Well, Happy Valentine's Day everybody! Hope you're all enjoying it. Did I plan to release this chapter today? Well, no; no I did not (actually if I had been planning I would have tried for a romantic one-shot or something of that order). The delay was actually because as I was preparing to send to HawkTooth, I realized one of the scenes needed changing because it had clues that were too obvious. So on the bright side, you get a more challenging mystery this way.

Also a quick shout-out to The Mr. E and dispix for their shrewd observations about the last chapter, and thanks to Justin Durfee for his very high praise. I'll have to remember to look up those songs.

Proofread by HawkTooth

Ethan: "Hey, what about this conduit?"

Zack: "Yeah, right. You'd have to be like a rat to get down there."

(knowing pause)

Magenta: "Oh great."

Sky High

Following role call, Judy and Catano reported to Bogo's office to discuss their results thus far. Nick was already there, and unsurprisingly the chief was unresponsive overall to the report of his doings the previous night.

"Well, I see that Clawson thinks you did well," he observed in a rather dismissive tone. "And that you played your part to the hilt."

Nick rubbed his claws on his shirt. "Well, I've gone a round or three in the acting business," he said with an air of false modesty.

Bogo answered his faux humility with a brief look of feigned interest before reverting to his 'Am I supposed to be impressed' face. "So this Barracus fellow was behind the interference at the courthouse."

"Well, was he threatening our buddy there to run interference? Yes. Yes he was," Nick replied offhandedly. "But I don't think he's the brains behind it. For one thing, he doesn't have a lot." He tapped his temple meaningfully with a claw.

"That's the impression I got when I met him," Judy agreed. "The guy's a front man, not the subtle and conniving type."

Catano hummed thoughtfully. She didn't know the name off the top of her head, but she was willing to take Wilde's word on it that Barracus was a stooge.

"So we've established a definite link between Poisson and some criminal activity," Bogo reasoned. "That certainly raises some questions..."

"But we need to bide our time until we can reel in the big kahunas," Nick concluded.

Bogo and Catano both turned their gazes on him. He wasn't sure if they were looking at him expectantly or distrustfully, but he got the feeling he was being measured somehow.

Might as well put my best on display, he thought quickly, readying his best cop-in-the-making. "Because... right now we don't have anything she can't wiggle out of. Even if we assume she is involved, she can always say she never put Barracus up to that whole hush scheme. Besides, given what we know it's the sheep that pose the real threat - or Ramses, actually."

The taller officers continued their scrutinizing gaze for a moment before Bogo nodded. "That's true enough, and it's why I want you three to find some solid evidence. I'll send some detectives into her factories masquerading as inspectors, but you need to get us a lead - either on her or on the whereabouts of those sheep. We need something we can use, and we need it now."

Judy and Catano both nodded. "We won't let you down, sir," Catano promised.

"We won't let the city down," Judy reaffirmed.

Nick tossed off a salute, earning a scowl from the cape buffalo.

"Then you'd better get on it," Bogo commanded.

As they moved to leave, Bogo suddenly called Judy back. "Hopps, before I forget, we got a package for you by special delivery. Not papers this time, I assure you."

Judy tried to think what he meant as he reached into his desk and withdrew an unmarked container about the size of a box of chocolates. Well, one sized for her species, anyway. He strode around the desk and stooped to hand it to her with a look of grave importance. Suddenly, he paused and his eyes widened with a hard stare, much as he had given her way back when he told her she was fired.

"Use it wisely," he said, uttering each word distinctly and firmly like so many blows hammering in a nail.

As the package dropped into her paws, Judy started a little at the weight and looked it over in confusion. Then, just as suddenly, she suddenly realized what was inside and stared at the box like it had turned into an adder. She looked back up at the chief. "Sir, I…"

"Orders, Hopps. Dismissed."

Judy felt herself teetering on the edge of shock as she mechanically followed Catano out of the office. Even Nick was staring at her in an unsettling way.

"Might as well open it," Catano advised, deadpan.

Feeling a weight of responsibility as if Nick had just climbed up on her shoulders, Judy opened the box.

She knew the different makes and models well enough to identify the object within as a rabbit-sized Chuappa Viper... but what really mattered was that it was a very small, very powerful gun.

Even after the initial shock of seeing her gun there before her eyes wore off, and even after she mustered the nerve to fasten it on her belt, Judy was unusually quiet through the discussion that followed. They quickly nixed the idea of having her pose as an inspector to check out one of the factories. Not only did she lack the rank and experience, but Catano quickly pointed out that if Poisson was up to no good, she would be watching for just such a move. They already had more suitable detectives as well, both from their own precinct and others, to coordinate that plan of attack.

Ten minutes and a quick stop at the precinct cafeteria for coffee later, they set themselves to work combing through files about Poisson and those linked to her. Poisson's record was clean crime-wise, and despite the goods she had handed them on her brother, Guseppe's was much the same. Overall it looked as if the whole Poisson family were for all purposes as innocent as they days they were born… at least on paper.

Catano took the job of searching through files on Poisson's various businesses and investments to see if anyone had tried to dig something up in the past. She recommended that Nick look into the skunk's business contacts for anything shady – by which, it was safe to assume, she meant anyone he recognized from his own history.

Judy did her best to focus on Barracus' record, but the unaccustomed weight at her hip proved a constant distraction. Equally distracting was the periodic awareness of Catano briefly but intensely scrutinizing her from the back. Instinctively her first thought was to vow to prove herself, but in an instant she checked that notion. Prove herself how? What was she planning to demonstrate? They already trusted her with a gun (duh), and obviously they were counting on her to use it if she had to, but could she really do that? Did she even want to prove that she was capable of maiming or killing a mammal who posed a threat? The idea sent chills down her spine, and not in a good way like looking up at a thrill ride or watching a scary movie.

At one point the rabbit was so wrapped up in her brooding – and in trying to concentrate – that she didn't feel Officer Catano's gaze return to her again. For the cheetah, it was almost like looking back in time. She knew there was no way any decent mammal could prepare for what Judy now had ahead of her. For her own part, she had been aware of the violence that went with being an officer long before she even enrolled at the academy. She had played so many shooting games as a teenager that all the kinds of boys Friedkin wouldn't let near her wanted to date her, thinking that her 'violent streak' was hot. They didn't have a clue why she did it, or why later she had trained on the course at the academy until her ears fairly bled through the protection; trained until she could put six shots through a single hole in the practice target.

She wasn't a violent mammal. As abrasive as she seemed, she didn't really hate anyone. She just… knew. And now she knew how much she didn't know. She knew cops made mistakes, though she had never made one where guns were involved. Now, though, with the prospect of having to choose between her own life and that of a mammal essentially trapped inside their own mind so much more prominent… well, even she felt a little sick at that.

Hold onto the sickness, she told herself. It's what keeps you good. The day you stop hating it, you become as bad as the monster who…

Well, that train of thought had to stop. She had to focus on her job right now; on what it was at that very moment.

"Hopps."

Judy jumped straight out of her chair. Even Nick looked like someone had touched a live wire to his tail, which would have been amusing if things hadn't been so serious.

To the bunny's credit, she did a good job of masking her unease when she turned around. "What's up?"

Catano gazed unemotionally at her compatriot. "It comes with the territory," she said simply. "None of us likes it, but we do have to be ready for anything. Since you're new, though, I'll take point in anything dangerous if you want."

Judy didn't know what to say. She hated being watched over; mollycoddled, really, or so it felt. She' spent her whole life hurdling every barrier in her path… but she became a cop to make the world a better place. The weight of her position seemed heavier than ever now.

Watching her closely and reading her internal struggle, Catano decided it was best to let her compatriot mull it over a while. It was time to change subjects.

"Getting back to business," she announced, turning to Nick, "I'm only finding a lot of tabloid garbage and gossip column schlock. If she's been investigated, it's not in the system. Wilde, you find anything?"

He shrugged. "Only that she seems to be a bit specific in who she helps," he remarked.

Up went one of Catano's eyebrows. "What do you mean?" she asked. Judy was curious too, getting up from her workspace.

Nick looked at her as if wondering why that was important. Then with a shrug he turned his screen so they could see better as the cheetah knelt behind Judy, who in turn peered around him. "City's about ninety percent prey, right?"

Catano nodded. "What about it?"

In answer, the fox began flipping through a series of mammal profiles. "These are the founders of her most promising contacts. These guys wouldn't be in business if Poisson hadn't gotten them going, and she still has major shares in most of their companies."

The profiles came and went too quickly for even Judy to process much, but the pictures told her pretty well what Nick was driving at. "Four out of five of them are predators," she observed.

"Male predators," Catano noted.

Judy made a face. "You don't think she's just…?" she asked warily.

The cheetah shook her head. "No. One thing I do believe out of what I've read is that she's looking for a male skunk to have an heir and pass on the family business. If I had to guess, I'd say she's choosing mammals who remind her of her father. From what you said, she seems to think pretty highly of him."

"That's true," Judy admitted, somewhat relieved. She didn't like Poisson much anyway, but somehow the thought of the skunk using her business ties that way still disgusted her.

Catano either didn't know or didn't guess what Judy was thinking. Instead she turned her eyes back to Nick's screen. "Anyway, I think we can use this information."

There was an unaccustomed tone in her voice, and it took the smaller set a minute to realize that she had actually smiled.

"Let me guess," Nick mused. "Little old moi is gonna go from lowlife to bigshot?"

Catano nodded. "Study their profiles," she advised, gesturing to the screen. "Try to be as much like them as possible."

Nick frowned. "Well, there's a couple of problems with that. To get an appointment with Poisson, I'd either have to take months we don't have or use an inside contact."

"You don't have an inside contact?" Judy asked, scrunching her face. "I thought you knew everyone."

"I do," he admitted. "In fact I know Poisson's secretary pretty well. Problem there is, she also knows me."

If this weren't such a problem for them, Catano might have smirked. "I can see how that would be a problem. Is there any way you can persuade her anyhow? You seem like you'd be pretty smooth with females."

Nick almost smiled at this remark. It was, all in all, pretty high praise from someone as distant as Catano. "Well, thank you ma'am, but there's another problem. For someone of Olivia's caliber, I'd need a much more developed business plan than I've got lying around."

They were all silent for a moment. "Didn't you say your dad tried to start a business once?" Judy asked thoughtfully.

At this matter the fox's expression clouded over. "Well, he did, but that plan's kind of out of my reach right now."

It took some doing for them to get an explanation out of him, but in the end he finally confided – though only to Judy after Catano had reluctantly left the room.

The plans were at his mom's place… and they hadn't talked to each other in roughly a decade.

Things were quiet that afternoon at the Cloven Hoof as the usual weekday crowd went about their business. Panhandlers and an odd collection of lowlifes downed fermented grains and grass at tables in the corners, making occasional catcalls and wolf whistles at the waitresses. More to the middle of the room sat ungulates on their days off and those more recently unemployed, catered more attentively by the staff. The bar was presently dominated by a band of out-of-work bikers, their shaven arms boasting tattoos through varying thicknesses of regrown wool.

Into this setting strode an unusually short sheep, walking strangely as though his legs didn't work quite right. His attire consisted of black pants, a white shirt, and a black vest that bulged on one side over some concealed object. Despite his apparent handicap he jumped with surprising agility onto one of the bar stools. Ignoring the various looks from other patrons, he patted a vixen waitress as she headed toward the back of the shop.

"Nice to see you, dollface," he croaked.

She gave him an appraising look and frowned. "See me off the clock," she said in a tone which was somehow equal parts dismissive and flirtatious.

The bartender gave the vixen a warning look, then regarded Hans with some effort at an amicable look.

"What can I get you, Hans?" she asked. Hans was relatively new as a patron, out of work judging by his daily visits, and already had the air of a regular about him.

"Usual," he answered carelessly. He looked up and down the bar at the others seated there, snorted, and then looked to the far end of the establishment.

"Patch is already waiting for you," the ewe advised without turning to look from the drink she was preparing. Sure enough, Patch sat at a table towards the back, a deck of cards already in front of him. Unimaginative as his moniker was, the ram was pretty intimidating for someone missing his left eye and right horn. He had been the Cloven Hoof's resident ace at card games until Hans showed up and began taking him to the cleaner's on a daily basis. This unprecedented winning streak and the small sheep's unreadable Pawker face had earned him the begrudging respect and unshakable rivalry of the ram he'd dethroned, and now their every match ended with a challenge to another.

Since his ungainly legs prevented Hans from descending with a drink in paw, he climbed down without it and one of the bikers handed it to him with an unpleasant sneer.

"Does your mommy know you're not in school?" teased the larger ram.

Hans scowled up at him, then dismissed him with a wave. "You ain't worth the jail time," he said simply, heading over to his rival. He clambered up to the seat and held out a hoof.

Patch gazed at him distrustfully. "What's the hoof for?" he asked.

A derisive snort preceded his answer. "You think I'm gonna play cards without checking the deck first?"

The larger ram snorted and handed over the deck. "When you gonna start trusting me, Hans? Just because you've beat me more times than anyone can playing fair, you think I'm gonna cheat?"

Hans didn't answer at first, scanning through the cards for anything missing or any tricks. Seeing that the answer was an obvious 'no,' Patch went and hung up his jacket, revealing wiry arms and a T-shirt.

At last Hans gathered the cards back up, tapped the sides, and began to shuffle. "Looks all good today," he admitted, mixing and re-mixing the deck. He kept a blank face as always, but his feet were killing him. Glancing up at a mirror hung on the wall behind Patch, he satisfied himself that no one was looking and then kicked off his hooves.

They proceeded to play, with Patch growing more and more agitated as he lost hand after hand. What made Hans' success the more frustrating was that he only seemed to have half his mind on the game. He kept drifting off or glancing at the mirror as if checking the room.

Inside the literal mask that was Hans, a small fox was in fact keeping half his mind on the game while the vixen – as he had hoped – disappeared through the basement door. Finnick hadn't worked with Vanya as closely as Nick had, and had always counted that as proof that the younger fox was not quite as streetwise as he, even if he was more creative. However he knew the vixen, and seeing her in a place like that could only mean trouble.

Making a show of scratching his chin, he surreptitiously triggered a crudely wired earpiece. The feed from the bug he had planted on Vanya came through loud and clear.

"Better hurry up with those boxes," said her voice with a crackle. "And forget those magazines. We can always replace them."

"Are you kidding? These are some of the best issues!"

Vanya snorted. "Typical male. Where's the brain of this outfit? Faust? Faust!"

'Faust' did not sound happy – and from what Finnick had been able to learn, the voice sounded like it must belong to Doug. "Hey, how about less talking and giving me a little help? I'm dealing with delicate equipment here."

By the sounds of grumbling, shuffling, and objects coming noisily together it sounded as though Vanya had, however unhappily, conceded to the ram's request.

"So what's the latest on the formula anyway?" she asked.

He snorted in reply. "Nothing you'd get without a degree," he answered dismissively. "That b… boss of ours wants me to make it so he can delay the effects; get a whole bunch of mammals before anyone realizes the first ones have been hit."

Vanya grunted as she moved another box. "Sounds like a fun party. How would you do that?"

"Why are you asking me a question and then signaling me to keep my mouth shut?"

There was a sound as of Velcro coming undone, and then Vanya's voice came more loudly through the earpiece.

"Just making it more interesting for an old friend listening in."

Finnick swore under his breath and slapped down his cards. "Nice doin' business with you, Patch," he snapped, jumping down and making a move toward the door. He was careful not to run. Running drew attention.

Alas, it looked like he already had that. The ewe behind the bar snapped her fingers, and in an instant half the customers got up and moved to block the escapee's way. Standing amidst them was another arctic vixen, dressed in a waitress' uniform and grasping a bottle by the neck.

"It's not polite to play and run," said the vixen, waving the bottle slightly as if to test its weight. "We've been waiting a long time for this moment, you know."

Behind the mask, Finnick snorted. "Yeah, I'll bet you have," he growled, reaching into his vest. With a rip of velcro and a flick of his wrist, he swung a collapsible aluminum bat out to its full length. "Now get outta my way."

Oh, boy. That's gonna throw a cramp into their plans. How's he going to solve this?

For those who could use a recap (I know it's been a while), I mentioned some chapters back following Nick's visit with Taelia and her band that Nick had a falling out with his mom. This was after she discovered that the contributions of which she was so undoubtedly proud were actually provided through unethical and illegal acts. To make it even more painful for Nick, his necessary evils turned out not to be so necessary after all when he discovered that dear old Mom was somehow still paying rent without him chipping in at all. This is a slight deviation from what's been officially said about Mrs. Wilde, but I dare say if she wanted her son to grow up responsibly (as the movie's few indications suggest), she would be pretty upset to learn that her sole offspring was a criminal.

Incidentally, I was originally going to just identify Judy's weapon as a Gemsglock (mixing Glock with a kind of antelope called a Gemsbock). A friend of mine, however, told me there was a kind of gun called a Rhino manufactured by the Chiappa company. I turned the name "Chiappa" into a play on "Chupacabra," which I could very easily see occupying a niche in Zootopian mythology and thus becoming a mascot for a weapons manufacturer. When I first posted this chapter I kept the Rhino name, but after some consideration it occurred to me that they would probably assign Judy a weapon made more for precision than brute force (not sure how much kick a Chiappa Rhino has, but it looks like a pretty hefty handgun). So I changed the name to Viper.

Kudos to The Mr. E for spotting something I hadn't elected to list as an Easter Egg in the previous chapter. "Tonto" was the name of the Lone Ranger's sidekick – and, possibly not by coincidence, happens to be Spanish for "stupid." I actually have a funny bit of personal history to relate here: some time ago, working on a now-abandoned book concept, I stuck the name "Tonto" on one of the characters simply because I liked how it sounded. Ironically for someone so named, he was genetically engineered for superior strength and intelligence and would ultimately rebel against the one who had made him that way and then expected him to follow all orders (long story). In any case, I've since heard the name "Tonto" used as a kind of synonym for "sidekick" or "associate," kind of like calling some random person "Jack" (e.g. Samurai Jack).

Okay, rambling's done. Time to catch up on those Easter Eggs.

This chapter only has a couple of Easter Eggs, though one is admittedly rather obscure.

Star Wars

Back to the Future II

Previous Answers:

Chapter 23:

The remark about Nick flying too close to the sun may be debatable as an Easter Egg, but it is a nod to the Greek myth of Icarus. He and his father made wings of wax and bird feathers to escape an island prison, but Icarus ignored his father's warnings and flew so high that the sun's heat melted the wax, leaving him to plummet to his death. By the standards of Greek mythology, that's actually quite (please excuse the pun) down to earth.

I guess I did too good of a job with the Superman one, because now I can't find it.

Chapter 24:

Dispix recognized a mouse named Mr. Little (kind of a nod to Stuart Little) in the board meeting, but nobody seemed to observe Alphonse Biggliani, aka Mr. Big. Well, he is on the small side.

Once again, thanks for reading. Hope you all had a good Valentine's Day!