FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You've never been to the range this early. It feels strange.

After you got off the phone with Talia, you headed straight here. Your gear was still packed up -- you spent Sunday night obsessively searching for a way out of your current predicament instead of cleaning.

Not a good sign.

The spent brass from yesterday jingles in the range bag as you cross the parking lot. It mingles with the sound of gravel in the morning air. 9:30 isn't early in the grand scheme of things, but it's only an hour or so after the range opens. Being a Monday, there's hardly anyone else here. Only a handful of cars near the entrance. A Jeep, a black sedan, and the range-standard rusty pickups.

You give the attendant at the front a wave. You don't remember their name, but they know you're with Talia. They just give you a nod before going back to their phone. The thought of getting a part-time job here again crosses your mind; seems like RSOs hardly have anything to do most of the time.

You smile. That's why you like it here.

The only gunfire is the occasional report of a hunting rifle. You leave your ears off as you walk down the bays, losing yourself in the rhythm of gravel and brass. Keep an empty mind. You need to relax. That's why you're here.

You never thought it'd take effort to chill out.

"Hey Aki."

The cheetah looks a little surprised after she takes out her earbuds. She's filled the shelter of Bay 3 with her toys as per usual, but her barricades and personal training targets have yet to migrate downrange.

"Hey, Anon," she says. "You're here early."

"Had some free time," you say. You glance at all the range equipment she has, most of it unwieldy and awkward. "You want some help with that?"

She offers a smirk and hefts an empty plastic drum on her shoulder.

"Don't know. Those arms look pretty noodly."

You groan and set your bag down near her pile. Hers are all bigger and stuffed more full. Aki doesn't say much as you pick up a bundle of snow fence and follow her downrange, her spotted tail swishing lazily. You notice the chest rig is on even this early in the morning. All the pouches and extras are still in her bags, so the skeletal webbing system almost blends in with her shooting outfit.

"You have stakes for this?" you ask when Aki drops the drum downrange with a few other pieces of equipment. She nods and walks over to the side of the sandy berm, pulling a few pieces of u-channel posts from the long grass. You're a little surprised; you didn't think they'd let her leave stuff like that there. The green paint is solid when you go to help her set them up. The cheetah grunts when you grab an armload and carry them for her. She knows where she wants them better than you.

The two of you work wordlessly for a while; it reminds you of your old park maintenance job. The spots on Aki's arms bounce with every stake she pile-drives into the sand. There's a small spray as each is seated, and you think you see a hint of teeth on the last few. The cheetah sighs when she's finished, and starts unwinding the snowfence. You hesitate before going back to the shelter to drag over more of the barricades and barrels.

"Alright, only things left over there are some of the silhouette stands," you say, dragging the last of it over. "Everything good?"

Aki adjusts one of the corners of snow fence, trying to tighten it. Her tail flicks as it fights against her.

"Yeah, yeah, just a sec," she says. There's a glint of teeth as she yanks the stake into place. The fence looks a bit stretched, but it holds. The cheetah huffs and smacks it once to be sure. She gives you a smug grin when she sees you haven't moved.

"What's wrong? You not able to carry those on your own, little human?"

"Shut up, Aki," you say, falling into pace beside her. "Carrying your entire safe with you every trip doesn't make those things less unwieldy."

You wait for the cheetah to bite back with something, but the most she gives is a snort.

"Careful, the legs like to break if you put too much force on them," she says when the two of you confront the pile of aluminum target stands. She grabs one by the head and starts dragging it downrange, letting it bounce around on its legs. The weakness in the joints doesn't surprise you.

"Aki, why don't you let me help," you say, grabbing the bucking rods. The two of you stumble a little as you get the awkward stand steady between you -- they're less rigid than you'd think. Aki glances at you with slightly flattened ears when the two of you have settled into a rhythm, the square bars just gently bashing your legs now.

"Great. Now I'm stuck at your pace."

"We can move faster if you want," you sigh. The cheetah responds by exaggeratedly dragging her boots through the gravel.

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to hurry you, slowpoke."

"That's better," you mutter to yourself.

Her sideways glance turns into a full-on look.

"What's that mean?" she asks as her eyes narrow.

Goddamn cats and their stupid ears.

"Where do you want this first?" you say. She stays quiet as she guides you to a spot poking out from some snow fence, her ears perked the whole time. There's a tension in her stance when she's finished with her final adjustments and turns to go back to the shelter. She doesn't wait for you, but you can tell her steps are slow.

"Just noticed that you were a bit off," you say. Her silence tells you you're right.

"Yeah, I might be," the cheetah sighs, grabbing the next target; she looks at you a little expectantly, waiting for you to help her before continuing. "That's why I'm here."

"You don't normally show up this early?"

Her shoulders slump a little with a sigh.

"This is late for me, Anon. All this setup takes time, and I need the whole lane to myself. Most people don't wait for me to finish blocking off their bay before they start shooting."

You share a chuckle.

"But, yeah," she says, "I'm blowing off some steam."

She looks at you a little curiously as the two of you walk back for the last target stand.

"So what are you doing here?" she asks. "I thought you'd be in the library. Or are they giving you crappy hours again?"

"Something like that."

She grunts, hesitating when the two of you grab the last stand. "You didn't get fired, did you?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

You try to leave it at that. Aki stays quiet, but chuckles when the two of you drop it off at the course.

"So you're gonna leave me hangin'?" she asks, scooting it into place.

"I suppose not," you sigh. The cheetah is still a little smug when she looks up, but her blue eyes look genuine. You take a breath, and ask, "when did you leave here yesterday?"

"Stayed pretty late. Why?"

"Didn't notice me leaving?"

"Nah, probably was still doing my room to room drill here," she says, gesturing back at the course. "Trying to work out a rough spot."

You roll your eyes; the 'rough spot' was likely a few milliseconds she wasn't able to shave.

"Well, I left a bit early. Pretty much right after helping that new girl out," you say. Focus on the rhythm of the gravel. "Had a bit of an issue."

Aki raises an eyebrow.

"Was Pat being a bitch again?" she asks.

"Yup."

The cheetah hesitates, gathering up a bunch of cardboard targets before looking at you, smug mostly gone.

"How bad?"

"Pretty bad," you say slowly. "She left very pleased with herself."

"Never a good sign," Aki mutters.

"She's going to take Talia and I to court," you finish.

"What, because she's jealous?" the cheetah snorts. "You two have been steady for two years, how's she going to prove anything?"

"No, that's the side charge," you say, forcing down the fluttering in your chest. "One she's proud of, I'm sure."

Aki hums with a soft tenor. The two of you get all the way back to the target stands before she speaks up again, the racing stripes on her face wrinkled in slight concern.

"What'd she pull?"

"Unintentional slamfire makes my gun a machine gun."

The cheetah blows a raspberry. "That's some bullshit. There's no way it'll hold up."

"It's a bit more complicated," you say. You focus on the cool aluminum, slipping the slats apart just enough to slide a silhouette between them.

"What, you hit something with it?"

That makes you chuckle. "I put every shot on target, I'll have you know," you say.

She snorts, smiling a little. "Sure you did."

When the chuckling stops, your chest goes back to being tight. Feeling her stare at you as the silence mounts doesn't help. You close your eyes for a second before responding, prepping the next target stand.

"It... it was with a new gun. One that I made the mistake of saying I repaired. She's going to go with the story that I modified it intentionally to get me on manufacturing and possession."

You sigh.

"Me and Talia got the email this morning, so they're going through with it. Gave officer bitch the perfect excuse to call the courtship into question."

You clamp the aluminum stand back together with a little more force than you need.

"Shit, man," Aki breathes. You find her staring at you, arms crossed. Her narrowed eyes search yours. She's at just as much of a loss for words as you. You wave her off, going to another target stand.

"Way it goes," you manage. "She's always been an ornery bitch, and she's gone after us since she first met us. Only a matter of time before she found something she could use."

The limbs of the target stand chatter as you yank them apart. "The state of the State don't help much," you add.

You're a little surprised to feel a paw on your shoulder. Aki's touch is firm. She stands off to the side, not trying to hide. There's no exaggerated bravado in her small smile -- a rarity.

"Sorry about that shit, man," she says. "If you need help, I gotcha."

You nod. "Thanks, Aki. Probably gonna need everything I can get."

She doesn't resist when you start heading back towards the shelter.

"Trial is this Sunday, so I -- I'm a little stressed."

"This Sunday?" Aki says, looking down with surprise. "That's really fast. No way she's not pulling strings." When she sees your discomfort, she adds "No way it won't come back to bite her in the ass. I'll be there, Anon. I don't -- I don't have anything going on."

You glance up at her. "You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says, nodding gently. "I'll just train a different day."

"Hmm. I thought you lived in the shed behind the clubhouse."

"Took the tour, didn't like the humidity," she says, seemingly recovered. She picks up one of her bags of fun and sets it on the shooting bench with a heavy thump. "And in winter, it's too damn cold."

You can't help but snicker. "Aww, what's the matter, kitty got a thin coat?"

The cheetah probably intends for her side-eye to be nasty, but you find it pretty cute. "At least I have fur at all, skinny."

"'Skinny?'" you repeat with mock indignance. "Oh, just wait until the rangemaster hears about this. Such virulent speciesism!"

Aki ignores you and begins disassembling her range bag. You've never seen the process from start to finish, but it's a sight to behold. Cases for individual guns fill the bag almost perfectly. Ammo cans and individual boxes take up the spaces in between. Each goes on the bench, spread out and on the firing-side. Any other range and she'd get her spots yelled off.

"What's that for?" you ask, pointing to a drawstring bag. Among the hard cases and ammo cans, the strained fabric seems strange.

"More gear," she says. Kydex, pouches, and mag holders spill out when she empties it onto the fourth lane of her temporary lair. She snatches up the small bag of gummy candy that tumbles out and pops one in her mouth before stuffing it back into the drawstring.

"...You ever consider a rolling chest?"

"Wouldn't want it getting scratched from the gravel," she replies, sorting out the various attachments for her rig. "Besides, I can carry two of those bags at once. Three if I'm feeling bold."

You look at her arms -- her pipes aren't massive, but there's definitely some definition beneath her fur. She's a bit heavier than your average cheetah. You watch her back move beneath her shirt as she adjusts her webbing. Even if she's not perfectly lithe, her performance on the range is miles better than yours.

She clears her throat.

"Starin' at something?" she asks. Her tail flicks idly as she glances over her shoulder.

"J-just curious if you use the real estate on your back with the webbing, too," you say. It's hasty, but she seems to buy it.

"I can. Don't have too many setups that do," she says, picking up a few pieces of kit and starting to attach them. "You ever use a chest rig, Anon?"

"No, but I've seen enough of them," you reply.

"Good."

Aki tosses a mag holder and a dump pouch over her shoulder; she chuckles lightly when you nearly fumble the catch.

"You mind putting these on the back of my belt?" she asks. "I'd have to take it off if I were to do it. Hard to put them on blind and behind yourself."

You search her for some sign of teasing, a smirk or a flaunting of the hips. But the cheetah just continues assembling her equipment, clicking things into place and threading straps through webbing.

"Where do you want the mags?" you ask.

"Right side," she says. "Easy enough to pull them out with the right, but using your main hand for the dump pouch isn't great."

There's no duplicity to her voice; she seems all business. You get to work with a shrug. She's a little short for an anthro, only 7ft tall, but the size difference still puts her belt around nipple height for you. It makes it easier to thread the straps of the dump pouch through the holes in the webbing for her. You avoid looking any lower than the belt, your hands staying on the edges of the webbing.

"There, that good?" you ask, stepping back. Aki reaches back almost absentmindedly, tweaking and tugging at the attachments.

"Yeah, that works," she says. Her tail swishes as she undoes the latches on the gun cases. She pauses, then turns back to you.

"Thanks, Anon," she says. "If you wanna set your stuff up, I can run through the course with you."

The slight smile on her face is almost enough to keep you from snorting. Almost.

"No problem Aki. I appreciate the offer," you chuckle, "but I don't think I'd be very good."

A hint of smugness returns. She grabs an MP5 magazine, tossing it in the air with plenty of spin.

"First step of getting good is bein' bad," she says, catching the mag. She looks at you expectantly as she begins loading it.

"I mean, all I have that might work is the tokarev... Not exactly a competition piece."

She nods towards your bag. "What else you got in there?"

"Uhh, the webley and the ZH-29," you say; she cocks her head at the second one. "Big semi-auto rifle. Almost long as I am tall."

The cheetah's ears flatten. She switches to loading a new magazine without missing a beat.

"Yeah, might be a bit tough for you," she says, "especially since you don't have a good holster or sling, I imagine."

"Eeeeh... not here, I don't."

"Not here?" she hums. Her pleasant grin tells you she knows exactly what you're up to. "My, my, Anon. Why ever would you need something like that?"

"Makes it look like I got a bigger bulge," you reply. Aki's eyes bug out a little as she snorts, almost dropping her ammo.

"Makes sense why Pat has such a hard-on for you," she snickers. "Anyway, you could still run through it if you wanted. No rule against only going through with a handgun -- it's what I like doing most."

You look out at the setup you helped her with. It's different from the course you saw yesterday, but she always tweaks some part or another. Your practical shooting has been limited to practicing your draw and occasionally shooting from it when no one's around. The club doesn't have any barricades or move and shoot stuff like Aki has. You'd always thought asking her to go through it would be an inconvenience, considering your equipment.

"Sure. Yeah, sure," you say. "Let me get my stuff ready."

Aki continues prepping her own gear with a nod. Despite having three other guns to prep, she finishes around the same time that you do. You're not particularly surprised. She's clipping on the last of her shotgun shells when you're finished loading your third mag of 7.62. You eye up the piece they're for; the sleek black shotgun screams 90s. The combination of a bolt and sliding pump make it easy to identify since there's only a handful of dual-mode shotguns out there. This one doesn't have the distinctive SPAS heat-shield -- but it does have a concerning growth up top where the rear sight should be.

"Why would you put a dot on an M3?" you ask. "Please tell me you didn't actually drill and tap it..."

The cheetah whistles. "Surprised you knew what it was."

"Just because I can only own ones from 75 years ago doesn't mean I'm not interested in more modern pieces."

"So you would use something from this century if you could," Aki says, running the bolt a few times.

"Maybe. Doesn't mean I don't still enjoy the ancient stuff."

She hums and sets down the shotgun, patting the sight.

"I went with an external magnet mount," she says. "There's more options for the type of optic that way."

"Wouldn't a piece of picatinny do the same a lot cheaper?" You ask.

"Magnet is slicker. Less to get caught on and less height-over-bore," the cheetah replies. She checks the charging handles on the MP5 and G3, giving them each a satisfying slap. You're surprised when she hands the latter off to you.

"C'mon," she says, waggling a boxy magazine at you. "You said you'd use it if you could."

You're at a slight loss for words. She's offered to let you run her guns before, but it's usually been paired with some snide remark about your antiquated tastes. The mirth in the cheetah's smirk now doesn't have the same bite.

"I thought you said I could run with just the pistol," you mutter, setting the tokarev down.

"You could, but this would be more fun," she replies. "It's got a sling. You'd be able to run both."

You handle the battle rifle a bit. It's heavy like the wooden long guns you're used to, but there's something that makes it handier. Probably the polymer. Years of exposure to the weapon in movies, games, and research force a smile to your face now that the gun is actually in your hands. Pulling on the heavy charging handle and feeling the roller-delay mechanism engage only makes you like it more.

But now would be a bad time to get caught breaking more laws.

"Sorry, I can't," you say, unslinging it. "You know the rules. Nothing after 1975."

"HK was making those before that," Aki says, crossing her arms, "they've barely changed!"

"I don't think that matters to Patricia," you say. The cheetah's ears flatten and her expression falls for a moment. Then anger crosses her face.

"Fuck Patricia. You can rent a Sig XM350 at Bulldog Arms, why the hell can't you use something I lend you?"

"Because there's a transaction going on there," you say. "They've got stuff in writing -- how much it costs, what it's for, what the person can do with it. It's all in the agreements you have to sign. That way if anything would happen, there's no question about who owns what and who's in the wrong."

You hold the rifle out for her to take, but the cheetah's arms stay crossed.

"So unless you want to write up a contract," you say, shaking the rifle, "I can't really do it."

Aki looks at the G3 with a scowl. She turns away and digs into one of her smaller range bags, spotted tail lashing behind her. She slams a notebook down on the shooting bench and looks at you with an angry sort of smile.

"They want it in writing?" she asks as she begins scratching at the page. "I'll give them something in writing."

You're reluctant to set the cheetah's rifle down as she fills the page with ink. You can tell she's putting her speed into it, but it's different from on the range. She flows when she's using it to dart from station to station or pull the trigger as fast as an automatic. Her movements are smooth, her spots running like liquid. But right now her movements are jagged, her fur almost spiky. It's a miracle the paper hasn't ripped yet. She doesn't stop when you look over her shoulder, too focused on the page. The cheetah finishes by slamming the pen on the bench. She pulls back with a big huff, shaking her wrist.

"There. It's on paper," she says. A hastily scratched out list of rules fills the page, saying in sarcastic, obtuse legalese that Aki is loaning the gun to you. There's a 'transaction' record beneath them: Aki paid you $69 for helping her set up the course, and charged you the same amount for renting the gun. At the bottom of the page is a hasty sketch of the two of you holding the gun and flipping the bird. It's impressive despite the roughness. Aki's tail is still lashing when you look up.

"Good enough?" she asks.

"Probably not, but what the hell," you sigh. "Hopefully Patricia is taking the day off after all the work she did."

The cheetah's expression softens a little.

"Nothing a little 7.62 can't fix," she says, hefting the rifle towards you again.

The next hour goes by in a blur. Aki explains the basics as the two of you walk out towards the course, guns and ammo clinking quietly. You're still adjusting to the spare rig she had, the straps intended for a much longer torso; at least the 1911 parts work well enough with the tokarev. The cheetah runs you through the G3 and tells you the course of fire before blazing through it herself with her MP5 and shotgun. You can barely keep pace as she darts between barriers -- much less keep track of how she's doing what she's doing.

Aki tries to lessen the pressure on you when your turn comes up, but you still feel like a toddler. Getting three hits in the C-zone on every target is hard, adrenaline or not. Even separating the 'move' and 'shoot' parts doesn't seem to help. Having the cheetah calling every hit or miss over your shoulder likely wasn't good either. When it comes time for the final round count, you missed about as many shots as you hit. The cheetah teases you a little for it, of course.

But the whole experience was still so fun that you went again and again. Getting more time behind the G3 was no small part of it. You kept it on semi just to be safe in case one of the RSOs or glowies came by -- and because you were having enough difficulty getting used to the recoil. Not that the heavy recoil was bad. Your struggles to bring the sights back on target hurt more. Combined with the booming report, it makes you feel alive. Being able to stretch the Tokarev's legs is nice as well. You've done your fair share of dry fire in the apartment, taking cover behind your couch, but doing it with live ammo was something else.

The cheetah gave you a few tips to work on as the two of you traded places. Her demonstrations and explanations were a bit lacking -- all of it was second-nature to her -- but you think you've worked some of the basics out. Each was naturally paired with some back and forth as the two of you pasted up holes on the targets. The last round you did before they were too chewed up to continue, you only missed a couple shots on each.

"Nice work," the cheetah says, unscrewing the stands. "Next time we'll put you on the clock."

"On the clock?" you repeat, doing the same. "I thought slow was smooth and smooth was fast?"

"Fast is fast, slowpoke."

You just grumble in response. She chuckles, patting you on the shoulder. "You did good, don't worry about it."

"I guess," you say. The two of you start back towards the shelter. "Thanks, Aki."

"No problem, dude. Least I could do."

The sincerity in her expression is something you're still getting used to, but you're glad it's there. Unlike the canine figure you see lurking in the shooting shelter. Your heart freezes for a moment; then you relax when you see that it's only Talia. The she-wolf's RBF is in full effect as you and Aki return to the shelter, tattered targets in hand.

"I can't believe it," Talia says, staring at you. "You finally did it."

"Told you it'd happen," the cheetah chuckles.

You look between them a bit angrily as you unsling the rifle. "What? What?!"

"I think you kno-ow," Aki teases. She leans down and grabs the G3 from you with a shit-eating grin.

"She finally got you using something made in the last century," Talia says.

"Technically, the G3 was first made in the 60s, so I --"

Aki zips her tail under your nose. She looks pleased with herself as you splutter.

"This one wasn't, professor. Remember?"

"Fuck off, Aki!"

The cheetah laughs; Talia crosses her arms and tries not to do the same. She turns to you when she manages not to, watching you undo the rig.

"Blowin’ off some steam?" she asks. You nod.

"Yeah. Sorry, it's just a lot at once. Had to clear my head. You have any luck on your end so far?"

"We'll see. Just sent a message out this morning. Might take a day or two for me to hear back from the person I actually need."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Who exactly is that?" you ask.

"Friend of a friend of a friend," she sighs. "I don't have a direct line, but they're an old firearms lawyer. The range has a few modern ones on retainer for keeping us out of trouble, and they talk. Don't think they'd be as much help as this old guy in our case."

Her ears flatten slightly as she grips her arms tight.

"How about you?" she asks. "You have any leads?"

"Not much," you sigh. "I did a lot of looking last night to try and figure out what we need. I mean, I know we're going to get a public defender, but it seems like courtship law is weird. No clue if we're going to get someone that knows how to work it."

"There specialists out there for it?" Aki asks, already moving onto her next shooting bag.

"Yeah," you say, turning to Talia with a frown. "But that's gonna be extra money we don't have."

Talia's ear twitches; Aki stiffens beside you. She makes an unhappy, raspy sound in her throat.

"We'll wait until we meet our DA," the she-wolf says. "What else can we do? Did you figure anything out about evidence or witnesses?"

You groan; letting the slide chunk forward on the tokarev helps a little.

"Not much useful. Part of the reason it's a pain in the ass is that there's not much case law to go off and what there is isn't standard. People have brought in photos, anniversary gifts, double date partners -- but seems like a lot is up to the judge."

You let the hammer fall.

"And nine times out of ten, they just decide it's not good enough."

Talia's nostrils flare as the click echoes softly. You share a tired gaze, forcing yourself to keep it together. Aki looks between the two of you, an old Beretta twirling about her finger.

"Well, if you need a witness," she says, "just make out and I'll vouch for ya."

You and the she-wolf groan, bringing a grin to the cheetah's face.

"Jesus Christ, Aki..." Talia says, shaking her head.

"What? Wouldn't want to lie in court," she chuckles. "But really, maybe get people from the range or from F&F. Them saying 'I've known these two were together since x' is better than nothing, right?"

"Probably," you sigh. "Talia, you want to look into that and I'll look into courtship specialists?"

The she-wolf huffs, tail wagging slightly. "Seems like I'm doing a lotta the work here, Anon..."

"You're the big, strong anthro in the relationship," you tease, putting the tokarev away. "That's what you're supposed to do, right?"

"Fuck off, Anon."

Aki snickers with you. She clicks the mag into some AR derivative and claps you on the back.

"You did some work, Anon," she says. "Gimmie your phone -- I'll give you my number. You can text me whenever you guys get your DA sorted."

You unlock your phone and give it to her with little issue. You trust the cheetah -- and she did just turn this session of blowing off steam into at least some minor progress.

"Switching to the Webley?" she asks when she notices you packing up the Tokarev.

"Nah, I should probably go," you say. You glance over at Talia with a smile. "Getting the feeling the missus thinks I've had enough fun for one day."

"Do not call me 'the missus,'" Talia says; you and Aki snicker some more. "You're not inspiring me to marry your sorry ass, Anon!"

"That's alright, Talia --"

You freeze at the familiar voice.

"--we all know you never were going to."

Patricia looks as smug as she did yesterday. She saunters into the shelter with her hands on her hips like some corrupt sheriff, handcuffs her clinking spurs. Talia's muzzle curls, and you notice Aki slowly lowering her pistol.

"What do you want, Birch?" Talia asks.

"Justice. That's all I've ever wanted," the shepherd replies, grin still on her face. "But I'm here to fulfill a warrant."

The she-wolf lets out a low growl when Pat's gaze turns to you. You force yourself to stay quiet and calm; she can smell fear, just like all the horny anthros you get at the library.

"Anon Anonerson, you are hereby ordered to surrender your Kolibri pistol under suspicion of illegal modification," she says, pulling out a rolled-up paper from her belt. "If you do not comply, I will be forced to detain you."

Talia's growl rises in tenor, and you hear a click from behind you. Patricia holds the paper out to you while giving the other two anthros a glare.

"...interference with the execution of a warrant is an obstruction of justice charge. Doubt you'll be hanging out here after that."

The words 'Search and Seizure" are printed in bold letters at the top of the form. You're no legal expert, but it looks legit -- your name is there, it's signed by someone other than her with a fancy title, and it only lists the Kolibri. And it's definitely within the time limit. She returns to giving you a predatory grin when you're finished, leaning down with a sneer.

"So, Anonerson... do you have it with you? Because if not, you're --"

"Yeah."

Her ears prick and her eyes widen. She pulls back with a scowl as you slowly turn and rummage through your range bag. For once, not cleaning it out was a good thing. Patricia holds her hand out expectantly when you retrieve the case -- then chuckles when you open it.

"We're adding 'tampering with evidence' to the list of charges, are we?"

"Nah, just getting you what you wanted," you say, plucking out the tiny pistol from its slot.

"Don't play games with me, Anon!"

"I'm not!" you say, forcing your voice even as you dangle the tiny piece in front of her. "The warrant says 'your Kolibri pistol.' And that's what you said. It said nothing about the case, the magazines, or the ammo."

Patricia's gaze stays locked with yours as she pulls up her own copy of the warrant, crumpling it in her grasp when she finds that you're right. She snatches the little pistol and puts it in an evidence bag. You suppress a shake when it disappears into one of her belt pouches; you're a cocktail of emotions, and you know if you let any one of them show, you're fucked. The German shepherd's hawkish gaze passes over the cluttered table to Aki.

"You weren't giving the human your guns to play with, were you, miss --"

"Call me Aki, fed," the cheetah interrupts. "What does it matter to you?"

"Mr. Anonerson is under investigation for illegal possession," Patricia says. "It's my job to find any evidence that he --"

"Your job is causing misery," Aki interrupts again, her grip on the Beretta tightening. "Now fuck off."

Your heart sinks as the dog smells blood. Patricia smiles, pushing past you to look down at Aki. The cheetah's face is wrinkled with anger, so much that her hands shake.

"Listen, cat; you're going to answer me or you'll end up in just as much shit as these two. Now tell me; did you give Anon your guns?"

Aki doesn't break the gaze between them. She shows a hint of fang before turning into a blur. Patricia just barely starts reaching for her pistol when the cheetah solidifies again, a piece of notebook paper shoved right in the ATF agent's face. Your heart sinks when you realize what she just did.

"Sure. Here's the fucking contract," she growls. "Now get the fuck out and let me get back to my practice."

Patricia hesitantly takes the paper with a grimace. Her expression doesn't change when she lets it drop.

"I'll be watching you," she tells the cheetah. Aki's still shaking when the shepherdess turns to you and Talia, her expression slightly more mirthful. "And I'll be seeing you two in a few days."

You clench your fists as she stalks off. The shelter is quiet, the soft sound of paws on gravel quickly fading away. That was a close call all around. You're the first to move when you slowly put the Kolibri's case away. The casings jingle softly against the ancient velvet.

"Fuck," Aki hisses. She slaps the bolt release on her rifle and snatches her shotgun, carrying both towards the course with a lashing tail. You watch her for a moment, then grab your bag. Talia falls in line with you as you leave. She looks at you expectantly.

"Guessing that was goodbye," you say.

The she-wolf grunts.

"Guess so."

The two of you don't say a proper goodbye either; Talia just splits off, heading back towards the further-off bays. You pull out your phone to check if your DA has been assigned yet; a message notification pops up. Your heart races a little, but it's only the notification that Aki and you shared contacts. Then something catches your eye. It looks like she sent a message to you already.

Hey man, if you ever want to cool off with all the stuff going on, just let me know. You seem pretty cool for a nerd.

A string of rifle cracks ring out around the range, followed by a series of shotgun booms nearly as fast.

You don't think you're the only one that needs cooling off.