The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 41

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 4 - The Wizard of Chaos

(Continued...Pt. 10)

From the moment he got in the truck, Nick Wilde knew that this wasn't going to be one of his better evenings.

"Where's Judy?" he asked. (She'd been out of the door well ahead of him, as always.)

"She's riding with Jack LaPeigne," Stu informed the fox, barely glancing at him.

Nick tried not to groan; this was how it had been ever since they'd returned from the hospital. Nobody had given him any dirty looks, no feet had thumped at his approach; no one had spat the word, 'fox!' under their breath whenever he'd walked by.

But no one had looked him in the eye either, and whenever a member of the Hopps Family had spoken to him, their manner had been invariably formal and gallingly polite. Only moments ago, for the first time since his arrival, Nick had gotten lost in the Hopps Family Warren because no one had been available to give him directions. The most infuriating part of it all was hearing the same, constant refrain from every bunny he encountered, 'No, nothing's wrong.'

As if to give the lie to that statement once and for all, right then the door to the Hopps Family Farm truck opened and little Cotton started to climb in. Stu immediately turned to her.

"Sweetie, why don't you go ride with your mother?"

The little bunny thumped her foot, "But I wanna sit with Nick."

Her father looked at her with a raised ear. "Cotton? 1...2..."

She was gone before he could get to three.

Nick wanted to say something but knew he wouldn't-because he also knew that he had it coming. His little faux-pas with the fire hose had nearly gotten him and Judy killed, to say nothing of all the property damage he had caused, in the four-figure range, at least. And no one had forgotten it, least of all her parents. Oh sure, he had meant well by his actions, but what was that saying about the road to Hell again? Only his partner had stood by him in the aftermath of that near catastrophe.

"They'll get over it Nick, give them time." Judy had told him

That may have been so, but for now, it was driving the poor fox crazy. Open hostility, he could have handled that; he'd been dealing with it all his life. But this maddening, 'everything's-fine-now-do-you-mind?' treatment was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

And now Judy was riding with that other bunny, the one who'd saved them both; this was not going to be a good evening.

What made it worse, ironically enough, was that the cold-shoulder attitude Nick was getting from everyone wasn't a species thing. The Hopps family was still treating Conor Lewis like an honored guest, Finnick too.

Come to think of it, where were they?

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"There you are, wake up already!"

Conor stirred and sat up quickly. For a moment he had no idea where he was. "Wha...? This isn't Zootop...oh yeah, riiight."

He turned and settled on the edge of Adirondack chair where he'd fallen asleep, yawning, and raising his arms in a V-stretch. Six feet away he saw Erin Hopps doing the same; hmmm, so she had dozed off too.

"Mmmmmm what time is it?" the young rabbit asked, slowly flexing her arms and shoulders...while Conor wondered. why do girl bunnies look so cute when they do that?

"Almost seven," Finnick informed her in that deep, gravel-filled voice of his, "Now..."

That was as far as he got; Erin was instantly and fully awake.

"What...? Oh, no, we'll miss the big dance! Has everybody left yet? I can't go dressed like this, I have to change first!" She was already starting to panic; the hormone fairy must have paid her a little visit while she was sleeping, Conor decided.

"Easy, easy," Finnick was making reassuring motions with his paws and shooting a quick warning glance at his partner, (who hadn't been planning on saying anything; yeeks, did DF think he wanted Erin's foot planted upside his face a second time?) "I got my van out front, you won't miss nothin', just go get changed like you said, you too Conor."

The white-furred bunny was out of her seat like a shot. Conor Lewis was not quite so motivated

"Hey, wait a minute, we haven't eaten yet!" His stomach was already sending up distress flares...all the way into his throat.

"There'll be plenty to eat at the dance," Erin called over a shoulder just before disappearing through the door.

Conor expected her to take forever to get ready, but he barely had time to throw on some fresh underwear, before he heard her pounding at the door.

"Come on Silver-boy, get a move on!"

"Cool yer jets already, Snowdrop," he snapped, "I'll be out in a second, okay!"

Ignoring her response, ("I told you not to call me that!") Conor made a quick inventory of his wardrobe selection. Not much to choose from; he and Finnick had originally planned to head home after the T-shirts were sold. He finally decided on a stripped down version of the outfit he'd worn on his first day in Bunnyburrow; cargo pants, checked shirt and an apple cap, but this time with a belt instead of suspenders; nothing fancy but at least it was clean, courtesy of the Hopps family's laundry room.

When he opened the door, ("About TIME, fox!") he found Erin waiting in jeans and simple plaid shirt in dark red, rolled up at the sleeves. (No wonder it had taken her practically no time at all to get dressed.) It was an almost amazing transformation; she had never looked more like a farmer's daughter than she did right now.

"You look nice." He said.

"Yeah, thanks, now come on, let's GO!" she said, and grabbed his wrist, practically dragging him down the hallway.

When they got out front, almost everyone else had already left for the dance, including Nick, Judy, and another rabbit the young silver fox didn't know had been here-and whom he didn't ever want to see again.

Just as he had promised, Finnick's trusty van was there waiting for them near the front. They all but threw themselves inside of it and then the desert fox fired up the engine.

They were a half mile down the road before something occurred to Conor Lewis.

"Waitaminnit, what am I even doing here? I don't wanna go to any dumb, stupid dance!"

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In another vehicle, perhaps a mile up ahead of them, Jack LaPeigne was turning to speak to Judy Hopps. Like her sister, she was dressed in a simple farm-girl outfit, in fact, the same jeans and pink shirt she'd worn on the day she'd returned to Zootopia, looking for Nick Wilde. Jack too was wearing only jeans and flannel shirt. Being Burrow born and bred himself, he knew that the Big Dance had originally been 'The Big Barn Dance'. And though the event had long since outgrown any barn in the Tri-Burrow area, the unofficial dress-code still remained.

Ever since they had left the hospital something had been eating at Judy-she was the only member of the Hopps Family not treating the big rabbit like a conquering hero-and her mood had followed them into his car, immediately becoming the proverbial elephant in the room; the opulence of the big bunny's ride seemed to make no impression at all upon her. (Of course that would most likely have been her response anyway, something Jack found oddly impressive.)

At first, the big rabbit had wisely held his tongue. But now, in a moment of epiphany, he thought he understood what was bothering his companion.

"Let me guess, you're not happy about my bringing Dr. Honeybadger here, is that it?"

The directness of his inquiry caught Judy completely off guard; she had expected that in the unlikely event he even brought up the subject, he'd either ease into it slowly or tiptoe around the edges first; certainly he wouldn't confront it head on.

As she was just now finding out, that was precisely Jack LaPeigne's way of dealing with difficulties, face-to-face and no distractions; small wonder then that he was such a successful businessmammal.

But even so...

"No Jack, I'm unhappy that she's even working for you at all. Just because she never went to jail..."

"Yes, I know," the big bunny answered immediately. His tone was weary rather than defensive, "All I can say is, without her expertise, we'd never have developed the Nighthowler antidote as quickly as we did." He pulled at an ear, "Oh we would have had figured out it eventually, but it would have been a much longer process...and those predators Mayor Bellwether darted didn't have any time to waste." He turned to look straight at her for a second, "There's one thing Dr. Honeybadger didn't tell you about Nighthowler Judy, an animal darted with it can survive for only a short period of time, a month, six weeks at most, depending on their species; after that they begin to die of adrenal failure." He closed his eyes for a second, letting out a hiss of air between his teeth. "The body simply can't take living in a state of constant savagery for any longer than that."

Judy gasped, she hadn't known that until just this second. She wondered for a moment why Dr. Honeybadger hadn't said anything about it.

She immediately wanted to face-pawlm herself. Why should Dr. H. have said anything? That was the last thing her family would have needed to hear; she could just imagine her mother's reaction if she'd been told that Uncle Terry was living on borrowed time...even it was more than enough borrowed time to save him.

Jack went on. "Bringing in Dr. Honeybadger to help us find the Nighthowler antidote was one of the most distasteful decisions I've ever had to make, Judy." He turned and looked at her again, "That's right, it was my decision; the board of directors kicked it up to me." His face took on a look of disdain, "And I still don't trust that honey-badger, you better believe that; even now, LPN Security watches her like a hawk 24/7." His shoulders moved uneasily, "Just the same, with lives hanging in the balance, I felt I had no choice but to bring her on board."

A knot of guilt formed in Judy's throat at this unintentional reminder of her own past sins. When she'd needed to know who commissioned Duke Weaselton to steal those Nighthowler bulbs, hadn't she made a similar compromise? Who was she to judge Jack LaPeigne for the hard choices he had made? And she hadn't known before that Nighthowler poisoning was lethal in the long run; it put everything in a new light.

"I guess at some point we've all had to make choices we didn't like." She told him, praying silently that he wouldn't ask her to elaborate.

He didn't; he just let out a sigh of relief.

"I was hoping you'd understand." He said. Judy smiled and patted his paw.

"I do," she said; her ire over the honey-badger's presence in the Burrow was at last beginning to ebb.

When they got to the vendor's gate, this time, there was no delay. By now everyone and their aunt in Bunnyburrow knew about the big rabbit who'd so heroically faced down the other bunny gone savage. (The word spreads fast in farming communities.) Lucas 'Lucky' Jackson not only let Jack's car pass immediately, he actually sat up on his stool and saluted.

It was a fortunate thing too; the regular lot was already full to overflowing, with the excess vehicles spilling out along the roadside from here to Podunk and back again. Both Jack and Judy were pleased. After the horrible events of that morning they'd both been afraid that the Big Dance floor would be nearly empty tonight; there had even been a rumor circulating that it might be canceled altogether. Instead, it looked like every family in Burrow County, and then some was here, as if in direct defiance of that suggestion.

That prompted a chuckle from Jack LaPeigne, followed by an observation.

"Typical Burrow bunnies, eh Judy? 'No savage rabbit is going to keep me away from the Big Dance!'"

Judy laughed and clapped her paws. Oh yes, he was from around here all right.

Inside the Festival Amphitheater, the chairs had been cleared from the seating area to create a rectangular dance floor, with benches and tables skirting the periphery. Behind these, a row of food and beverage stands had been set up. (There was none of that deep-fried junk here; everything was fresh, local, and prepared on grills.)

Meanwhile overhead, a latticework of carnival lights had been strung above the celebration in a zig-zag pattern, while up on the stage, a seven piece band was in the process of getting set up to play.

"THAT'S new," Judy thought to herself. The last time she'd been here for Carrot Days, the music had been supplied by a Dee-Jay. She wondered momentarily, how long had they been bringing in live music for the Big Dance? (This was actually the second year.)

Looking towards the stage, there was one thing she knew for certain. Tonight, by hook or by crook she was going to get Nick Wilde out on the dance floor.

But where the heck was he, anyway?

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At that moment Nick was waiting in line to get into the dance, a line that seemed to stretch for 20,000 leagues. He was surrounded by most of the Hopps family-and feeling utterly alone. Nobody was talking to him, nobody was looking at him; nobody was so much as angling their ears in his direction. For the first time since coming here, the fox was beginning to think that maybe Judy's invite hadn't been such a good idea after all.

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to say his good-byes and get his tail on the next train back to Zootopia; he had already considered the idea of heading home by himself-no sense hanging around a place where you brighten a room by leaving it-but he knew he wouldn't, he couldn't; Judy would never forgive him if turned tail and ran, or that was how she'd see it anyway.

Besides, with him gone that big bunny Jack LaPeigne would have her all to himself; no, Nick would stay and stick it out, he and Judy couldn't hang for the last dance anyway Chief Bogo had made it very clear that they were to be back in time for roll call Monday morning, and if they wanted to make that deadline, they'd need to be on the 11:00 train back to Zootopia. (The next one wasn't 'til 8:00 the next morning.) That meant they had to be out of here by 10, 10:30 at the very latest.

Nick looked at his watch, just few more hours of this torment and it would be over.

The line inched forward and a voice piped up from behind.

"Hey watch your tail, fox. That's my face."

"Sorry," he said, without looking back. Those were the first words anyone had spoken to him since he'd gotten in line. He found himself wishing that Judy was here, or he at least that he had Finnick to keep him company. Where was that little guy anyway?

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"What do you mean, you threw it out?" Conor's ears were back and his neck fur was spiking. Finnick couldn't have tossed their vendor's-gate pass; it wasn't possible. Without it, they'd have to go park along the roadside...WAY down along the roadside

And he would have to remember it NOW!

"Hey, I didn't know we were still gonna be here today," the desert fox answered defensively, laying his ears flat as well, "Anyway, I said I think I threw it out. Help me look."

"Okay, okay..."

"Will you two hurry up?"

"Says the bunny just sitting there instead of helping."

"Argue later, look now kid."

Behind them a chorus of car horns was beginning to raise a protest.

"Hey wait, I think I found it."

"Lemme see...no that's our camping permit, look for a yellow slip, not green."

"There's nothing like that under here."

"Scuse me folks, you're going to have to move; we can't hold up this line."

"Okay, okay-y-y-y."

Finnick wheeled the van in a U-turn around the gatekeeper's booth and back out the way they'd come. Several of the drivers who'd been held up behind them made gestures as he passed and at least one of them made a remark.

No one in the van said anything until they got back on the road, and then Erin Hopps lit into both foxes like a whirlwind.

"This is all your fault, both of you. Do you know how long a walk it's going to be...?"

Her tirade came to crashing halt as Finnick turned his trademark scowl on her.

"Not as long as if you gotta walk all the way home, bunny-girl!"

"Hey, cool it you guys; I got an idea where we can park."

Both of them turned to look at Conor, who was smiling and holding up the camping permit he'd found.

When he got out of the van about five minutes later, the young silver fox looked as smug as if he'd just pulled off the granddaddy of all hustles.

"Still think it'll be taken?" he said, showing Finnick a pair of sardonic fangs as he slipped the permit back into place on the dashboard.

Finnick and Erin both just grumbled. No, their camping space was still unoccupied, along with several others nearby. (Conor had guessed correctly that in the wake of that morning's brawl, a number of evictions would have followed.)

What made it even more delicious was the fact that both his companions had insisted that his idea was a complete waste of time. "Someone else is sure to have grabbed our spot by now." Finnick had said over and over.

Well no one had grabbed it, and if the walk from the campground to the amphitheater wasn't quite as easy as a stroll from the vendor's lot, it was still be way more convenient than the alternative. Best of all, when the time came to leave, they wouldn't have to fight a traffic jam on the way out. When Conor reminded Finnick of this, the desert fox looked as if he wanted to grab a rock to throw at him.

By the time they got inside the festival grounds, everything was cool with both him and Erin. It almost wasn't; when they heard the band starting to play. Conor was sure that Little Miss Mood-swing was going to go ballistic once again. He needn't have worried; like him, Erin knew a sound-check when she heard it; they still had plenty of time to get inside. As for DF, he was dancing a salsa-step as he walked.

Now the first whiffs from the food carts assailed the young silver fox's nostrils and he heard his stomach mumbling and felt his mouth getting wet; mmm, whatever they were grilling in there, it sure smelled yummy.

The three of them began to pick up the pace.

"I wonder where Nick is?" he heard Finnick asking of no one in particular.

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"Nick, Nick...over here!"

Nick Wilde turned and saw Judy Hopps waving. He waved back, but it was a forced effort; she was standing with Jack LaPeigne again, and "No, I'm NOT jealous!"

Swallowing his non jealousy, the red fox hurried in their direction

He was trying to smile, but he knew it wouldn't fool Judy for very long, ( LaPeigne maybe, but not her,) but then he wasn't really trying that hard anyway. No one knew better than Nick that he had never been very good at hiding his feelings-not from that bunny.

"Wow where the heck are they going to put everybody?" he told her by way of greeting; not the best opening he could think of, but it beat falling down on his knees and begging her to forgive him for what had happened earlier that morning.

"I know," Jack LaPeigne answered. "We were hoping for a decent turnout tonight, but wow!"

For the first time since he'd met the big bunny, Nick felt his neck hair beginning to stand on end. "I was talking to Judy, MISTER LaPeigne," he wanted to say, (but wouldn't). Just the same, he hadn't needed the rather unsubtle reminder that it was Jack's company sponsoring this year's Festival, "We were hoping..." he had said, and he hadn't meant him and Judy.

Before the fox could come up with a suitably diplomatic response, a new voice joined the conversation.

"Excuse me, Jack LaPeigne?"

Everyone turned to see a squat beaver approaching. There was nothing remarkable about the animal himself, but his mode of dress was about as appropriate for a barn dance as a tuxedo is for working a fast-food counter; white slacks and a blue blazer (double-breasted,) with a cinnamon tie and matching pawkerchief. There was no mistaking the big rodent for anything other than what he was, a politician.

Judy was the only one to recognize him, former County Commissioner, now acting County Chair, Chip Fielding; that was pretty much all she knew about the beaver. Jack LaPeigne could have told her a lot more. He might not have known Mr. Fielding by sight, but he knew the beaver's business; Fielding had recently decided to make a run for Burrow County Sheriff when Burke Hartley retired from office the following year. So here he was, hoping that a little of the big bunny's shine would rub off on him. Perhaps he even intended to lobby Jack for support; it would hardly be the first time a pol had sucked up to him. Politicians seeking favors from a billionaire are as common as flies around a bug-zapper.

"And often with the same results," Jack liked to remind himself.

Whether or not this beaver was going to GET any favors from him depended entirely on his sense of timing; if he wanted to talk business tonight, Mr. Fielding could go and whistle for his money elsewhere. On the other paw, if he was willing to wait, Jack was more than amenable to the idea. The big rodent was his kind of public official; a wheeler-dealer who wasn't above playing fast and loose with the facts, or getting down and dirty with his opponents. AND Chip Fielding already owed Jack a favor-although he didn't know it yet. It was Jack LaPeigne who had rid Bunnyburrow of the beaver's arch-nemesis, Jerry Guilford, (even though it wouldn't actually happen for another week and a half.)

Fielding would be a tough sell for the Sheriff's Office, the big rabbit knew; he had plenty of administrative experience, but zero law-enforcement experience. But if he could win the elections, it would put him in charge of Burrow County Corrections...and would an animal like him be willing to make an arrangement with Aker Correctional Corporation? Was it cold in Tundratown?

"I just wanted to thank you fursonally for your help this morning," the beaver said, offering a paw which the big bunny readily accepted, "Much as I appreciate the extra security you sent, I never expected you to get involved yourself."

Jack smiled, and it was not entirely forced; Fielding was actually speaking to his constituents, not to him. Not bad, if a little bit trite. But now, here came the acid test. Next, would the beaver ask to speak to him in private? If that was the case, Jack would politely excuse himself and suggest that Fielding call his office on Monday, (a call that would never be returned.)

But then Judy Hopps made it all academic.

"Uh Jack, can you excuse Nick and me for just a moment? There's...something we need to talk about."

LaPeigne's first instinct was to tell her 'no', but he could never be that much of a dumb bunny.

"Sure, go ahead," he said and then watched as she led Nick Wilde off into the crowd, leaving him alone with Chip Fielding.

No sooner had she gone than the beaver said, "It's not in my nature to mix business and pleasure Mr. LaPeigne, but can I leave you my card? There's a matter I'd like to discuss with you-at your convenience of course-a matter that I think might be of mutual benefit to both your company and to Burrows County."

Jack didn't seem to hear him at first; he was too busy staring at where Nick and Judy had disappeared into the gathering. But then he seemed to come alive and turned with a genuine smile. Chip Fielding had said exactly what he should have said.

"Certainly," he said, taking the card and then offering his to the beaver...while at the same time wondering absently where Judy was going with the fox.

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In a crowd this big, it was hard for Judy to find a place where she and Nick could speak in private. Eventually she led them to a spot behind a trailer, away from all the lights and the noise.

And then she turned to Nick and said just two words.

"You okay?"

His answer was a breezy as a summer beachfront.

"Yeah Carrots, I'm fine. No worries, you know me. I always...always..."

Nick's words began to falter as Judy's foot began to thump. Yes, she did know him...and she wasn't buying it.

He sighed and turned away, ears wilting sideways and tail drooping to the ground.

"No Carrots, I'm not okay," he admitted, and then looked at her over his shoulder, "I-I blew it this morning Judy. And now everybody thinks I'm a jerk."

The doe-bunny folded her arms and the tempo of her thumping increased.

"Okay-y-y, so what are you going to do about it Nick, go eat some worms?"

An unexpected smile flitted across his face.

"I wouldn't say that to a fox, Carrots. We like worms."

"Ew!" She was unable to stop herself from grimacing.

He turned suddenly to face her again.

"What I don't understand is why you of all bunnies keep standing up for me, Carrots. I almost got you killed with that stupid fire-hose stunt."

Judy's paws went straight to her hips. "Yes you did Nick...and before that you saved my little sister's life."

Usually, that ploy worked, but not this time. Nick shook his head and began to gesture with his paw, the way he always did when he was agitated.

"And then I got all three of us trapped inside that...pen, or whatever it was with your Uncle Terry," he reminded her.

"And then you got us out of there!" she reminded him right back.

He looked at the ground again, shamefaced. "I wouldn't have had to if I'd been using my head in the first place."

Judy tried to take his paws; he wouldn't let her.

"Nick," she told him quietly, "nobody's perfect, we all blow it once in a while; I found that out the hard way after that press conference two years ago." Now she was the one regarding the ground.

"That was different, Carrots." the fox rebutted her, "That was only some careless words, you didn't DO anything stupid."

Judy's ears went back as if a wind had just blown in her face.

"Oh really?" she said, "Tell that to all the predators who...Ohhhh!" She threw up her paws in mixture of defeat and exasperation, "That's it, I give up; nobody can talk to you when you get like this. Call me when you get back from your guilt-trip, Slick. Right now, I'm going back to the dance."

Judy turned and stalked away from him. She managed only about ten steps before she heard him running to catch up with her, "Carrots, wait!"

...just as she'd known he would.

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"Ewwww, are you serious?"

They were passing by a mole selling grilled nightcrawlers from a pushcart, and the hungry look on Conor's face had not escaped Erin Hopps' notice.

"What, YOU eat those things?" she demanded, puckering her nose in disgust

"I'm a fox, deal with it.," he answered archly...but made a mental note to go for them later, when she wasn't around.

"You're just lucky Finnick took off, Snowdrop," he added silently, "You don't wanna know what HE likes to snack on."

"Hiyeee!" A pair of voices called from over on their left, and they turned to see three members of Erin's posse coming their way, Jill Pepper, Cara Combs, and Sue Cannon. Walking with Sue was another feline, a guy; not a bobcat like herself but a Lynx, bigger than her and wearing a T-shirt reading "Burrows High School Lacrosse."

Instinctively, Conor began sizing him up.

He was at least two years older than the young silver fox and probably a head taller with a muscular build, not an ounce of fat anywhere; those were his advantages. The only disadvantage that Conor could see was that he was a jock...but that was a huge handicap on his part.

The average high-school athlete is used to playing by the rules...and in a street fight there aren't any. In a street-fight, the object is not to beat your opponent, but to hurt him. Conor knew that much if nothing else (and he had the marks to prove it.) If it came to a fight between him and this lynx, he'd go straight for the knees; put some hurt on an athlete's knee and... "What the heck am I doing?"

He wanted to kick himself right out of the Festival. More than three years out of Granite Point Youth Reformatory and Conor was still seeing every other guy he met as a potential opponent. Would he NEVER lose that 'tude?

His embarrassment didn't ease up any when Sue introduced him to the lynx.

"Conor, this is my boyfriend, Craig Roberts. Craig this is Conor, you remember him from last night."

"Heck yeah," the lynx said, offering a paw, "That was really cool, you letting Erin have your slot there Conor."

"No thanks needed, it was worth it," the young fox answered, liking himself even less for his earlier assessment of this cat. Unlike everyone else he'd met, the lynx had made no comments about Conor's guitar-playing; instead he'd talked about the fox's beau geste in stepping aside to let Erin take center stage. This Craig Roberts was an alright guy, (unlike another Craig he'd met recently and speaking of that animal...)

"Erin you heard the latest?" Jill Pepper was asking her fellow bunny, and without waiting for an answer she nudged the elbow of the bobcat next to her. "Tell her, Sue."

Sue Cannon looked around and then leaned in close. Her expression was wickedly gleeful

"Guess what Erin, the Guildfords are getting evicted!"

Both her Conor's ears went up and then the white furred bunny's nose began to twitch. Could this have had something to do with the video of Craig Guilford firebombing that produce stand: the one the silver fox had pirated off his girlfriend's computer and then tricked her into posting on Ewe-Tube? It seemed highly unlikely but still...

"You sure about this?" Erin was peering closely at her friend.

Sue raised a pair of crossed fingers. "Swear to God, Erin. They got served this morning; I heard my dad talking to my mom about it right before we left for the dance. When a bank forecloses on a property, they have to notify the Sheriff's Department; it's the law."

Conor relaxed and saw Erin do the same. Okay, it was a bank foreclosure, nothing to do with him.

"Yeah, and good riddance!" Cara Combs said, speaking for all of them.

But then a wee voice piped up from the young ewe's shoulder, and Conor realized that Lisa Chatterton, the Douglas Squirrel, was also there with them.

"Wait a minute, they got served with a foreclosure on a SUNDAY?" she chittered incredulously, "I didn't think a bank could DO that."

"You'd be surprised as what a bank can get away with," Conor growled, his mouth setting into a thin, grim line.

Before anyone could ask him what he meant by that, a squeal of feedback echoed from the direction of the stage, followed by a low, brassy voice.

"Hello, good evening everybody...and welcome to the Carrot Days Big Dance."

The announcement sparked a flurry of conversation among the others that Conor Lewis at first found hard to follow.

"Who is that, is that Chip Fielding?" Craig Roberts asked.

"Sounds like him," Cara Combs answered and then grinned, "Bet HE was happy to hear about the Guilfords getting kicked off their property."

"Ho, no kidding!"

"He may not know yet."

"Is he really going to run for Sheriff, Sue?" it was Jill Pepper again.

"Don't know, it's just a rumor," the girl bobcat shrugged "but my dad says he'll quit the Department before he'll serve under that sleazebucket."

"...so once more, I'd like to thank our sponsor, LPN Pharmaceuticals," the beaver was saying, "and now, on with the show."

A smattering of applause followed and then they heard the band tuning up again

Conor looked at Erin and winked.

"Betcha a quarter they open with Summertime Blues."

She grinned and shook her head.

"No bet fox, I was just thinking the same thing." A lively beat and a danceable rhythm, covered by everyone from The Whom to Bruce Springbok to Alan Jackrabbit, Summertime Blues was the perfect opening number for any summer dance-party, anywhere.

And sure enough...

"Well I'm a-gonna raise a fuss,

I'm a-gonna raise a holler..."

Sue immediately grabbed her boyfriend's wrist. "Come on Craig, let's dance."

He was led away towards the dance-floor with a helpless look on his face. That was as good a cue as any, Conor decided, to also take his leave; at this point his stomach was delivering an ultimatum, 'send down some grub or the throat gets it!'

"If you don't mind, I'm gonna go snag myself something to eat." He said.

"Yeah sure, go ahead." Erin answered, not a little skittishly. She had already guessed what was on the menu. (Ewwwww!)

"I'll see you later." She said, and followed Sue and Craig into the crowd, with Jill and Cara right behind her

Conor watched them go, and started to turn away...but then a thought occurred to him. After her performance onstage last night, probably every eligible young rabbit in the Burrow would be a asking her to dance.

Well, so what if they did? It didn't concern him, and....

"Hey, stupid...Feed me! NOW!"

Conor bowed to his belly's demands and headed for the food stalls.

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Author's Note:

Yes Virginia, foxes do eat earthworms. I saw it in a nature documentary.

Easter Egg, a reference to Disney's first live-action film.