The moment he got that look on his face, she knew that trouble couldn't be far behind. But as much as she dreaded the inevitable consequences, oh sweet merciful cheese and crackers did her fox ever know how to apologize.
She knew that look too well; the half-lidded eyes and calm, flat expression that practically screamed guilt. It heralded nothing but trouble, and it had been bad enough when she only had to handle it from Nick – it was even more disconcerting in stereo.
"Alright, fess up." She ordered the pair of foxes standing before her. "What have you two done now?"
Nick gave her an affronted look. "Carrots, I'm wounded. Why would you just assume that we've done something wrong? Maybe we're just happy to see you."
The other fox shook his head in disappointment. "Are you saying that two foxes can't go out without getting into some kind of trouble?"
"No, I'm saying that you two can't seem to go out without getting into some kind of trouble." She leaned forward and glared at the shorter (and in her experience, much more pliable) of the two foxes, putting on her best interrogation voice. "We both know I'm going to find out sooner or later, and I'll be a lot more lenient if you confess now."
The shorter fox's resolve seemed to briefly falter and he shot a quick glance in Nick's direction.
"She's bluffing." Nick assured his partner in crime, his calm posture never faltering. "She wouldn't be fishing if she had any evidence."
She took a moment to scowl at him, then refocused on her target and narrowed her eyes dangerously. "What's it going to be, Ethan? Confess now and I'll go easy on you. Force me to find out on my own and you'll be spending this weekend in the hole."
"What?!" The young arctic fox cried. "Mom, that isn't fair!"
She regarded her adopted son coolly. "Sometimes life isn't fair, kiddo."
"But it was an...ow!" He was cut off by a sharp kick to the shin, followed by Nick's attempt at nonchalant whistling. "Dad!"
"The hole has room for two, Nick." She warned her husband, watching his confident smirk vanish with some satisfaction.
"Okay, Carrots. Take it easy." Nick held up his paws. "I'd like to begin by saying that what we did was done in the name of science."
She crossed her arms, eying the pair dubiously. "This ought to be good."
"Well, Ethan's school is having a science fair and we were trying to come up with a project we could work on together. We couldn't think of anything, so we started cruising around the internet for ideas."
"And all we found were lame baking soda volcanos and models of the solar system!" Her son groaned.
"Right, but then we found this engineering site and Ethan got really jazzed about doing something involving internal combustion systems. Y'know, like an engine? But he wanted to do a different take on it."
"Totally." Ethan agreed. "So, we thought about who'd know a whole lot about engines and machinery, and the first name that came to mind was Grandpa Stu!"
"He was really excited to help, too." Nick added.
The younger fox grinned enthusiastically. "He told us about some of the other science projects he'd helped out on over the years. Then he told us about this one he built with Uncle Toby!"
From the back of Judy's mind, an old memory came rushing to the surface. "Oh no. Tell me you didn't..."
"It was perfect, Carrots! Totally a first-place winner! He even emailed us the plans."
"Well, he got Aunt Charlotte to email the plans for him." Ethan clarified.
"Seriously?" She swallowed the urge to laugh. "You two built a potato cannon?"
"It was awesome!"
"Plus, we had a great time building it. It was a real father and son bonding experience. Your dad's design was amazing, too." Her husband smiled. "Even better after we powered it up a little."
"Why would you..."
"We had to!" Ethan insisted. "Uncle Toby said we'd never be able to beat his two-hundred-meter record!"
She sighed, giving in to her curiosity. "And?"
"Well, we took it out to the waterfront to test it– safety first, right buddy?"
Ethan nodded vigorously. "Right!"
"And we did extend our range past two hundred meters."
"But...?"
"We might have forgotten to account for the crosswind." Nick cleared his throat awkwardly. "Or for the possibility that someone might had parked their car about two hundred and forty-seven meters away..."
"What?!" Judy's amusement vanished in a heartbeat. "You hit someone's car?"
"Not exactly." Ethan answered hesitantly. "I mean, it absolutely would have hit the car if, uh, the window hadn't been open."
"Sweet merciful cheese and crackers...tell me you didn't hurt anyone." Before either of them could answer, the cheerful tones of Judy's phone interrupted the conversation. As she pulled it from her pocket, she jabbed a finger in their direction. "You two stay right there. We're not done."
Looking down at her phone, she winced at the picture. "Oh, carrot sticks! I forgot I was supposed to meet Fru Fru for coffee. She's probably wondering where I am."
She was about to send the call to voicemail when Nick let out a choked whine. Glancing between the phone and her husband, Judy felt some very unsettling puzzle pieces fall into place. Locking eyes with him, she ignored his half-panicked expression and raised the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
"Oh, Judy! I'm so sorry I stood you up!" Fru Fru Big cried. "I couldn't make it today!"
"It okay, Fru. What happened?"
"Something awful! Just awful! Someone attacked Koslov down by the wharfs! They broke his nose and just ran off!" In the background, Judy could hear her friend's father shouting orders at his polar bear enforcers. "He and Daddy are so angry!"
"Did...did you say someone broke Koslov's nose? As in Koslov, the thirteen-hundred-pound polar bear?" She shot her foxes a glare that could melt steel; her husband's ears pinned back sharply and her son let out a frightened whine. "How did they even..."
"That's the worst part!" The shrew interrupted. "They hit him right through his car's open window with a POTATO! Can you believe it? The disrespect! Daddy is just LIVID!"
"Oh Fru, please ask your father not to do anything drastic."
"I don't know, Judy. He's really upset."
"Fru, I..." Judy closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "I might know who attacked Koslov."
"WHAT?!" Her friend shrieked. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW WHO ATTACKED KOSLOV?!"
Before Judy could explain, there was a brief scuffling sound on the other end of the line followed by an altogether different voice.
"Judith."
"Mr. Big." She kept her tone neutral, forcing her nose to not twitch. "Good evening."
An uneasy detente had existed between the Big family and the ZPD since long before Judy had come to the city. For better or worse, the shrew and his criminal organization followed a code of honor; they would have nothing to do with drugs, prostitution, or the sale of firearms - nor would they tolerate any group that did.
They took impeccable care of their territory, as well. Perhaps the civil work crews hired by the city charged considerably more than a normal contract rate, and maybe their financial records didn't always line up perfectly at the end of the quarter, but the work was still completed on time and to a flawless standard. In many ways, Tundratown was the safest and best maintained district in the city.
Unfortunately, that same code of honor called for a swift retribution against any attack on the family, and the diminutive crime boss was extremely dangerous when provoked. As such, the shrew skipped the usual pleasantries and got right to business. "I understand you know the identity of Koslov's attackers?"
"I believe so." She answered carefully.
"Are you inclined to share this information?" Even with the faint tremor brought on by age, his voice was no less intimidating.
"I think we both know I'm not."
"You were perfectly willing to share the information with my daughter, and I would be most appreciative if you would reconsid..."
"Please," She interrupted. "No questions asked or answered, no favors offered or granted. You know that's how it works."
"And because my daughter values your friendship, I have held to those terms." Somehow, his voice grew more menacing. "However, I consider Koslov to be part of the family. An attack on my family, no matter the scale, demands a response."
"I didn't identify anyone, and I'm not going to. Besides, I only said that I knew who might have been responsible." She paused, weighing her next statement carefully. "If I'm right, I can also say that they're idiots, and assure you that what happened to Koslov was an accident. Neither of us wants to see this situation escalate, so I'll ask you to let me handle it."
"I see." The line went silent for a long moment. "I believe I understand your position, Judith."
"You do?"
"As I said, family must be protected." Judy felt her blood run cold as the shrew continued. "I also agree that situations such as this are best handled, shall we say, internally."
She relaxed, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I'm glad you feel that way."
"Of course. I will leave this matter in your care. I will not pursue it any further, nor will anyone in my employ. We shall not speak of this again."
A sharp click signaled the end of the call and Judy lowered the phone from her ear, once again turning to glare at her husband and son; the foxes' earlier bravado had vanished, replaced by pinned ears and limp tails. "What the HELL were you two thinking?!"
Nick winced and took a hesitant step toward her. "Carrots, I..."
"Actually, I don't want to hear it." She cut him off. "Get in the hole, both of you. Now."
"But...it's almost eleven."
"Then I guess you'll need a flashlight." She growled, eyes narrowing even further as the two foxes scrambled to obey her.
-o—o—o—o—o—o—o—o-
When she came downstairs the following morning, Judy wasn't surprised to find Nick snoring loudly in the living room. As much as she still wanted to be upset with him, the sight of her poor dirt-covered fox sprawled out on the couch and fast asleep tugged at her heart. She was just moving to wake him when she heard a faint noise coming from the kitchen. She went to investigate, and found her son just picking up a breakfast tray.
"Oh, good morning." Ethan greeted her quietly. "I was just coming to wake you up. I made you your favorite breakfast - oatmeal and fruit salad. And I cleaned up as much as I could without waking Dad up."
She glanced down at the food, then back to the abashed-looking fox. "Ethan, have you been up all night?"
He looked away, shuffling his feet a little before placing the tray back on the kitchen counter. "I went online and sent Mr. Koslov an anonymous gift basket to apologize. Dad told me he likes smoked fish and pickled eggs. He also said that Mr. Big would appreciate the gesture, even he didn't know who it came from."
"Oh honey, you didn't have to do that."
"I know, but I'm really sorry. We just got over-excited and I didn't mean to hurt anyone." He whispered, quickly wiping away an errant tear with the back of his paw. "You shouldn't have had to come to my rescue."
Judy's heart nearly broke at the sight of her son's tears. Ethan had always been a sensitive little fox, right from the day they had adopted him. His mother had died giving birth, and when no other family came forward he'd been handed over to protective services. He spent the next four years in the foster system, being ostracized over everything from his species to his snow-white fur. The other children would call him a ghost, sometimes pretending he didn't exist for days at a time. Even after she and Nick brought him home, it had been months before he'd spoken above a whisper.
Although he'd grown into a happy and outgoing mammal in the eleven years since then, when he was upset he would sometimes fall back on hold habits; shuffling around, speaking softly and trying to make himself look as small as possible.
Fighting back her own tears, she pulled her son into a tight embrace. "I will always come to your rescue, silly fox."
Ethan wrapped his arms around her. "I love you, mom."
"I love you too, sweetheart." She assured him, giving him a comforting nuzzle. "But for the record, you're still in huge trouble."
"I'm probably grounded forever, right?"
"No." She answered simply. "But you and your father are going to spend the rest of the weekend in the hole."
"What?!"
"Watch it, mister." She scolded him, a little playfully. "I'm not the one who shot a twelve-foot-tall mafioso in the face with a potato. Would you rather deal with him, or the hole?"
Ethan seemed torn for a moment, before he looked away and muttered. "The hole."
"Good choice." She nodded. "Besides, you're the one who wanted a backyard pool. Now go get your father up, get out there and start digging."
Sighing, he began trudging toward the door.
"Ethan, one last thing."
He turned, looking at her curiously. "Yeah?"
"You guys really fired a potato two hundred and forty meters?"
"Two hundred and forty-seven." Ethan couldn't conceal the note of pride in his voice.
"With a potato cannon that you built yourself?"
"Yep."
"That's pretty amazing, sweetheart. I'm very proud of you."
"Oh...er... Thanks." He blushed a little, looking away. "Does that mean I don't have to..."
"Nice try, kiddo." She smirked. "Go wake your dad and get to work. You're burning daylight and I have a wonderful breakfast to enjoy."
.
.
Unbelievable... For ten months, I was crippled by writer's block on this one - I had no clue what to write. Then I wake up a 6am one morning, open my laptop, and slam this story out in a couple of hours.
Muses are weird.