It only took Clawhauser a few minutes to look up the respective mating seasons for foxes (December to February) and rabbits (February to May), but he still took a small measure of pride in figuring out why Nick and Judy were always so eager to reach the end of their winter shifts.

~o~o~o~

On the bright side, though, Ben had to admit that the realization would make staffing a little easier. Honestly, he was a little embarrassed to have not caught on sooner. Nick might have been the first fox to join the ZPD, but he was still a member of the Canidae family. With the number of wolf officers around, he really should have seen this coming.

At least with Judy, he had an excuse. No scheduler in the history of the Zootopia Police Department had ever had to work around a bunny's peak mating season before, such as it was. Ben thanked his lucky stars that rabbits didn't go through heat cycles; the idea of Judy's seemingly perpetual energy and enthusiasm aimed entirely at a single male was more than a little bit intimidating – though it did sort of explain why, since the beginning of the Canidae mating season, Nick had been getting so many respectful nods from the other canine officers.

Abandoning his musings, Ben settled in for the complex and mind-numbing task of re-arranging the next quarter's schedule block. The finalized schedule was supposed to be posted no later than the 1st, and ZPD procedure officially stated that all officers would be on a regularized shift rotation - six weeks on 1st shift, six weeks on 2nd shift, and six weeks on 3rd shift. Lather, rinse, repeat. But as Ben's grandfather - a former Marine - liked to say; no plan survives contact with the enemy.

To be fair, he'd also said that rubbing garlic oil into your fur made you run faster. He'd always been a little eccentric.

Ten thousand years ago, things were probably a lot simpler. A given mammal would associate almost exclusively with members of their own species. But when you add a little civilization and a dash of evolution into the mix, things got a lot more complicated. That was why - regardless of what official procedure dictated - the ZPD had to take a more practical approach to scheduling. It wasn't just the individuals themselves that needed to be considered, but also their effects on those around them. Sometimes it was anybody's guess about who was going to react to another mammal's pheromones – and whether or not that reaction was going to be positive.

For example, in the late fall Higgins was on permanent night-shift; the hippo wasn't particularly pleased about it, but even he had to admit that it was better than the alternative. Between late October and early December, the last thing anyone wanted was for Higgins and the Chief to end up in the same room. If they did, odds were good that they'd come to blows over some long forgotten territorial instinct; when over four-thousand combined pounds of pissed-off mammal starts wrecking the room, all you can do is get out of the way.

The most frustrating example of schedule balancing, though, was having to account for officers' respective mating seasons – which had grown increasingly challenging with the increasing number of interspecies couples in the city. Setting up the shift schedules during the spring may have been a pain, but the winter months were a headache and a half.

Precinct One's polar bears used to boast about how lucky they were; their April-May mating season didn't overlap with anyone else's. It had left them free from the challenges faced by their fellow officers until, to nearly everyone's horror, it was discovered that their season crossed over with the peak mating season of one other species in the ZPD: rabbits.

That first spring had brought new and unimagined levels of awkwardness to the precinct. Judy would routinely walk into a room just in time to see any number of polar bears awkwardly shuffling out. At one point, Judy had innocently commented that Snarloff looked particularly sharp in his dress blues and the bear had practically fled the bullpen. To make matters worse, because no one had the courage to explain the situation to the poor bewildered rabbit she spent the rest of the week trying to corner the bear, just so she could apologize for whatever she'd done to offend him.

But at the end of the day, clever scheduling or outright avoidance only worked to a point. For many officers, the only solution was to grit their teeth and deal with a little discomfort.

"Case in point." Ben muttered to himself when he spotted Wolford and Fangmeyer walking from the bullpen to the motor pool. To the casual observer, nothing about them seemed out of place. As always, they stayed close to one another, but never too close, and for most of February the air between them was hot enough to roast a marshmallow. He didn't know who the pair thought they were kidding; it was blatantly obvious that they had the hots for each other.

Maybe all they needed was a little push...

Ben gave himself a mental slap, throwing off the temptation to involve himself in other officers' personal affairs. That only led to trouble.

As embarrassed as he was to admit it, there had been a time then he'd use his detailed knowledge to meddle in the romantic lives of his co-workers. He told himself that he was helping them toward happiness, and probably would have kept it up if things hadn't suddenly gone sideways almost seven months ago. He'd messed up, badly, by casually letting it slip that one of Precinct One's detectives had a crush on their partner. That would have been bad enough under normal circumstances, but there was a key detail he'd managed to miss in his excitement; one of the officers was married. Ben had been so caught up in his 'matchmaker' fantasy that he'd barely skimmed the detective's personnel file – not that he should have been looking at it for that purpose anyway.

He would have taken it back if he could, but spreading gossip is like throwing a bucket of water into a river; you can refill the bucket, but you'll never be able to take back the water you threw in. He was helpless to watch as that gossip turned into rumors, and those rumors crept out of Precinct One to the rest of the department. He didn't know all the details, but it hadn't been long before he heard that the married detective and his wife were in couple's counselling. Around the same time both detectives were assigned to new partners, and eventually one of them requested a transfer to a different precinct.

Ben had already been beating himself up about it when he got called in for a mandatory 'chat' with Mammal Resources. He didn't know whether they'd somehow tracked the rumors back to him or if they'd simply guessed. Given his reputation as precinct gossip, neither would have surprised him. He'd been forced to endure a solid hour of grilling, ordered to attend a mandatory workplace sensitivity class, and been put on a three-month probationary period. And that was nothing compared to the much louder, very one-sided conversation he'd had with the Chief.

Once the dust settled, he'd committed himself to a strict 'no meddling' policy. He loved his job, valued every friend he had there, and had been told in no uncertain terms that trying to manipulate their personal lives was a great way to lose both. If he heard the tell-tale sounds of hushed voices telling secrets around the water cooler or in the break room, he'd turn tail and walked away. If he noticed something about someone that seemed to hint at juicy details, he just put it out of his mind. As challenging as it had been, though, his 'no-gossip' diet had done the trick. He'd made it through his probation and hadn't had a problem since.

"Ben! Can I talk to you for a second?"

Shaken from his thoughts, he smiled as Sofia Fangmeyer made her way over to the reception desk. "Sure. What's up?"

"So..." She leaned in and lowered her voice. "We've known each other a while, haven't we?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"And you know that I trust your opinion, right?"

"Sure..." He eyed her suspiciously.

Smiling, she quickly glanced over her shoulder. "I was just wondering whether you think Danny and I would be good together?"

"I...what?"

You've got to be kidding me, he groaned silently.

"Danny. Wolford?" She clarified, as if he didn't know who she was talking about. "My partner? Do you think he and I would make a good couple?"

Despite himself, Ben felt like a pot that was ready to boil over. "I...uh...I really couldn't say."

"C'mon, Ben." The tiger laughed, rolling her eyes lightly. "You're not gonna get in trouble if I ask for your advice."

"Yeah...right, okay. Well, I think you... I mean, in my opinion..." He huffed, gesturing vaguely in the tiger's direction. "What I want to say is that he..." He pointed a claw at the wolf across the lobby, who peered back quizzically. "...y'know?"

To his surprise, Fangmeyer actually smiled. "You think so?"

He took a deep breath and shrugged helplessly. "I guess?"

"Me and Danny, though?" She glanced over her shoulder, obviously trying to look casual. "I dunno...Are you sure?"

"I..."

"Hey, Benji." Wolford cut in before the cheetah could answer. "I saw you pointing. Was there something you needed?"

"For you and I to go out on a date, apparently." Fangmeyer answered for him. The smaller cat winced, expecting the wolf to react a little more dramatically than his partner had.

To his surprise, Wolford just gave his partner a quick once-over. "No kidding?"

"I..." He hesitated, nodding slowly.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?!" Fangmeyer laughed, lightly smacking her partner's shoulder. "I'm a real catch, thank you very much!"

"Damn right you are." He winked "I just wanted to hear what he thinks."

"Oh. Sure." The pair turned to face the slightly confused desk sergeant. "So how about it, Ben?"

"I...uh...because of...reasons?" The cheetah ventured helplessly.

"Eh. Good enough for me." Wolford shrugged, turning to his partner. "What do you say? Flip a coin?"

Nodding, the tiger fished about in her pockets for a quarter, flicking it into the air with her thumb. "Call it."

"Tails."

"And...tails it is." She shrugged. "I guess we're dating now."

Nodding, the wolf flashed her a quick thumbs-up. "Cool."

"Anyway, I'm gonna go grab our bean-bag gun from the armory. Meet you back here in a few?"

"See you soon, sweetie!" Wolford responded, batting his eyelashes at her comically.

The tiger rolled her eyes, not bothering to respond as she walked away. Chuckling, Wolford turned back to the bewildered cheetah. "So, any plans for this weekend?"

Ben blinked at him owlishly for a second. "Wait...what just happened?!"

Wolford shrugged. "I dunno. The power of love?"

Ben's face must've displayed every bit of the bafflement swirling in his mind, because the wolf only managed to keep hold of his composure for a few seconds before he broke down laughing. Annoyed, he fixed his cackling friend with a glare. "What's so funny?"

"Dude, you've really been on another planet, you know that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean you've been trying so hard to avoid gossip that you practically buried your head in the sand." Wolford smirked. "Sofia and I have been together for, like, three months now."

"Three-and-a-half." The tiger added as she approached. "Did he seriously not notice?"

"He did not."

"But you two are always so..." He gestured vaguely at the amused pair. "...rigid."

"Well yeah, man. Gotta keep it professional in uniform, right?"

As the cheetah struggled to catch up with the conversation, Fangmeyer reached out to place a comforting paw on his shoulder. "It's been nearly half a year, Ben. I know you got rattled by what happened, and with good reason, but I think you learned your lesson. Maybe it's time to stop punishing yourself? Y'know...maybe rejoin the world a little?"

Thinking back over the last months, he had to admit he'd been a bit of a social recluse. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Alright. Good talk, then." Wolford grinned, giving Ben an encouraging thumbs-up. "We gotta hit the road, but we'll see you later, okay?"

Nodding, Ben watched the pair walk away thoughtfully. Three-and-a-half months. Had he really been so withdrawn that he'd missed something like that for three-and-a-half months? Embarrassed, he silently resolved to start paying more attention to what was going on arou-

"Excuse me?"

"Gah!" Startled, Ben swung around to discover a pretty caracal standing at his desk. She gave him a little wave, and Clawhauser felt his heart skip a beat. He always thought that expression was nonsense, but he'd be damned if his heart didn't actually skip a beat.

"Um...hi."

He blinked at her owlishly for a second before he responded. "Hi."

"Sorry if I startled you." She stepped forward, smiling hesitantly. "I didn't mean to."

"No. I mean, you didn't." Taking a deep breath, his focus briefly jumped to the delicious smell of fresh bread that wafted from the basket hanging on her arm. "How can I help you, Miss...?"

"Rooikat." Grinning, she reached out with her free paw. "Melissa Rooikat. Pleasure to meet you."

~o~o~o~

To Be Continued

~o~o~o~

A/N:Ugh...I'm really not happy with this chapter. I kinda burnt myself out finishing Burrow, and it didn't help that the last three chapters of Forty Glimpses each clocked in at over 8,000 words. There was no chance I was going to be able to squeeze that many words out of Schedule, but I'm hoping to redeem it by linking it to Highlight.

I suppose this is arguably better than a crippling case of writer's block.

Even so...ugh.