Published: September 6th 2021, 9:00:35 am
Note: This includes a revised post from December 3, 2020 as the first part. I didn't change any important details, just cleaned it up and polished it a bit, so I decided to include both that and the next part which I wrote today. Enjoy!
Part 1:
"Alright, another successful scam! Up top, lil toot toot."
Nick held his hand up in the air for a high five, though it was really more of a low five considering his partner in crime's diminutive height.
"Come on, buddy," said Nick waving his hand. "Don't leave me hangin'!"
"Fuck off, Nick," said Finnick, Thumbing through his cut of the cash. "Job is done. I'll see ya Tuesday for the rest of the payout. And if you ever try to high five me again I'll bite your fucking hand off." Finnick whipped out his shades and toddled back to his van, his little elephant sleeper crinkling with each step.
"Hey, Finnick! Wait!" said Nick, running up to the smaller fox and grabbing his shoulder.
Finnick whipped around, looking like he was expecting a fight. Nick raised his paws up in front of his chest.
"Hey, hey, chill out partner. That's a mighty scary look you have."
Finnick didn't move back but he remained weary. His eyes never left the fox in front of him.
"Hey man, I know juvie was rough on you but... hey we've known each other a long time. You know I'd never jump you."
"Yeah, well... you can never be too careful, Nick," said Finnick, knitting his brows. "People will hurt you the first chance they get."
"Believe me, I know," said Nick, touching his paw to his chest. "I learned that when I was your... uh... height." He paused for a second, but quickly recovered. "But there's one thing I never understood. Why are you so angry, Finnick? I mean I'm not exactly singin' kumbayah myself, but you've got a real chip on your shoulder. So what is it? Napoleon complex? What?"
Finnick held Nick's gaze for a couple seconds longer before unclenching his fists.
"Tch. Fine. You wanna know why I'm so angry?"
Nick nodded, eager to hear the answer to his question.
"It's because I didn't get my milk and cheerios this morning. Now fuck off!" And with that, Finnick hopped into his van/home, slammed the door behind him, and drove off leaving behind a cloud of black smoke in the alley where Nick stood.
Nick squinted for a few seconds and rubbed his chin. "Hmmm... that van won't pass a smog inspection, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't those cheerios chafin' his ass. Maybe it's the diaper," he said, chuckling to himself.
Still, Nick couldn't get it out of his mind as he put his hands in his pockets and walked down the alley after the van.
"Was it the high five that set Finnick off like that?" he muttered, under his breath. "Calling him toot toot one too many times? Nah, that couldn't be it." If anything, the short stack had grown pretty passive about it all, rarely even bothering to take his costume off after a heist anymore, at least not in front of Nick.
So why the attitude? Finnick didn't seem bothered when Nick suggested they 'do the baby thing' last week. Or the week before that. Not like the first time Nick brought up the baby angle.
"NO WAY! No way am I gonna wear a... a... diaper!" Finnick had yelled, barely able to get past his own incredulity to sputter out the words. "And baby clothes? Come on Nick, really? Just how badly do you want your ass kicked right now?"
"Hey, bud, come onnn! It's the perfect cover! Nobody will suspect a single father with his baby. You got the short end of the stick with your height. So? Why not turn it to your advantage for a change?"
Finnick was almost convinced until Nick put his paw in his mouth.
"The little guy downstairs seems to like it." Nick couldn't help it; he was the chronic wiseass, and this one was too easy.
Finnick's ears folded back and he quickly hunched forward, covering the tent in his cargo shorts with both hands.
"Hey! That's not fucking funny, Nick! Grrr... Forget it, asshole, this job ain't for me."
"5,000 dollars isn't for you?" asked Nick, regarding him coolly. "Alright then... guess I'll be on my way." Nick turned to leave and counted to five as he walked away. One. Two. Three. Finnick called out, and he stopped.
"Hold on. Just what would I have to do for this 'baby act'?"
Nick grinned, turning around to face his little partner. Got 'em, he thought to himself.
Finnick had been reluctant to dress up, but 5,000 dollars was too good to pass up. He had laid down a few ground rules before their first time.
"I'll wear diapers, but I ain't gonna use 'em. I'll wear the outfit, but it comes off the moment the heist is over. And you don't tell anyone about this. Not a word, got it? Or I swear to god you'll spend the rest of your life eating your lunch through a straw."
"So we're good?" asked Nick, completely unphased by the obligatory violent threat.
Finnick dropped his shades and looked Nick in the eye. "Goo fuckin' goo, motherfucker!"
They'd been doing the baby scam ever since.
But now... Finnick was just acting weird about the whole thing, and Nick didn't know why. He was going to find out, though. Nick made double time down the alley, determined to tail the little anklebiter to see what he was getting up to. As the wily fox neared the street curb, he held out a paw to hail a cab, narrowly avoiding a family of hamsters that was waving over their own cab. "'scuse me, comin' through. Oops, sorry little buddies. Hey, taxi!"
A yellow cab with a blacksheep behind the wheel screeched to a halt in front of Nick and he jumped right in.
"Where to?" the driver baahed.
"Follow that trail of black smoke!" said Nick, pointing to the traces of exhaust that still hung in the air. It led them down through the Sheep and Goat district and ended at Savannah Central's largest Catholic church. He got out and told the driver to wait.
"What's the deal with that? Did Finnick suddenly find Jesus or something?" He spied the fennec walking up the front steps, now in a regular outfit of loose jeans and a black shirt. Finnick's butt stuck out as he walked up the stairs.
"Man, Finnick. Cut down on the sweets, buddy."
As Finnick continued up the steps, something fell out of his back pocket. Nick waited til the coast was clear and went to investigate. He picked up the plastic object and turned it over in his paw.
"It's... a pacifier?" That was weird. He had changed his outfit and they weren't about to do another scam, at least not until they were paid up for this one. Nick tucked it into his pocket and followed the little fox into the church. As Nick entered the enormous building, Vaulted Masonry rose up into the hazy firmament above him. He looked around the expansive sanctuary, and quickly spotted Finnick sitting in a pew and praying. The priest passed by and held out an alms bowl and Finnick dropped a fat wad of cash in it.
"No way," said Nick, under his breath. The priest passed his paw over Finnick's hand as if blessing him, but Nick just managed to glimpse something else drop into Finnicks paw.
Nick's ears perked up. Whenever he saw money changing hands, Nick became very interested.
"God's work my ass..." mumbled Nick, who quickly ducked into the shadows behind a massive pillar as the fox turned to leave. This was getting stranger and stranger by the second. He could tell that Finnick had left by the sound of the crinkle disappearing through the door.
"Oh, well that makes it easy. I could hear Finnick's diapers a mile away. Wait... diapers?" Why was Finnick still wearing diapers? What was going on?
Nick got back in the cab and tailed Finnick to the big toy store on Acacia Street where the little fox bought a cute - and very expensive - life-sized red fox plush with another fat wad of cash from his take.
"More baby stuff? You are really dedicated to your craft, buddy," muttered Nick, who watched from behind a large display of Fuzzy Buddies.
Finally, Finnick parked his van off in its usual spot; the back alley behind a donut shop downtown. Nick got out a block away, thanked the cabbie and crept back to the van, listening for any sign of the fox. The van was rocking slightly.
He went around to the front and risked a peek through the glass. The window was rolled slightly down. He put his ear against it and could just barely make out Finnick moaning.
"Yes, Daddy...." *crinkle crinkle*
If he didn't know any better he could swear those were the sounds of a little fox masturbating along with another familiar sund...
Nick put his eyes to the crack in the dingy glass and he could just make out the little fox moving around... it looked like he had the big fox plush and he was trying - and failing badly - to climb it. He caught a flash of white near Finnick's waist.
*crinkle crinkle* "Oh Nick..."
Nick brought his paws to his mouth, his eyes wide. He took a step back and accidentally kicked a beer can in the alley - probably left by Finnick. The rocking stopped. There was no way Finnick's acute hearing could have missed that.
"Hello? Anyone there?" came Finnick's deep voice from the van. By the time the little fox peeked his head out of the door - now fully clothed with a baseball bat in hand - Nick was nowhere to be seen.
Nick sat there behind the alley dumpster piecing together everything he had seen. He was pretty sure he now knew what was going on with Finnick, and he was already planning just what to do about it.
Part 2:
So that's what Finnick was being so weird about, Nick thought to himself as he walked to the nearest bus stop. The pacifier. The diaper. Finnick's recent insistence on holding onto his outfit after scams instead of zipping it off and leaving it for Nick to deal with. It all made sense. Finnick actually enjoyed his little Daddy-Son routine with Nick, he was probably just too embarrassed to admit it. And more than that, Nick thought with a smirk.
"I think the little guy has a crush..." Nick chuckled to himself as he hopped on the back of the bus to ride back to his low rent apartment in the skids. The whole ride back, he thought of what he should do. How he should feel. Flattered? Yes. Intrigued? Definitely. He thought of the pacifier, the diapers, Finnick whispering yes, Daddy, and felt a little shudder of pleasure run through him. Suddenly, 'the baby thing' they'd been doing took on a whole new context.
When Nick stepped off the service elevator and into the basement that served as his apartment, he had the start of a strategy in his mind. The only problem was, he needed an accomplice to help him out, and it had to be someone other than Finnick.
Roaches scattered as he turned on the lights.
"Hey, roomies. Did ya miss me? No?" He shook his head. "Yeah, well, feeling's mutual."
He looked around at the dingy, leaky basement and sighed. It wasn't exactly the ritz, but it was something. Finnick wasn't the only one who fantasized about another life. For all the scams they ran, neither of them were living their best life. Who the hell did he know that wouldn't spill the beans about Finnick's little fantasy?
"Finnick would kill me if it got back to him." That's how it would go. It would kill Finnick's credibility, and then Finnick would turn him into a fox-skin rug. And he didn't want to end up as a rug. All of his criminal contacts operated in the same circles, and the ones who weren't lacked the wherewithal for subterfuge.
Nick thought best when he was moving so he decided now was a good time to empty the many buckets scattered around the basement to catch drips. He began to pick them up one by one and dump them into the kitchen sink before setting them back in their spots.
"If only Carrots could see you now," he said to himself. "What would she think of you then? Aw heck. What does it matter? Not like I care what some dumb cop thinks anyway. " He chuckled to himself. Judy wanted him to become one too, but he just wasn't part of that world. Then it hit him. What about Carrots? He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and hit the call button. "Hey, Carrots, you got a second?"
"Oh, Nick! I'm glad you called. Does this mean you're coming out after all?"
"Coming out?" asked Nick. "Look, Carrots, I told you, I'm bi. I thought everyone knew that by now."
"Very funny, Nick. Of course I know. I'm talking about, coming out dancing tonight? I know you don't go out much but everyone I know works in the department and is big enough to crush me, and I need a dance buddy. So you're coming, right?"
"Oh yeahhh... That was tonight? Right, right. I knew that. Uh, yeah, no. I'm actually calling because I need a favor."
"Well, what a coincidence, so do I. Maybe if you come out tonight, I'll listen to your proposal."
"Carrots, I really don't have time to-"
"It's at the galloping gazelle, over in Sahara Square? We should be there around 8 or so... and I'll feel a lot more charitable if you show up on time for once."
Nick sighed. "Alright, alright, I'll come. Just promise to keep an open mind when I ask you for that favor."
"Oh boy, where have I heard that before?"
"Now, Carrots, you said..."
"Alright, alright. Keep an open mind. Got it. Just show up, okay Nick?"
Nick ended the conversation and walked over to the mirror to check that his tie was on straight.
"I should really get a second outfit," he said to himself. Then a moth flitted by. Then again, he thought, he'd rather not leave any of his clothing here unattended. What he really needed was a new place to live. "Oh well, one thing at a time."
He stashed his cash in its usual hiding spot and then headed back to the freight elevator that much closer to his goal of getting his own real place. The less time he spent in this nowherespace, the better. It was a lot easier to focus on others' problems in life than settle his own. And in this case, hopefully a lot more fun. He smiled to himself as he thought about how cute little Finnick sounded as he crinkled on his fox plush and mewled Nick's name. Nick felt a sudden tightness in his slacks and looked down. On second thought, maybe he'd stay just a few more minutes to take care of that tent beginning to form in his pants.