can't let such a thing slip away!" She stopped, pointed a finger at him, and tapped on the car door. "You wait right here!" she commanded excitedly. "Stay here while I get something! I-I'll be right back!" Sure enough, she turned and bolted back in the direction of the event.
With her gone and sprinting away from the car, Trigger let out a long sigh and slumped back in his seat. "Creepy lady," he breathed out, nudging Judy to let her know that she can get off him.
Next to him, Count chuckled. "Why? I rather like her," he said, "don't run often into someone else that can speak Nejan. You know, the old deer language? Doesn't matter. Anyways, I don't know how she figured right away that I could speak it too. Lucky guess on her part I reckon."
"What did she tell you anyways?" Trigger asked, tapping his paws on the steering wheel. "You know, we really should go. Drive back to the station and all."
"Running away, eh, Trigger?" Count asked, grinning smugly. "She only made some small talk with me. As for driving away, that would be very rude of you," he commented. "Better wait for her to come back."
"That's not up to me to decide," Trigger argued back. "Wolford? You need us to go?"
From the back, James was also able to find the humor in the situation. "I'm in a rush, but not that much in a rush to get back," he explained with a chuckle. "It's rather funny watching you squirm like a school kid who just flunked a test. And as for me, worst part is already over. Uhh, I hope." He glanced at Judy and Dahlia nervously. "So if anyone here doesn't object, Count is correct in that it would be very rude of you to just up and leave. So what I'm saying is, while I really won't mind if you go, don't go using me as the reason for fleeing."
"It's not fleeing!" Trigger protested, clearly exacerbated. The others in the car laughed at his complaint, Count elbowing him in the ribs. "It's just… it's embarrassing!" he complained glaring at the other pilot and rubbing his side. Still grinning, Count shrugged and motioned at Trigger's collar shirt bulge as a warning. "The way she looked at me?" Trigger continued, ignoring Count's behavior, "It's well… Excuse me for not realizing that I was supposed to I don't know… be born knowing how to speak in whatever she was babbling on about. And it's not like-" he froze, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "You know what? Just forget about it."
"Don't worry, Strikes, we won't think any less of you for that," Nick reassured him, wide grin plastered on his muzzle. It only widened when Judy threw at him a very disapproving look.
"What Nick is really saying is that we are not judging you on what languages you can or can't speak, even if it's one that supposed to be important to coyotes," she clarified with a stern voice, eyes locked with his. "Isn't that right, Nick?"
Nick winked back at her. "Sure thing, fluff!"
In the front of the car, Trigger just let out a sigh. "What part of 'just forger about it' did not make sense?" He made a small groan of displeasure after glancing out the window. "Never mind, she's coming back already."
Sure enough, in a matter of moments, the deer was back and quickly shoved a small stack of papers and books through the window towards him. "Just some basic information, and I was even able to get a basic dictionary for you," she explained flipping through the items. "Are you sure you really need to be going?" she asked, eagerness creeping back into her voice. "It would be really great if you can join us here, even for a little while." Her eyes darted over to Nick before settling back at Trigger. "Everyone know about the stereotypes foxes have to deal with, but far fewer realize that coyotes have to deal with much of the same issues."
"I am more than well aware of that," Trigger replied sternly, taking the book and papers, "and while I don't want to come off as rude, but we really do need to get going."
She looked disappointed at his words, but not hurt by them. "All right, all right, I'll let you go." She tapped the papers. "But do read over these, please. And I've written my professional contact info on them, if you will ever want to ask some more questions about anything on here." Finally stepping back away from the window, she waved at the occupants. "Thank you for your help today, officers!" Trigger waved back hardheartedly and started to close the window, stopping only when she darted back towards it. "Wait, I don't think I've gotten your names!"
"Greg, that's Forge," Count quickly answered for the two of them, leaning past a frozen Trigger, waving goodbye to her himself. "Nice meeting you, miss!" He smiled out at her, only relenting when the window finally closed. Letting out a sigh of relief, he leaned back into his seat. "Okay, you might have a point about her," he muttered to Trigger. When he didn't get any reply, he glanced over and sighed again. "Trigger, breath! You're going to buzz yourself. Gee, what's up with you, anyways?"
"-I'm fine!" Trigger answered back sternly, causing Count to chuckle.
"Uh uh," he answered with his own smirk, "and that orange glow under your shirt is from the sun on it, I know. Huh, didn't think she would get to you like that."
"Count? Please… just shut up for a moment."
"Boys! Calm down." From the back, Judy held her breath, hoping that their driver wasn't about to loose his cool have his collar put him out of commission before they even set off. Where she sat on Dahlia and between Nick and Wolford, she had the best view of the two pilots in the front seats out of the officers. To her relief, after only a short while of staring out the window, Trigger's collar switched back to a gentle green. With a slight jolt, he shifted into gear and they were off, driving back to the station. The part of her mind that wondered what a pilot drove like was answered when she discovered that Trigger… was not too confident of a driver. Observing his driving, his two paws held tightly on the steering wheel, every movement calculated and deliberate, with their speed often hovering lower than the speed limit. Or the rest of the traffic around them, for that matter, which ignored the cop car as the cars around them passed on both sides in their rush to get on with the day. What it did mean though, was that the ride was quite smooth, so Judy didn't try to correct Trigger's driving.
As for herself, Judy tried to get comfortable while trying to squeeze in between Nick and Dahlia, but she had to admit that this arrangement was less than ideal. Her shuffling about trying to get comfortable must have drawn Count's attention, for he turned around again to look at the officers at the back.
"So the hell happened to you anyways?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be like… resting at home or something? You know, instead of working?" Taking another whiff in Wolford's direction, he turned back with a disgusted expression.
"Hey, Count, take Trigger's advice and shut up," James grumbled back. His scowl softened when he felt Fangmeyer squeeze his paw, but his anger didn't fully go away as he huffed and pressed his muzzle against the door glass, staring outside.
Trigger too joined in with the scolding of the other pilot. "Ever tried not antagonizing everyone you meet, Count?" he asked. "Might turn out well for you."
Despite being on the receiving end of the words, Count chuckled again. "Antagonize? You're one to talk, you've got the highest kill count in the entire squad!"
"That's different and you kn-"
"And besides," Count continued, ignoring Trigger's argument, "I thought this was all very familiar to you. In fact, doesn't this remind you of four-four-four?"
"I- I have no idea what you're talking about," Trigger replied. Despite forcing himself to sound calm, there was a noticeable strain in his voice.
Judy glanced at Nick quickly before looking back at Count and Trigger, wondering where this latest conversation was going.
"Don't think I didn't catch you still over-inspecting all the food you're given," Count said with a smirk. "Also, you really are a terrible liar."
"I stopped doing that a while ago," Trigger mumbled almost to himself. "Can we switch to something else? I'm driving here."
"What? Now you want to tell me that talking about some harmless talk is going to cause you to buzz yourself?" Count teased, "Wolford back there didn't cause any issues so far. Why start now?"
At being mentioned, James groaned in frustration at the back. "Leave me out of this, will you?" His patience was wearing thin with the two pilots' bickering, but especially with Count in particular. "Chief Bogo had his reasons for keeping us busy today, which we all agreed to. None of us expected this to happen. So I would highly appreciate it if you mind your own business!"
Nick grinned as he leaned over to look at the other officer. "Wolfy, between you and me, but if Buffalo Butt didn't sign my paycheck, I wouldn't mind hurting him for forcing us to work today." Judy again punched him in the arm, earning a yelp from him as he glared back at her. "What?" He hissed, rubbing the sore spot. "Only a little bit! Maybe." The grin still on his muzzle betrayed the fact that he wasn't actually mad at her.
"You can't say things like that Nick," Judy scolded, "even if you are recovering. You don't see James voicing the same opinion, do you?"
"Actually Hopps, just because I didn't say anything doesn't mean I don't agree with Wilde," James corrected her. "Well okay, maybe I'm not mad at Bogo, because he also didn't have any idea that this would happen. But I do want to feel mad about someone! Or something, still deciding between the two. What I'm saying is that I wouldn't mind pounding on something to feel better." He huffed in annoyance. "And you, Count? Why bring this up at all? Don't you have anything better to talk about?"
"Hey, just reminding Trigger of some good times back when we flew," Count replied back. "Don't get me wrong, not being shot at is great an all, but pilots like us gotta spread our wings. Going underground like we did today is the complete opposite."
Trigger grunted in agreement. "Yeah… Actually, just a couple of days back I was dreaming that I was flying," he said with a longing tone. "Not fighting or anything. Just me, the plane, the sky and the clouds." There was a short pause. "Strange thing was that I knew right away that I was dreaming because I immediately recognized that the cockpit I was in was that of an F-15. Which is weird because I've never even been inside one of those. Anyways, flying then was far better than what Count here considers 'good times'."
The other pilot snorted. "Aww, don't be like that, Trigger. Hate on McDicksey all you want, but he's rather harmless once you get up in the air."
"Well actually..." Trigger began with uncertainty in his voice.
Count glanced over just in time to notice Trigger's collar turn yellow and even briefly flash red beneath the shirt. Good thing they were waiting at a red light. "No..." he gasped in mock horror. "No way! He made you fly? While sick?"
"...Yes."
Even without seeing his face, just from his tone alone, Judy could easily imagine Trigger's embarrassed and ashamed expression. Out of the corner of her vision, she could see the other officers next to her also staring towards the front of the car with renewed interest.
"That son of a bitch!" Count swore loudly, "I know he's a terrible commander, but this? He really doesn't… he can't do that! That's exactly how pilots get killed!" He grunted in discomfort as his own collar turned red and let out a jolt. "Trigger, you've got to be pulling my leg! There's no way you would have been authorized to fly by the medical staff! And did Bandog know? Why didn't he send you immediately back?"
"The doctors insisted that I be grounded," Trigger answered bitterly. "But they were overridden by Guess Who. McKinsey claimed I was 'vital for the mission' and other nonsense like that. And so, I had to go up. Insisted that I was faking it anyways, so it's not like I had anything to really complain about, or so he said. And Bandog? He wasn't allowed to let me leave the AO no matter what." He glanced to the side at Count. "And I think it's my turn to ask you... you okay there? I didn't think you buzz yourself like that, ever."
"Vital for the mission?" Count repeated in disbelief. "My fluffy white tail! Which one was it anyways?"
"It was Operation Th-" Trigger's voice cut off suddenly in a nervous hitch. "It was the one with all the sand," he explained carefully with a second attempt. "The one that turned into hide and seek."
"Yeah, right, that one, I remember," Count muttered under his breath before swearing loudly again. "Wait, that one? The hell we needed you there for? It was a bloody milk run! I know McDicksey is terrible, but that's low even for him. Sure, he's careless with our lives, but sending out anyone else like he did with you? That's suicide!" He grunted when his collar went off again. "Is this stupid thing broken?" he demanded angrily, tugging at it away from his neck. "Anyways, I did wonder why you were being even quieter than usual. How was it that one of the guys described you? Just 'quietly plugging away'?"
Trigger snorted in mild amusement. "It was hard enough concentration on the mission without talking to you lot," he said. "It's not like I join in with the chatter on a regular day anyways. But yeah, that mission was very simple, so I got lucky there I guess. Good thing that drones are useless in bad weather, right Count?"
Count visibly tensed. "If you're implying that I was responsible for luring them in, I told you, I was just following the objective when they arrived. It wasn't me!"
"I didn't say it was you," Trigger said calmly, then if his silence was anything to go by, let the matter slide.
Feeling guilty, Judy pulled out her notepad and pencil, quickly jotting down notes on what she just heard. Even after all of the time that the pilots were with them, Bogo still insisted that they record any information that can be used to find out Count's and Trigger's real identities. But a lot of her was still simply curious as to exactly what happened back at their squadron. In many ways, the more she learned, the more she understood why neither Count nor Trigger acted too much like she would expect a pair of combat pilots to be like. A poke at her side caused her to look at Nick.
He shook his head at her pad, then tapped his head instead. She nodded in understanding.
"So let me get this straight," Judy then spoke up, putting the notepad away. "If you don't mind, but unless I'm mistaken, you were sick, and yet you were still forced to gout and fly a combat mission?"
There was another long sigh from Trigger. "That is what I said, wasn't it?" he confirmed. "No, well, the worse was landing at base after the mission was completed. Scrap Queen came over to inspect the state of the plane and well, uh, she..." his ears fell to the side of his head. "Let's just say that she wasn't excited to see the state I came back in. Took one look at me, turned around, and came back with the largest and most powerful water hose she could find."
The other pilot chuckled. "That must have been something. Shame I missed it," he commented, voice veering away as he delved deeper into his own memories of the event. "Say, I don't remember you at the debrief," he commented after a short while, "were you all right after landing? Now that I think about it, I don't remember seeing you at all until the briefing for the next mission, Trigger. Was it that bad?"
"No, that wasn't it," Trigger answered again with a tense voice. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and the collar around his neck let off a beep of warning.
"Trigger, you're driving. Please be careful," Judy warned, worried that a sudden jolt can cause him to fling the wheel to the side.
"I'm fine, Judy, don't worry about me," the pilot snapped back. But despite the anger in his voice, his collar somehow didn't go off, giving him precious time to cool off. "Well, it's just that after Scrap Queen finished cleaning both me and Laika off, the regular debrief had already ended and McKinsey came over to personally see why I hadn't showed up to it. He wasn't quite able to claim that I was faking illness when even Scrap Queen started to defend my absence, but well, you know how he is. Dismissed the entire thing as nothing more than a mission accomplished and how much the results were going to make him look good to the top brass."
"Yup, that's McDicksey all right!" Count said. "But that still doesn't explain you vanishing from base."
"I was getting to that," Trigger said with an annoyed huff. "So yeah, as I was saying, here I was, soaking wet, tired like you won't believe, and most of all, just plain pissed off. So when McKinsey told me that for the debrief there was nothing to report and shrugged me off? I lost it! Got a good punch in before Scrap Queen forced me away. And you know his idea of discipline, Count, so that's why you didn't see me around until the next mission."
Count sniggered. "You whacked him? Nice! Should have let me have a go as well, would have been totally worth it in my opinion." He turned towards Trigger again. "Say, with your punch, where did you get him?"
Trigger grinned back. "Right in the chin. Bastard never saw it coming."
"Ha! That's my coyote!" Count praised. "Great going! Though I guess you didn't quite him him hard enough, unfortunately. Damn shame."
Judy frowned, crossing her arms in disapproval. "No, not great going, Count!" she scolded. "You shouldn't be fighting with your superiors, Trigger, either one of you. And Count, you shouldn't be encouraging him!" She could already start imagining Bogo's reaction when he will find out about this – he especially always had his doubts about the pilots, especially Trigger, so to learn that they they respect their own commander so little as to get into a fight with him? Bogo will have a fit, that's for sure.
"Drop it, Judy," Trigger warned from the driver's seat. As yet another traffic light in front of them turned green, the car and all of its occupants lurched as he just about floored the gas pedal. "Not like you can do anything about it now."
"But!.." Judy was not going to simply drop the matter, even as she felt Nick grip her arm to prevent her from vaulting across the car to get right up to the two pilot's muzzles. "But what about unit cohesion? She asked. "Discipline? There needs to be respect between the group leader and those under them! So when it comes to the two of you, the first thing you can start doing is to not take pleasure in one of you hurting the base commander! I don't care how much he deserved or didn't deserve it! Two trained and highly educated pilots acting like beating someone up is a game? Well it's not! It's wrong!"
"I don't-" Trigger's argument stopped dead in its tracks before he even started it. He let out his breath slowly but forcefully, concentrating on driving the car instead. "Count? Deal with her if you want, but I'm done."
Count turned around so that he could glare at the bunny. The act moved his shirt away from the collar, exposing the orange warning light on it. Judy's ears lowered as her anger at the two tempered. She realized that pushing them in this argument was far worse for them than it was for her. But still, her pride was willing to just let this slide. She had just stumbled upon a darker side in the two of them, and it was one she was determined to fix. But it didn't erase the sickening feeling that she was the one who was most responsible for completely killing the mood in the car and turning the air completely sour for everyone in it.
"Hopps," Count spoke slowly but firmly, taking care in his words. "No, not just you, but all three of you. Simple question: Since Trigger and I've been living in the station long enough to know that jokes at Bogo's expense are tossed around like candy when he's not around, I am going to ask you a simple question. Do you respect Bogo? Trust him to look out for your best interest when he sends you out?" His eyes glanced between Nick and James. "Like today? Yesterday you got exposed to a poisonous substance, and today you're paying the price for it. Trigger and I had to wear full hazmat suits today when we were below. All of us had to, which is something I doubt the four of you got to wear yesterday. So when Bogo sent you to work today, easy assignment or not, it didn't exactly end up all right. So I want to know your honest opinion: Did Bogo have you work today because he thought it was the best, or because he couldn't care a rat's ass about it? And hey, what's the big deal if an officer goes viral online over their body's reaction to medication?" His eyes locked with a defiant Wolford's, Count hissed out his closing question. "So I ask: Do you trust Chief Bogo?"
Instantly, the three officers gave their answer:
"Yes!"
Count nodded, turning back around to face the front again. "Okay, good," he said simply. "That's good. Wish I could say the same thing about Colonel McKinsey. What about you, Trigger?"
"...Huh?" Despite being so involved in the conversation-argument just moments ago, he evidently somehow completely lost track of what was going on.
Count grunted as he glanced over at Trigger. "I was asking-" he stopped, eyes narrowing to get a better look at the other pilot. "Trigger, I'm serious here, what's wrong with you?"
"N-Nothing!" Trigger stammered. He checked the map on the phone quickly. "We're almost there. Just another couple of blocks."
"Don't try stalling on me," Count said with a fresh smirk. "I'm a pilot like you, I can see it from kilometers away." His smirk faded. "It's about yesterday evening, isn't it?"
Trigger winced as his collar crackled lightly against his neck, then nodded slowly. "Yeah," he admitted, "but not only. It's also the drone underground. And talking about four-four-four, everything..." He rubbed his neck nervously, pulling at the collar before it can go off on him again. "Was remembering a lot of really messed up things I thought I was able to forget," he admitted. "Guess it was much harder than I thought." He let out a small grin as Count reached over and shook him by the shoulder gently.
Pulling at the collar again, it gave away into his paw. "-What the..?" he stared at it in confusion for a second.
"We're here, Trigger," Fangmeyer clarified for him. In her own paws was the controller for the collars, and the content sigh from Count confirmed that his own collar also let go. She smiled warmly back at him when he turned around to see who was responsible, a gesture that he, oddly for him, returned with a genuine enthusiasm.
"We're- oh, right, sorry." the car lurched as Trigger slammed the breaks a little too hard to make the final turn into the ZPD parking lot. The car behind them honked loudly in anger at them, rather ironically since they were in a cop car. He drove around the side and to the back, slowing down even more as they dropped down into the underground motor pool. Rather reflective of his driving, Trigger looked quite anxious as he parked the car, eyes darting rapidly between the two cruisers he pulled in between, only turning into a grateful relaxation when he switched the gears to park and killed the engine.
Climbing over the center console, Judy took her phone back, checking it since she couldn't see anyone else in the parking garage. Sure enough, Bogo left a few instructional messages. "James, take a shower, get cleaned up, then head down to get checked by Doctor Honey," she instructed. "Nick, you also need to go down there. Dahlia? You and I are to report to Bogo in his office. Count, Trigger? Doesn't say anything for you two. Think you're free for now." While she knew better than to expect anything else from the instructions, she still felt a pang of disappointment. She really wanted to talk to Trigger privately, feeling quite guilty over her behavior in the car, even if it wasn't entirely her fault. She still should have known better than that. But she still acted out, and she wanted to take responsibility for it and correct her error.
As everyone got out of the car, she hoped that she would at least get to get a quick word in to him before they parted ways, especially since looking over at him, Judy felt bad at just how worn out he looked. Even with his back turned to her, busy collecting the items he got from the event, his tail was giving away his mood with how tightly it was tucked away between his legs. She was about to go and talk to him when a pair of paws grabbed her by the shoulders, preventing Judy from moving.
"Give him some time alone, Carrots," Nick whispered, only letting go of her when she relaxed. "Just trust me on this one. Call it canid instinct." Judy nodded back, trusting her partner and allowing Trigger to head off inside with Count by his side. Booping her on the nose, Nick grinned and stretched, letting out a loud yawn. "Crazy day, huh? Okay, Wolfy, you good there? Let me clear the path for ya!"
James grunted back. "Ready as I'll ever be here, no point in waiting any longer." Awkwardly following Nick inside, he only stopped to quickly wave at Dahlia and Judy. "Pray the doc doesn't find any weird stuff in me!"
The two remaining officers waved him off. "We'll see you very soon, James!" Fangmeyer answered back, putting a lot of emphasis on the word 'very'. A few moments later, and she had all of their things from the day in her arms. "Okay Hopps, let's go talk to the chief. See what he has to tell us."
Judy nodded, and silently followed the larger officer. It was a good thing they had spent hours on the report, because right now, her mind was no longer anywhere close to the work at hand. Arriving at Bogo's office door, Fangmeyer knocked and the chief's voice called them in. She took a deep breath, trying not to look too nervous. It wasn't even like Judy wasn't aware that Count and Trigger didn't get into worse arguments before. It wasn't even the first argument she had with either one of them.
So a large part of her was still wondering: why had the drive back to the station left her feeling so unnerved?
