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You've all been VERY patient, and I appreciate that! So, finally, with no further ado, here is 87th Precinct part 2, Auld Lang Syne.

Disclaimer: This story contains adult situations which may be disturbing or unsettling to minors or immature readers. Please be of or over the age of consent where you live before reading this story.

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"ALL RIGHT! It's 10:30, and this puppy is getting some action!" That police-dog James Jaeger kicked back from his desk and spun around in that office chair, throwing his hands up triumphantly... and earning himself a swat from his partner (in more ways than one), Danny Reid.

"Grow up, man." The bandit-masked detective just rubbed his eyes and sighed. A quick shake of his head and he was back, waving to his co-workers as they left. "Happy New Year, guys! See you at the party!" So began a yearly tradition. Since Danny had been working in the Special Tactics Unit, housed comfortably in local precinct 87, there'd been a New Year's party every year. Every year, Danny had done his best to get that grumpy bloodhound, the chief, to come join his men... and every year, he failed miserably. This year would be different, though! He had to resort to measures he'd promised himself he'd never use... but desperate times call for desperate measures, and by God, Captain Benjamin Winters would be watching the ball drop with the rest of his men!

"PLEASE! Oh please oh please oh pleaseohpleaseohplease!" That's right. Begging. Danny briefly reflected that he was very rarely on his knees for this purpose, but there he was, in the cap's office. The hound NEVER went out with his men, especially not for this yearly tradition.

"Goddammit, Reid, get the hell out of my office!" Grumpy as usual, that hound just brushed past the kneeling 'coon and went back to his desk, fumbling with some papers. "I got too much work to do. You know, work? That thing that the city pays you guys for all day? Some of us like to EARN our pay. Now get the hell out of here, Reid."

"C'mon, bossman! I'll be your friend!" There was a flash of emerald greens and that winning smile, locked on to the gray-muzzled hound.

"I don't want a friend!" The dog sighed and leaned back. "Look, Reid... just go and have fun, OK? New Year's isn't really my thing."

The raccoon stood up, dejected, and dusted himself off. "OK, Boss. Just remember... it's bad luck to have no one to kiss at midnight." With that, the decidedly swishy raccoon stalked out of the office, grabbed his partner, and made his way out of the building... leaving the old hound dog alone.

Ben watched the pair leave, and then sighed loudly. That raccoon was more trouble than he was worth... but he was an amazing sharpshooter, and really the heart and soul of this little team he'd set up. The biggest problem with him... was he was too much like René.

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"ALL RIGHT! It's 10:30 and this puppy is getting some action!" That bloodhound stood up from his desk and smirked, snatching his coat off the nearby hook and patting his sheepdog partner's shoulder. "See ya in '74, Sammy!" Ben clapped that shaggy creature on the back and headed toward the office door and freedom... until.

"WINTERS!" Oh, the dulcet tones of wild abandon were right there in front of him... and then the big lizard who ran their department decided to play a wrong note. "Get your ass in here. PRONTO."

The hound's blood ran cold as he made his way to the big man's office. His men called him "Godzilla"... The terrible destroyer. The king of monsters... nah. Godzilla had nothing on the Chief. "You, uh... you called Chief?"

"Winters, I need you to watch a V.I.P. Tonight."

"AW! Come on, Chief! It's New Year's!"

"No buts! This guy's real important... some hotshot French guy, freelance thief who's turning evidence on the Marzetti family. Marzetti finds out, then frog-boy's gonna bite the dust. You gotta keep that from happening."

"No, I gotta waste my New Year's Eve playing babysitter to Inspector Clouseau! Dammit!"

"Shut up, Winters. Get over to the Metropolitan and relieve MacElroy."

A fair deal of complaining and some very angry driving later, Ben pulled up to the hotel and stormed his way up into the lobby. "Detective Benjamin Winters, 87th precinct, I'm here for the V.I.P.?" The bored-looking ferret behind the counter simply pointed to the elevator and intoned that the hound should check the penthouse. A quick elevator ride brought him to his destination, and a very relieved MacElroy.

"He's all yours, man. Been after me all night about wanting to go to a party." The much older equine shook his head slowly. "Just incessant."

"I can relate, man." Ben patted the old man on the shoulder and took his post, waving as the doors closed and he was alone in the hall. "Well, I suppose I had better get to work." A deep, resigned sigh rumbled in his chest as he turned the knob and pushed the door open... to find himself face-to-face with the single most gorgeous feline he'd ever laid eyes on.

"So this is my new keeper, non?" The cat huffed a little and shook his head, sipping the glass of red wine in his paw. He wasn't wearing very much of anything, nothing more than a pair of very short dark blue shorts clutching his waist, and his silky white fur accentuated his thin, lithe form perfectly... in many ways, he was the exact opposite of the canine newcomer. He was soft where the cop was hard, light and agile where Benjamin was strong and heavily muscled. Every step the feline took was like a small dance as he made his way through the spacious room. "Your city is being vraiment gracious with my accommodations, but they have not given me much in the way of... entertainment. Tonight being New Year's Eve, I was sincerely hoping I could have a little fun, n'ecst pas?"

Ben... was completely out of his depth. He could barely rip his eyes from the incredibly attractive kitty, let alone make intelligent conversation. "Uh... ye... I... Benjamin."

The cat smirked and swished his way over to the stammering dog, green slit-pupil eyes watching him as a paw extended delicately to take the dog's shake it briefly. "René." The cat slunk past that still-flummoxed bloodhound and, carrying his drink, slid towards the bedroom. "The sofa folds out, I have been told. Wake me if you decide you're more interesting than the horse." With a flick of that tail, the kitty disappeared into his room and left the seemingly-overdressed hound alone, mouth agape and completely speechless. Suddenly, as if from some external source, confidence flooded into the hound's body, a chilling wave of purpose that saw him walking towards that recently closed door. Every step was solid, determined... this dog would not be ignored. The kitten's door swung open and in Ben stepped, surveying the scene with a smirk... there he lay, barely covered by a thin, silk sheet. With a grab and a toss, the hound uncovered his feline treat and growled a little in anticipation as he looked up and down the delicious form.

"Mmm... so you ARE more interesting than the horse..." René smirked and rolled quickly, crawling across the bed towards the larger canine. "I had a sense you liked to play with the boys..." His accent was seductive in and of itself, drawing the canine closer with each purred word that slipped from his lips.

Ben would waste no more time, and easily lifted the feline to himself, pulling his thin, white-furred form against his chest and locking him in an bestial, forceful kiss. He felt René melt into him, pressing against his body and pressing his tongue against kissing lips. The canine parted his maw and used his tongue to pull the feline's in, tasting him and allowing kitty to get a taste himself... but all too soon, the cat broke the kiss, panting slightly.

"We are both far too clothed to continue, non?" Kitty smirked and flicked his paws out, releasing claws that easily shredded Ben's buttoned shirt. In the same moment, those claws retracted as delicate paws slid underneath the ruined tatters and easily pushed them and the jacket on top of them off. He gasped a little as the dog's form was revealed... this was no flabby, pudgy bloodhound that he was used to. Every inch was lean, strong muscle, and René found himself, for the first time, at a loss for words.

Ben simply smirked and pressed the cat down to the mattress. "Yes, you're right... we are too clothed." The hound's mouth closed on René's neck, nibbling and licking the tender flesh there as his paws ran down the perfect form below him. Soon he found a thin piece of fabric, straining against its inhabitant, keeping him from feeling more sensuous kittyfur. "Hm... that's no good..." he muttered as fingers hooked below those shorts' waistband and tugged them down, soon discarding them completely and having nothing but naked cat before him.

As he felt himself stripped, René's purrs grew louder , his back arching as those legs rose, helping this new puppy. As soon as he was revealed in all his glory, the cat's confidence returned and he deftly rolled the pup over onto his back. Straddling Ben's legs, that kitten rolled and rubbed down against him, closing his eyes and letting out little mewls of pleasure. "Ohh... too long have I been without a real man... Are you the man for me, Benji?" A smirk lit that seductive face as soft paws ran up and down that chiseled chest, bubbly rump grinding against the bulge in those cheap slacks. "Mon Dieu... I believe someone would like to play, yes?"

Ben watched as that kitten gave him one last smirk and then spun in place, now laying down the hound's body, legs straddling that powerful chest, paws working furiously to release that desperate pup's member. Strong arms came up, as if of their own volition, and gripped the kitten's almost-feminine hips. A quick readjustment later and Ben found that perfect rump achingly close to his muzzle and, going on pure instinct, that long, broad tongue snaked out to tease and moisten that tight entrance.

Bright green eyes snapped open and a loud moan slipped from those lips as he felt the puppy's naughty tongue. A shiver rolled through his body and his back arched as he was prepared for the ride they both knew was quickly approaching, the tongue not content to merely tease the surface but rather dipping deeper and deeper into the feline with each swipe. After a few moments of shock, René returned to his work, suddenly clumsy, shaking paws unbuttoning and unzippering those pants and being greeted by a thick, throbbing canine cock nearly smacking him in the face. "Oh... He... hello... puppy..." once-smart mouth was quickly silenced by Ben's continuing ministrations, and the kitten squirmed and shuddered as his new friend prepared him.

As he felt himself unleashed, the dog thought he should return the favor and one powerful paw left those bubbly cheeks and wrapped around the feline's growing thickness, pumping up and down slowly a few times before letting go completely and pulling himself out from underneath that beautiful white form. Ben pushed himself up onto his knees and laid that pointed heat between those round, white cheeks. "Such a perfect little ass my kitty has... is kitty ready to get stuffed?"

"Don't tease me any longer, baby... please..." René's words were desperate, almost pained as he felt the object of his absolute pleasure mere centimeters away from it's deserved home. Those words spoken, the cat felt his sides gripped and what felt like miles of superheated, throbbing canine cock pressed between those cheeks and into his spit-lubed tunnel. A cry of abject pleasure rose from both men as they were united, both parties simply staying still for a few moments to let that kitten adjust. Soon after, that cat began to whimper and squirm and the bigger dog knew what was asked of him.

With a grunt of effort, Ben pulled himself almost completely free of that gripping, welcoming tightness, before pumping forward again with a single, hard thrust, eliciting a gasping cry of ecstasy from the feline below him. The puppy slowly built up a rhythm, pumping his hips against furry, jiggling cheeks harder and harder with each thrust and letting little grunts and groans escape his clenched jaw. "Fuck, baby... you're tight..." he muttered as paws stroked up and down the white-furred boy's sides. As Ben grew faster and harder with his strokes, he grinned down at the kitten below him, licking his lips before he stopped and withdrew himself.

"Nnn! No! Don't stop!" René protested... that is, until he felt those powerful arms lift his lithe frame easily and flip him over, laying him down on his back. Those same arms grabbed the feline's legs and brought them up, hooking them over broad, canine shoulders.

"I want to watch my kitten while I pound him..." Ben smirked and quickly thrust back into the warm, tight confines of his kitty's rump, eliciting a loud yowl of pleasure and a hard arch of that flexible feline back. "Mmm... That's... that's it... shuh-show me... how much... you love it..." Each word was punctuated by a particularly forceful thrust as the big canine claimed his delicate little cat. All good things must end, however, and the dog felt himself swelling at the base of that white-hot member. With one final thrust and a mighty howl, he buried himself as deep as he could in that panting feline, locking his knot inside the shuddering form and pumping seeming gallons of seed into him.

René's body took on a life of its own as he was so completely filled, arching and shuddering as bursts of light and stars went off before his eyes. The flood of doggiecream was too much for him and his neglected member spurted, painting streaks of pearl across his furry stomach and chest. "...Oui... Oui puppy... Je t'aime..." The feline was a wreck, absolutely exhausted from the forceful, delicious love the big puppy had visited upon him... and he smiled as he felt that broad tongue again, lapping up each delicate streak of feline desire from his body and then kissing him deeply, sharing with that cat his own flavor. As their tongues danced and sparred, the exhausted men could hear the TV, carelessly left on in the next room...

"FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR! Say goodbye to 1973, and hello to 1974!"

The canine broke away from René first, licking his lips and smirking. "Mmm... good luck to kiss someone at midnight on New Year's... I guess this means we're stuck together." He grinned at the delighted purr from his new feline and leaned back in to continue kissing him as the sky behind them burst into flames, green and blue explosions ringing in the change of the year... and the birth of a love.

For one whole year, the pair were inseparable. At Ben's request, René gave up his life of crime and instead turned to more legal work, testing the security systems of the richest of the rich. Over that year's time, they grew closer and closer, and what was at first a desperate one-night-stand grew into an enduring love.

It was New Year's Eve, 1974, and René had something very special planned for his lovely puppy. Their anniversary was of incredible importance to the French cat, as it marked a great shift in his life, and he wanted it to be the best night of Ben's life. There he stood in that same penthouse where they first met, dressed in nothing but a skimpy pair of blue shorts, a glass of red wine poured and sitting on the counter (next to another, empty glass, of course). René made sure that the television was loud enough so that they could hear the ball drop in the next room, as he imagined he and the pup would not be spending much time out of the bed. A light giggle rose to his lips as he imagined the look on his lover's face... he'd alerted that monstrous lizard boss of Ben's that the bloodhound must not be aware of what was to happen, only that he was to come to the Metropolitan. It was supposed to seem like a last-minute assignment, and no would not be taken for an answer. He'd also left word with the front desk that he was expecting a gentledog from the Police department, precinct 87, and that said male was to be sent up to the penthouse immediately... so when the strong knock came on the door, René simply smirked and turned around. "Entrez-vous!"

But what stood in the doorway was not his puppy... it was the large, shaggy Old English Sheepdog that was Ben's other partner. "Hey faggot!" René flinched at the word and opened his mouth to respond... until the cold steel of a gun floated into view. "Marzetti says 'Hi.'" There was a bang, and a sharp, hot pain. René felt himself falling...

Ben heard the sound of gunfire and immediately pulled his service pistol from his shoulder holster, exploding out of the elevator and seeing the penthouse door open. He'd figured out what was going on long before he got to the Metro... he was a detective after all... and his mind filled with unspeakable horrors as he ran towards the door. Sure enough, as he turned the corner, he saw his beloved, the fur of his chest stained red, his face wet with tears. He also saw the traitorous canine above him, aiming down to "finish the job." Without a second thought, Ben leveled his pistol and fired a single shot, watching the larger dog's head jerk to the side. The shaggy traitor collapsed to the ground, dead before he had time to settle. Ben discarded the gun and rushed to René's side, gently cradling him. "No... baby, no, you can't go... I need you, you can't leave me!"

The feline's eyes fluttered as he looked up at the bloodhound, a slight smile on his lips. "My love... je t'aime... I love you, Benji..." Weakly he pulled himself up... his whole body was cold, and going numb... but he managed to reach Ben's lips and kiss him gently. "Thank you... for this year..."

"Don't try to talk, baby. You're going to be OK!" He grabbed his radio and clicked it on. "Someone please respond! Shots fired at the Metropolitan Hotel penthouse! Come in, please! Shots fired!"

By the time the ambulance arrived, René was long gone... the kitten had died in his lover's arms, whimpering and crying. Detective Samuel Baker was stripped of rank posthumously, and evidence came to the fore that he had been working for the Marzetti crime family since joining the police force several years prior. The years passed and Benjamin Winters rose through the ranks at the 87th, in time forming his own squad of top-quality operatives known as the Special Tactics Unit, in the hopes that he would never again have a traitorous agent amongst his own.

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The Chief sighed and shook his head, watching out the window and remembering times long past, taking a slow sip from his flask of whiskey.

"You must really be one of those hopeless romantics, puppy, to still love me after this long."

Ben spun quickly and gasped as René stood there before him, dressed in a long, black coat and smiling brightly at his lover. "René... but... you died..."

"Yes, I did... And so did you, that day... I have watched you from afar for years upon years as you threw yourself into work, into suspicion... It is not healthy, puppy..." The feline slowly padded across his office, standing before the older puppy... who suddenly didn't feel so old... no! He felt as good as he ever did! He was strong and fit again, full of life and happiness.

"René... is this a dream?'

"Let us just say that He is not without sympathy... and any broken heart is one broken heart too many. Happy new year, my love..." The feline pulled Ben to his feet, kissing him gently and pulling him into a soft, warm embrace.

Ben woke with a start, lifting his head from the desk and looking around desperately. "René! No! Don't..." A dream... it had all been a dream. Too much whiskey, and too much time spent living in his head. The hound stood and tossed that flask into the wastebasket, quickly making his way out of his office. It was only 11:20... if he hurried he would still have time to make it to James and Danny's party.

As he shut off the light and locked his office behind him... a single, pure white feather drifted to his desk. "Soon, my love... soon we will be together again. But you must not waste your life pining for the past... Je t'aime, Benji. Je t'aime."