He displayed hesitation, uncertainty. "By the way, we're updating our procedures for...for rabbits and such. If you'll take a look at it all, when it's ready..."
"Of course, Captain." My heart warmed. He sounded gruff, but he'd taken what I had to say seriously. He was going to educate himself, to do a better job to all the constituents.
With a single nod, he shoved off from the desk and went into his office. I stared after him, sensing the stress and exhaustion in his stance. Had he slept much recently? He seemed sotired. I was glad he worked hard, but hoped he was taking care of himself, too...
I looked around but didn't see Jon, so I figured he was doing something important. I sat down at the desk and arranged things, more for something to do and to clear my thoughts than because it was so terribly messy.
I wondered how it would go, this meeting. On the one hand, it would interrupt my routine, which was supposed to be a peaceful day of filing and paperwork. Getting things done, but without the necessity for sirens and sniffing out drugs. I was pretty tired of the whole drugs things.
I wished Jon was here so I could get his take on it. Did that make me clingy? Hm…
Coffee. I would have coffee. I got up and headed for the machine — and almost slammed into Jon, returning to his desk. "Hey there, champ," he said, smiling down into my eyes in a way that made me feel warm all over.
He held two coffees, big ones, from my favorite local coffee shop.Hot damn!
"Mm. Thank you." I accepted the one he gave to me and looked up at him with eyes that I hoped weren't too much aglow with love.
It was hard enough knowing I loved him more than he loved me; I didn't want everyone in the precinct to know. I wasn't even sure I wanted him to know, although why, I couldn't say.
I didn't think he'd use it against me, not on purpose. Did I subconsciously, or was it just that natural caution of not wanting to be vulnerable, the way I tried to keep to cover when I was a fox?
I was overthinking this.
He reached up with his now-free hand and ruffled my hair, messing it all up. I made a face and scrunched up my nose. "Jon!" I complained, swatting him away.
"Let's sit down and strategize," he said, smiling at my annoyance. "The captain tell you what's up?"
"Just now." I took a quick sip. Mm,perfect.
We sat, we talked, but there wasn't much we could do ahead without knowing more of the facts. Too many variables. Mostly it depended on her level of comfort being around a fox.
"I don't think it will be an issue, but I don't know. Foxes and groundhogs avoid one another in the wild, but I wouldn't say they're enemies."
The truth is, groundhogs are too tough to be prey for wild foxes — often just as big and tough, though they don't eat meat. Foxes are smaller than most people imagine, under all their fur, and groundhogs are bigger and tougher than you'd think. They're not big rats, but a different, very tough species.
Foxes don't prey on groundhogs unless they get very lucky with some unattended young ones. And, since foxes will eat anything they can catch in the wild, that certainly does happen, but probably not often. Rabbits, rats, and voles are more the speed of foxes in the wild, and even so many of them eat a very plant-based diet. Berries and roots keep foxes alive just as much as animal protein. Hunting is always a living-by-your-wits game involving a lot of luck, and foxes who survive are clever enough to find and eat whatever they can without being too picky.
Basically, there was no biological reason for her or me to be enemies or afraid of one another. But that didn't mean she'd feel comfortable with me. I would have to wait and see.
Sometimes shifters who shouldn't get along managed to become quite friendly. I always thought that was nice, a reminder that we weren't just our biology. For instance, Ferdinand, the mouse shifter who'd talked with me over the phone about the certification program, had become something of a friend.
Jon checked the clock on the wall after we finished our coffee and planning session. "Okay, go do some filing. I know you want to." He gave me a wink. "I'll make sure you're told when they arrive."
I gave him an indignant look as I rose, standing up straight beside my desk and arching a single brow. "Since when do you give me permission?"
"I didn't mean it like that. Go on, now, or you'll be grumpy later."
"I will not!" But I went, and gladly.
Time in the catacombs sped by and helped me feel calmer and happier. When lunch rolled around, I almost wasn't nervous about it. By the time they arrived, I was again.
The first thing I noticed about her was how short and round she was. Shorter than me, barely over five foot, and heavy, very round with almost no definition to her curves. It was impossible not to notice — and I felt bad about that. I don't like thinking I judge people on shape or size, but I inwardly winced for her.
Short and heavy is an incredibly useful body type for an animal to have — they are muscular and easily able to store fat to help them survive. Think of how successful wild groundhogs are; they live everywhere and thrive even in tough times. They're strong, tough, not particularly sensitive to environmental stresses, have great endurance, and can fit themselves into various niches in the ecosystem.
But being short, heavy, and muscularly round isn't an advantage for humans. Even if there were no health problems associated with being so heavy, which I couldn't know without access to her medical history (and that was seriously none of my business anyway), I could see it would be a disadvantage in a society obsessed with tall, slim, and buff bodies.
Genetically, I'd hit the lottery compared to her, because my appearance fit conventional attraction indexes closely enough to give me an advantage, or at least not give me a disadvantage when it came to being judged at first glance, which, let's face it, can affect a lot of a person's life.
