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Aster

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How's that girl of yours?" Peterson's thick accent cut through the stagnant air inside the cramped coffee shop.

"She's...ah...we're doin' okay. We're alright." Will replied shakily, quickly sipping from his coffee to ease himself into the conversation.

The bull gulped from his coffee. "You two fucked recently?" he said loudly, filling the room with his profanity.

"Shit, Peterson!" Will, who gasped as if he had been sucker-punched, whispered as intently as any fox could. He gritted his teeth, "That's...this is a...apublic place. Everyone in here probably heard that!"

Peterson gestured to an empty shop, save for an employee with headphones on, "Yea, I'm sure she gave a damn, whole world's listenin', and I ain't buyin' that shit about you two still bein' together. You really haven't been laid in months, have you?" Will's temper began to simmer, mostly because he didn't know how to deal with the awkwardness of the situation and partly because Peterson was right. Will's relationship with his vixen-sweetheart, Kelly, had fallen apart faster than he could understand, and the two had been living away from each other for weeks now. Will had made sure to hide this as well as he could, but he had begun to care less about his break-up as the days had passed, even though he still wondered why Kelly felt that their relationship was not worth pursuing. Perhaps, it was that Kelly could not cope with the silence when he was gone on the night shift. Perhaps, she could not stand being in a relationship with someone who could be killed at any moment. Perhaps, it was that she did not like his performance in bed. Whatever the reason she had walked out on him just as his first investigation had been nearing a close. Perhaps, it had been for the better, but Will was not going to let Peterson get away with prodding his conscience

. "Screw you, Alexander Peterson." Will knew that the bull hated his full name, but he also knew that Peterson could no longer get him fired.

The bull sat up in his seat, revealing his full stature and mass, and he laughed at Will's attempt to strike out against him, "How about you _die_and come back as something with a bigger dick, huh? You're gonna' need it before you start talking like that--to anyone." At Peterson's retort, Will backed down.

"Now, tell me how things really are."

"I'm sorry...it's just...we're living apart now."

"Ah, but hadn't this happened before? I mean, she gets angry, storms out to her mom's place for a few days?"

"Yea, but not like this. It's been weeks."

"Sure, sure."

"No, really, she's pissed."

"Aren't they all?"

"She's not coming back."

"How do you know for certain?"

"She took all her underwear with her this time."

"Aw, damn. She's gone for good, huh?"

"Yea."

Will's last word hung in the air, static and volatile. It ate away at their interaction like searing acid, so to mitigate this wound, the two immediately took sips from their coffee mugs, awkwardly staring at various objects in the shop. There was only one kind of silence worse than this, and Will knew that it was his turn to step up and repair a broken conversation. He wanted to speak--he wanted to say "So, how's your girl been? How's your family?" But for a moment, he remembered that Peterson had no family or girlfriend; if he had anything, it was copious amounts of sex and alcohol in high-rise clubs on his free weekends.

Peterson could walk into any one of the trending locales in Aster's central district and have his way. Being a cop certainly helped keep any competition in line, but the real reason for his luck was how he perpetually advertised his potency. He was experienced, and he made sure that everyone knew this--female or male. To a degree Will envied his partner's lifestyle, but the fox felt an emptiness emanating from that hulk of muscle. He was certainly a perfect example of a young, virile bull, but by his age, one would think that he would have mated and started a family, even if he had not stuck around to see the venture through. And, the fox secretly believed that Peterson had been searching for something at one point in life but had given up long before the two became coworkers. Now, Will felt a growing sympathy for his partner, despite the bull's lack of tact.

Armed with this emotion, he attempted to recover,

"How's, um...how's life with you? I mean, how you doin' outside of the job?"

"Oh, you know, can't complain."

"I guess...that's good?"

"Just rollin' with the punches, Travers."

"Oh yea?"

"Ya' know. Lovin' life, hatin' work; just like everyone else."

This exchange was terrible, worse than the last, and Will knew this. He acted quickly, extending an invitation to his friend. They both needed action in their personal lives--something to look forward too, even if it were just for a few days.

"You wanna' do somethin' this weekend? It's our freebie."

"Aren't you gonna' be busy with Kelly?"

"Nah, screw that."

"Won't you?"

Peterson wore a smug expression as he said this, and the two managed a few laughs, accenting the dimly-lit coffee shop with some lightheartedness.

"Nope," Will's spirit died down, "I'm done with that. I spend a year with her, and she walks out for--hell if I know...She went through all the ups and downs of street duty with me too...Whatever, hope she has a great life."

"Good." Peterson grunted, "This weekend I'm headed to Solar."

Will recognized the name. Out of all of the clubs in Aster's classy central district, Solar was one of the more famous. It occupied the 74th to the 78th floors of the J. M. Gregg building, which was to say that it had a perfect view of the other 74th to 78th floors of the skyscrapers around it. Beyond its location and popularity, Will knew very little about the club itself except that its reputation was less than admirable for a police officer. The club had come under scrutiny some years ago for devious reasons--some in the department said it was involvement with Bracket 1 drugs or trafficking of some kind. But after only a week of investigation, the case died down, and Solar's name was cleared of any stigma. Peterson had probably worked that case and had frequented the club, but this did not calm Will's nerves as he thought about the place.

Peterson continued, "You need to start learning how to deal with break-ups like I do."

Will wanted to say No thanks, I'll stick with a normal blood-alcohol level, but saying that would have destroyed the conversation that he had just rebuilt. So, he only managed a simple, "Huh?"

"Yea," Peterson replied, "Every time one walks out on me, I get right back in the game; no use cryin' over renewed bachelor status--might as well own the perks, know what I'm sayin'?"

This statement actually surprised Will, not because he didn't expect Peterson to enjoy "bachelor status;" rather, Will had not thought Peterson capable of maintaining a relationship long enough to justify "one"walking out on him.

Will goaded the conversation with an easy question, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Peterson answered, "You and me, we're going to Solar this weekend, and you're gettin' some pussy."

At this statement, Will checked behind himself to see if the employee still had her headphones on. She did, and Will could hear her sharp metal music all the way at their table. He turned back to Peterson, who pretended to ignore Will's double-check,

"I don't know...What if--"

"Forget about Kelly, Will. Be done with that--for shit's sake, she's done with you. Hell, you just got done sayin' you weren't seeing her again, remember? What, are you already crawling back?"

"It's not...no...it's just, I just think that clubs really aren't--"

"No, see? This is your problem."

"What is?"

"You sit there and you think. You never do."

"Yea, because I've got half a' brain."

The insult rolled off of the bull like a weak punch.

"And, you know what? You're letting that half control all of you."

"No, no I'm not! I think before I act, Peterson. It's how I operate."

"Nope, I spend every work day with you. You think and you think and you never speak up. "

"I'm sorry if I'm not as--"

"See? See? There you go! Fucking apologizing. You need to assert yourself. Come on! Grow a pair."

"What the hell do you want me to do, Peterson?!"

"I want to hear one solid 'fuck you' come out of your mouth."

"What?! Why?"

"Say it, Will. Just once--'fuck you.'"

"I'm not gonna--"

"You know what? You're right; you're right--you're not gonna say it."

"I just don't--"

"You're gonna let me stomp all over you like Kelly did. _Just_like Kelly."

Will fell silent; Peterson was stomping all over him, just like Kelly. Everything that bull said was spot on, and it took Will only a few moments to realize that he was very definition of "pissed." His head pulsed in frustration, and his normally-quiescent mood flared. He was angry, and just like he always had done, he was trying to hold it all in, desperately clinging to civility--as if, in this moment, it mattered at all. But in his flustered mind, only one thought managed to sound. It reverberated through his skull like the squeal of a microphone in the paws of an enraged leader of outnumbered revolutionaries.

Fuck civility.

Peterson's voiced assaulted him once more, "I see why she left you, she wanted a fox with some balls--maybe a dick too! She fuckin' got out when she had a damn chance. How the hell did you even get promoted to investi--?"

Fuck this.

With a speed that only a fox could conjure, Will threw himself across the table, knocking over both of the empty coffee mugs; with clenched teeth exposed, he extended his paw, catching Peterson by the tie and pulling the bull a few inches out of his seat.

"FUCK YOU!"

Will's words rang through the air like the report of a cannon breaking the silence of a hundred years of peace. "All you do is take charge like I'm still a_FUCKIN'_ street cop--like I still know nothing. Well, guess what? I didn't get here by being incompetent; I got here by working my ASS off. I got here by caring about the people I help. I kept my damn head down and did what I was told, and it worked, it_FUCKING_ worked because _ I _FUCKING worked! I didn't act like an ASSHOLE_to every damn person I met. And, yea, maybe that's different than what _DICKS like you would do, but I'm tired of this SHIT. I'm tired of your SHIT, Peterson! FUCK. YOU."

"Hey!" The employee from behind the counter shouted, "Do I need to call the police? Or are you two gonna--"

Will flung his free paw out to his side, his middle finger fully extended, "We are the police, shut the FUCK up!" He was panting wildly, the look of adrenaline possessing his eyes.

Peterson smoothed out the harsh language, "Sorry, ma'am, this is just a civil dispute."

As he turned back to face Will, the bull looked legitimately surprised--especially at his partner's remark to the clerk, but as the fox's enraged panting simmered, his grip on the tie loosening, Peterson's shock quickly turned to laughter.

"That's what I'm talking about, Will!"

"What the hell?" At Peterson's arrogance Will nearly lashed out again.

"I have never seen you like that. Never."

"You think this is funny?"

"No, no, I think it's the first time you've ever shown me, for real, that you can treat yourself like you're equal to someone."

Now, it was Will's turn to be shocked. He had lost control, but as much as he wanted to let loose on Peterson again, he knew it would only reinforce what had just been said. He felt that same hate building inside of himself, but this time he managed to quiet it.

"Damn it, Peterson. Just...Damn it." He let go of Peterson's tie and slid back into his seat, slamming his still-quivering paws on the table in frustration.

"Yea, I always get what I want." Peterson said smugly.

"I'm still not sure what that is."

"Well, here, all I'm askin' is that you show that kind of attitude when you're around the other investigators, stop letting them walk all over you. You're right, you're not workin' a beat anymore, so stop taking orders like you are! You do damn fine work, fox. But, no one ever sees it because you're too quiet to let 'em know who's the best."

"You could have just told me that..."

"No, because you wouldn't have listened. You would have heard, but you would have gone right back to the quiet Travers that I was introduced to a few months ago. I already knew you could assert yourself better, but now? Now, you know. Oh...and uh, try not to grab people by the tie, I payed good money for this one, ya' know?"

Will sighed. He had to admit that the bull was right. His rush of anger had been a legitimate one, and it had stirred something within himself that not even he knew was there. He had a mean side. He could be strong and angry, just like someone twice his size, and he realized that this was an energy that he could harness to give him strength to stand for himself when others would rather forget about him. Every new investigator struggled to be noticed and appreciated, but now Will knew that he was capable of making himself heard. But, damned if I'm going to admit any of this to Peterson, Will thought.

"You're an ass. Is that really all you wanted?"

"Oh, and I want you to fuckin' loosen up for a weekend. I thought foxes were supposed to be laid back or somethin'. Hell, half the other foxes I've seen..."

"No, thanks. I...I don't really want to hear about your fox experiences, Peterson."

"That's okay, come this weekend, you'll see." Peterson leaned back and grinned, eyeing the ceiling of the shop as he the visions of his sexual conquests, past and future, momentarily consumed to him.

"Right." Will shivered at the thought.

The bull let a confident smile spread across his face as he sighed.

"Yep, I'll introduce you to the club life. Before you know it, you'll be forgettin' all about Kelly, and you'll have yourself a way to clear your mind of all the shit that goes on in this job--in this damn city."

"I'm still not sure it's for me."

"Come on, not again!"

"No, really. Even in college, I barely partied at all."

"That was before the conversation we just had. This is you now. Plus, I know your type. You studied all night and didn't have many friends in college, right?"

"No...well, yea. I guess, Kelly."

"Ha! Some friend she was."

"Fine, fine. I'll go. But, this better be worth it."

"Trust me, it will. Now, let's get back to the station. I'm not gettin' paid overtime to be your psychiatrist."

Will simply let out a sigh, the quiet fermata to his movement of momentary fury.

Peterson stood up from his spot at the table and stretched; he let out a short huff as Will stood from his own seat, following Peterson who was now making his way back to the cruiser. The two left the coffee shop and the dark morning air meandered around Will's long, tan coat and through his thick fur. As he approached the car, he could not help but realize that an odd sensation had a grip on him, like an intense cold resting just above his forehead. Peterson opened the door to the cruiser and got in, but Will paused outside with his paw resting on the car's door handle.

He looked up between tall buildings to see a darkened sky, clouds twisted by the peculiar atmosphere; everything was so odd to him all of the sudden. The coffee shop seemed foreign, the buildings loomed too closely, and the ground appeared as dark as the sky. In a moment, Peterson would call for him to "hurry up," but for that time Will concentrated on this feeling, this alien emotion. And, with that focus, Will found the source of this pressure,silence. It was soft and sweet, but it was also titanic and terrifying. His life was usually consumed by the noise of people and machines, but for these few seconds, everything was quiet as if he were the only thing alive for miles. The fox exhaled slowly, his warm breath condensing into steam before his eyes; he needed to be rid of this silence at once. He opened the car door and hopped into the passenger's seat; Peterson had already turned on the radio.

And with that, the silence was gone.

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©"JazzTiger" 2014