The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 83

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Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

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The Fire Triangle—A Zootopia Fanfiction

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Part One:

Fuel

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Chapter 9 –Fire And Mirrors
(Continued...Pt. 10)

"Long time, no see, Booby,"

The small, affable voice spoke up from about a foot to the left of Nick Wilde's elbow...and the fox jumped nearly four feet in the air. Wha...? Where the heck had HE come from?

Nick had been standing at a sink in the Pizzeria Pianeta Male's Room, rinsing soap-suds from his paws. (It had long been his contention that pizza wasn't pizza if it didn't leave your fingers at least a little bit greasy,) and then all of a sudden—bang, out of nowhere!

Looking down and to the left...yep, there he was, the red fox's former attorney, parked on the edge of the rodent-size sink- basin next to his. He was buffing his paws over his face and head, the way rats will do when cleaning themselves.

Finishing up, Vern Rodenberg angled a twinkling eye upwards at Nick.

"Well? Say something, already...even if it's only, 'Get Your Pawpsicles!"

Nick tried not to laugh, he really did give it his best effort...but it was no use; the best he could manage was to choke his laughter down to a snigger, bracing his paws against the sink counter, and hissing through clenched teeth.

"Honestly Nick," the grey rat was shaking his head; he'd had his fun and now it was time to get serious, "What the heck made you ask me why I took on that silver-fox kid as a client? You, of all mammals, should have known you weren't going to get an answer."

"Yes, I knew that," Nick felt suddenly as if this day was taking forever, "but I had to try; I'm going to have to face you from the witness stand, now."

"Yeah-h-h, about that," Rodenberg studied his incisors in the mirror for a second; Nick wasn't fooled, the grey rat was trying to hide his embarrassment. Then he turned and looked up again. "Nick, I wish to God it had been any other cop on the force besides you that got bitten by my client—because when it's my turn to start asking questions, I'm going to pound you."

Nick must have looked horrified at this, because Rodenberg immediately raised his paws. "Nothing fursonal Booby, I always liked you...and nobody's happier than I am at how you turned your life around." He stopped and raised a finger above his head, in the gesture his former client knew oh-so-well. "But my first duty is, was, and always will be to the client I'm representing right now—and if hammering on you is what I have to do to bring in an acquittal for Conor Lewis, make no mistake, I'll do it."

At this revelation, Nick's ears shot upwards in confusion, but not for any reason that the grey rat might have surmised.

"What, you're...happy that I joined the ZPD?" He was staring incredulously at the grey-furred rodent. "I'm surprised you didn't throw something and call me 'traitor' when you saw me just now." Vernon J. Rodenberg's attitude towards law enforcement officials was a matter of public record.

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