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It’s raining.
The spring mist wraps around him, cold and cloying. The rain is getting heavier, throwing up spray and drumming on the wooden platform.
It soaks his clothes, his fur. He’s heavy with it. Somewhere, there’s a violin playing, a discordant arpeggio.
A pair of stalking eyes catch the streetlamp glow and flare wide in the darkness, pinprick pupils suddenly opening like flowers to shine back at him.
They hurt to look at.
He stumbles, trying to back up, to get away, paw over paw scraping and scrabbling and scuffing on the splintering wood as panic starts to grip and tighten across his chest.
The violin bleeds languidly into lounge music, slow and out of phase. Bedding under it all, he can make out rushing water, getting louder.
A glance backwards and the rabbit is there, struggling as she tries to haul herself back up onto the platform, falling back as if being dragged down by a heavy weight or unseen paw.
She calls his name.
He can feel hot breath and the scent like mown grass fills his nose as the terrible teeth and claws and eyes and fur lurch forward, powerful, resolute and final.
His pleading eyes dart back to the rabbit and lightning fast, she loops a trailing vine around her thin wrist and nods. He rolls to his left, and reaches out a paw, claws flexing, grasping.
She’ll catch me, he thinks. Their paws fail to connect and she screams and he wonders why and then he screams.
He’s falling, falling, tumbling, end over end and head over tail, flailing like a rag as the rushing torrent of water and creaking, crushing, freezing ice rises to meet him.
* * *
“What a night.”
Judy jumped down from the couch. The reflective foil blanket around her shoulders fluttered and rustled.
“Not bad for a first date,” remarked Nick, sipping his coffee with a smile. His own blanket rustled as he shifted.
“Ha.”
For the first time, Nick noticed how tired the rabbit looked. Her eyes were red, the fur on her head was sculpted into little ruffled peaks.
“I have to help process the arrests, Nick. Will you be alright here for a while?”
“Sure, Carrots.”
“There’s coffee,” he lifted his cup.
“There’s snacks,” he pointed over towards the station front desk.
Clawhauser, headphones on, was enthusiastically bobbing and weaving his head, mouthing unheard lyrics in between mouthfuls of donut.
“Don’t worry. I’m set.”
“Okay. Well, if you need anything — just ask Clawhauser.”
Judy waved a paw towards the front desk. Nick arched his eyebrows.
“If I can tear him away from whatever that is he’s listening to.”
Judy smiled.
“Hmm. I’ll see you soon, Slick.”
Nick took another mouthful of coffee as he watched the rabbit pad quietly away, slipping through the heavy doors to the back-of-house offices.
Considering the time of night and the blur of activity earlier, the Precinct station house and its lobby were surprisingly quiet. A few uniforms were milling around, and of course, there was that sugar-rushing cheetah at the front desk, but other than that he felt suddenly alone. He tapped a claw on the now empty cup of coffee as he set it down.
He took in the sparse reading literature to the side of the couch, the usual kinds of obscure ephemera you’d find in waiting areas, the magazines no-one wanted, or cared to read. He turned away, ruffling the matted fur on the back of his neck.
He considered going back home, wherever he might find that, but when he had food and drink and warmth right here, why would he need to? He pulled his foil blanket a little tighter.
With a sigh, he relaxed back into the couch little by little, the foam creaking as it settled under his slight weight. A stretch felt good as he arched his back and pulled his shoulders taut.
At the front desk, Clawhauser continued with his little silent disco, and Nick watched, the fox’s eyes growing heavier with each slowing blink until, one last time, they stayed closed.
* * *
Judy padded lazily down the corridor. It had been a long night. Even after everything, she’d still not been given credentials for the computers, so had to resort to pen and paper to complete her reports. And then! To top it all off, she’d received the order to prepare for a press conference.
Seeing that the rabbit was flagging badly, and with so much to do, Wolford had took pity and swung out to bring back a juice drink for her, a vivid, thick green thing that both cooled and soothed as she drew on the straw.
She’d thanked him profusely. The precinct didn’t have any tea — surprise — and the thought of drinking that tyre-black liquid that was supposed to be coffee in the break-room had made her shudder and despair.
She walked past one of the offices used for community outreach, the pin-board outside covered in aspirational, reassuring posters and leaflets. On a tall table to one side there was a cardboard carton of loose paper, next to a folded board that said:
Make a difference in your community. Join the ZPD today.
Judy took a last pull on her juice drink, the straw gurgling. Setting the cup down, she glanced up and down the corridor.
“You know, I think you’d actually make a pretty good cop.”
“Ugh. How dare you.”
In one swift movement she’d leapt and grabbed a single folded sheet of paper from the carton. She folded it again and tucked it into her belt.
* * *
Nick was dozing quietly when Judy returned to him. She made to wake him up, to tap him on the arm, but held her paw back as his ear twitched suddenly.
She watched transfixed as his eyes fluttered under their closed lids. A little snarl curled his lip and she caught a glimpse of teeth, making her ears rise and nose twitch momentarily.
She could hear a low rumble in his chest — Judy realised he was growling — and little abrupt huffs blew from his nose. A shimmer of muscle made its way down his body, his footpaw twitching, claws trembling.
He’s dreaming.
Judy started a little as his eyes suddenly flicked open, flared pupils dilating in the lobby light, darting left and right as if in panic. Their eyes met and his were becalmed, both fox and rabbit caught frozen in each others gaze.
A moment passed before Nick suddenly inhaled, sharp, deep and loud.
“Judy,” he breathed.
“Hey, Nick. Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No… S’okay Officer Fluff,” he said through gritted teeth as he stretched, every fibre of him pulled tight. He blinked and smacked his dry lips.
“I was just resting my eyes.”
Judy shook her head at the old joke, and gave him a knowing look. Sure you were.
“Ohhh, I need to stand up,” he said. “Cramp.”
Nick shifted forward on the couch and shed his foil blanket. He dropped down to the ground, a little too quickly. Overbalancing, he teetered, almost falling flat before Judy shot out a paw to steady him.
“I’ve got you,” she said.