Lawful and Indecent

Part One: The Pilfering

"You still want in?" smirked Nick Wilde, eagerly peering over his two cards with elbows propped up on the green, fuzzy poker tabletop. The game was like a battlefield laid out in the form of a king of spades, two aces, a three of hearts, a nine of hearts, and the last of Nick's chips. The room was pulsating with intense anticipation, rising and weaving between the crimson lights, which flared out the brilliant green of Nick's shirt with the trademark khakis. The techno club music blasted repeatedly over the loudspeakers, bass rampaging, nearly drowning out every conversation from the countless onlookers of Nick's magnificent bluff. That sly fox...they could never understand him. How could you bet so rambunctiously on such a terrible night? Yet Nick had refused to give up and go home, committing the entirety of his composure to the taunt and bait rather than the secret of his hand.

It was all directed at the pudgy pig wearing a monocle and a grey, dapper suit at the opposite end of it, who fiddled with a cigar between his fingers. The folded players were just as perplexed at Nick's bravery as the spectators. He snorted and averted his attention to the huge pot of red, green, and white chips that had accumulated in the center of the table, then back to Nick, maintaining the same blank expression.

"I don't have all night, pal," Nick purred, raising an eyebrow.

"Boy, you've got some nerve to come in here with that attitude," the pig grunted at last. Despite his perplexity, he had a slight tone of respect in his voice.

"All right, big guy, nobody's asking you to get offended," Nick coaxed as the commotion of the crowd became increasingly agitated, but all it got was a faint snicker from the pig's lips. He leaned back and drew illegible squiggles in the air with the smoke residue of his cigar, hardly moving a muscle of his unreadable social guise.

"Sharp tongue for a man with everything to lose," the pot-bellied gangster chuckled as he called his all in, throwing a flurry of multicolored chips into the pot. "All right, pup, whatcha got?"

Nick tilted his head, rather satisfied as he splayed out his hand: two kings to match the one on the board, as well as the aces on the deck.

"Full house," he declared, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, unphased by it all. "You?"

The pig took one look at the kings and belched out the loudest laugh he had ever heard, scoffing as he revealed his hand. Nick sat there, dumbstruck. The old bloke was hiding a pair of aces the whole time! That's four of a kind! There was nothing he could do but stare in disbelief as the hog raked in all the chips, the crowd hooting and hollering at the climax. He started to blush under his orange fur, half in anger and half in embarrassment. He was sure he saw an ace hiding under the burn pile of cards. He was sure he saw that filthy pig reach under the table for something hidden.

But he sighed because he had no proof. He left the table so fast, he couldn't remember if he had thanked him for the game or not. He just needed to get out. Anything to take the pain off. But that's not how it was working.

As he was passing by the slot machines placed closely by the main entrance, Finnick spotted his troubled guise staring deeply into the tiled flooring. He walked up behind Nick, noticing more of what that look on his face meant with each step.

He jumped up and tapped him on the shoulder. "Did they kick your ass again at poker?"

"Let's just go home," Nick sighed, trying hard not to lose his cool as he walked in shame towards the exit, ears down in disappointment. Finnick easily obliged, and before long, they had found their own way out the door.

The raggedy tour bus of two rolled swiftly out of the parking lot and onto the road in the dark woods just as quickly as he had lost. Nick was at the wheel, ears back and gripping it as hard as his teeth were clenched under his lips, scowling and trying furiously not to be disappointed. But it was all too easy to witness from Finnick, his arms and legs crossed over each other the seat like an impatient child. Had the night gone differently, they would be joking and laughing the whole ride home, reminiscing of the money they had won. They'd be blasted their favorite music for the swan song of a successful evening. Everything would have been fine, and it was usually like this. But now all that could happen was a wordless conversation of Nick cursing himself and Finnick staring him down.

He scoffed and took a cigarette out ten minutes into the drive, finally averting his eyes from the fox. He made sure there was an ashtray in the car, then lit the end of it. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the smoke, feeling that familiar, tender warmth flow through his lungs and out through his nostrils as pleasantly as it was brought in.

Nick slowly turned to the left but was caught off guard by the sudden aroma of nicotine and accidentally drove up onto the curb. He cursed loudly as the car jolted to the side, rattling some of the junk Finnick left around the van. As weak as it was, it completely blew his guise. He grunted, shaking with the car as it repositioned itself back on the road. Nick made sure to take it slower after that.

"I don't know why you're smoking in my car at two in the morning," Nick mumbled as he exhaled, still gazing half-eyed forward, "but you could at least open up the window first."

"Right," Finnick obliged, rolling it down and releasing the smoke. His right hand gestured uncomfortably as he extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray. "Man, you know I need one of those after tonight. That was fuckin' awful." His voice was low and raspy from sleep deprivation.

"I swear to god, that one sloth always cheats at poker," Nick shot back, hardly surprised that he was letting himself give in. "You saw him draw that six from his sleeve, right? I'm pretty sure it was the third or fourth hand we had. It was in plain sight, man, he just..."

"Son of a bitch, Nick," he moaned, covering his eyes and sinking further into his seat, "nobody cheats at poker with sixes! We went over this!"

"Come on, Finnick, you saw how many people were sneaking past the rulebook in that room!" Nick gestured a hand in the windshield, now wide eyed in his reflection.

"What, the flamingo in the short sleeves?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake, I saw that guy bending over to the back of the slot machine with a screwdriver trying to get it open."

"That wasn't him, Nick. That's the guy that works there."

He paused. "What? That's not what I saw."

"You pointed to a cat tail. That guy was drunk off his ass, he wasn't cheating nobody." He started to light another cigarette. "See, this is why people laugh at you when you get upset."

He could only sigh in response to keep himself somewhat collected. "Look, we've never seen those guys before. That was a gang from outside of town that knew how to hide the cards, and they knew how to play the dealer like a fool."

"Well you're lookin' like the fool, now!" Finnick lost his temper, nearly choking as he breathed out the smoke. "We were only in there for an hour, how'd you lose all your fucking money?!"

"All right, all right, easy there, short stop," Nick rolled his eyes in the midst of his rant. "It was just a couple thousand dollars, not the full bank. I can get that back in a couple of weeks if I just hustle."

"Yeah, but the rent's in a couple of days."

"The r-..." Nick slammed on the brakes, hurling both of them forward in the protection of their seat belts. In any other scenario this would have hurt them both, but there were no cars around, and he had been driving in a quiet section of town. His hands clapped over his muzzle as the car came to a complete stop, eyes now wide with disbelief.

"Oh my god..." he turned to the right to face Finnick, mouth agape, eyes shot and completely out of his mind. "Oh my god, the rent!" He lunged over to match his paws to his friend's shoulders, gripping them tight. "Why didn't you remind me of the rent?!"

"What?! What'd you expect me to do? It's your place, not mine!"

"Tell me how I'm gonna pay the rent!"

"All right, all right, paws off of me!" Finnick unbuckled his seat belt and pushed Nick away with all his force. Nick faltered back into his seat and cupped his hands over his forehead, hanging it in shame and shutting his eyes hard. He looked like a panicking mess with his unfurled clothing from the brakes under the crude van's overhead light.

"I can't believe I forgot the rent!" he wailed again. He moaned this again and again in the seat.

"Well, then you shoulda told me instead of going to the casino," Finnick rolled his eyes, lighting yet another cigarette. "Hate to say it, but it's true."

The moment he accepted this, he stopped groaning at his own dismay. The grip he held on his head became lighter. He was stressed out, but just clear enough to think more rationally. Maybe he had enough money left in the bank. Maybe the electric bill wasn't so expensive this time around. Perhaps he could even borrow some cash last minute. He breathed deeply and sulked back in his seat, not bothering to continue driving and instead letting these thoughts flow through him.

"You're right...." Nick sighed, revealing an eye to Finnick.

When he was finally through with weighing all his options, he opened his eyes with a ponderous exterior. He thought little about the consequences of what he had done, and more about what he could do in the present. There had to be a solution, and Nick had just thought of it.

"...You know what?" Nick mused, putting on the gas again

"What? What's the problem? You look anxious."

"I've got an idea."

Finnick tried to question Nick's intentions, but he was too focused on his unsung plan to respond. He wasn't sure where he was taking them, but he trusted that he hadn't gone completely off the rails. Besides, he recognized the directions just fine. Within moments, they had travelled from an old neighborhood road parked far outside of Zootopia and into the mouth of the main city. There was scarcely a yellowish glow seeping its way through the curtains of the windows betwixt the otherwise darkened, tall buildings in all shades of midnight blue, kissed softly by the tender moonlight. What didn't illuminate the sky from the stars were decorated in the emerald green flickers of fireflies and street lights amidst the labyrinth of apartment complexes, stores, and recreational facilities, as if it were putting on a show in the aftermath of a busy day.

The roads he travelled were becoming increasingly familiar by the second, and that shoved a dumbbell in Finnick's heart. "Okay, hang on a second, where are we goin'?"

"Why?"

Finnick hesitated, nervously tracing his eyes around the environment outside the car. "...I'm not gonna say anything specific, but, ah...this path looks a little familiar."

"Yeah," he nodded, turning his head towards his friend. "We're gonna break in."

Finnick jumped high, like he was dodging a snake bite. "What?!"

Nick parked the car a couple of blocks away from the place he worked, stopped on the side of the road next to a fenced-in cemetery just outside of the establishment. "Yep. We're breakin' in."

"What are you, crazy? Who the hell breaks into a police department?" Finnick jabbed, palms up and amazed. "That's like stealing the Declaration!"

"There's a safe in the back. Can't tell you where for security reasons."

"Nick, I can assure you, the last time you should be bringing up security is right before you break into a fucking police department!" Finnick interjected.

"Yeah, but it's my police department," Nick said, loosening up his tie, dragging it out from his neck. "and I just so happen to know all the outs and ins of it."

"For fuck's sake, Nick..."

"Let me walk you through it," Nick raised his eyebrow and smirked towards him as he traded the phone in his pocket for the tie to make room for it. "I work from nine to eight at the department, and I'm not always asked to go look for trouble. That's not what you'd necessarily want from the new guy, anyway. So, I get around. I hear things. I walk into every nook and cranny of the facility, and overtime, I learned every single secret security protocol there is to offer."

"This is ridiculous..."

"And so, naturally," Nick held a finger up at him, "I heard that there just so happens to be a safe secretly stowed away in a particular part of the room. The reason it's there is because it's much more dangerous to keep it all in a bank account, in the same place that anybody else could have it stolen."

"What about the night shift? The cameras?"

"Won't be a problem," Nick smirked, putting the phone in the cup holder. "I don't mean to brag, but I've been at this for a while."

"Nick," Finnick gritted his teeth and grabbed him by the shirt sleeve. "Six months is not a long time!"

"Well, it's enough time," Nick corrected as his hand reached onto the handle behind him. "At some point, they had to stow some evidence in the safe for a bit, and I overheard someone repeat the combination as they were unlocking it. The woman thought she was alone and read it out loud to herself."

"She didn't hear you?"

"Tinnitus," Nick concluded as he opened the door. "I didn't think I'd have to do this, but here we go. You know, I'm offering this teensy little favor one last time...it'd be a lot easier with-."

"You're a fucking idiot," Finnick chided, facepalming in his seat.

"Point taken," he confidently chuckled under his breath. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes tops, get the hell out of here." He gave one final salutation as he closed the door behind him, walking into the breezy city atmosphere. He could hear Finnick's muffled grumbles of frustration from outside the car, but he wasn't about to second guess himself. Not at one in the morning. It was this or watch the clock tick to the doomsday. What mistakes have been made must be undone.

And after this, I'll find a way to repay them, Nick promised himself as he jogged down the cobblestone path to the police station, disappearing again and again into the void between the street lights as they grew fewer towards his destination.

It's not stealing if it's just a loan that no one knows about. I'll sneak the money back, even if it's just a dollar at a time. It'll be back before they know it.

He stopped when he finally emerged from the side of the huge, courtroom styled building to inhale through his nose, taking a moment to look at that plaza; that single vessel of hope lying dormant and gargantuan before him.

Just like the good ol' days.

He collapsed and scurried across the plaza on all fours, swaying in a calculated, unrecognizable pattern to avoid any pools of light. Any convenient shadow from a tree or part of building would make him that much more undetectable. But that was only the easy part. Once he climbed up the short staircases and reached the outer plaza, he had to pause for a few fleeting moments. He couldn't get a good look at them, but somewhere, the hidden cameras were on and ready for his next movement. Whoever was looking them over wasn't his worry; it was the motion capture alarms. He knew that he had passed all the outside cameras other than the ones that could only detect him in between the four pillars surrounding the doors, so he made sure to stay directly behind one of them. He took cover behind the leftmost one. It took him a while before he could even stop holding his breath as he prayed the motion captures wouldn't turn on, but they never did as he reached the doors. He sighed in relief and swiped his identification card, unlocking the doors.

All the light that seeped its way through the glass walls and doors were gently outlining the furniture, the floor tiles, hallway thresholds and doors. The sounds of gentle breezes and city buzzing were replaced with silence, periodically interrupted by the distinct sound of someone loudly snoring. Nick nodded to himself, satisfied with his prediction; that was sure to be Officer Clawhauser napping in the job. And sure enough, there he was, in the center of the room at the main desk like he always was, his chubby head back and slouched onto the chair with a box of donuts off to the side. Nick had to stop himself from chuckling. That old, fat cheetah could never keep up a decent night shift, so he certainly couldn't catch an earful of Nick creeping through the wide, empty interior.

The high ceilings and spread apart walls were atrocious. If the most subtle footsteps of his weren't echoing through every corner of the building, his heartbeat surely was. He had even begun to grit his teeth at the thought of getting caught. He knew that more cameras were watching, but he wasn't going to try to disable any cameras - yet. Besides, watching them was Clawhauser's job. He just had to get to the safe room.

He clutched his tail to his chest to shrink his obviousness and made his way down the rightmost hallway. The walls were of bare, brown hardwood and polished, wooden doors, and followed the directions marked on the walls, looking for room twenty-three. He wasn't cautious about this one, as he knew it didn't have any tricks.

Now comes the part he couldn't practice. Crouching down to look closely at the floor, he pawed and softly knocked on each of the square tiles, feeling out their position, hoping for the one he's looking for. Nick thought he heard a footstep just once, which made him whirl his head around, perking his ears up in guilty anxiety, but finding nobody. He poked and prodded and shifted each of the tiles until he had found just the one. He pried it out of the ground and pressed the button underneath. Just as he had expected, the wall that was parallel to room twenty-three shifted and spread apart in two like an elevator. He was weary about the rumble it caused as he second guessed his intentions, and it slowly revealed the secret passageway behind it.

The house settled, and all that stood before him was a dark rectangle in an empty hallway that lead to a single room. The secret chamber was quaint and well kempt despite its extreme isolation, with two bookshelves to either sides, possibly full of top secret criminal records. At the back of the room, lying in plain sight underneath a hanging lightbulb, was a stainless steel pirate's wheel over a hefty metal dome that bulged outwards; at last, the gateway to the safe!

Nick relaxed and put his nose up to the ceiling to breathe a sigh of relief - though it turned out to be only a second of grace as a mysterious noise hissed in the perimeter, shocking him to his very core. Suddenly, the chamber shook with an unknown energy, knocking books onto the floor and disrupting the room's only light source. He quickly crouched back down, putting his hands over the back of his head and ducking as he heard book after book pelt against the floor like an avalanche. It scared him to death! It was so loud! What if Clawhauser woke up?! Did someone find him? It made his heart beat out of his chest at this unexpected event.

As the chaos died down and the last book had fallen, he listened closely for footsteps. Nothing...good. He opened his eyes to a maze of bright red infrared lasers that stretched from one side of the room to the other, shot from tiny metal cylinders from the insides of the bookcases. It seemed that the only books that fell were the ones hiding the lasers. Their patterns were seemingly random like a spider web, but Nick was not phased by this at all.

How cliché, he thought, rolling up to a standing position. He took a careful step in a spot in between the beams. Okay, so...how do they do this in the movies? He wriggled his slender body between the red lines, feeling its threatening heat upon his fur and praying nothing was too sensitive. His heart nearly skipped a beat every time he had to move one leg, leaving him awkwardly suspended for seconds at a time, desperately keeping his balance as his inserted it through another convenient triangle between the lasers. The stress was unbearable, but he kept going. The strain on his leg and back muscles were screaming, but now was no time to stop. It would be a horrible fate if he were to...

His foot slipped as he attempted to bend it over another beam, and just like that, his body began to collapse! Panicking, he lurched himself towards the bookcase on the wall, praying that he would not graze a laser. He found himself on his toes at a diagonal with the bookcase, hauling the other half of himself by two latched hands onto two different books, hoisting himself up from a devastating laser positioned just below Nick's splayed out body. Thank god he left the tie back in the car!

His feet were slipping in the opposite direction, slowly descending him involuntarily. The traction of his soles failed him, and he quickly found himself at the edge of his toes. His eyes were locked onto the beam down below, breathing rampantly with regret. His chest was about two inches from the laser and gaining, and his hope was beginning to dwindle. But suddenly, he noticed something strange about the book he was clutching in his left hand. The inertia wasn't right, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. It seemed to tilt towards him instead of to the side. The further it did, the more easily Nick could see something shining behind it. He peered at it briefly, drawing attention away from the laser, to realize that it was something attached to the book itself.

Without thinking, he pulled it out in desperation, destroying his balance altogether. Nick collapsed to the floor, and he clapped his hands over his head and ears to muffle the sound of the alarm. The synapses spiking through his head were of nothing but regret and apprehensive despair over the screaming sirens of defeat....except there were no sirens. He opened his eyes and found that he could stand up to his feet. He turned and pivoted around, confused to find that all of the lasers had been disabled. He turned back to the book he had clutched to, noticing it was now perpendicular to the wall, jointed by a shiny metal fulcrum. He let out a slightly confused sigh of relief, realizing that it was actually a lever disguised as a book. Odd, but he'll take it. In his curiosity, Nick saw that the title read "Lying in Plain Sight: Working the Morning Shift as an Undercover Cop". Must have been a useless copy.

His spirits were rejuvenated as his steps reverberated off the walls and his tail dragged behind him, at last approaching the large safe door. This was it. He had perfectly memorized the combination; nothing could stop him. His fingers interlaced with the silver halo, rotating its massive form to each number. His ear was adjacent to the door, impatient and ecstatic at every subtle click behind the metal.

Left, right, left, right...forty-five, two, six, twenty-one, sixty-eight, twenty-seven...the crude, white light above was like a heavenly glow to accompany his pulsating wave of satisfaction. When it opened up, it screamed a heavy creak with a gust of wind, flowing at an angle so wide he had to back up a myriad of steps just to give it room. His eyes widened with devious interest at the stacks upon stacks of dollars - huge blocks of it, bound by rubber bands and scattered across the surprisingly large interior. It was more money than Nick could ever even hope to see in his life. The fur prickled up on his neck down to his spine in shivering excitement, thinking of what we would do with it all...

He was like an overexcited eel, counting the twenties, fifties and hundreds, biting his tongue to break even with the rent rather than overflow his pockets with cash. He didn't want to over-steal. They'd find that out too quickly. Plus, he had way too much respect from this place, and he was determined to treat it as a loan. And so remorseless and fruitless Nick counted aloud:

"One thousand three hundred fifty...one thousand three hundred seventy...one thousand three hundred-"

"...Years in jail."

Nick gasped ferociously and whirled around, mouth agape and ripped entirely from his mojo. It felt like his stomach dropped into his heels. Standing in the doorway was the furiously disappointed, half-silhouetted figure of Chief Bogo, staring him down with his huge, beefy arms crossed and a scowl of deep agitation. The horns on his head made it look like the face of Hell eyeing his very soul from no more than thirty feet away. He wasn't going to let Nick say a word, taking furious steps closer to him, revealing that he was still wearing his pajamas: a white muscle shirt with black gym shorts. Another step closer revealed a belt, from which he pulled out his handcuffs in a fist.

"No, no, no, wait! Stop! You don't understand!" Nick pleaded, throwing what money he had back into the safe while backing his way up towards it. "I can explain, I swear! The rent is due tomorrow, I was just making a loan!"

"The last thing I intend to give sympathy to," Chief Bogo snarled as he knocked Nick to his back, causing him to grunt while the handcuffs shackled his wrists behind his back, "is a traitor of both the police department and the people. Now, I have to keep you into the overnight cell and deal with your sentencing in the morning. I wasn't expecting something like this from you, Officer Wilde."

"Okay, now, hang on, there..." Nick cooed as he was forced to ascend to his feet, being led out by the huge bull. "Hang on, hang on, I know that this looks bad, but..."

"Tell it to the judge."

"Well, it would be a hell of a lot easier if I could tell you," Nick looked straight up at the bull.

"I'm not falling for your tricks, Officer Wilde," Bogo said as he slammed the safe door shut behind him with his right hand, spinning the wheel once to the right whilst holding the visibly shaking Nick in place with the other. He was fighting to hold his guise, taking subtle, deep breaths at an unsteady pace. "Officer Warner had already told me how skeptical he was of your inauguration already, and I must admit, I'm a fool for shrugging it off."

"Yeah, but it's because I tell him how I spend my money," Nick breathed, gasping for bodily pacification. He needed this composure. "Now...like I said, the rent is due. I have a lot of work to do for the department, and I have proven that I'm vital for it. Multiple times."

"Everybody has work to do."

"Yes, but I've been left with three of the most important cases on Zootopia grounds. I just can't do that if I can't live here."

"Wilde, I will not be bribed with an offering that I can easily let someone else do," Bogo said. "If you needed to pay the rent, you should've just saved up and paid it yourself."

"True, and I'm not criticizing your pay. That's the last thing I want to do here." Nick fidgeted with his fingers behind his back as the Chief led him out of the room. He felt like he was getting the hang of it. "Listen, the pla-er, the idea was that I would take some money out of here as a loan, and then slowly overtime, pay it all back. It wouldn't have been much, I promise. I'm a desperate man, I admit it, but I've gotta do what I can to keep working here."

"You've got a lot of nerve to believe you're ever working for this facility again!" Chief Bogo snapped behind him, his voice booming like a cannonball due to the size difference.

Nick started to lose his cool. He wasn't going to cry, but he was far more shaken up than he had felt in years. "Please, please! Just let me explain my situation! I have no money, I needed some help! Anything but jail time!"

"It doesn't matter."

"No, no, wait! It does matter! I have three more cases to solve! I-I can show you all the documents! We can talk about this!" He let through some of his true emotion.

"Like I said, we can just get someone else on those cases."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Nick began to question faster as he walked further down the hallway. "I...I used to be a bad man, Chief, and I know a lot of bad people. I can find them if you let me do this!"

The chief paused, and without hesitation, Nick did, as well. There was silence at last. The shivering fox was relieved in it, but it almost seemed as if...Bogo was, too?

"Yes, I know, I did something awful..." Nick admitted, almost whispering now. "I should have never broken into that safe. It was a terrible, juvenile thing to do. But I needed the money to continue doing my job, and if I don't get on those cases, we're both risking lives out there. Please. Let me do my part."

The only sound that existed in the hallway was Nick's deep breathing as he waited for a response. He didn't dare to turn around. He quietly wished this whole problem would go away as he stood there, a sitting duck, regretting his every decision that led up to this moment as he waited for the response.

"Come into my office with me," he grumbled annoyedly, yet sounding far more sympathetic than Nick had anticipated. The office light flooded the room with white light; hope, if you're that poetic. Once they were inside, he took the handcuffs off and instructed Nick not to leave, or he would be sure to regret it.

Okay, Nick thought. I can't fuck this up.

The chief had gotten a cup of coffee from the machine in the room, expecting the worst. They sat down in the brightly lit office and talked it out for a long while. Nick was fully aware that he was still in the red zone. With Nick's far smaller size and still recovering composure, he naturally felt the need to overemote his gestures to describe these three criminals. The persuasion would inevitably be rough at first with Nick's nervous stammering, but after ten minutes or so, the room began to chill. The chief's responses turned from signs of boredom to mildly interested nods. He even built the chief up to the similar levels of understanding each other at times. As ironic as the tales would tell, nothing in that moment deemed worthy of shame. All was still in the conversation of the troubled fox and the bewildered bull.

But eventually, the two understood that the meeting must reach its conclusion.

"I'm glad we were able to connect like this, Officer Wilde," Chief Bogo said, fully relieving Nick at the use of the word "officer". He continued his speech as he drowsily rose from his chair to use the coffee machine in the corner of the room. "Though, I have to remind you again; we cannot allow criminals to go unpunished."

"Yeah, I know..." Nick mused. "But, uh, as I'm sure you are aware by now, I'm...very busy."

"Wilde, if we were to let this go, there's no telling what you would do," Bogo explained, finally looking back at him. "I get the need to let this go, but that won't happen. That is not how it works for anybody who walks into this room. You understand?"

"Yes, sir.

"So then what do you suppose I'd do?" Bogo asked.

Nick wanted to reply, but could not find the words. He stammered illegibly. Bogo exhaled in frustration, feeling equal with Nick.

"We can't leave this room until we come to an agreement," Bogo said, walking to his desk and reaching under it. He pulled out a familiar handbook titled "ZPD Code of Conduct", which he placed in front of Nick. "And we can't be here all night."

"I don't know about that," Nick raised an eyebrow at the book's red and gold cover. "I don't think anything in this book would give a good solution."

Bogo paused, leaning back to his standard position and giving an equivalent eyebrow. "And why's that?"

"Because those laws are mostly concerned with actual prisoners; not the punishments for the officers. Earlier in our conversation, you said that nobody has betrayed the ZPD in a hundred years." Nick acknowledged. "We can find something better."

"Are you saying these laws are broken?"

"No, no, no, of course not." Nick's voice trailed off and rose again with his dialect. "I'm saying that we might need to go back in time a little bit. Do you have a copy of the old handbook?"

Bogo nodded, opening one of the cabinets in the row on the wall behind him. When he turned back around, he presented a smaller brown book to Nick, dusty and rickety with age and overall neglect. The title had been withered away from the cover. Immediately, he flipped straight to the middle and through the pages to find something that fit. He didn't know what he wanted, or what alternatives he had; he just wanted a solution.

He was half hoping they would not find a solution, and he'd be let off with a warning. But when he flipped the last page, his heart dropped as he saw the title: "Officer Misconduct". He gave the book back to the chief and awaited his punishment. "Perhaps there will be something there."

He sat back in his chair, nervously expecting community service. The bull skimmed through each of the pages, occasionally flipping them back and forth to find exactly what he's looking for. Every now and then, he peered up to make sure Nick was still there, but he didn't dare to budge. All he wanted to do was be patient enough for his sentence so he could get back to work.

Bogo seemed to be stuck on two of the pages. He pursed his lips and flipped between them anxiously, becoming more interested every time he went over them again. He looked back up to Nick, slightly appalled at what he had just read.

He sighed and said, "I'm going to give you one more chance to take your arrest."

"No, sir," Nick replied solemnly.

Bogo nodded and cleared his throat. "It says here on section thirteen point two, that if an officer must bring shameless acts of debauchery upon the department, thereby stealing the property of said department, then they must either accept the charges brought against that person, or endure the humiliation of turning in his uniform."

Nick's heart sank. "You mean...I'm fired?"

Bogo sighed again. "No."

"...What?"

"It literally means to give up your uniform."

Nick was still, then began to chuckle in misunderstanding. His small laughs of confusion only grew more obvious as Bogo's expression remained completely unchanged. He stood puzzled until his smile completely faded. Only then did he realize that he was not wearing a police uniform.

"But...if I'm not fired..."

"A week," he said. "You have to give it up for a week."

"What is the meaning of this?"

The chief just eyed him.

"Chief?" Nick trembled, turning his face away and side eying the chief. "Wh...where are you going with this?"

Bogo closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before speaking.

"It means you must spend all of next week's shifts...

naked."

Nick staggered back in his chair enough to break a leg or two, riled up and utterly baffled by what he had just heard. "What?!"

"It's an old punishment meant to change the perpetrator through humiliation," Chief Bogo put the book back down. "Instead of firing the officer, he would have to know his place, and so must everybody around him."

"That's asinine!" Nick retorted.

"This is the only law that fits."

"...Oh, you can't be serious," Nick snickered, regaining his disbelief. "Public nudity would give anyone a fine of thirty thousand dollars and jail time for up to five years!"

"Your rights will be fully protected by the ZPD," Bogo replied, "I will have to explain it to the department in the morning. You will remain on your mission duties on the outskirts of the town."

"Outside?" Nick whined. "In broad daylight?"

"It's warm out."

"But everybody's gonna see my dick!"

"Yeah?"

"...A-and my ass..."

"Yeah. That's what public nudity is."

"My ass and my dick, chief! I can't go walking around with my junk loose!"

"Shouldn't have stolen from that safe, then," Bogo shrugged, outstretching his hand. "I'll be confiscating your uniform now."

"Now?!" Nick questioned. "Can't we start tomorrow?"

"Now." His voice became noticeably stern. "That's an order."

Nick gulped. He knew that he had no choice. So he slowly brought his wrists up to the top button of his green shirt. He pouted to himself, wanting to curse loudly. Then he unbuttoned it. Then the next one. And the next. And the next. He could feel his face light up as the shirt became looser, and the room became colder. He handed over the shirt to Bogo, turning his head away and crossing his arms as Bogo continued to stare him down with the same blank expression.

"There. There's my shirt. Okay? I'll go shirtless."

"Rules are rules."

"God dammit, Chief, why don't we just-"

"No swearing in my office!"

"Okay, geez, fine, they're coming off..."

His paws reluctantly gripped around the edges of his brown shorts, lips quivering in humiliation as he looked back up to the chief. He took a deep breath and slid both his pants and underwear down at the same time, exposing his maroon boxers and fully nude orange and tan body to his own chief. His cock hanged low at five inches soft, dangling like a pendulum as the trousers came off, and his balls felt oddly chilled in the new atmosphere. Yet despite his length, he was completely at a loss for words. He sighed and passed the last of his clothes over to Bogo's huge hand. Now his face was really burning up. Reflexively, he covered up his crotch with his tail, holding it with both hands as he looked up at the chief with a scowl. The chief looked away, then walked over to the right side of the room at a peculiar looking metal hatch. It sort of looked like a mailbox. In a second's time, he had opened it up, thrown the clothes into it, and closed it with a slam. Just like that, his outfit was gone.

"Wh-what was that?" Nick stuttered.

"I transported your clothes into the safe room," Bogo responded almost provocatively. "I don't suppose we'll be going in there again, hmmm?" Nick gritted his teeth and tried not to speak out as Bogo turned to reach into the cabinet farthest to the right, pulling out a small, O-shaped metal device with red, glass bulbs bulging out the sides. "Now, hold still."

Nick bowed his head a bit since running was useless. He stared down at his slim, naked body. It was so hard to believe this was happening. It was like the dreams he used to have about being nude in school. But the difference is, you'd wake up and live normally. Not continue on with your job!

He heard Bogo's huge footsteps walking around the right of him, but he was far too embarrassed to look up. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, he yipped when he felt a strong weight pulling on his tail, away from his junk. It was raised in the air, forcing him to cover up with his hands. Then came the cold kiss of a metal ring around his tail, followed by a strange ka-chunk!. After that, Bogo walked back behind his desk, though the strange clamping around his tail remained.

"What's this?" Nick asked.

"I've just installed a shocking device to your tail," Bogo described calmly, returning to his seat behind the desk. "If you bring it forward, it will give you a shock until you return it to behind your back where it belongs. This was also a necessary procedure to avoid cheating. Understood?"

"Oh, come on, why do you even have a device like that?"

"They're for various situations in criminal investigations," Bogo replied. "You wouldn't know about them. Or, uh, now you do."

He rolled his eyes, waving his tail up and down to get used to the feeling. "Fine. Are there any other rules to this ridiculousness?"

"Yes, hold on a moment," Bogo replied calmly, picking up the book again and flipping to the page he was on, putting his finger on the passage. "No sick days, no opt-outs. Any sighting of the clothed criminal will result in an immediate arrest, claiming the charges he would have originally taken. The use of vehicles are prohibited."

"That's..." Nick looked towards the door away from Bogo, then grumbled "god fucking dammit" under his breath.

"Then it's settled," Bogo had a glazed stare as he closed the book with one hand. "You will spend the next seven days nude on the job. Any further questions?

"Um...yeah..." Nick squeaked as he slowly turned his head back to the chief. "It's still the night shift, right?"

Bogo's face was as still as the night. "Yes."

Nick blinked. "Can this-"

"This counts as day one," Bogo stared.

"Thank you!" Bogo probably said something else, but it was drowned out by the sound of three things: the opening creak of the office door, Nick's noisy and racing mind, and the muffle from the distance. All that was left was a long hallway and a naked, annoyed fox walking through the darkness. The air felt colder than he had remembered as Nick fast walked down the corridor. Despite nobody being around, Nick's hands were still fastened tightly around his crotch.

"Naked for a week, huh?" he talked to himself softly. "Heh...it ain't so bad, right? It's just a week. Nothing special."

He was about halfway through the hallway at this point, periodically snickering to himself about the situation.

"I mean, I like my body a lot," Nick chuckled quietly. "Why not show it off for a few? C'mon, not too many people get to have moments like this. It'll be fine."

About three quarters of the way out, he let his hands sway off to the side, letting his penis dangle free. It felt...good, in a strange way. Nick couldn't describe why, but he was getting a more confident stride as he approached the entrance into the main plaza. He even began to smirk like he usually did, shrugging the whole thing off like it'd be a walk in the park.

"It's...pssh. It's nothing," Nick assured himself, rounding the corner and walking into the main room he had entered into. "Feels kinda free, to be honest."

But he took no more than ten steps into the wide room until the overhead lights turn on. Puzzled and taken by surprise, Nick flailed his arms and looked around. He was a little blinded by the sudden change in lighting, but when his sight adjusted to it all, he finally saw the culprit staring back at him with two fingers on a tiny lever.

Clawhauser was awake.

"What in the world?!" he hollered, his high-pitched tone echoing throughout the building. "Nick? Is that you? What're you doing here?! Where are your clothes?!"

"Quiet down!" Nick snapped, pointing at the fat cat. "I don't want to get caught by anyone else, here!"

"Oh, don't mind me!" Clawhauser beamed. "I just didn't know you were so well endowed!"

Nick's expression dropped as he swung his tail over to his genitals but was met with a quick shock coursing up through his tail and through his body. It didn't hurt too much, but it was enough to make him squeal and fall over. He had to stumble to his feet as Clawhauser asked if he was okay, finally covering himself up with his hands.

"Yeah, fine..." Nick sighed.

"I can still see your head," he grinned. "It's poking out between your fingers!"

"Stop it!" This only made him giggle even more.

"So, you've got one of those shock collar things for your tail, huh?" Clawhauser stared amusedly. "Kinky...how'd you get it?"

"I, uh...I..." He averted his eyes towards the door, knowing that was an impossible question. "Just...ask the chief. It's a long story."

"Oooooh!" He clasped his hands around his head and laughed. "I didn't know he had a thing for you!"

"I said it's a long story, Clawhauser!" Nick snapped, but it only made his amusement stronger. "Look, it's late, and it's been a long night-"

"I'll say!"

"Right. I gotta get home. Can you open up the door?"

Clawhauser began to laugh louder, palms on the desk and leaning forward with the most ridiculous look Nick had ever seen. "You want to go outside?!"

"Yes!" Nick snapped impulsively. "I mean, no!...I mean, yes!"

"But why?!"

"There's no time to explain! The ZPD protects my rights! Just open the damn door!" Nick started to pout as he turned his back to the cheetah, walking towards the glass doors. "And...and stop looking at me!"

Clawhauser probably thought he was laughing for hours, but for Nick, it felt like he was waiting that long. He had never felt so humiliated in his life, but he knew that was the least of his worries. His hands parted from his chubby cheeks as he eyed a button at his desk.

"Well, all right, then, toots!" he chortled with a half-eyed gaze, pressing it with a fat finger. A mechanism clunked beneath the metal linings of the door. "Hope you enjoy being all nudie in public!"

"Never say that again," Nick rolled his eyes as he sacrificed a hand to exit the department. Shortly after his first few running steps, the alarms sounded off behind him, screeching loudly into the cool night air and diffusing through as far Nick could see from where he was standing. He had to clasp his hands over his ears as he ran past the screaming red lights which had dispatched from the ceilings, prayed that he wouldn't lose his hearing. He had already lost enough of his stuff.

"Finnick!" he cried over the sirens, but he stopped short when he realized how long it had been. There was no way he was still here. His sprinting decayed into a walk as the alarms were turned off behind him. His only ride was gone, and now, the city was surely awake and distressed.

His walk then decayed into a stop, staring down the labyrinth of silver streets before him. The peaceful hymns of the wind and the tinkers of unseen quarrels were like a symphony to his loneliness. The chorus line of overhead lights glazed the ground in white. He stared down the long line of buildings here and there, an environment that seemed so much bigger than before. No vehicles, no escorts. With no clothes to keep him mild and no phone to call for help, Nick trudged forward into the sleeping city grounds.

Home was a little over a mile away, but Nick was on his feet looking for it. He thanked his lucky stars that he knew the direction. It felt so wrong in every way as he hypothesized what kind of attention he must be getting as he walked completely nude between two large buildings. If he paused for enough time, he could almost hear the muffled speech of individual conversations through the overhead windows, though no one seemed to peer outside. Not that he wasn't nervous, anyway; the street lights made his sleek body stick out like a sore thumb. In a way, it was bliss that he could only speculate; yet it was so terrifying at the same time.

Every few blocks, Nick had to pinch himself a bit on the forearm to remind himself he wasn't dreaming. The delicate wind caressed the bulbous head of his flaccid penis, as well as his big scrotum, both of which he failed to cover all the way up. It was so strange being outside like this. Yet he couldn't deny how endearing it was.

He couldn't help but look around. He had been walking for ten minutes by now, and he still felt just as anxious as when he left. His hands remained in the same place the whole time. Impatient to get home and erratic, he constantly scouted his perimeters. Surely, someone must be up at this time, right? And though they were few and far between, they were. There was a stray man walking past him on the sidewalk, a passing car, and a street performer who was just packing up his guitar (who gave him a thumbs up right before leaving). All just faceless characters. They couldn't even contact the police. It just didn't matter what they thought.

And the more he experienced it, the less bad it felt. It was unique, to say the least. The serenity was vast and unmistakable, and just twenty-five minutes into the walk, it comforted Nick. Maybe it was, instead, the fact that he was forced to be like this that made it so intriguing. Or perhaps it's because he really did enjoy it. The thought of being exposed with no punishment somehow made him hold his head a little higher for every minute he was out there. Nobody was there to disturb his nudity. It was just Nick, the city, and his total exposure to a city of ghosts.

He arrived in the park after passing through countless blocks of industry. He was three-fourths of the way home. The passive city noise was gone. He instantly felt less claustrophobic in the open nature. The cobblestone paths had turned to that of dirtier, mossier stone, softening his footsteps. The trees and healthy grass were alive and swaying in a lazy, dark green dance, all of which connected by the modest breeze. As it gently flowed past his torso and between his thighs, he was sure that he had never felt so peaceful and serene. Nudity made this far different from an average walk. It was like magic. It reminded him of his trips to the Mystic Oasis. Even if he saw a few couples fooling around by a fountain far away from him, it never bothered him. It all felt so good. It was such a small change of form, but it made Nick feel a special kind of happy inside, almost forgetting why he was naked in the first place, and merely enjoyed.

Nick had taken it slow enough. He knew that he was fine, and it overtook him like a hot shower. His mind and body were collapsed under a tender ocean of blissful indifference. The night was his, and he was the night. As if on natural command, Nick removed his hands from his pelvis, letting them sway to the sides with his walking. This was it. He was truly exposed. The wind between his legs felt complete with the sensation across the rest of his body, to his chest, up his navel, past his neck and around his ears. His long penis hastily swung in the night air, knocking back and forth between his orange thighs and scrotum, as if it was celebrating its own freedom. He discovered that the feeling of his shaft sliding against the fur of his leg was a simple pleasure worth loving. He loved how he felt. He loved how he looked. The light inside his heart was of the same temperature of the moonlight that soaked his nude body in deliciously subtle etchings of black shadows between cyan details. He felt free, sexy...alive. Truly, truly alive.

As he reached the end of the greenery that juxtaposed the two massive blocks of industrialized civilization, Nick assumed he would be overcome with the shame he felt in the last environment. But it just didn't hit him. After walking for forty straight minutes, indecent and shameless within the aroma of the night, a solitary nude dude sandwiched between the now blue and white apartment complexes and their arrays of shaded windows, he was finally headed towards the road to home. He kept a spare key under the doormat, so getting back in won't be much of a hassle. Not that he was in any hurry to. Nobody was pressuring him.

He counted the generic mailboxes outside every door ever so slowly as he looked for his apartment: "Six hundred thirty-four...six hundred thirty five...six hundred thirty six. That's the one." The door was as white as the borderlines around his light blue house, colored identically to all of those around him. He reached underneath his brown and ragged welcome mat, finding the key just where he expected it to be, and ended his nude walk home. When he entered his home, it smelled just as nostalgic as it got. It didn't take him long to walk straight up the stairs, ignoring his kitchen and den, straight up to the bathroom to brush his teeth and go to bed. It was late at night, and today was quite a day.

He didn't bother to put on any pajamas as Nick got under his red and black plaid covers. He fidgeted around until he felt comfortable. But sleeping was nearly impossible. He just stared up between blank, white ceiling above, and back to the outside window, looking out to admire how the world stood so still on this very moment. He couldn't believe the valleys he had just crossed in such a short amount of time - forty-seven minutes, to be exact. What a surreal day. What an unforgettable turn of events.

And he couldn't have chosen a happier note to lay back into his pillow and fall asleep on. He didn't know why, but somehow or another, he knew this was just what he needed in his life.

But that doesn't mean it prepared him for the next morning.