"God gives grace to the humble, but He flattens the hotshot."
Mrs. Martin, The Adventures of McGee and Me
"Hey, watch it!"
Nick darted aside as a rhino's foot came down uncomfortably close to where he had been standing. It was late morning the day after his rounds with Judy, and after having contacted all his most promising accquaintances he'd remembered that the food supply at his apartment was a little scant. He was supposed to meet with Judy that afternoon once she was done interviewing some of the victims in the recent drugging incident to see if that might turn up any leads.
On the whole, he found he preferred crooks and cons to the daytime crowd in Savannah Central.
The massive mammal glanced down at him. "Watch yourself, pipsqueak," he rumbled, moving on.
Nick shook his head. "How can someone look down his nose with those big horns in the way?" he muttered, going back to browsing the dried bugs. The question of why an herbivore would even be in an aisle geared toward predators also came to mind. He considered asking if the rhino was looking for a relative among the beetles, but the jerk was leaving and the quip wasn't worth bringing him back – much less potentially getting flattened.
He made a note to keep more alert, and in the process noticed a lioness walking by, trailing a cub with a balloon on a long, long string. Ever the sales-fox, it occurred to Nick that balloons would make a handy solution to the visibility issue. His mom had done that sometimes back in his cubhood when they went to fairs.
"Only, I'd look ridiculous walking around with a balloon tied to me," he uttered under his breath. Hawaiian shirts – like the very loud red one he was currently wearing, bedecked in yellow flowers outlined in gold – were one thing. They were fun in their own way – especially today when he felt the need to reassert himself by wearing something outlandish even by his standards – but a balloon would be going too far. Catching a glimpse of a passing antelope buck with a doe on his arm, he noted another snag with the idea: "And it would wreak havoc on my charm."
"Do you always talk to yourself?"
He turned around and froze. There, regarding him with a contemplative gaze, was the vixen from the day before. His words to Judy came back to him: 'You know on the off chance I bump into her later I am never going to be able to face her, right?' He tried to push that less-than-cheerful thought aside. Maybe she had forgotten their last run-in; things like that had happened before.
"So, it's 'Junior Detective,' right?"
Nick wanted to dig a hole in the floor. Then again, maybe not. "Nick Wilde, actually," he replied, hoping to salvage his dignity. "Only Carrots ever calls me... Junior Detective." He trailed off, realizing he had just admitted to being on a nickname basis with the cop who had pulled her over. Someone slap me already, he thought.
"Carrots?" the vixen tilted her head.
"The cop who, uh... the rabbit," he amended. "You might know her as Judy Hopps?"
Nick figured an offhanded delivery of news like that was sure to get a reaction. The vixen didn't disappoint as her eyes popped open.
"The Judy Hopps?!" she echoed. She'd thought the rabbit looked familiar, but she'd been a little too busy hoping to avoid a ticket to think about it. Now she almost wished she had been ticketed; it would practically be an autograph.
"That's the one. Sorry about the traffic stop."
She waved a hand, brushing the matter aside. "Nah, it's fine. I was a little out of it. Sometimes I just get too into the music, you know?"
Nick, who preferred to take a "too cool for this" approach to most tunes, nodded anyway. "Yeah, I gotcha."
By some unspoken signal, the two of them went on with their shopping in tandem, still chatting. Nick was taking mental notes on the vixen's selections the whole time; a hard-wired habit from years in the sales world. He also made note of the fact that neither of her paws had a ring on it. That was as much a survival skill as anything else, really; a hefty number of his narrow escapes in the past had come from trying to steal someone's girl.
"I don't think I caught your name," he mentioned. He had kind of forgotten what the name on the license was, which was probably for the best in retrospect; knowing too much too soon had backfired on him before, more times than he cared to remember.
"That's because I didn't throw it," she replied, sticking out a paw. "Taelia Stones."
Interesting name, he thought. "You seem to know the store pretty well," he noted as she unhooked a small stepladder from her shopping cart and climbed up to reach a deal on one of the higher shelves.
She shrugged. "Well, I like to try different things when it comes to food, so I explore a lot. So how did you end up riding with Judy Hopps? I didn't think cops gave rides."
He coughed. "Uh, actually, I'm not supposed to talk about it," he explained as she came back down the ladder. Then he leaned in closer and whispered, "I'm helping her on a case."
"Really?" The whole thing sounded pretty exciting to Taelia. "What kind of case?"
"Well, on the record I can't tell you that." He had largely managed to stay out of the news articles. The ZPD made it a rule to keep informants and witnesses anonymous whenever possible, and although word seemed to have gotten out that he was working with the authorities this time, he was just fine with not helping the news reach anyone who might want to shut him up. Taelia seemed safe enough, though, so he leaned toward her and whispered, "Strictly between us foxes, though, it might have something to do with the predators being darted over the last few months."
She blinked in surprise as if a camera flash had gone off in her face. "You were part of that?"
He nodded, pausing to pick up a package of Pop-Tarts. "I gave her a few leads, yeah," he replied. His charm hadn't abandoned him, he could tell; she was eating the story up. "And I kind of helped her out when it came to bringing in Bellwether."
Taelia was intrigued by Nick's claim. She'd outgrown the idea of a selfless hero motivated purely by altruism some time ago, but a girl could still dream, right? "So what kind of help did you give her?"
Nick coughed. "Oh, just putting her in touch with a few people here and there. I've got friends all over the city, and Judy has a way of bringing out the best in mammals. I think she'll go far in life."
That got Taelia thinking of something else. "So what do you do when you're not saving the day, Mr. Kent?" she asked, deciding to humor him.
He raised an eyebrow at the joke. "Eh, bit of an entrapeneur, really; mostly in sales."
"What kind of sales?"
"You name it. Popsicles, rugs; all kinds of things. I'm thinking about changing careers, though; Judy's kind of got me thinking of law enforcement."
Taelia looked up from some yogurt-covered raisins. "A fox cop? Has that ever been done before?"
"Nah, but why let that stop me?"
She smiled. It was a tall tale to swallow, but she had always been a pretty good judge of character – and deep down, she really wanted to believe him. "Well, I'm sure you'll do great."
Nick paused. Not many mammals ever expressed confidence in him. Since he'd lost his dad the only ones to say they were "sure he'd do great" were his mother (who would say that, of course) and Judy. "Thanks," he said with full meaning. "That means a lot." Uncomfortable with the silence, he asked, "So what do you do for a living?"
"Oh, me? I'm a D-Jane." In response to the puzzled look this gained her, she explained, "A sound technician. You know, the person in the sound booth at concerts and recording sessions? Kind of like a conductor. I make the music sound better."
"Ah." Nick hadn't really given much thought to that, but he guessed someone had to do it. "So you must work with a band or something, right?"
"A few. I've got some regular bits, but I'm a free agent."
'Free agent.' I like the sound of that, thought Nick. "Anyone I'd know?"
She shrugged. "Well, Gazelle for one."
Nick's eyes popped. "You've worked with Gazelle?"
Taelia laughed. "No; I always say that to see if people are paying attention. Sometimes mammals just kind of glaze over when I tell them what I do."
"No, I want to hear," he insisted, quite honestly. Even if he hadn't been that interested in her work, he was interested in her. "So what are some of your regulars?"
"Ever heard of Vixen?"
Nick paused. "Vixen. Yeah; I've heard some of their songs on the radio. You were behind that?"
"Every note. I've been with them since the first jam session."
The tod made a mental note to look up some of Vixen's music. He was pretty sure he'd heard a few of their songs here and there, but a concentrated study wouldn't hurt.
They got so caught up in talking and shopping that both of them were a little surprised when they found themselves on the other side of the checkout. Nick coughed. "Well, I guess this is where we part ways."
Taelia considered. "That depends," she replied.
"Depends on what?"
Taelia hesitated. Normally she wouldn't say what she was about to say; forward wasn't her style when it came to guys. Still, she'd been getting some pretty distinct signals from Nick during their shopping trip – and she liked what she'd seen so far. "On whether you were going to ask me to lunch or a movie."
"Ah." Nick coughed. "Well, do you mind if I stop at the bank first?" he asked, holding up his wallet. He made it a habit to only carry enough cash to cover whatever errand he was on at the moment. "I don't think I've got enough on me for lunch."
Taelia shrugged as she hefted her two sacks of groceries. "The nearest bank's two blocks away. How about I treat? Call it a thank-you for what you did for all of us."
Nick was a little thrown. "Well, if you insist," he said, without much reluctance.
Taelia led the way to a Chez Cheese outlet just around the corner. Business was fairly slow at that time of day, so they hardly had to wait in line at all – something Nick suspected was not just lucky timing. He recognized the air of someone who, like him, had what she did down to an art form.
"What'll it be?" asked the mouse behind the counter.
The vixen smiled. "Got any mild cheddar with bits of dried strawberry in it?"
Nick blinked. He'd long been in the habit of trying new things in food, but that was a new one even on him.
The mouse looked equally confused. "Uh, no," he said slowly, "but we've got it with basil and sun-dried tomato."
"Mmm, nah." Taelia shook her head. "I have that all the time. How about a slice of the jalapeno cheese on a fish patty sandwich, with a side of mozzerella sticks and horseradish dip? Oh, and a small fountain drink."
"Yep, we've got that," the mouse agreed, punching in the order. He turned to Nick. "What about you?"
Nick thought for a minute and, not wanting to be outdone by a vixen, ordered a grilled cheese sandwhich with interspersed layers of horseradish and habanero cheese, some spicy fries, and a medium fountain drink. "Upgrade her drink too," he added, pulling out a couple of bills.
Taelia turned to him with a raised eyebrow, but she was smiling.
"You didn't have to do that," she told him en route to the table. "Refills are free, so I always get the small size when I'm eating in." She slipped her bags under the table and added, "I appreciate the thought, though."
"Anytime," he said, half-wishing they'd picked a free-standing table instead of a booth so he could draw out a chair for her. He hadn't gotten to be one of the best hustlers in the city without knowing how to charm a lady, but a restaurant like this limited the options for sweeping her off her feet. Taking note of her idiosyncrasies, however, was still an option.
"So," he asked, "what was with the strawberry cheese request?"
"Oh, that," she laughed. "Well, I came across some free samples once at a store, so whenever I come to one of these places I ask just in case they break down and add it to the menu. It's really good, actually. I'd buy a wheel of it to use at home, but specialty items like that are so darn exprensive."
Nick thought about that. He liked a good bit of berry once in a while, so why not? Then he remembered that, now he was trying to put scams behind him, his finances were a little tigher than usual. Maybe when I get my first bonus check, he thought, assuming police get bonus checks.
They left their table briefly to fill up; Nick with a Koala Kola and Taelia with strawberry milk. It looked more and more like she had a regular plan for these things, because that took exactly the time that it took for their order to come up. Nick was impressed, and maybe that was why he paused at the condiment station to squeeze some extra hot sauce onto his sandwich.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Taelia. "I don't know if you know this, but the hot sauce here is kind of... intense."
Ah-ha, thought Nick, priding himself on being the last one to blink. "I've had their hot sauce," he assured her.
They sat down, and he waited smugly while she took a bite. Her cheeks bulged for a moment as she chewed; then she swallowed with maybe just a hint more effort than one would expect for the bite she took. Nick, in turn, took a bite of his own sandwhich.
AHHHHHH! The hot sauce was like pepper spray in the mouth! He grasped at his throat, trying not to spit out his mouthful, and then frantically started slurping at his soda.
"Nick, hold it!" Taelia cried. She snatched the soda away from him and offered her own drink instead. Confused but not really caring about details, Nick accepted the milk and drank.
"Don't chug it down," she advised. "Just hold it in your mouth; it'll calm down the hot sauce."
It took a lot of self-control to heed her advice, but, to his surprise, he found it worked. "Thanks," he said, breathing hard. "Whoo. I guess it's been a little too long since I had a gutburner special."
Taelia raised an eyebrow. "You know they changed their hot sauce, right? Customers were complaining it wasn't strong enough."
Nick wanted to smack himself in the face. "Thanks for the warning."
She laughed. "Well I did try," she pointed out, "but you were so casual about it I thought you knew."
Ouch. Then it occurred to him that he'd guzzled down most of her drink. "Sorry," he added, lifting the cup. "Uh, do you want this back? I can buy you another one."
She waved a paw dismissively. "No, let's just switch. This one's hardly been touched, and I think you'll need mine to polish off that sandwich. Besides, soda just makes anything acidic worse."
He gazed doubtfully at his chosen (very poorly chosen, in retrospect) lunch. Then, deciding he'd already sacrificed his dignity anyway, he went to the milk fountain for a top-off.
Nice one, Romeo, he thought to himself.
To Taelia's credit, she didn't laugh at what had happened to him – well, not much. "I've got to give you some credit," she admitted when, with great difficulty, he had finished his sandwich, "you're good at this."
He laughed, mostly to cover up the pain in his mouth. He wasn't sure it was possible, but he was fairly certain he'd have blisters on the roof of his mouth later. "Thanks." It occurred to him that Judy would have been reading him the riot act – albeit in a very caring way – for doing that to his insides. Only a day or two before, she had jokingly asked if he had chosen Clawhauser as his idea of a role model when he ate three doughnuts for lunch.
"Well, I guess I should be heading back home," Taelia remarked, picking up her bags.
"I'll walk you to your car," Nick offered, grabbing his own.
"Didn't bring one. My apartment's just a couple of blocks away."
Nick managed to talk her into letting him give her a lift – his thanks for the meal and for her not laughing too hard over the hot sauce. "It was fun," he said when she asked him again if he was feeling alright. Then when she gave him a major 'not buying it' look, he added, "Okay, the sandwhich wasn't fun, but that was my fault. Lunch was fun. We should do it again sometime."
She raised an eyebrow. "Is that your way of asking for my phone number?"
He smiled confidently. "I might have been thinking about that," he admitted.
"Well," she replied, slipping a card out of her shirt pocket, "I might have been thinking about giving it to you."
Nice, he thought as he accepted the card. She definitely had style, and not just when it came to banter. The paper stock wasn't quite top-grade, but the image – her name spelled out in flowing script and underlined by a red and orange electric guitar – was pretty eye-catching. Underneath the guitar was printed, "Sound Technician," and on the back it had her phone number and an e-mail address. Next to these she had hand-written "Best time: 7-10 PM" at some point when he wasn't looking – which couldn't have been an easy feat. She is good, he thought.
"I'll call you," he promised.
She rolled her eyes as he made a show of pulling out some shades and popping them on, but she waved as he pulled away. "See you later, Junior Detective."
He opened his mouth to correct her, then stopped. I could get used to it, he thought.
Taelia waved as he drove off. She'd learned the hard way not to make snap decisions when it came to tods, but she'd decided one thing: she'd be keeping an eye on this one.
And that's it for this chapter. I had received one note that Nick wasn't his usual funny self in the previous chapters, which in fairness was sort of the point, but I hope I got more of his comical side this time. As always, questions and comments are welcome. Don't forget to fave and follow if you want to see what happens next – speaking of which, what do you guys think of Taelia? How do you think Judy will react if/when she finds out? I'm also thinking of bringing Taelia's band in sometime if anyone has thoughts on that.
Quick FYI: In the real world, male foxes (particularly adults) may be known as foxes, tods, or dogs. For the purposes of my Zootopia fanfics, "Fox" will be semi-generic, like "man." "Dog" will suggest that the guy in question is a bit of a rascal. "Tod" will imply youthfulness or a sense of fun and energy, suggesting a teen or a lively adult like Nick.
Young foxes may be called "kits" or "cubs" interchangeably (I'll generally use "cub" for male or generic and "kit" for girls), and mature females are just known as vixens.
Also, I'm thinking about changing the title; any suggestions better than "Soemthing Stinks"?