Sunderance Chapter 22: Dark Passage - Part 1 (Patreon)

The fox could never understand why everyone always wanted to meet in dark alleys, particularly a reporter of some fame in the city. With the hum and shuffle of mammals on the streets beyond this clearly seldom used sliver of side road, he knew it was doubtful that anyone would randomly wander into the alley. Which was the point, though with every other quiet spot and hidden door in the city it did seem a little dramatic. Then there was the bright red of the almost familiar crest was painted on the wall behind him, ignored for the most part even as the nine spikes rose up in a sort of dangerous halo around him. The spray paint below it red in the same dark red ‘Welcome to the Foxes Den’ and had him silently wondering if this spot had been chosen because of it. Even without that reminding looming behind him, the dank atmosphere and old non-smell of scent neutralizer that had been sprayed on the walls was enough to make his fur feel itchy under his suit, causing him to tap his claws over his crossed arms impatiently. Of course, he wasn’t really trying to fool himself into thinking that it was the setting that annoyed him. It wasn’t even the fact that the reporter was late, if only by a minute.

Being separated from Judy after being within arms reach of her almost constantly in the past week had his nerves on edge. What was normally self-preservation, a sort of instinct that had kept him safely out of the public eye for so long, had been discarded in favor of making sure that she survived. The choice had not been made lightly, though he had made it quickly because he had not been stupid enough to believe that her entry into Zootopia would remain out of the media. Still, it had never been in the cards to walk up to a reporter and let them throw questions his way. Something that would have made him fade into the shadows for years was something he walked into willingly just to get the rabbit a slip of paper that might or might not help her with her case.

Of course, before she had come along he had also all but managed to remove the desire for female companionship from his life. Years of solitude, years of self-control, time spent without letting himself be tempted by the softly sweet musk of a vixen had quickly broken down when libido and emotions had slapped him across the muzzle. His guard had been down because she was a bunny. Not just down. Non-existent. So, when his body and instincts had registered willing female, he had been unprepared for the impact. So unprepared that the rush of desire had slipped right past his libido, his common sense, and the fact that she was a bunny until desire was only a part of the whole. It was something he was going to have to learn to live with.

Or without when she finally left the city after the case.

Not so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice the light sound of clawed footsteps heading in his direction, his eyes lifted behind the sunglasses to the only entry for the alley. The vixen that moved towards him did so with the self-confidence of someone who was used to dealing with mammals of all kinds and coming out on the winning end of those deals. She also moved with a decidedly graceful sway of her hips and tail that caused his eyes to pause on those tightly bound hips. The dark blue, strapless blue dress she wore over snow-white fur was just the right level of tight that he was able to see every last curve of the lithe, gorgeous body without being so tight that it strangled her fur. His gaze lifted again as she closed the distance, finding her expression as eager as it was it sharp under an angled homburg hat that rested in front of her dipped ears.

“The Mystery fox in the flesh, again,” she said, her voice nearly a purr of delight as she took a moment to look him up and down slowly, an action that she completed with a deep sigh of what was obviously appreciation. “If I had known what a hit you would become, I would have followed you from the courthouse the first time I saw you.”

He searched his memory of the day of the courthouse, his first encounter with reporters in longer then he cared to remember. The image of her standing at the lead of the group of reporters popped into his mind clearly, right down to the annoyed expression on her face when he had told the entire group of them to ‘stay’. In all honesty, he had been surprised it had worked as well as it had, but then the fact was that no one knew who he was. Any display of authority had clearly been taken from the group of them as someone who had actual authority.

Still, he said nothing as they sized each other up, something that did not seem to bother the reporter much in the slightest as she pressed on after a few seconds.

“Victoria Harridan,” she said, her tone keeping a professional edge while managing to hold onto the edge of sexual energy that her entire outfit and stance seemed to radiate. “Reporter for ZNN. But more importantly, a big fan. I’m so glad that we managed to meet like this. I have so many questions…”

“Ten.”

The sudden introduction of his voice and the single word that he spoke caused her to lose her stride for half a beat before she managed to mask her surprise behind a curious smile. “Ten what?”

“Ten questions,” he clarified, watching her ears drop marginally as the limitation of their meeting was set. “I will answer ten questions. If I tell you to skip a question, drop it and it won’t count towards the ten. Or you could just give me what I came for.”

“I was hoping we could have a civilized conversation,” she said, her smile slowly returning as she took a few steps closer to him. It was hard to deny that she was good at masking her emotions, at least after the fact, though she had obviously made no attempt to mask her scent. The fact that most foxes wore scent-mask in public didn’t apply when two foxes intended to be intimate, as what was harsh and strong to the nose of many was deeply appealing to the opposite sex. “Get to know each other by more traditional dialog, rather than consider this an interview or prisoner exchange.”

“Dialog,” he said, keeping his tone as cool even as she reached up to smooth one small paw along the lapel of his jack. He might have chosen not to delve into the carnal or romantic side of vixens for years, but he did remember how they worked when they wanted something. The alluring scent, the light tilt upward of the muzzle as if in offer, the twitch-twitch and sway of the tail, and finally the playfully submissive drop of the ears as she looked up at him. “Were you planning this ‘dialog’ to be before or after I’ve fucked you?”

The silky roll of laughter that escaped her was filled with shocked surprise as much as it was with actual humor at his words. Though she didn’t seem to take his blunt words as an attempt to call her out for her actions, as was apparent by the way her fingers tugged at his jacket gently. She only moved closer, kept her stance the same even as her paw moved to slide over his chest and under his jacket.

“Of the four complete sentences you’ve spoken to me, all of them have been so forceful in their own way,” she murmured, obviously as delighted by the prospect as she was by the fact that he was allowing her to manhandle him. Manhandling that currently had soft paws sending unaccustomed tingles down his spine as they moved further under his jacket, only to pause when they reached the butt of one of his guns. He saw the tense surprise come and go, fading into curious pleasure as she ran her paw over the shape of it, her eyes positively delighted. “You carry a gun? Why haven’t I ever seen you use it?”

“I do,” he replied, aware of how her scent had deepened, spiced by basic lust as she ran her paw over the weapon one last time before it withdrew. He felt his jacket loosen as she popped open the buttons on the front, felt a twinge in his groin. “And because I’ve never needed it before.”

“So self-assured,” she murred throatily, slipping herself into the space of his now open jacket until her chest was pressed against his. He raised his muzzle when she bumped her nose under his, the hat slipping off her head. She didn’t seem to notice as she rooted her nose into his fur. “A shame you’re wearing scent mask. But I can still smell a male under that and bunny. So hard on the surface, but I bet protecting Miss Hopps doesn’t afford you a lot of time to partake in personal pleasures, does it?”

“I’ve been watching her for a little over a week,” he said, his tone unchanged even as her scent knocked hard against the more primal parts of his libido. “I’m sure you’re aware that males are capable of going without sex longer than that.”

“Oh, of course,” was her reply as she seemed intent on taking her fill again as he allowed her to nip at his chin teasingly to try to tempt him into a kiss. “But why, when we don’t have to?”

Perhaps before he would have been able to take her up on the offer, he decided as she pressed herself bodily against him from hip to shoulder, giving him a bit of satisfaction when she bumped herself against the front of his pants. The disappointment that she didn’t find him as hard as she had obviously expected was enjoyable on its own. Perhaps before, but now was not before. And the way her body was pressed into his, he could hear the crinkle of something that wasn’t a part of her dress.

“You are persistent,” he rumbled, allowing a hint of the arousal her scent had driven into his mind to come to the surface. A sharp exhale came when he gripped her wrists, followed by a sharp yelp when he spun her around swiftly and shoved her back against the crimson symbol on the wall as he looked down into her wide golden eyes. “But I am in the habit of taking what I want.”

Submission came easily, her light struggles relaxing as her ears dropped back fully and her muzzle tilted upward to expose more of her slender throat to him. She did this without dropping her eyes, watching everything move he made her as he pressed his body into hers until she was completely pinned against the wall behind them. The appearance of submission was an illusion, he knew, letting her get what she wanted as his paws gripped her hips and lifted her up until her soft legs wrapped around him. Eager little sounds escaping her as he nuzzled her head back further, grazing his teeth through her fur and across her skin as his paws slipped upward along her hips.

“Oh, I should have known you would be the primal type that would just hump me against the wall,” she purred happily as his paws ran sensually over the surface of her dress, striking a little spark of anger in him at the memory it brought to the surface. He pushed the actions of that drunken fool aside as he kept her pinned, her scent thickening with every breath, gnawing at him until…

Until he felt it and heard it at the same time. The crinkle and slight hardness of something that wasn’t meant to be there inside of the dress tucked in just over the soft white of her chest. Desperate to get away from the scent of the vixen’s lust and the memories if brought, he allowed himself no further time to act like he wanted to be where he was. His hands were quick, made easy by her misinterpreting the tug at her dress as an attempt to continue the carnal act. But the moment the receipt was in view, she seemed to catch on to what was happen. Trying to slap him away a second too late, he shoved her away and stepped back with the coveted receipt in paw.

“Bastard,” she growled from the ground where she had fallen, looking a rumpled mess with her skirt halfway up her hips and halfway down her chest. She quickly pulled herself to her feet, as he expected, looking about as angry as a predator who had just had her prey slip away should as she quickly yanked her dress back into place and glowered at him. “All you had to say was that you weren’t interested!”

“Did you come here to take no for an answer?” he asked coldly, panting lightly as he glanced down at the receipt. It was enclosed in a plastic baggy, thankfully, and the date was a match for the one Judy needed, so he tucked it into his jacket’s inner pocket as he returned his gaze to the huffing vixen. “Plus, I was pretty clear in my lack of interest.”

“Maybe not,” she mumbled, smoothing her paws over her rear to wipe away the grime of the alley floor as best she could. After a moment, her eyes returned to him, “but males don’t usually say no.”

“I bet they don’t,” he said under his breath before inhaling deeply and slowly with the distance between them, at least allowing him to take in some air that wasn’t drowning in aroused vixen. “I have what I wanted.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she said sharply, making him paused as he started to turn. “You said I could ask ten questions and I intend to have at least that.”

He could see the anger was quickly fading from her, replaced with a determined sort of cunning as she moved towards him again. This time, her motions were less seductive and reminded him of seeing a reporter move towards a politician with hard questions to ask. There was steel and determination in her eyes, as well, which he expected was her default setting. And she wore it just as well as the guise of the temptress.

“I did say ten questions,” he replied, turning to face her again with his paws tucked in his pockets as he watched her from behind the glasses he still wore. “But you only have six left.”

Seeing her expression drop, then harden, and settle on contemplative made him smirk slightly. The smirk seemed to draw her attention, as the first real expression he had given since she had arrived, and she considered that for a moment, too, before she pointed one finger at him.

“I have seven questions,” she explained, holding up the same paw when he would have spoken. “You never answered me when I asked, ‘But why?’”

“Hm,” he considered, then with a slight shrug of his shoulders he realized that he couldn’t argue with her there. “Fair. Seven questions. But make them quick.”

Even though a moment ago she had looked angry enough to spit nails, the vixen now looked delighted to have won her interview with the Mystery Fox of Zootopia.

“Well, let’s get started then,” she said, standing with her paws resting on her hips and a grin on her muzzle.