We take the front door out into Ispio's parking lot and walk along down the road. We drive a lot out of state but keep to walking in our town, must be a familiar territory thing.
"So, what's the plan?" I ask.
"We're gonna wait until Fake Troy gives me a hint."
"That's the plan?" A rock on the sidewalk. Kick! "Sounds a little half-baked to me."
"Oh, I'm sorry! Do you want to give your personal ghost a shot at finding a man whose first nature is stealth?" The rock I kicked lands in front of Clyde's path, and he kicks it too.
"Alright, point taken. Hey, we forgot to tell Adams about that weird thing last night. The one with the Sanic and stuff." The rock comes back to my path. Another kick, but a little harder this time.
"Firstly, it's Sonic. Secondly, she didn't give us a chance. What do you think it means?"
"I'm not sure, but it can't be good. What if he's like, trying to steal my life or something."
"How could he do that?"
"I don't know, maybe it wants more than just to live through your brain. It wants its own body."
"That's all well and good, but I asked how he could do that?"
"I said I didn't know!"
The rock I kick finally gets close again, and Clyde gives it a strong punt across the street. We watch it fly to a convenience store on the other side, but there's something going on in there. The window walls let us see two people inside, one moving quite frantically, the other standing completely still with his hands up in the air. The man holding still is an old human, one that I've known since I was a kid. Old Mr. Marvins had owned that store for years.
The one that's all over the place is dressed up in jeans and a hoody, with the hood covering his face. The bushy tail sticking out from the back side tells me that it's an anthro, not a human. He has something in his hand, and he's pointing it at Mr. Marvins. I can't actually see it, but I think it's safe to say that he has a gun. Mr. Marvins is getting robbed!
"Clyde!" I shout while pointing at the store.
He sees the scene that's going on and rushes over, crossing the street in a second. I follow quickly, running to the other side and ducking behind a low wall where Clyde is sitting.
"Troy, formation beta-052!" he tells me. It's a pattern for clearing a building with two agents. I learned that in the classes I was fortunate enough to actually take part in. I get up and sprint around the corner, jumping over a couple of trashcans and finding the side door that I know the store employees use to take out the garbage. I count to three and slowly open the door.
I'm greeted by the sight of the robber forcefully taking a bag out of Marvins' hand. The cash register is open and empty. The robber is a dark-grey wolf, and can't be more than twenty years old. Just a kid. Clyde jumps through the window, shattering it easily with his colossal frame. He spooks the wolf, who drops the bag of money and turns to face Clyde.
"Drop the gun!" Clyde shouts, pointing his gun at the boy. The wolf says nothing and simply shoots at him, missing the first shot. It's enough for Clyde to take cover behind the snack shelf, and enough time for me to reach down and grab my...
My gun is missing!
I look down at my hip to see an empty holster. How could I have lost my gun!? Did I drop it while jumping over the trashcans? Aw crap, Clyde's gonna die and it's all my fault!
Clyde spins around the corner from the other side, blind firing down the aisle. He looks to his side. "Suppressive fire, idiot!"
I'm about to open my mouth and say that I can't, but then a peculiar sight drops my jaw. My gun is floating! Right next to Clyde too! It raises itself above the shelf, firing away at the kid's general direction. The wolf sees the gun too as he straps on the same terrified face as I have, covering his head and ducking down.
Clyde rushes around to the other corner, rounding it expertly and tackling the wolf down. He easily overpowers him, placing his hands behind his back and zip-tying them up with the Ispio quick handcuffs. My gun follows him closely, and I run out from my spot and grab it while it hovers over him.
He turns to me after securing the robber. "Great job! It's been a while since you've engaged in a firefight, glad to see you haven't lost your step."
"Think again, pup. Your little friend there stole my gun right out of my holster!" I'm furious at how much territory this thing is willing to tread on. Whether it's the fact that Fake Troy is overstepping his bounds, or the fact that he is a better shot than me with my own weapon, it bugs the hell out of me!
He gives me a dumb look and sits down on the wolf. "What?"
"For Christ's sake, Clyde! That thing is leaving me in the dust with all its fancy tricks up its sleeve! I'm starting to feel a little obsolete here!"
"Thank you!" says Mr. Marvins. Truthfully, I've forgotten that he's there. "Thank you for your help! I'll call the cops, thank you!" He leaves to the backroom hurriedly, throwing the door open and leaving it hanging ajar.
"Are you seriously arguing about something I can't control?" Clyde asks.
"Well," I say, placing my hands on my hips, "I feel like I'm being replaced."
"By a ghost?"
"A damn ghost that can do everything I can, but better!"
"That's not true, you know that."
"It gets information for you that I couldn't, it helps you out in combat, it doesn't even need a disguise during a mission!"
"Okay, calm down. You're getting flustered, and we're still technically on the job," he says while pointing at the squirming wolf under him.
"I bet Fake Troy never gets flustered," I mumble under my breath.
"Excuse me?"
"I said why don't you two just get a room already!"
"Damn it, stop acting like a big baby! You make it sound like I'm on his side!"
"For all I know, you probably want him to stick around! Get all the clues, solve all the mysteries without me!"
He throws his arms up in the air. "Where is this attitude coming from? I want to get rid of him as badly as you do. I didn't ask for his help with the robbery, he just does it, and I can't tell if it's you or not."
"I..." Where is the attitude coming from? He had just helped save an innocent old man and caught a bad guy in the process, and here I am getting mad about it. What's happening to me? I don't feel like myself.
"That's what I thought, now cool yourself off. Get a soda or something." He leans his weight back, crushing the wolf a little more. I give a puffed-up grunt, very resembling to that of a teenage girl, and sit on the floor next to him. For the first time, I get a real good look at the wolf's face. Of course, he was huffing and puffing under Clyde's weight, but he isn't that bad of a looker.
"Can you believe this guy?" I ask him.
He looks at me, confused and frightened. "What the heck are you two talking about!?"
"Don't talk to the hostile!" Clyde yells.
"Well excuse me for having manners!"
Clyde gets off of the wolf and towers over me, "Look, I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you keep up this little temper tantrum!"
I gasp. "You wouldn't dare ruin my good looks!"
"Try me!"
Silence fills the room, even the wolf's breathing has calmed down with Clyde's pressure off of him. I stare into his eyes, not sure if I'm brave enough to call his bluff. I remember that time he had attacked me when we were working with Archer, but that was because he thought I became a murderer. Would he do the same over this small dispute?
I spit on his shoes.
"Oh, you little-"
He bends down to grab me, but I quickly turn away and dash out of there. I let out a small yelp as I feel my tail being pulled back and I go sliding across the floor in the opposite direction. He flips me over on my back and pins me down by the arms.
"You like spit, do you!?" He snorts loudly and lets a long line of saliva and mucus stretch slowly down from his lips. It gets closer and closer to my muzzle, and I shake my head from side to side.
What am I, his little brother? "Oh my God, quit being so gross! Get off of me!" My pleading does not phase him one bit, and I brace myself to clean Clyde's loogy out of my fur real soon. Just then, I think of a tactic that I haven't tried yet. Using my woman's voice, I scream at the top of my lungs.
Clyde's eyes widen as he slurps up his nasty string and coughs loudly; getting off of me and sitting on the floor. It's safe to say that he didn't expect that one bit. I sit up quickly, feeling a wicked smile pull on my lips.
"Yeah! A big brute like you still has a soft spot for the fairer sex!" That smile soon fades at the sound of the store's doorbell going off. I look towards it, and the only thing I see is a dark-grey furred tail leaving through the crack. "Uh-oh," I whisper. Clyde looks behind him, still choking on his own spit, and slams his fist on the ground in anger.
"You let him get away!" he yells. He looks back at me, and I smile the biggest smile I could possibly pull off without tearing my cheeks apart.
"Let's just say we let him off with a warning." He doesn't laugh. "At least we saved the money." Yup, I'm in trouble.
*** *** ***
Troy's House: Later that day
I shut my door and look down at my hips; gun-less and gadget-less. The suspension will do that to you. They confiscated my holster and put me on suspension! I was planning on coming home and feeling sorry for myself, but then I realized how much of an ass I've been acting like lately. It just wasn't my fault, but... it was, wasn't it? Clyde had stayed behind at H.Q. to explain the incident to Adams, letting her make the decision to strip me naked of all my gear and scold me for lacking professionalism. I check the time: 22:43. Today has been rotten, so crawling into bed right now sounded like the best plan I've had all day.
I don't bother turning on any of the lights, making my way through my dark house by memory alone. I feel the door to my bedroom and throw it open, spotting my moonlit bed from the window with the open blinds. I undress, switching to my pj's and closing up the blinds. Not even the warm coverings of my bed are enough to lift my spirits, but I drift off to sleep anyway, feeling just awful.
I wake up the next morning feeling like I haven't eaten in weeks! I groan in pain as I throw the blankets off of me and head straight for the kitchen. Usually, I check the mirror and fix myself up before breakfast, but today is just not the case. I am absolutely starving! The fridge door flies open with too much strength as it bangs against my wall and I search the shelves for any quick meals that I can take advantage of. On the bottom shelf is a half-eaten sandwich that I had made but never finished. I grab it, stuffing it into my mouth without giving myself the courtesy of sitting down first.
I finish it much too quickly, but I still feel my stomach begging for more! I pull open the bottom drawers and spot a bag of Instant-Salad, suddenly remembering how hard I work for the curvy body that I have. I tear the bag open and eat right out of it, not even pouring it into a bowl. I crumple up the empty bag, throwing it on the floor and telling myself, "I'll pick it up later." I search more, regretting the decision of mostly buying fruits and vegetables. I don't know why, but I really need to eat meat!
I stick my hand inside again, reaching for anything that I touch first, but then I notice something strange. There is something wrong with my hand. It doesn't look... real? I bring it closer to my face, learning just exactly what is wrong with it. It is transparent! I cover my eyes with it to test it out, and unfortunately, I get the results that I was expecting. I can see right through it! No, not between the fingers! Through the flesh! I have a ghost hand!
I dash to my bathroom, not bothering to close the fridge. I crash into the door, stumbling back a bit before opening the damn thing and looking into the mirror. My face! My face is the same! My whole body is see-through! I've become a living hologram!
Good discipline and proper training have taught me that in times like this, the worst thing to do is panic. I rest against the sink, looking at the ghostly fox in the mirror, and think about the next step to take. After some time passes, I figure out my next move.
"I need a goddamn burger."