For how big a deal Carrots wanted to make out of today, it really didn't feel any different to be done with the field training. We still did the same amount of patrolling, the same god-awful amount of paperwork, and still traded the same amount of banter we'd had down since day one.
I, for one, let my celebrating take the form that felt the most appropriate—which mainly involved trying to balance a pen upright on the end of my nose. She typed away at her computer, finishing up today's batch of papercuts, which I'd generously allowed her to do. Hey, it was a big day for me, after all.
"I'm telling ya, Fluff, I think I can get it to a full minute, here." My eyes crossed slightly as I attempted to focus on the pen. She just rolled her eyes.
"Let me know if you hit a full second first, Slick." The pen clattered to the floor.
"All right, I may be bragging a little prematurely," I retorted, slouching down in my chair to retrieve the pen. She double-clicked the submit button and swiveled around to face me better.
"But seriously, Nick, I think that today is a big deal! We need to do something tonight to mark the occasion."
"Carrots," I said slowly, gingerly trying to balance the pen just right, "you know I am literally powerless against your invitations to hang out—oh, look, look, I think I've got it—and nope, that's a no." The pen fell back to the floor, and I decided it was a lost cause.
"Anyway," I said, sliding back into my chair, arms behind my head. "I will almost never say no to palling around after work, but I just—don't feel like this is really worth making a big deal out of." She pouted, pulling a face that was about thirty-two percent cuter than normal.
"Well, isn't that just adorable," I drawled, smirking widely at her. Her pout became a glare, and I instinctively dropped my arms to protect my stomach. "What? I didn't use the c-word!"
"You were thinking it." I gripped my sides tighter, trying to present as little of a target for her freakishly powerful bunny punches. She narrowed her eyes at me.
"Besides," she continued, settling back into her own chair, "it's more than just the field training." She twisted her paws, fluffy little pad-less things they were, in her lap.
"What do you mean?" I asked, slowly unwrapping my arms from around my abdomen. "Is it some kind of rabbit holiday?" I allowed just a little bit of snark to enter my voice. I knew what she was after—I just wanted her to work for it.
"No," she replied, sticking her tongue out at me briefly. Cute. "Can't you think of anything significant about today? Something that might have happened, I don't know, a year ago?" I pretended to strain my mind back.
"The Cubs won the World Series for the first time in over a century?" She went for the punch this time, and I was not prepared as she knocked the wind out of me. "Oof! Geez, Carrots, lay off the steroids."
"Nick, we met a year ago."
"Huh," I said, rubbing my tender stomach, "I guess we did." She went back to pouting.
"Don't tell me you forgot." I held up my paws to stop the guilt trip before it left the station.
"Now, hold on, Fluff," I began, sitting up a little. "I didn't forget. But I don't think we really met until Tujunga." Her expression softened. My lip, however, curled up. "So any anniversary would have to be commemorated at about…what, 3:00 in the morning? Maybe 3:30?"
"Ah, okay. Har har." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Well, I thought it was important." The smirk fell from my face.
"Carrots, I…" My words died off as my mouth suddenly felt very dry.
Old habits die hard, and even a year wasn't enough to overturn a lifetime of keeping my feelings to myself. I leaned over and mussed the fur between her ears, as filled with self-loathing as I was with fondness for my sentimental rabbit.
"Wilde, paws off your partner." I snapped away from Carrots to find Bogo leaning down on the wall of our shared cubicle.
"Chief, it's great to see you. Here to congratulate me on completing my field training?" His mouth twisted in a smile that seemed downright sinister.
"Something like that, Wilde. Just making sure you're all ready for the ride-along exam tomorrow." I gulped.
"Ha ha," I laughed weakly, not at all liking the note of sadistic glee in his voice. "What do you mean?" The smile on his face became wider.
"It's time to put your money where that insufferable mouth of yours is, Wilde. Tomorrow you ride with me and show me what Hopps has taught you." My face froze, eyes wide at the prospect of an eight hour car ride with Buffalo Butt tomorrow. Bogo merely gave a low chuckle and nodded to Carrots before moving away.
"Yeah, let's go drinking tonight," I said as soon as he was out of earshot. She just laughed.
…
Like I said before, old habits die hard. Which is why going to a cop bar was not really relaxing for me, especially with the ride-along looming tomorrow.
For one, I'd never been one to do any kind of heavy drinking. It was never a good idea to dull your mind and senses before a hustle. The most I'd really touched was when it was part of the hustle, like accepting a glass of scotch from a certain shrew, or tossing back one or two beers to get the right scent of an inebriate before a con. Couple that with the fact that I had made it a point to avoid places cops liked to congregate my entire life made me pretty twitchy.
And maybe I was a little nervous around my new coworkers, too. Every day, I woke up worried that this dream would melt around my eyes, that it was only a matter of time before someone echoed Bogo's words from the Rainforest District.
"You really think I'd trust a fox?"
Carrots had told me that Bogo had turned a corner, that he had eventually come to grudgingly (and certainly now, less than grudgingly) respect his smallest officer. Well, that was all fine and dandy, but I've been hurt too many times in my life to not keep a healthy sense of cynicism about certain things.
If any of my coworkers did harbor some previously hidden prejudice towards me, they weren't showing it (or hadn't shown up) tonight. Clawhauser was here, and in full foodie fashion was poring over the wine selection to see what would best pair with the greasy pub food they undoubtedly served here, chatting all the while with everyone at once. It was a feat that would have been impossible for anyone but Benji, who thrived in these kinds of social gatherings.
Delgato, a youngish lion with an unruly mane he struggled fruitlessly to tame every morning in the locker room before roll call, was rolling a massive beer stein between his equally large paws as he spoke with his partner. I didn't know him that well personally, but he hadn't been cold to me or Carrots. I think he might have done some military service before joining up at the precinct; he certainly had a little of that rigidity and respect for authority.
Snarlov, a massive polar bear that could have easily passed for one of Mr. Big's bodyguards, was on the other paw tossing back frozen margaritas so small that Carrots would have just barely had trouble wearing the cup as a hat. He had had somewhere in the vicinity of twenty of them, however, the effects of which were beginning to show through his fur in the form of a faint flush. All the same, he kept steady and upright as he discussed the finer points of a good Tundratown salmon with Delgato.
That left Wolfard and Fangmeyer, a wolf and tiger respectively, and the only cops I wasn't still expecting to turn around and stab me in the back at any moment. For the most part.
Wolfard was a little reserved, though not anywhere near to the same extent as the chief, and was closer to my age than most everyone else in the precinct, who tended to skew either closer to Carrots or closer to Bogo. He had taken me into his ersatz pack within the precinct my first week there, a gesture I appreciated now but had been highly suspicious of at the time.
Fangmeyer was typically pretty upbeat and mischievous in comparison, but not a real troublemaker by any definition. She tended to joke around the station that I was her older brother on account of the orange fur and penchant for pranks we shared. Which reminded me, with my probation (hopefully) ending tomorrow, I'd be free to set up much more elaborate pranks in the future.
And finally, nestled into my side, nursing a third bunny-sized Cosmopolitan that nonetheless had gotten her pretty decently drunk, was Judy. I had gone to the bar to order my drinks ahead of time: one vodka tonic, to be secretly replaced with a plain old Sprite once it was gone. It was an old trick of mine from my early hustling career.
"Yer pretty good at holdin' yer liquor, Slick," she said, her words already slurring.
"And you, my fine bunny companion, are not," I said, delicately removing the empty glass from her paws. "Let's get you drinking some water for a bit, shall we?" I motioned for a server and mimed a glass of water before pointing to the drunken bunny leaning against me.
"Didn't know you were such a thoughtful boyfriend, Wilde," Snarlov laughed, licking salt from his lips as he did so.
My ears began to feel hot, and I took a sip of my soda to make sure it wasn't another vodka tonic by mistake.
"As much as I'm sure you'd all like to gossip about that, you are mistaken. Am I her boy friend? As in, a friend who is a boy, with a space in the middle? Sure. But that's it."
"Don't listen to him, Nick," Wolfard said, gesturing with his beer as he did so. "He's just poking fun 'cause of that movie they're making." My ears perked up, as did Carrots', which ultimately landed somewhere around half-mast on account of the alcohol.
"Movie?" I asked. "Not a movie about us? Carrots and I turned down that guy with the screenplay, Byson something or other." Fangmeyer shook her head.
"He's talking about that Robin Hood movie they're making. Supposed to be out in the next few months."
My tail bristled out in excitement.
"They're finally doing one! That's pretty cool, I use to love Robin Hood as a kid." I paused as my train of thought caught back up to what Wolfard had said. "What does that have to do with us?"
The others all shared a look.
"Benji, why don't you pull up the trailer," Delgato said, draining the rest of his mug.
"Sure thing! I have it bookmarked, because it is just too cute—" His eyes went wide, but Carrots either hadn't caught it or didn't care if it wasn't addressed to a rabbit. He slid the phone my way.
I let the video play. Typical opening shots of forests and castles, underpinned by some soft guitar plucking.
"There's been a heap of legends and tall tales about Robin Hood," a drawling country accent pronounced, now showing some close-ups on a well-loved bow. "All different, too."
The trailer continued on with little to note, other than the fact that it looked pretty good to my eyes. I still didn't see what it had to do with me or Carrots, though.
"Marian, my darling, I love you more than life itself," Robin declared, chained and manacled before Prince John. I gasped, however, at the next shot.
A rabbit, one that could've been Judy's twin, was sitting at Prince John's side. Playing Maid Marian.
The rest of the trailer played out, making little impact on me other than the final shot. Carrots and I had done a fair bit of promotional material for the city, what with the "diametrically-opposed species working in harmony" being something of a good look for a place that had been on the verge of bringing back predator shock collars. The pose that Robin and Marian struck was almost exactly identical to the one we had done on the most popular bit of propaganda. There was no doubt that the film would be playing off of our public image.
"Yeah…I think Jason Biteman's a good choice for Robin, but Ginnifer Lapin's casting announcement has had a lot of vixens up in arms on social media." Fangmeyer said, rolling her empty glass around to shake loose any final drops of beer.
"I think it's inspired! They make such a great pair," Clawhauser said, nearly squealing as he did so.
"Inspired is perhaps a nice way of putting it," I said, clutching the table a little.
"That's so schweet," Judy mumbled, curling up a little into herself (and incidentally, into me as well). I flagged a passing server down.
"I'll take something stronger, please. Bartender's choice."