The digital clock on the cell phone read 3:14 am. The lime green light from the clock was the brightest source of illumination in the room. The only window to the room was uncovered, but the lights from outside were muffled by the foliage of the Rainforest District. Underneath the window was a dresser, from ITREEYA and with only three drawers, supported an old fashion analog alarm clock complete with ringing bells. A bed was in the middle of the room with his head up against a wall and a mammal resting peacefully on it. Two end tables flanked the bed on each side, but up until recently only one had ever been used fully. On the opposite wall of the window was a closed door and just left of the door was an open closet. Across from the bed was another closed door, with a rack hanging off of the back of it. The floor had several articles of clothing scattered about, the inhabitants not caring where they landed, but other than that it was clean of clutter.

All of this had been observed the first time Reginald C. Weaselton ever stepped through the doorway, but never appreciated till that moment. Of course he learned a long time ago to appreciate things differently at this hour of the morning. The Weasel was finishing a set of crunches, his second of thirty, when the analog clock chimed off. Reggie smirked as he heard his girlfriend shift in bed. She groaned and rolled off the bed, slowly making her way to the ringing clock. "Morning!" the mustela greeted.

Sheri mumbled something incoherently as the procyon stopped the ringing clock. She yawned and stretched her arms wide. The raccoon turned and blinked at the Weasel working out at the end of the bed. "Reggie?" whispered Sheri, blinking and rubbing her eyes, "What are you doing up?"

The mustela rested with a sigh, laying flat on the black and white frieze carpeting. He scratched his bare chest with a grin, "Just getting a quick workout in."

The raccoon sat on the edge of the bed, eyes still heavy with sleep, "How long you been up?"

Reggie shrugged, "I dunno, maybe a half hour? I couldn't sleep anymore."

"But you did sleep?" Sheri cautiously asked, seeming to become my cognizant.

The young officer's grinned turned to a grimace, "Yes I did. It was five hours...but it was enough." The first few nights he slept at Sheri's had been difficult. As comfortable as the Weasel felt being in the raccoon's apartment, he felt that anxious trying to sleep there. The worst was the second night when Reggie woke up drenched in sweat and Sheri nervously watching him. Apparently he had been tossing and turning violently. The mustela couldn't look her in the eye the next morning. Still Sheri did everything in her power to make Reggie comfortable, and there had been nights where neither of them had slept.

"Any nightmares?" the procyon probed, rubbing her eyes with her paws.

Reggie propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head, "No, just anxious about today." Today was the day of his testimony while undercover. Beatrice, Wilde, Hopps and McHorn had already testified, and it was the mustela's testimony that would tie them all together. So many delaying tactics by the defense, so much wasted time from all the proceedings, and it centered on the young officer's testimony...or at least it did.

Sheri sighed and held her arms open to the Weasel. When he didn't budge she waved for him, "Come here."

The mustela moved to stand, softly groaning as he straightened up. The officer sat on the bed next to the raccoon and leaned into her open arms. Reggie closed his eyes and relished the feeling of the female's and his fur touching. This aspect of their relationship was still new to the male, and there were times Reggie would grow anxious at the thought of these moments ending. It wasn't rational, and the Weasel was aware of that, but self doubt doesn't disappear overnight. The mustela wrapped an arm around the raccoon's waist and sighed contentedly. The moment was slightly ruined when he heard the increasingly familiar soft snoring of his sleeping girlfriend. "Uh, Sheri?"

The raccoon had fallen asleep, her head resting on top of the Weasel's. Reggie shook a bit, but that didn't seem to work. "Sher~ri," he sing songed, "Time to wake up."

Sheri's grip tightened and she mumbled "Five more minutes."

The Weasel chuckled and shook the procyon once more, "Sorry sweetener but you gotta get up."

"Sweetener?" yawned the raccoon.

Reggie grinned, "Trying out a nickname. How you like it?"

"Terrible."

The Weasel scoffed and rolled his eyes, "And cutie's better?"

Sheri giggled, hugging him close, "Much!"

"Alright, alright," grumbled the mustela, untangling from the embrace and standing, "It's time for you to get up and shower."

The barista groaned, "Can't we call out!"

Reggie sighed heavily and smiled apologetically, "Not today sadly."

Sheri grimaced, "Sorry...I know that's not fair." She pushed off the bed and finally stood. The raccoon placed a delicate kiss on Reggie's nose, "Why don't you get the coffee started and I'll jump in the shower. Ok?"

The officer nodded, "Ok."

The female ambled over to the bathroom door right of the closest and opened the door. She stretched once more with a yawn before closing the door behind her.

Reggie had watched the entire journey and enjoying the view. Never in a million years would the Weasel have guessed this is where he would have ended up. For all of his baggage, he still found someone who he adored. It was sometimes hard for the mustela to accept that it was real. That Reggie, grumpy Weasel officer of the Z.P.D., had somehow found a mammal who brightened his existence. He couldn't help but smile at how things were turning out.

His revel was broken by a yawn. Another came and the Weasel did his best to stifle it by placing a fist over his mouth. "Coffee sounds good right now," thought the mustela, "Just hope I don't burn the beans like last time." The mustela heard the telltale sputter of the shower starting. "Well..." muttered Reggie as he scratched his neck, "Time to start the day."

Reggie waited patiently behind the shatter proof glass of Sahara Square Correctional Facility. He drummed his claws on the counter as the prisoner was being brought out. The Weasel was annoyed at how long he'd been waiting. The prisoner had specifically asked to speak to him, and yet the prison seemed ill-prepared for his arrival. Finally the buzz of an electric lock disengaging and a large metal door swinging open interrupted the young officer's thoughts.

A large Rhino stepped through first, scanning to confirm the area was secure. It was redundant since Reggie was the only mammal there, and he wasn't getting through three inches of plexiglas. The corrections officer moved to the side of the doorway and stood at ease. Another officer, a Caracal, ushered in the Pika prisoner. Herbert Himils didn't look much different from their last meeting, except for the bright pink jumpsuit he wore. The lapine wasn't cuffed and waved at Reggie as he approached the opposite side of the glass. The officer waited until the former accountant settled into his seat, fixing his glasses before picking up the phone on his end. Reggie followed suit.

"My, don't you look dashing!" complimented Himils, "All dressed up and ready to go!"

Reggie was in his dress uniform, the dark blue in stark contrast to the sand colored walls of the facility. The Weasel's blank expression didn't change. "What do you want Himils?"

"Want?" responded the Pika coyly, "Why would I-"

"Don't play games," the mustela deadpanned, "You want me to change my testimony."

"Of course not!" exclaimed the lapine with a shocked expression. He leaned closer to the glass with a reassuring smile, "All I want is for you to tell the truth."

Reggie's brow quirked, "Which is...?"

"That Kedi is the one who ordered you to commit those terrible crimes, not little old me." Himils leaned back, sullen expression in place as he placed a delicate paw on his chest. "That I simply got caught up in his madness!"

The officer remained silent, making sure that the Pika was finished with his performance. He smirked, "Funny, that's not what Svinya said." Himils froze and Reggie tilted his muzzle up, "In fact, he said that you contacted everyone and set up everything."

"Officer, would you believe the word of a criminal?" questioned the lapine as innocently as possible.

"His word is better than yours," shot the Weasel with a hard glare, "I personally know what you're capable of."

"Oh come now, I never laid a claw on you. Somehow you're confusing me with Mr. Skaal."

"I forgot how independent Skaal is," replied Reggie sardonically, "Like he never listens to orders from the mammals above him." The Weasel sighed and ran a paw over the top of his head, "Why'd I even agree to this?"

"I know why," started the Pika with a sly grin, "It's because you loved what you did. Every second of it." Himils leaned closer to the glass, dropping his voice so low the Weasel could barely hear it, "You were born to be Xander Claws. When others floundered, you flourished. When things went wrong, you knew the way out. I believe that there is no trick you don't know, no scheme that you couldn't perform, and no crime you couldn't commit if you put your mind to it!" The lapine laughed, his free paw covering his snout, "Kedi never did use you correctly, only saw you as muscle and not the right paw mammal you are. In some way it was a blessing that you're a cop, if not you would have stolen the entire operation right under his paws! It's a shame you have a weakness for the opposite sex. A pity really, you could have been Great."

Reggie remained silent, unsure how to respond to the Pika. His first instinct was to deny everything Himils said, but a part of him agreed with the criminal. The Weasel loathed admitting it, but there were times when being "Xander" was better than being Reggie. Reggie could never take over a prostitution ring, but Xander could and did. He could never beat mammals senseless over owed debts or past due promises, but that was Xander's bread and butter. Rob a jewelry store, escape from the cops, and even torturing someone that was all in Xander's wheelhouse. In some way or another they made Reggie feel alive. Adrenaline pumping through his veins as he outmaneuvered or outsmarted his prey was an unbelievable rush as he stalked mammals alone.

The final thought gave the Weasel pause. He had been alone. Sure he had eventually developed a friendship with the girls, but that didn't have to happen. The cop could have kept them at arms length away and not helping them. He regretted even thinking of not helping. There were long, lonely nights where his only company was anxiety and fear. If not for Cherry, Saffron and Jezebel, Reggie would have gone insane. The loneliness, fear and nightmares that he suffered during that time weren't worth the price for Xander.

"I didn't realize how much I've rose tinted..." murmured Reggie.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Please do beg," the Weasel snidely remarked, "Just like Mister Harrington, or Miss Leaps, how about Mister Chevel?" The mustela leaned forward and sneered, "You're right Himils, there's a part of me that enjoyed what I did..." He leaned back into his chair, his expression blank, "...but there's a bigger part of me that despises everything I did." Reggie's mouth twitched, the growing need to bare his teeth almost breaking his mask. "I'll live with what I did, what I let you do, for the rest of my life...but it'll be the only reminder I need to never turn back into the monster I was."

"Truly a pity," replied the Pika coolly, "that someone with your talents will never reach your full potential."

"So long as you remain behind bars, I can live with unfulfilled potential."

"What a waste," remarked Himils, a look of disgust on his face, "You and the time I've squandered today."

"Well then, let me head out and I'll see you at trial!" The young officer smirked, "Remember to dress appropriately." Reggie moved to hang up the phone when heard the lapine protest.

"Wait officer!"

The Weasel's brow quirked, curious what Himils was about to say, and raised the phone back to his ear.

"Be careful of your surroundings Officer Weaselton, you never know what...or who...may be lurking around every corner." The Pika grinned sadistically and hung up the phone, turning his back from the glass and being escorted once more by the guards.

Reggie frowned, phone still in paw, as watched the lapine disappear through the same doorway. He tersely hung up the phone. "See you soon," muttered the officer.

The young officer had laid his head on the bar of O'Hare's, paw resting on the glass handle of half a mug of beer. His uniform was opened revealing his undershirt. Reggie felt defeated, beaten by Wezaill in the courtroom. The lawyer had played the officer like a fool, to the point that the younger Weasel wouldn't be surprised if some of the jury believed it was all Reggie's idea! The mustela groaned and knocked his head against the bar. "What is wrong with me?"

"For starters you look like you went through a dryer," Wilde stated sarcastically, "after that it looks likes you're drinking something cheap." The Fox sat on the stool next to his partner with a tired sigh, "Days like today you drink something a bit higher brow." The vulpine raised a digit, "Bartender! A glass of Heferkin and glass of water."

"I didn't know you drank?"

The older officer smirked, "I don't." He pushed the drink as soon as it arrived to the empty stool next to him and kept the water. He tapped the glass rhythmically, gaze forward and unfocused. "Natty jammed you up," muttered the vulpine, "he's one of the best for it. You'll get another shot at him again." Wilde chuckled and brought the water to his lips, "That 'genetically prone to violence' bit was brazen to say the least, and any other officer wouldn't have connected with."

"My past drags me down..." Reggie said sullenly.

"Nah, makes you strong. Makes me stronger, even makes Carrots stronger too."

"What makes me stronger?" Hopps said, her brow raised quizically.

"The past," offered Wilde, "but of course yours doesn't come back to haunt you!"

"Har har Nick. The press conference was pretty much thrown at poor Reggie today, and that doesn't include the personal biases that I've had to fight against." The doe sighed heavily, "I don't think anyone is every truly free of their past..."

"Amen to that!" exclaimed the Fox.

"I'll drink to it," added the Weasel wearily.

"...but we shouldn't let that stop us." rebuked the Rabbit, "And I'm a little disappointed in both of you for agreeing with me."

Reggie glanced past the tod towards the doe, "So what should we do? My past mistakes just got rammed back down my throat." He closed his eyes and ran a paw over them, "If Himils gets out because of me..."

"Reggie, he won't." stated Hopps matter-of-fact, her gaze confident.

"But-"

"He...won't..." pressed Hopps. Her nose twitched and the mustela caught a whiff of sadness from the doe. "If he gets off...it'll be my fault!"

"Fluff, no-"

"Stop Nick!" she commanded, paw raised and chest out, "If Himils gets off, it'll be because I jumped the gun trying to get a confession." The detective's voice wavered, and she blew out a heavy breath, but no tears formed.

"Well Carrots," drawled Wilde, "I was there too, playing my part in that confession debacle. If you're to blame, so am I." The Fox looked down at his drink, swirling the liquid as the ice cubes clinked off the sides, "I wouldn't worry too much about tiny him getting off anyway. Natty played his part perfectly, but even the best defense is no match for such overwhelming evidence."

"You keep calling him Natty," remarked the Weasel, who cast a wary eye to his partner, "Is there something between you two?"

"Just a thin blue line," joked Wilde with a wry grin, "Oh and several years of working for the same mammal."

"Who?" questioned Reggie.

"You never told me about this." stated Hopps.

The Fox shrugged, "It was during those awkward years between eleven and right before I turned eighteen." He rolled a free paw in the air, "I wasn't even really hustling...well not really."

"Who!"

The grey doe studied the tod with a furrowed brow, "Define 'not really.'"

The vulpine smiled with half lidded eyes and spoke just above a whisper, "Wouldn't you like to know!"

"Yes I would," replied Hopps plainly. She poked the Fox on the nose with a blunt claw, "And you will tell me Mister Wilde."

"Well what are you gonna do...detective?"

The Rabbit leaned closer to the Fox, a paw walking up his thigh, "I might have to-"

"Oh rutt off both of you," hissed Reggie, "If you're gonna get pawsy, do it wherever you two normally do, just not next to me!"

"You can go away too," remarked Wilde with a glance over his shoulder.

"Nope! I was here first, so you two can scram."

"Alright Reggie, I get your point," conceded Hopps, "Intimiate displays in public are a no go."

"I don't care about that," grumbled the Weasel, "Just do it away from me...like over there!" He pointed to an empty corner booth, "Go be a cliché over there."

"Yes I forgot about the Fox/bunny couple cliché that exists," Wilde snarked, "Once again I'm living a stereotype!"

"That's nothing to be proud of Nick," chided Hopps, "more importantly, I believe revealing our relationship now may steal some of Grizzoli's thunder."

Reggie sighed and looked up. Hanging above the bar was a large banner that read "Congrats Sergeant Grizzoli." Officers not on duty were milling about, some still in uniform and others in civilian attire. Everyone had a drink in the paw, though not all were alcoholic, and were enjoying the party before the party. Word had just come down that the Polar Bear had been nominated for, and accepted, an open position at Precinct Six. The arctic ursine had disappeared for some time because in celebration of the big news, him and his family went of vacation. The move was obvious to everyone as Grizzoli lived in Tundra Town, but that didn't make it any easier. "When's he supposed to be here?"

"Any minute now," Hopps said, "Olivia and the kits should arrive not too much later."

"Gotta give it to Spots," started Wilde, "he sure can organize shindigs."

"What can't Clawhauser do?" remarked Reggie.

"Run the fifty meter dash in under an hour!" the Fix quipped.

"That's not nice Nick," scolded Hopps.

"Pass on the final donut?" offered the Weasel.

"Reggie!"

"Sorry Hopps had to say it," Reggie defended. He sighed a brought his still cool beer to his mouth, "I never thought things would change..."

"The more things change, the more they stay the same," the vulpine replied sagely.

"Change is good, necessary even." said the Rabbit, "Think back to earlier this year. All three of us were different mammals than who we are today!"

"Is it for the better?" questioned Reggie as he stared into his drink. A large paw slapped him on the back, and he glanced to see Wilde patting him.

"You know the answer cue. Because if it wasn"t, we wouldn't be here."

The Weasel sighed, but nodded, "You're right Wilde..." he smirked and raised a brow, "...for once!"

"Alright Q-Tip, I'll have you kno-"

"He's coming! shouted Snarlov from the other side of the bar, "Quiet everyone!" The lights lowered and the smallest mammals ducked underneath the bar.

"We could have hidden in our seats," the Fox whispered, "It would have been easy enough."

"Your red stands out like a beacon." the mustela whispered loudly, "He would have known something was up once he saw you!"

"Quiet both of you!" Hopps commanded with a hiss, her ears pointed towards the entrance, "I can hear them coming...Alright on three. One..."

"Two..." continued Wilde.

"Three!" finished Reggie. The door opened and the lights flicked on.

Hello Readers,

This is the final chapter of A Weasel's Watch. I'll admit I could have probably dragged this story on for any number of chapters, but didn't feel that was necessary. The growth I wanted for Reggie I felt like I achieved or at least started. This won't be the last you hear from our mustela friend as I already have another story in the works. That one is entitled "A Wolf's Song," and will follow Ralph Wolford. I'll admit it doesn't touch the grey areas that I feel this story delved into a times, but deals more with the rigidness of the situation individuals can be born into. If you have any questions about the story, please feel free to PM me. As always, criticism always welcome and I hope you enjoyed my story!

-CG