The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 15

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 3 - Day of Carrots and Blueberries

(Continued...Pt. 7)

"Eeeyyeahh, gotcha bay-bay!"

Conor Lewis was whooping and throwing a fist in the air as he headed away from the sign-up table. He hadn't merely lucked out, he'd made out-like a bandit! Not two minutes before his arrival, another one of the talent show participants had cancelled, leaving open a precious Saturday evening space.

It could not have been more perfect if it had been a boon from heaven. Not only had the young fox sewn up a prime-time slot, but if he and Finnick hadn't sold all the t-shirts by then, it was never going to happen.

It was sheer luck too that Conor had brought along not only his electric six, (which he'd almost opted to leave behind,) but also his pedalboard and all his karaoke disks; the choice of tunes to play was wide open.

Strolling along the midway in the direction of Finnick's van, the young silver fox began whistling the melody from one of his favorite guitar piece; it seemed to fit the moment perfectly.

"When I feel I'm over-reacting, and I'm trying too hard,

If I feel I might need to...get out in the country...my friend."

Conor had always loved the song, 'Racing in A', but only now was he learning to truly appreciate it. This was his first time out in the country, (unless you counted Granite Point, and he didn't count that for fill dirt,) and it was just like the lyrics said; here was a place to drop your troubles, unwind, and clean out your head. Ohhhh, but the Burrows was so different from everywhere else he'd been, easygoing and laid-back, with none of the hard, electric energy he knew from back in Zootopia, and especially Zoo York City.

Hmmm maybe he should perform Racing in A at the show tomorrow night. No, no 'maybe' about it, that was the song, done and done. He wondered for minute if he could talk Finnick into staying over through Sunday. If the t-shirt sales went as expected, that might be doable.

He stopped and felt his ears stand up at a sound wafting through the air.

Well, speak of the devil-horns; someone, somewhere was getting seriously down on a bass guitar, and it was a bassline the young silver fox recognized, "Fursonal Cheeses' by Depeche Mole.

Conor stopped and cocked his head. Whoever was playing that bass, they were kicking it...really kicking it. Only where was the music coming from? Wait a sec, that old red barn over there? Yeah that was the place.

For a second the young fox hesitated. He had promised Finnick he'd be right back, but...ahhh, how long could a quick look-see take? Yeah, one quick look and then back to the van.

No sense trying the front door; he could see that one was a non-starter from fifty yards away, held shut a chain and padlock worthy of a city gate. No worries, there had to be some other way inside; that bass wasn't jamming on itself.

If the unseen bass player had bothered to close the door after entering the barn, Coor might never have found it-and the Carrot Days Festival might have ended very differently for both him and the phantom bassist.

But when the young silver fox scooted around the side of the barn, he found the door not merely open but hanging open. Quickly and quietly, he slipped inside.

There were lights on inside the barn, but it was still pretty dim compared to the exterior. He'd need to give his eyes time to adjust before moving on.

While Conor waited for his vision to come up to speed, the bass player shifted gears and changed songs. It was another tune he recognized; Mystery Achievement by the Purrtenders, another one with a strong bass line.

And this time there were vocals to go with the instrumentals.

"Mystery acheeeeeeeeeivemennnnnt....

Don't breathe down my neck, yeah."

Conor felt his ears prick up a second time. It was a girl playing the bass-close to his age by the sound of her voice-and day-ang, this kid had some PIPES, Annie Lynninx, Anne Wildeson, and whoever had sung the vocals on Pig Floyd's The Great Gig in the Sky, all rolled into one.

He decided that Finnick could live without him for just another minute or two, and began to thread his way between the tractors and towards the source of the music at far end of the barn.

When he finally made his way through to the front, the young fox found himself in a dark corner, over on the left side of the enclosure. Leaning back against a support column, he settled down on his haunches to watch the action.

Yep, the bass player was a girl all tight and she was his age too; she was also a rabbit and a very pretty one. (Even to himself, Conor knew better than to call a bunny cute.)

"Dangit why couldn't you be vixen?" the young fox asked her silently, immediately wondering where the heck THAT question had come from. That was when the young rabbit turned slightly on her heel and he got a good look at her eyes.

When he saw her, Conor didn't know whether to laugh or groan; why the heck would anyone want to do that to her face? It was like trying to improve a Van Gopher painting with a marking pen. What the heck, was she was trying for the emo-look? Well if she was, then she was way overdoing it the young fox swiftly decided; she should have only accented her eyes with black, not turned them into empty skull sockets.

Meanwhile the bunny had finished up on Mystery Achievement and was tuning up for another number. Conor felt the urge to get going again but managed to hold it in check.

He saw her count off a beat by snapping her fingers, 1...2...3...and then she launched into a tune that the young fox not only knew, but knew how to play, Red Barchetta by Brush.

As he listened to her performance Conor began to move his fingers over the strings and frets of an invisible guitar, unaware of what he was doing. He didn't know what was more surprising, an emo-girl playing a classic-rock tune or an emo girl playing a song that was more or less upbeat. (Of course Red Barchetta was also a tune about sticking it to the system, so it had that much going for it at least.) Well, whatever the bunny's reasons for picking that song, she was killing it on the vocals again. And now he saw that she was playing a five string bass, a fairly new one by the look of it. Conor was impressed; you didn't see many Rickenbarkers in that configuration, and you didn't see practically any kids that girl's age who knew how to play a five.

Dang, but he wished he had his Strat with him. Was she also in the talent show, he wondered?

When she finished Conor wanted to applaud, but somehow managed to restrain himself. (Why he felt the need to restrain himself, the young silver fox had no idea.)

Just then he heard the sound of a hunting horn and felt a buzzing at his hip. He shut his eyes and grimaced; that horn meant he had an incoming text-from Finnick no doubt, "Hey Kid, Where ARE You?"

He pulled out the phone and looked at the screen. The message header read. "Stop Premature Shedding For Good With This 100% Natural Product."

He growled silently and deleted the message.

When he looked up again, the emo bunny was right in his face.

"Hey you bushy-tailed creep, where do you think you get off, spying on me like that?"

Conor reeled backwards, nearly tripping over his own tail. Where the heck had SHE come from?

But then he quickly recovered. "Hey it's your own fault for crushing it like that." He said, trying his best to be diplomatic. "Conor Lewis." He added, offering her a paw.

Erin looked at the paw as if it were holding a mushy black banana, and then put her paws on her hips. "Don't give me that, Shifty. I saw you; you were practically slobbering all over the floor."

Conor blinked, and then stared, and then like a tent peg coming loose in a high wind, he felt his self-control beginning to give way. He hadn't been looking at her like that; no, of course he hadn't; she was a bunny, for cripes sake. No way, Renee!

He folded his arms and hardened his gaze.

"Got clue, kid?" He pointed to her, than to himself. "You bunny, me fox...Not. Possible."

"Duh, you're a fox," Erin Hopps wasn't backing down. Though she was a good two inches shorter than Conor, she seemed to be looming over him.

"What were you doing, hiding in the dark back there?' she demanded. "Were you stalking me?" Her face turned wickedly scornful. "Or maybe you were thinking about eating me."

Chunk! Whoops, there went another tent-peg. Conor felt his mouth stretch backwards into a long, foxy grin. "And always remember Mopsie, you asked for it."

"Nah," he said, flipping a pawlm, "No worries there, Babe. I hate, Hate, HATE the taste of spoiled rabbit."

That aughta get her, he figured, and he was right...but not for the reason he expected. Erin nearly came flying out of her fur

"I'm not your babe, creep-o!" she almost screamed, and Conor almost face-pawlmed himself.

"I could have headed straight back to the van after getting signed up for the talent show, but nooooooo...!"

"Cool your jets, willya bunny?" he said, "I'm from Zoo York City, you follow what I'm bringing out? Mammals call each other babe back there all the time." He shrugged. "Heck, back in Zoo York, GUYS call each other babe sometimes."

"Yeah, surrre they do." Erin sniffed derisively, lifting an ear and an eyebrow and having none of it, "Let me guess, Shifty. Back in Zoo York City, it's ALSO okay for a fox to call a bunny cute, am I right?"

Conor felt that grin slide over his face again.

"No." he said, speaking with silken, exaggerated formality, "I think I can safely say that if there's one bunny I'd NEVER call cute, it's you."

Erin blinked, and Conor saw her eye makeup begin to shed flecks of black around the edge. He hurriedly backtracked.

"Look," he said, raising a paw, and placing the other one over the center of his chest, "Ranger Scout's honor. I really did come in here coz I heard you playing bass, and I really do think you're that good. No kidding, and you've got an awesome voice, too. I'd love to jam with you sometime."

He immediately wondered where that last line had come from. "Seriously, I sing and play guitar myself." He added quickly.

The good news was Erin wasn't going to cry (and hadn't been anyway.) The bad news was that her face became a mask of contempt.

"No! WAY! I am not jamming with a three-chord creepazoid loser like YOU!" She spoke in the lofty voice of a queen dismissing a beggar.

Pop! Okay, that was it; there went the last tent-peg. Now Conor's face also became a mask-a portrait etched in innocence.

"Uh, then I guess a kiss is completely out of the question?"

Erin stared at him for moment...

"Aggggghhhh, grrrrr!"

Nick Wilde could have kicked himself right out of the Carrot-Days Festival. Before Judy had left, he should have arranged for a place where they could meet after he was done talking to Finnick. But he hadn't and now he had no idea where to find her-and forget about calling her cell; he'd already tried it-twice, and had gotten her voice-mail both times. Agggh, grrrrr...dumb, Dumb, DUMB fox. Of course the first place to look would be Gideon Grey's but where was that again? He'd forgotten already.

The problem, and Nick knew it, was that he wasn't used to being on such unfamiliar turf. Back in Zootopia there'd been no need to jot down instructions or memorize landmarks; he knew every street by heart. But here in Bunnyburrows at the Carrot Days festival, he might as well be in the Maze of Minos without a shred of string to his name.

But hrm, wait a second, there was that old red barn again. And wasn't there an information booth somewhere close by? Yes, there it was.

No, there it wasn't; it was a fruit stand, not an information booth, something called Luckyfoot Farm and Vineyards, and Gideon Greys's was that way. No it wasn't, it was this way. Like heck it was; it was that way. This way! That way! You shut up! No, YOU shut up!

At least it wasn't a total loss, Luckyfoot had some lovely red grapes for sale, and Nick happily bought a basket to go.

"A fox lives not by blueberries alone." he reminded himself as he popped the first one into his mouth. Mmmm, these were good, almost as good as....

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming on the other side of the barn, so hard it actually shook a layer of dust from the eaves. Curious, Nick went over, arriving just in time to see Erin Hopps come storming away from the back entrance, toting a guitar case and several pieces of gear-and muttering aloud to no one in particular.

"...little creep...thinks he's so....talk to ME that way...show him...smartmouth...!"

Nick stopped, staring. What the heck had gotten into HER?

Erin swung out onto the midway, gathering steam like an advancing freight train. She seemed to be heading right towards Nick, but no, the young bunny was looking right past him as if he wasn't there

He wondered if he should say anything, but then Erin beat him to the punch. Just as she was about to pass him by, she wheeled and let loose a furious rant.

"As if I'd ever kiss a FOX..."

And then she realized which species she was speaking to, "Ewwww!"

Thoroughly revolted, she turned and stalked on her way.

For a moment, Nick could only stare after her, too dumfounded to move. Was she....was she talking about what had happened between him and Judy in Rafaj Brothers' jewelers?

"No don't be ridiculous," he admonished himself at once. Who the heck would have told her...Carrots? No way, and no way could Erin have seen that surveillance tape either. It was police property and evidence in a pending case; any member of the ZPD who showed that thing around could clean out his or her locker right NOW.

So, what the heck...?

Nick's thoughts came skidding to a halt as a familiar scent teased his nostrils. There was another fox nearby and he knew who it was...and it explained a lot.

Judy could wait a few more minutes, he decided.

Nick reached the side door of the barn just in time to watch it swing open again and see a young silver fox emerging into the sunlight, rubbing the side of his face with his pawlm.

"Conor, what happened?" he asked.

The young fox looked away for a second, embarrassed. "Open mouth A, insert foot B." was all he said.

It was a cryptic explanation at best, but it filled in the gaps nicely. Nick was easily able to guess the rest...or enough of it anyway.

"I'd say it wasn't your foot that got inserted kid, and it was upside your head, not into your mouth." He spoke wryly to the young fox, and then in a more concerned voice, he said, "Are you okay?"

Conor waved off Nick's worries like a pesky fly.

"Ahhh, I've taken way worse hits than that." he said, and the older fox believed him. Now that they were alone he was able to study Conor Lewis a bit more closely. And what he saw was a mass of contradictions.

First of all, Conor was street, but he wasn't living on the street; he was too well dressed, too well groomed, and most importantly, much too clean for that. Street kids, the ones living out of boxes or under bridges only washed when the opportunity presented itself-which wasn't often-and they rarely, if ever used soap.

Then there was the fact that the kid was obviously too well fed for the role of a homeless fox-kit, and also too well built; his physique was lean, wiry, and taut as a bridge cable, a budding street-fighter not a street urchin. (That brought up another contradiction but Nick would get to it in a minute.)

No, Conor Lewis had a place to call home, Nick was sure of it, but where? He wasn't living with Finnick; the desert fox had pre-empted that notion when he'd said that he didn't know anything about Conor's background.

"Who the heck was that crazy rabbit anyway?" the kid asked suddenly and without warning. It was clearly meant as a rhetorical question, but Nick just happened to have the answer with him.

"Her name's Erin, Erin Hopps, she's Judy Hopp's younger sister."

"More like Sergeant Cowhorn's kid sister." The silver fox responded sourly, referring to the character in the Feral's Duty game. He rubbed his eye again and then looked at Nick. "Your partner Judy's sister, huh? Do me a favor, don't tell her what happened, 'kay?'

Suppressing a grin Nick started to nod. Of course the kid wouldn't want it known that he'd been clobbered by a girl, especially a bunny.

Only...Conor had said, 'Don't tell Judy' not, "Don't tell anyone', he wasn't afraid of being ridiculed if word of the incident got out, he just didn't want to get Erin in trouble.

And that brought up the other contradiction; for all her 'tough grrl' façade, Erin Hopps was still a country bunny with no experience in hard knocks, while Conor Lewis was just the opposite, a whipcord-tough, street-smart fox who knew his way around a fight; Nick was almost certain of it by now.

So, how the heck had Erin even connected with him? By rights, the young silver fox should have been able to dodge or parry her rabbit-kick as easily as a slow-pitch beach ball.

"All right, but what the heck DID happen?" Nick asked, knowing full well that Conor would have no choice but to tell him if he wanted the secret kept.

The kid seemed to know it too, repeating the story without any hesitation. Nick listened with mild interest at first-until Conor came to the (literal) punch line. Then he was unable to restrain himself any longer.

"You said that to her?" he burst out laughing. Making that kind of suggestion to a bunny like Erin Hopps was like letting off a skyrocket into hydrogen balloon; there will be an explosion.

"Listen kid," he said, assuming the role of the wise, older fox., "you might get away with a remark like that back in Zootopia, but in case you didn't notice, attitudes are little different in the Burrows."

"Hey, I'm vulpine, I got limits." The young fox protested, bracing up in a pose of youthful defiance. "and I wasn't looking at her like THAT, okay?"

"Okay," Nick nodded, conceding the point with a raised paw. At least the kid understood that he'd overdone it and besides, Erin hadn't exactly been blameless herself. He began to wish that he hadn't made that promise not to bring up the incident with Judy.

But he had made the promise, and so he wouldn't say a word. It was an ironclad rule of his species; a fox never betrays the trust of another fox-period!

He decided it was once again time for a graceful exit.

"Listen, I need to go find Judy. Do you know where Gideon Grey's pie stand is?"

Conor settled down for a second and scratched at an ear with his leg.

"Ahh, it be easier to show you than tell you big guy; I gotta head in that direction anyway; Finnick's gonna be looking for me."

He turned and beckoned for Nick to fall into step besides him. Okay, if that was the case, they might as well talk some more.

Nick popped another grape in his mouth and then asked, "So I'm guessing you're from Zoo York, is that right?" He figured it was a safe enough inquiry.

"Heyyy, how'd youse guess?" the kid answered smartly in an exaggerated Barklyn Irish accent. "Yeah that's right. From the Island to be exact." He was referring to Long Island.

"Not the Humptons, I'm guessing?" Nick ventured, with a small, sly grin of his own.

Conor laughed. "Yeah, like I'd really be peddling T-shirts if I came from that neighborhood."

Nick laughed along with him and scarfed another couple of grapes.

But then he found himself at a loss over what to say next. He had plenty of questions for the kid, but none that would get any answers that weren't either evasive or outright dishonest.

"You know if Erin is playing in the talent show?" the young fox asked, abruptly and without looking at it him.

Nicks ears began to work in confusion and he almost stopped in his tracks. Conor's question had been phrased casually...very casually, but still it had come like bolt from the blue.

"Uhm yeah, she's on tonight about 7:30." He said, and then remembered something. "Oh you know, I never asked, did you get a slot to perform?"

"Yeah!" the young fox answered eagerly, "Got a great one too; tomorrow night at 8. Someone else canceled."

"Good for you." Nick offered Conor a fist bump which the silver fox heartily returned. He was still curious about the kid's question though. Was he planning to go and watch Erin Hopps's performance? After the encounter he'd just had with her, that made about as much sense as air conditioning in Tundratown. Still, the red fox couldn't purge the notion from his head.

He decided to test the waters a little.

"You really think Erin's that good?" he asked, "Honestly I haven't heard her yet."

"Kicks tail," the young fox told him, and Nick was surprised to hear that it wasn't grudging concession. "She plays a killer bass and what a voice. Blow-u-way, fawx."

Okay, he was planning to go and watch her, Nick decided-and as if reading his mind, Conor confirmed it...sort of.

"I might go check her out I guess, if we're done with the T-shirts by then." he said, shrugging, and then surprised Nick yet again. "I guess I should go and apologize, but she'd prolly only smack me again." He added, mournfully.

Nick Wilde felt his ears falling backwards and face pinching up in bewilderment. What the heck was going on with this...? Wait no, it couldn't be that...could it?"

And that was when a door opened in the red-fox's psyche and a memory walked in, Tundratown, The Thaw, the dance floor, that first time; it should have a painful recollection, and yet it made him smile.

"Don't let it bother you too much, kid." He said, "I remember this one time at a club when I met a girl fox I liked, and..."

"Hold it, hold it. Time out. Full! Complete! Stop!"

Conor had halted in his tracks and was forming a 'T' with his paws. His ears had turned sideways, and his neck fur appeared to be spiking.

Then he turned and his burning-amber eyes were boring straight into Nick's

"First of all, Erin's a bunny, not a vixen 'kay? Let's get that outta the way right now. Number two, even if she was a fox, she's still a stuck-up, snotty little hormone monster. Seriously, I wouldn't take her to a cockroach fight if she was the top-ranked contender!"

"Okay, okay." Nick took a step backwards, stung by the younger fox's unexpected fury. At a loss for any other response, he settled on a peace offering.

"Want some grapes?" he said holding out the basket with his other paw.

Conor craned his neck and then shook his head.

"Uhhh, no thanks; those things look way sour."

The next thing he said was, "Okay, what?"

"Mmmm, nothing." Nick answered, looking away quickly so the kid couldn't see him trying not to laugh.

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Author's note, Erin Hopps.

Erin Hopps has been through a lot of changes since her introduction in an earlier series of stories. Originally she was a corsac fox named Erin Marsh, and much more insecure than she is in her current incarnation; originally she was a nice girl who hung out with the popular girls as at school. Very much against her nature, she often went along with some of the popular girls nastier escapades in order to win their acceptance. The leader of the popular girls, a lynx named Amanda Kaine sometimes made Erin her tool.

I was never entirely comfortable with Erin's personality in that incarnation. She was too much like the damsel who only needs the right guy in her life to put things right. When I decided to introduce her into the Fire Triangle Story line she became a much more independent character, an arctic vixen who is much closer in character to who she is now. Once again, I wasn't satisfied; she was too much of a walk-on character who wasn't really all that important to the story.. Changing her to a bunny and making her Judy's younger sister would, I felt, allow her to become a much more integral part of the plot

Erin's current persona takes a lot of inspiration from the 'Hormone Monstress' episodes of the Netflix series Big Mouth. (And in fact there's an Easter-egg reference in one of Conor's lines.) If you haven't seen Big Mouth, check it out; it's screechingly funny-but be warned, a lot of what's in this series is NSFW, use of the F-word, to cite one example.

One thing that's always remained constant about Erin is her singing voice; she's always been able to belt it out, and will continue to do so in the future.