And as I post this, realized that I didn't give her eye protection.

Before morning briefing and a little socializing among the officers. Nichole was in early to give Allen Whitehorse a talking to.

"So, what did you do to my roomie, Whitehorse?" Nichole not quite growled. And not her playful or joking intonation.

"Ah, nothing, Ma'am!" the Young wolf gulped. "She just stayed over at my place."

"And why did she do that?" Nichole was in pure mother bitch mode, and as much as she knew he was a pretty good boy, she smelled an awful lot of Celeste on him.

"We went out last night to celebrate our going active, and then back to my place to hang out. Then it got late, so figured it'd be easier to just stay overnight."

"And that is all you did?" Nichole gave him a particularly deep sniff in emphasis.

Allan's ears reddened, "We, ah, groomed. Nothing more. Honest."

'But you sure wanted to do more, eh?"

"But I'd never even try anything with her, especially just starting out like this." He grimaced, mostly in embarrassment, "She's really cute," And he paused, then confessed, "So I do think of her in those ways, who wouldn't? But I'm no rutting dog, Ma'am. Not with her or anyone."

Nichole had issues with males and sex, but she had to admit he was almost as earnest a ranger scout as her Bunny Boy, so probably treated the little Coyote like a princess. A quality of attention that she so needed after her rather sparse life. Besides, if they had gone any further, she would have known. A good nose is a joy forever.

"Okay. But if she ever comes home with so much as a single tear in her eye..."

The look he gave her, not of fear, but of dismay, of the notion that he would ever hurt her in any way, pretty much sealed the deal.

Nichole relented, a bit. "Mother Nikkie approves." But her tone was still a warning. "And remind her to CALL if she's not coming home at a reasonable hour." Not like she wasn't going to get all worried mother on the little Coyote tonight after work.

Nichole had been worried, not so much about her and the Wolf, but about how hazardous the streets could be for any smaller female of any species. Celeste did have some level of physical wherewithal to defend herself, but she didn't yet have the urban savvy to avoid situations to her liking.

Which reminded her of the day's expected 'fun'. With Julius tied up with his darting hearing and related official red tape, she had the day to take care of some special business of her own.

The ZPD headquarters had a full shooting range in the sub-basement, including a stress fire obstacle course and she needed to qualify. This was no simple barrier and silhouette walk through, there were any number of obstacles to navigate and painfully realistic pyrotechnics to simulate return fire. And the goal was unscripted, she'd have to assess the situation and make her best guess as to what was need to do.

While she did have on eye protection, she had only minimal earplugs, enough to insure no permanent injury, but not enough to dampen the unpleasantness of the shots.

She chose a compact revolver, dirt simple and reliable, only five shots for size, though the hottest loads she felt comfortable to handle from her straight range experience. Four speed loaders and a pocket full of loose rounds. Of course there was no knowing how long the test was for or what the 'victory' conditions were.

Fifteen minutes later, panting and frazzled, with three rounds left, the range buzzed completion. After the better part of a year invested in this whole 'become a cop and make the world a better place', this was now the one time she really, really closest to quitting on the spot.

She cleared her weapon, surprised she was able to do so without shaking, and pulled her eyes and ears off, she went to the exit, where the range master and Bogo waited.

"How many quit after this?" She hissed, pointing back to the nightmare she'd just gone through.

"A couple, actually, but mostly they give up on the carry, due to disqualification for the most part." The range master observed. "I've had a few try the course, just to see if they can hack it, and they usually live to regret it."

"So? How did I do?" Nichole tried shaking herself out, her whole body seemed to be jangling for all the shooting and stress.

"Better than most. Three rounds left, much better than most. And you didn't die very often; there was an IR laser spotter to go with the return fire. You did very good for cover and evasion."

Bogo added, "These courses are based on actual worst case situations, and you felt how immersive they got." He wasn't going to say how one of them included his worst day as a young patrolbeast.

"Yeah, nothing like feeling like I'm about to really get killed adding to the verisimilitude." She puffed. "So, did I make it?"

The range master smiled apologetically, "Oh yeah. No problem. Though, ultimately, it was less about winning the course as it was coping with it. Being merely a bit rattled at the end is just fine."

"Still want it?" Bogo asked.

Nichole made a face. She'd just gotten through a shooting sequence worst than any she'd actually likely confront in a whole career. And the odds were that she'd never actually need it. But she was determined that she was going to be ready for the unthinkable.

"Sign me up."

"You're good to go then." Bogo had her temporary permit with him already.

She took it and looked at it for a long moment. She then reloaded the piece and put it in her back carry holster. She then retrieved and reloaded her speed loaders and put them in one of her tactical belt pouches. "Thanks."

As there was always some kind of paperwork to keep a body busy, she spent the rest of the day at her desk, waiting for Julius to get through the hearing.

And then, there he was.

"So, Officer Hopps, how did it go?"

"They've deemed me safe to go out in public again after all."

"That's a relief. So, back in the saddle for tomorrow?"

"Apparently so." Julius considered a moment, "Up for a little celebratory diner?"

"Normally, I'd say yes to any opportunity to mooch off your generosity, but I'm going to call it an early and uneventful night. Again." She'd already begged off their first day of duty celebration.

Julius baby pouted for a moment, then, "Yeah. You look like you could use a snooze."

Nichole harrumphed, "What, think the old lady can't hack it?"

"Not that so much, but I know how stressful range time can be. I might not have a canid grade sniffer, but you've been making noise today."

"You caught me. Still getting used to real fire arms."

"Yeah. Kind of glad we don't have to carry on a regular basis."

He was still very much a little ranger scout, too earnest and innocent for the job in her estimation. The ZPD prided itself on its non-lethal procedures and had a long history of success, for the most part. But scary bad folk were not so restrained. Though to be honest, while nearly no one in the force carried on a regular basis, the actual need for a real firearm and the application of deadly force was also next to never. But only next to never.

They bade each other good night and Nichole was on her way home. Before coming active, she'd assumed she'd be changing out of her uniform before going off duty, but instead she found that she thought it important to be visible as a fox in uniform as much as possible. And as she was a thoroughly wicked person, anything she could do to shock the population, like being a fox in uniform, was all the better.

Tonight, however, she was all too aware of that extra bit of mass on her body, and while she didn't like it, she was prepared to carry that weight.

"Before you say anything, I already heard it from Allen, so I don't need the worried mom act too." Celeste whined as Nichole entered their apartment.

"Well, with a welcome like that, I guess I need not share these scrumptious bug burritos." Nichole responded archly.

At that, Celeste went into total little kit whine, which included rather loud coyote yips.

"A'right! Anything to shut you up. Gah, you must have been terrible as a real little kit." Nichole relented, tossing her a burrito.

Celeste laughed, "I was a quiet and obedient child, I'll have you know."

"Was it the deep sigh of disappointment? Or the sad furrowed brow, that kept you in line?" Nichole knew something about parental techniques.

"He'd make me invisible." Celeste didn't talk about her Uncle all that much. Not that it was a poor relationship, just a bit stilted, as he apparently had no parenting skills at all. He fed her and taught her a trade, as a simple responsibility rather than out of any familial affection. "I had to have done something pretty bad to get it, but to get invisibled..."

Nichole considered the little coyote, not for the first time. She was such an anomalous thing in so many ways. Coyotes were rather uncommon in the region to begin with. Then she had such an unorthodox upbringing, raised by an eccentric roaming mechanic uncle.

He'd taught her to read himself, then set her loose in whatever library was near the work of the moment. She learned math in the practical operations of a machine shop, and some things of life while among the machinists and mechanics her Uncle worked with. Arguably not the best environment for a little girl, but between that and her bibliophilia, she had an unusually eclectic background that had held her in good stead since.

"So, how'd Hopps' hearing go?"

"Got off. He'll be back menacing the public tomorrow. I just hope we don't get visibility foot patrol again."

"Uh? I would have thought you guys would be loving it?"

"Yeah. Half the crowd doesn't believe we're even real cops. And those who do think they can diss us for our size and species. That's what caused the thing yesterday to begin with." She wasn't going to mention the additional whammy of being a female. Sexism wasn't that big a thing, for the most part, but being a 'vixen' had several extra layers of baggage to it.

"And you, how's your ticketing going?"

Celeste made a face. "It's like everyone was being a responsible citizen today. Didn't get fifty for the whole day."

The Coyote's nose did a little twitch. "Were you on the range today?"

Nichole cringed, "Yeah, about that. I want you to swear, absolutely and for serious, never to even hint about this to Hopps." She undid her carry holster and held it out; the compact revolver was plainly visible. "Got my final clearance today."

Celeste was stunned. "You got a carry piece?" Then she realized an added detail, "A concealed carry?" Regular officers on regular patrol simply didn't carry side arms. Darters and stunners for sure, but only under extraordinary circumstances did a cop have a firearm on his or her hip.

"Remember my not mentioning why I joined the force?"

'Yeah....?"

"It's for Hopps." And she sat down with a sigh. "That little ranger scout has somehow survived so far, but..." She gripped the gun. "He's too earnest, too good for this damned city. And it wouldn't hesitate in killing him given half a chance." Her tail lashed in frustration.

Celeste gave Nichole a look. "First, I know you now well enough to know you're up to you eyeballs in 'protect and serve'. What does Hopps call it- making the world a better place?" She sat down besides the Vixen, "And you don't give him enough credit. He's been on the force for a year now without you."

Nichole growled, "I know. But..." She drew the pistol out and cleared it of ammo, then held it out for Celeste to examine. "I've seen so much shit, so many good mammals ground down by the city. And I don't want to not be there for him."

Celeste hefted the piece. Tested the action. Handed it back with the cylinder out. She didn't carry, was never expected to, but had been trained for the safe handling of most types. "I think I'd like to try the seven mil Mak." She had somewhat larger paws and could handle the larger gun. "I think I understand. But it's still quite a thing."

Nichole reloaded and put the piece away. "I'm worried for you too, ya know."

"Me? The delicate ingénue? I may not be as street smart, but I suspect I might be teamed up with Jefferson. He's a cougar, a concolor, fifteen years on the beat. If someone like him can't give me cover, I don't know who can."

Nichole didn't know Jefferson, but her experiences with those big cats did put her at ease a bit. They were smart, for cats, though they also tended to be loners. "Will you be alright with him?"

"We already met. He's originally from the territories, before my time, but we do have some small background in common. Should be fine."

A little later, Nichole's thoughts were still a tumult, and with it, physical tension. "Celeste. Major favor time?"

"Old lady needs a rub?"

"Please? And would you mind making it a real back-breaker?"

"You okay?"

"Had a lot on my mind, and it's all gone into my muscles."


Nichole showed up the next morning looking very sharp and ready for the street. She had on her tactical body suit and the full tactical vest instead of the abbreviated torso armor. Clauhauser saw her and his eyes all but popped.

"Wow, Nichole, you look like you're ready for war!"

She badly mimicked a rough tough drill sergeant voice, "Arh! That's right! I'm locked and loaded for the war on crime, troop!" Then broke into a gentle smile, "Just wanted to try on the suit and see how well it actually works." Then confided, "I was feeling a bit naked out there in just my duty blues."

"Yeah, a lot of the guys go though adjustments in what and how they suit up for the beat." He gave her a couple head cocking looks, "The torso armor would give you a bit more .." And he made an hourglass gesture with his paws.

Nichole feigned shock at the sexist talk, "You boys are just terrible!"

Clauhauser recoiled in mock surprise, then continued with his assessment. "But the full vest is likely more practical, you don't have to carry everything on your belt."

"Yeah." And she though about her carry, hidden in the back of the vest. But on to brighter things. "Say, have you got any hints for the duty today?"

"Bluh, the Chief keeps that to himself or the watch commander until the briefing." Clauhauser considered, "But after your thing and the social media attention, I'd bet in-car for the both of you until things calm down a bit."

"That I can deal with. Oh, and that's a detail I've wondered about." Nichole mused, "How bad was Hopps' media attention once he was rehabilitated?"

"Oh, it was terrible for a while, we had to sneak him out the various side exits or in one of the cruisers least the press swarm him." The big cat shook his head. "Poor bunny, hated the attention and was, if anything a bit confused by it. He really thought it was just a job well done, didn't see the big picture well enough. And he still had a bit of guilt about his earlier bit. Was happy to see me reinstated here at the desk, but I could see him cringe just a bit for months afterwards."

"Yeah. That's our Bunny Boy." Nichole shrugged. "At least there's no actual newsies out there clamoring for the big scoop on the dreaded pickpocket and interference case." Then she saw him approaching the front doors, "And there he is, Love ya." And she blew Clauhauser a kiss before sauntering over to intercept Julius.

"Don't you look like the urban warrior today." Julius gave Nichole an appraising once over. She really did look like something in her tacticals.

Nichole looked at Julius' outfit with just a touch of dismay; it was just his duty blues. She didn't want to say anything, but her face betrayed her concern.

"Don't worry, 'Mom', I'll have my vest on too when we go out." Julius rolled his eyes at her. He waved to Clauhauser and headed to the bullpen.

As predicted, Hopps and Wilde got traffic patrol to give them some distance from the smart 'phone crowds.

"So, who's driving?"

"You can't be serious?"

"I know the city."

"As a pedestrian or on public transit. You drive like a nervous old ewe."

To that Nichole huffed. The Bunny Boy was grudgingly right; she was not a well-practiced driver. She'd gone through the academy driver-training course, and was not going to reveal how poorly she'd done. "And how can I not get any better without any practice?"

"Tell you what, let's see how the day goes, and then we can risk swapping out?"

Nichole pouted but only for a moment. She could play with the cruiser's data system and keep an eye on all the street action while Julius drove.

And so it went. A couple moving violations, equipment write-ups, a jaywalker, even a couple very badly parked cars. Nothing serious or obnoxious. Then.

"Is that car parked in the street?" Julius observed a hot red muscle car apparently stopped in the lane just ahead. No, it was creeping along at a less than walking pace. Nichole called up the plate.

She made a small, knowing smile. "Oh, poor Dash. Let's pull him over and I'll talk to him, but this might take a while."

Julius hit the lights and got directly behind the car. Nichole got on the loud speaker, "Alright, hot shot, pull over!"

And over the next minute, the car inched over to the curb. Julius began to fume. "What the hailstones?!"

"Relax Carrots. Like I said, I'll talk to him, but you might want to, I dunno, take a nap or something."

Julius watched as Nichole talked to the driver at some length, then came back to consult with him. "Flash is an old friend and I'd like to drive him back home. He knows he really shouldn't be out on the street, but he just wanted a little taste."

Then Julius saw the driver begin to exit the vehicle. "A Sloth!?"

"Yeah. He's a great guy, actually, a motor head wannabe. He even has a special permit to drive slow, like it was heavy equipment, with restrictions on when and where. Technically, he's legit right now, though forgot to put his hazards on. I want to give him a little speed time and then back to his place."

"You, speed time?"

"Well, even my driving is hotter than anything he can do, and we can catch up while we do it. It has been a while. You can escort me." She gave him her best 'give the guy a break' pleading smile.

"Well, it has been a quiet day, so what the heck."

Then Julius spent the next way too many minutes waiting for the sloth, who's name was actually Fabio Escobar, to get out of the driver's side and around to the passenger side of the car. Using the cruiser's data system, he then looked up the natural history of sloths, the historic range of sloths, the various national origins of sloths and the surprisingly large body of art by and about sloths. Then, Nichole signed that she was ready to go.

And Julius spent a leisurely better part of an hour following Nichole as she cruised though downtown, then onto the beltway and through some rather nice picturesque byways in the Rain Forest district. Finally, arriving back on the other side of the block where they first saw the red racer. Nichole pulled the car into a garage then got out, holding the door for 'Flash' to get out. A final chat, and she came back.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Nichole beamed as she got back into her seat.

"I have to admit that for the first, half hour or so, it was all WTF, but yeah, it wasn't so bad." Julius conceded. "And your driving wasn't all that awful, at least this time." And he had to admire her calm patience and courtesy in a situation that would have likely enraged him all too early on, being too hyper for such.

"So I get to drive next- "

The comm did an emergency squawk, and dispatch calls, "Officer needs assistance!"

"Which way!" Julius cinches his restraints tighter.

"Straight and then a right at the light!" Nichole has the data display out and is ready to serve as navigator.

The Bunny stomps on the gas and the Fox is unpleasantly reminded how much power the cruiser really had. And how agile he can maneuver such a massive vehicle through traffic. She white-knuckles her way through the ride, calling out turns, and belatedly 'eeping' as he prenaturally seemed to avoid hitting anything or anyone.

They rolled up on the scene as it's called out as secured. Along with the breath of relief that the crisis was over, Nichole had to give Julius a look. "How did you DO that?"

"On the farm we kits needed to learn how to drive early, and there was plenty of private roads and paths to learn on before we ever became street legal." He said, simply enough. "And as there were always other kits underfoot all the time, we got used to looking for and anticipating potential hazards and such."

Nichole considered the trip for a second, then conceded, "Okay, you get to drive."