The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 42

Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

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The Fire Triangle-A Zootopia Fanfiction

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Part One:

Fuel

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Chapter 4 - The Wizard of Chaos

(Continued...Pt. 11)

Conor was sitting at one of the picnic tables, slurping the remnants of his pop, and wondering what the heck he was going to do next. The grilled 'crawlers had been good, not the best he'd ever had but decent. (The slice of Gideon Grey's blackberry pie that followed had more than compensated; it hadn't just been just the bomb, try a freaking nuke.)

"But whither now, young Master Lewis?" he asked himself rhetorically. Should he just sit here and enjoy the music? While they had a pretty decent band playing tonight, it had never been his style to play the wallflower. Hmmm, head back to the van and get online maybe? There was surprisingly good Wi-Fi reception back at the campground, and he hadn't talked to...

He became aware of a presence behind him; a split second later his nose put a name to the visitor.

"Hi DF," he said, turning around to see Finnick standing there.

"Hey kid," the desert fox answered, offering a small salute with the skewer of grilled scorpions he'd been munching.

"Good thing Snowdrop isn't here to see this," Conor mused ...or maybe it wasn't so good. Her reaction would be worth a Ewe-Tube vid at least.

"I didn't know they had those here," he said, pointing to the kebab in the fennec-fox's paws. (Scorpions are largely desert dwellers, not common in a place like the Burrow.)

Finnick's face took on an expression of mild distaste.

"Yeah, but they ain't near as good as the ones you get at the Meerkat Market. Idiots here take the stingers off before they cook 'em."

As if to drive home the point, he dropped the skewer into a nearby trash bin, slapping his paws together in a 'that's that' gesture.

Then, to the younger fox's momentary surprise, he pulled himself up onto the bench across the table and leaned in close, beckoning him with a crooked finger and narrowed eyes.

Conor blinked, and then pulled himself halfway across the tabletop as well. This was what Finnick did whenever he had a scheme up his sleeve.

"What up?" he asked his partner softly.

The desert fox lowered his voice to a rumbling whisper.

"I gotta little hustle going, kid." He said, "Nothin' big, just penny ante really, but you can help a buddy out, right?"

Conor didn't even hesitate.

"You got it DF, what's the gag?"

Finnick looked around for a second and then dropped his voice by another half decibel.

"That bunny, Erin; I didn't care much for how she was talking trash on you an' me in the van back there. So what I did was, I bet her a 20 that she can't get you to dance with her. When she shows up here, no matter what she says, you act like you ain't interested, okay?"

"Oh-kayyy," the young silver fox answered, hiding his indignation; it was taking every ounce of effort to keeps his ears from swiveling backwards and his fangs from unsheathing. No, it wasn't okay; so what if Erin had gone off on them in the van back there? That was no reason to try and scam her. Dangit but this little guy could be so petty sometimes. For crying out in pain, she was just a girl going through that time of her life; where the heck did he get off...?

"Oops, heads up kid, here she comes."

Conor turned just in time to see Erin Hopps emerging from the crowd. With her were Jill Pepper and her other bunny GF, Tawny Lloyd; Terri Blackburn, the ferret, was bringing up the rear with Lisa Chatterton perched on top of her head. All of five were regarding him intently.

"Remember," Finnick admonished, keeping his voice low.

Conor smiled and discreetly flipped a paw.

"Relax DF, I got this."

And heaving himself off the picnic table bench, he walked straight up to the white-furred, black-tipped bunny.

"Erin, would you like to dance?"

He turned to leer over his shoulder at Finnick. The little guy was going to have a connipt...

"Sure, I'd love to." She said.

Conor's face dived earthward, like a Kamikaze plane. What the...? She said yes? She-said-yes? What the heck, SHE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO ACCEPT! She was supposed to say 'no thanks', and then collect her money from Finnick. What the frinkity-plink was going on around here?

Well, whatever it was, it was too late to back out now, not with an entire girl-squad looking at him. Somehow hiding his reluctance, Conor took hold of Erin's paw and led her towards the dance floor with her girlfriends-and Finnick-trailing close behind.

With such a large influx of guests the event's organizers had wisely chosen to divide the dance floor into different sections, one for large mammals, one for mid-sized mammals, and the biggest section for small mammals (such as bunnies.) A raised platform over on the left was reserved for rodents.

It took a minute or two to find an open space with so many other dancers on the floor. Conor could feel (or imagine) the eyes of every bunny in the place boring into him like laser-drills. 'What do you think you're doing, dancing with HER, fox?' they all seemed to be saying.

"Please...don't play a slow song next," the young fox silently beseeched the band, first turning his eyes towards the stage and then canting them skyward. Heaven must have decided to take mercy on him because right then the lead guitarist let loose with a ripping, in-your-face riff, the opening chords of another summer classic.

Erin laughed and clapped her paws. "Whoa, I thought about playing this at the talent show last night, fox."

"We could have, I know it too," he told her, caught up in the moment, in spite of his misgivings.

So what could they do? They began to dance-while in the background a buzzsaw vocal ripped forth from the lead mike.

"Well we got no choiiiiice....

All the girls and boyyyyyyz..."

Erin Hopps turned out to have some pretty mad dancing skills; she knew a thing or two about how to move her hips, (and being a bunny, she had plenty of hip to spare), swaying bumping and then gyrating in a circle with her paws behind her neck.

But Conor was no slouch on the dance floor either; he was street, and this was where it showed; his style was aggressive, almost predatory, with quick, staccato moves. More than once he dropped down on all fours, a move that seemed to stop the breath of his partner in her throat.

That lasted until the refrain came up and brought the two of them together. Along with practically every other kid on the floor, they leaped in time to the music, pumping fists and shouting along with the lyrics.

Schoooooool's out...for...sum-MER!

Schoooooool's out...for...eh-VAH!"

And then they were dancing together again. At one point Erin began to play along on an imaginary bass. Conor joined her on air guitar and soon the two them were pantomiming a jam together.

"Nooooo more pen-cils,

"Nooooo more boooo-hooks..."

It was strange, really strange, Conor reflected to himself. Only a moment ago he'd been praying for a short song; now he was hoping the band would play an extended version of the old Alice Raccooper standard.

"Out for Sum-mer

Out 'til Faw-hall

We might not go back at aw-HALL!"

When the song ended, the kids on the dance floor sent up a screaming cheer in imitation of the original version's finale. It was only afterwards that Conor first noticed how hard he was breathing and saw Erin doing the same.

"So," he panted, "What are you...going to do...with the money?"

The young bunny's nose began to twitch.

"Money? What...money?" she said, staring at him with one ear higher than the other.

Conor glanced over his shoulder for a second. Yep, there was Finnick, as expressionless as a sphinx. He cocked a thumb in the little fox's direction. "The twenty he bet you that said you couldn't get me to dance with you."

Erin's eyes went wide and her ears fell over backwards behind her head.

"Wha...? He told me YOU'RE the one he made a bet with."

Now Conor was the one staring wide-eyed.

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah," she said, pointing past him and towards the desert fox, "He said he bet you a fifty that YOU couldn't get ME to dance."

"WHAT?" For a moment the young fox's ears were working in confusion...until it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Fin-NICK!" he snarled turning fangs and spiking neck fur in the fennec fox's direction.

His ire turned quickly to horror as he noticed for the first time the object in the desert fox's paw; a camera-phone...with the lens aimed right at him and Erin.

"I got you baaaaack, boy," he grinned, speaking in his trademark deep-bass sing-song. And then he slipped the phone into his pants pocket, throwing his head back and laughing up a thunderstorm.

Conor was still staring when without warning Finnick leaped up and grabbed him by the shirt.

"I got you back GOOD, kid; told you I would!" He patted the pocket where he'd stashed the phone, and dropped to the ground again, laughing harder than ever. "Whooo, your boyz back in Zoo-tope gonna lose it when they see you been dancing with a bunny."

The realization made Conor's ears vanish into his scalp.

"Why you sneaky little...gimme that cell-phone!"

But the fennec-fox had already darted away into the multitude-and there was nothing to do but stare after him in impotent fury; nobody could melt through a crowd like him.

That was when the young silver fox realized there was something going on behind him.

He turned, and was dumbfounded to see Erin Hopps nearly fainting with laughter, along with every single one of her girls.

"What, you think that's funny?" he demanded, waving an angry paw, "What happens if your folks see that vid?"

"So what if they do?" Erin was recovering rapidly, "It's not like they won't find out anyway. This is Bunnyburrow fox, not Zootopia; everybody knows everybody here." She waved a paw at the crowd behind her. "Heck, I spotted at least five other animals who recognized me while we were dancing."

"And your folks won't be bothered by it?" The young fox was completely incredulous.

Erin gave him that 'what are you, an idiot?' look again.

"Yeah, probably. So?"

"Soooo, you wanna dance some more?" he asked, surprising the heck out of both her and himself.

It wasn't enough of a surprise to stop Erin from saying, "Yeah let's go."

As the two young mammals started to move with the music again they had no way of knowing they were about to be spotted by someone a lot closer to home than the folks who'd observed them earlier...and Nick Wilde had no way of knowing that he was about to give Judy just the opening she'd been hoping for.

"Carrots, look," he pointed, "isn't that your sister Erin over there, dancing with Conor Lewis?"

Judy peered for a second with her nose twitching...and then her eyes went wide with surprise.

"Sweet Cheez n' Crackers, you're right Nick." She gaped...but then she was grinning from ear-to-ear-while the red fox felt his collar beginning to tighten; something about the look on her face was hoisting red flags from here to Outback Island.

They'd been on their way back to join the rest of the family, and had discovered the quickest route was to skirt the front of the crowd. The other Hopps's were just coming into view when Nick caught sight, (actually scent,) of Judy's kid sister and the young silver fox. It was only after his eyes confirmed what his nose was saying that he'd pointed them out to her.

Now, he was beginning to wish he'd kept his big, fat, fox-trap shut.

For the moment, his companion wasn't saying anything, only watching as Conor and Erin danced to the rhythm of Steve Ermine's Copperhead Road.

"Well him an' my uncle tore that engine dowwwwwn.

I still remember that a-rumblin' sound."

"They make a pretty decent couple, don't they?" Judy observed, folding her arms and winking at him.

Nick felt his anxiety kick up a notch.

"I-I-I don't think your folks would say so, Carrots," he told her, looking warily over at Bonnie and Stu: had they seen what their daughter was doing? (They hadn't.)

"He uz headed down to Foxville with a weekly load.

You could smell the whiskey burnin' down Copperhead Ro-ho-hoad!"

Judy turned with a look of feigned indignity on her face.

"Oh, you think there's something wrong with a bunny and a fox dancing together?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that, Judy," Nick protested, raising his paws...and realizing too late that he had just played right into HER paws. "Why did I have to say anything?"

"Oh so you don't have problem with it?" she asked, lifting her brow even higher.

"Now th' DEA's got a chopper in the air

Wake up howlin' like I'm back over there..."

Trapped, cornered...there was only one right answer to that question, and it was the worst possible answer he could give. Ohhhh, couldn't Judy have asked him something simple like, "Does this dress make me look fat?"

Nick barely kept himself from wincing. "No, of course not," he said.

Judy moved a paw to her hip.

"Then prove it fox. Dance with me on the next song."

He could have face-pawlmed himself with a brick.

"Agggggh, grrrrr! I KNEW it!"

He hesitated and she folded her arms again.

"Well come on Nick, how about it? You're not going to let some kid show you up, are you?"

Now his green eyes did wince shut. Oooo, but if this bunny didn't know exactly where to hit him, right in the ego; he opened them again and was about to give in, when the band started to play the next tune.

It was an easy transition; like the previous song, their next number opened with a mandolin riff, only this time with a harmonica joining in.

Nick Wilde felt as if a steel fencepost had just been driven through his heart. And We Danced by The Hoofers; oh God no, not THIS tune!

A flood-tide of memories went tearing through his soul, a horde of barbarians sacking a city. Robyn, the first time he'd seen her, she'd been singing that tune...and from that night on it had been their song. He remembered everything that followed; it was like a DVD playing in his head that he couldn't turn off. He remembered that first time, when the lovely cross-fox vixen had turned him down, his determination to win her fair and square; Wild Times, his joy when she'd finally accepted...and then the night when everything had come crashing down. Even then Robyn stuck with him...until that other fateful night. "You didn't NEED to lie to me Nick." It struck him with the speed of a lightning bolt, a thousand recollections in the blink of an eye.

"I...I can't Carrots, I'm sorry." He told Judy.

She refused to be put off, "Oh come Nick, one little dance?"

Nick felt himself weakening again; but then behind him, the band launched into the vocals, and ohhh, why did they have to give this one to their female lead?

"He was a be-bop baby on a harrrrd day's night.

He was hangin' on Jenny, she was holdin' on tight..."

Jenny, not Johnny...that was exactly the way Robyn had always sung it. He wanted to turn away from the stage, but he couldn't; it was as if he was under the control of some unseen puppeteer.

He looked...and he saw her, not with his eyes, but in in his heart, the torn tee over the tank top, the stressed jeans, and her red-on-black fur; the way she'd looked that night in The Thaw, swaying before the microphone with a keytar in her paws as she belted out the lyrics...that gleam in her eyes, so beautiful, so full of life.

"And we danced

Like a wave on the ocean romance.

We were liars in love and we danced..."

But then she seemed to turn and look straight at him...with a face filled with infinite sorrow.

"You didn't need to lie to me, Nick!"

He felt his eyes slam shut again, but she was still there, inside his head.

"Why Nick...WHY?"

"Make it stop!"

But it wouldn't stop, it shouldn't stop; HOW could he have done that to her?

"Nick? On the dance floor, now," someone was saying. Who was that, was it Judy?

"You promised me, Nick! You swore to me!"

"Come on fox..." someone was tugging on his wrist

"Lever me alone, Robyn." he cried out silently.

"I met my be-bop baby at the union hall..."

"Get out of my way, Nick!" the last words she had ever spoken to him.

"Come on Nick, the song's almost..."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

All at once he was back in the present. What, he hadn't said that out loud...had he? No, he couldn't have, except why had Judy pulled her away from him...and why did she look so hurt? He hadn't seen her this way since that time under the bridge, only now she wasn't just heartsick, she was angry...no not just angry, furious; all at once her features hardened into a wall of onyx.

"Fine," she sniffed, her violet eyes moist and shining, "If you don't want to dance with me Nicholas Wilde, I'm sure someone else will!"

"Carrots," he tried to say something but she had already spun on her heel and was walking away with her fists jammed down at her sides. He tried to follow, but his feet felt as if they had taken root where he was standing. All he could do was watch helplessly as she walked up to Jack LaPeigne.

Judy reached up to tap the big bunny on the shoulder, but even with all the background noise, he must have heard her coming; before she could touch him, he turned swiftly to face her.

"Judy, what is it?" he asked, lifting an ear.

"Ummm, my dance partner kind of pooped out on me," she said, wondering why she suddenly felt so nervous, "Will you dance with me, Jack LaPeigne?"

"Sure, that'd wonderful," he answered, his delight masking his surprise. (Judy's parents seemed equally pleased by this turn of events; Bonnie was taking Stu by the elbow and pulling him in the direction of the dance floor.)

Nick Wilde felt his throat heat up and swell as Judy and Jack LaPeigne disappeared into the crowd of dancers. 'And We Danced' had concluded, but there would be another song ...and then the big bunny would put his arms around her, and then she would dance with him the way he had danced with Robyn...

"I've got to get out of here." The realization was like a SECOND thunderbolt, "I have to get away from this place...as far away as I can get."

He turned and began to skulk his way along the line of picnic tables, heading for the exit with his tail between his legs.

Behind him, the music had started up again.

"Oh...Oh...Oh...Oh...

I feel so unsure...as I take your paw..."

Nick pushed his way towards the gate with an added urgency, not even realizing that he was taking the long way out. Had he gone for the nearer exit, he would have passed right by where Conor and Erin were sitting.

"Something in your eye-hiiiies

Calls to mind a silver screen."

"Here you go," the young fox set a tray on the table in front of the white-furred bunny and then scooted around to take the seat on the other side the picnic table. Erin reached for her pong-cup of cider but waited until her companion sat down before taking a sip of-a sip that quickly translated into two large gulps and a half-empty cup; dancing is thirsty work. That was part of the reason why she and Conor had elected to sit this one out; (that...and neither one of them was a particular fan of the George Camel tune, 'Careless Whisper'.)

They had lost track of Erin's girlfriends somewhere along the line, not a huge surprise in a crowd this size. While dancing to the last number they had crossed paths with Sue and Craig out on the floor. The two felines had been neither surprised nor unhappy to see Erin dancing with a fox, but then they'd been predators themselves, and also her friends. A lot of the other faces watching had held very different expressions, especially the bunnies and of them, especially the older ones.

As with so many other things, the attitude towards predator/prey relationships was very different with the younger crowd than it was with the adults. (That was a big reason why so many young mammals were cool with the idea of preds dating prey species and vice-versa. Mom and dad don't like it? Count me in!)

Of course, the young silver fox reminded himself, attitudes about predator/prey relationships were also way different out here in the sticks than back in the city. As soon as Erin's GFs got her alone they might unload on her. Not over her first dance with a fox, she'd been snookered into that one, along with him. In fact, the girls in Erin's posse would probably never get tired of telling and re-telling that story; they'd be dining out on it for weeks to come.

But then, when he'd asked her to dance a second time, Erin had said yes; she'd looked every bit as surprised by her answer as he had been, but she'd said yes just the same. And then they'd shared another dance, would you believe it? What would her girlfriends say to that? (As for Finnick, when he heard about it, he was probably going to think he'd created a monster-and Conor wasn't going to know whether to thank him or bite him.)

He set down his cup and looked at Erin.

"I still can't believe we danced three times." He said, "Are you really the same bunny girl who smacked me in the face for that kissing thing I said?"

Erin set down her cup and raised a fist.

"You ever actually try that silver-boy and I'll break your face!"

Her manner was playful rather than belligerent and the young fox took no offense. Still, it served as a reminder that Erin Hopps' change of attitude towards his species went only so far and no further.

"No thanks," he said, rubbing his muzzle, "Been there, done that."

"Har, Har," Erin started to say, but then her expression changed when she realized he was serious-and that he wasn't referring to what had happened the first time they met.

(In fact, he'd been referring to an earlier incident...a much more serious incident.)

For a moment, there was silence between them, with each of the two young mammals groping for something to fill the void. It was Erin who found it first.

"I have to say it Conor, you're a pretty good dancer."

"Not 'one, hot, dancer?'" he asked, in a bad impression of the voice from the Dance with Gazelle phone-app.

Erin giggled, "Don't push your luck, FOX."

Conor took another sip of his cider.

"Actually, I signed up for a dance class my first semester at the Academy," he said, "I figured it might be a good way to pick up some stage moves." He offered her a single, serious nod. "You though, you got some talent there, bunny. When you get to ZAPA, you might want to take some dance classes yourself."

Erin frowned for a second. "Mmmm, maybe...but before I can think about anything like that I have to get accepted at the Academy."

"Can't argue with you there," the young fox said, and then added his own note of caution. "Zootopia's a heckuva of a different environment from around here, though." Even for him, it had been an adjustment. With its 12 unique ecosystems about the only thing Zootopia had in common with Zoo York City was that both of them were cities.

Something occurred to him then and .he moved hastily to qualify his statement. "But you probably know all that from your sister Judy, huh?"

"Pretty much," the young bunny agreed, nodding, "I can't wait to get away from here though...all right, what's so funny?"

Conor was snickering so hard the table was shaking. He forced himself to recover and leaned towards her.

"That's what you say now, Erin," he said, "but if you get into ZAPA, I give it two months, three months tops, before you start getting homesick again."

She thumped her foot on the ground.

"Not me, fox. I'm not going to miss this place." She tapped the table with a finger for emphasis.

Conor sat back on the table-bench again.

"Who said anything about this place?" (He actually thought she would miss Bunnyburrow, but knew better than to argue the point.) "I was talking about your family...and your friends."

"Oh," the young white-furred bunny was suddenly contrite. "Yeah, you're right about that, Conor. I'll miss them for sure."

"Mind if I give you one more piece of advice?" he asked. She nodded and he bit his lip, looking away for just a second as he contemplated how best to put it.

"When I started at ZAPA and started making friends there," he finally said. "I kind of started neglecting my buds from the neighborhood." Seeing her expression, he raised a paw. "No, I straightened things out before I messed it up for good, thank God; we're still tight, all of us."

Erin's face split open in a grin so sly, she could almost have passed for a fox herself.

"This wouldn't have had anything to do with that animal who straightened you out on that Prima Donna thing would it, Conor?"

"Sort of," he flipped a pawlm back and forth. "I mostly figured it out on my own...but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for her." He set down his cup and looked at her. "The thing is Erin, don't make the same mistake that I did; if you get into ZAPA-and I think you got a real good shot at it-don't forget your friends back home; keep in touch with 'em all you can, and try to get back to see them now and then, better yet, invite them to come visit you sometime."

"I'm going to," she nodded solemnly. Whether this was in response to his advice or something she'd planned all along, the young fox couldn't say. What mattered was that she meant it, he could tell.

And then the music started again; a number he recognized, "The Authority Song" by John Cougar Mellencat.

Erin also recognized it.

"Oooo, I love this tune." She was clasping her paws together and almost squealing. Conor wasn't surprised, a rebellious ditty by a small-town farm-boy; why wouldn't she like this one?

He got up quickly and offered her a paw.

"Then what the heck are we waiting for? Let's go."

The two of them hurried for the dance floor, making it just as the vocals started.

"Oh, they like to get you in compromising po-si-tion

Well, they like to get you there, and smile in your fay-hayce... "

For this number Conor smoothed out his dance moves a little; somehow it felt right for this song. Truth be told, he was only a pretty good dancer, not like some of the kids at the Performing Arts Academy that were majoring in Dance; compared to them he was like a kit wearing clogs on a greased floor.

But who cared? He was having fun, and that was all that mattered right now.

"Hey look there's Judy!" Erin, was waving, "Hiyeee sis! Awww darn, she can't hear me. Who's that guy she's with I wonder?"

Conor felt his ears prick up? What the...? Judy wasn't dancing with Nick Wilde?

Erin's next words hit him like a brickbat through a storefront window.

"Wow, I never saw a bunny that big."

Conor felt himself tense up as if 100 volts had just gone through him. It wasn't, it couldn't be him...

He turned to look, just as the band went into the refrain...

"I fight authority, authority always wins

Oh, I fight authority, authority always wi-hins."

The lyrics could not have been more appropriate.

"YOU!" The word burst inside the young silver fox's head like an exploding fireball. It was him, Jack LaPeigne, in the flesh and fur. Conor felt his whole body clenching up like fist; he wanted to rush over, leap up, and sink his fangs into the big bunny's face, "How do YOU like it, dirt-bag? And this is for Danny and Kieran!"

"Ju-deee!" Erin was trying to catch her sister's attention again. Like a magic incantation her words instantly broke the spell. Conor's rage vanished in a flash...replaced by a deep, almost mortal terror. If Judy looked so would her dance partner...and if Jack La Peigne saw the fox dancing with Erin, he would recognize him as the kid formerly known as Dylan Yeats...

He wanted to scream at Erin, "Don't!" but knew that would be his worst course of action. Instead he pretended to grimace and hissed under his breath. "Ow! Hey, watch the tail, bunny-girl."

"Oops, sorry," she said, color rising in her ears as she forgot about her sister for the moment; this was the second time this evening she'd accidentally stepped on her dance-partner's tail, (or it would have been, if she actually had stepped on it.)

"S'okay," he said, "But pay attention to what you're doing, huh? You can go talk to Judy after we're done dancing."

"Got it," Erin said, raising three fingers. Conor felt a rush of relief....until a few second later when the song ended. (Dangit, he should have been paying attention!) Now there was no reason for Erin not to flag down her sister-and the big bunny dancing with her.

"Juuuudyyyy!" Erin raised her paw again, but then abruptly lowered it and began to thump her foot, "Dangit, where'd she go?"

Conor's mind was racing at warp speed; no time to feel relieved, he had to get away from here, just go and get away before...

"Listen I'd love to say hello to your sister," he said flashing another, smaller faux-grimace, "But right now, I really gotta go use the little fox's room; nature ain't just calling , she's screaming her head off."

"Yeah, now that you mention it, I have to go too." Erin answered him, seeming to realize it for the first time. "I'll meet you back at our table, 'kay?"

"Sounds good," the young fox told her. (Thank yooou, cider!)

"See you soon," Erin offered a shy wave as she walked away. Conor watched her go and then turned and headed for the exit, and from there to Finnick's van.

"No, not the van!" his inner voice warned, "That's the first place she'll go looking for you!"

Yes-s-s, it would be just like Erin Hopps go searching for him when he didn't show up at their table. And what if she brought her sister and Jack LaPei-rate with her?

Jack La Peigne...only now did it hit him. What the heck had Judy Hopps been doing, dancing with THAT psycho-mutant from the planet Hellbender?

"You got NO idea what you're getting into with that lowlife, lady," he thought, "that bunny's a freaking viper with a hundred heads!"

"Easy, easy," Conor's inner voice reminded him, "He fooled you too, the first time you met him, remember?"

An involuntary smirk spread over the young silver fox's muzzle.

"Yeah, but in the end I fooled his butt right back!"

"And he's had a hate-on for you ever since," the inner voice rejoined tartly, "Whatever you do, DON'T go back to the van."

Conor passed through the exit and looked around. All right, where else could he go?