aoiremart:

“Coffee?”

In the face of that question, an electrical discharge seemed to pass through Cynthia Walker. Her ears suddenly perked up, her amber eyes widened and her paw, which had been lazily lying on the desk up until that moment, twitched and hit the pen nearby.

It fell to the ground and rolled to the feet of Jack Savage. At that point, the hare corrected his sentence: “… Chamomile?”

“I…” the fox looked at him, shocked. “You surprised me, Mr. Savage.”

“I didn’t mean to” he replied, dryly. “You had your head resting on the desk, so I thought you had fallen asleep.”

Judging by her foggy eyes, his deduction was probably quite correct. However, if he had got to know her a bit, Cynthia would have never admitted it.

“You caught me in a weak moment.” She immediately played defense, and Jack couldn’t help but sigh because of that predictable reaction.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a criticism, Miss Walker.” … Despite his resignation to her attitude – or, maybe, because of that – the hare left the cup next to the pile of files rising from her desk – otherwise, there was a good chance that she would have refused it. “Drink it, if you want, or simply throw it. Your choice.”

Cynthia stared at him, blankly, and tilted her head. “Why you…?”

But he immediately cut her off. “I’ll leave you to your business. If you need help, give me a call.” With that, Jack Savage gave her a slight nod and proceeded to leave the office. When he reached the door, she called him.

“Jack.” She just pronounced his name, nothing more than that… but somehow, that mere word managed to be more eloquent than any other sentence they had said that day.

Jack turned and smiled at the fox. “You’re welcome” he replied, to save her the effort of saying words she wasn’t used to. “Good work, Cynthia.”

In his mouth, her name had a bittersweet taste.

___________________________________

This is the first story I have ever write on Jack and Cynthia, and the sketch that introduces it is also the first original drawing Rem has made to represent Cynthia.
Really, both story and art are so old. The date is August 2, 2016. 20fucking16. It’s hard to believe that we managed to come this far… but we did; today, we’re still here, making what make us happy. Is there something more wonderful? 💖

For the original link of the story on AO3, go here.

For a complete map of all the stories and comics in their temporal sequence, please consult the story’s timeline! 👈

For the other stories and comics, please visit this page: 📚 AoiRemArt Comics & Stories

Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post: ❣️ AoiRemArt Inauguration

Author: aoimotion
Drawings: rem289

Donations through PayPal: support us!

aoiremart:

“You know, Walker, I think I really like you.”

Cynthia closed the drawer of the desk with a thud and dropped against the backrest of her seat. What at the crack of dawn had manifested as a light headache, was now turning in a fully fledged migraine that, she knew, wouldn’t have given her a break until dark. 

But Cynthia had no time for headaches whatsoever. “Stella”, she called, a hint of suffering in her voice that the vixen would have rather concealed.

“Yes, ma’am?”, the ferret replied, popping up on her side with a glass of water in her small paws.

Cynthia gave a look at the glass and smiled a bit. “Is my migraine so noticeable?”

“It’s hard to not notice, actually. I believe that every mammal on this floor is aware of your discomfort by now, Ms. Walker”, was Stella’s comment, followed by a slight nodding as she proceeded to ask: “Did you already have breakfast?”

“Breakfast…? Ah”. Cynthia averted her eyes instinctively and mumbled: “I ate a cookie a little while ago… I think.”

“You think ?”

“Ok, maybe I didn’t. But I will, I promise. That is… after taking my medicine.”

“Medicines are meant to be taken in the fed state”, Stella quipped, impassive. “So, if you’re willing to swallow your paracetamol, you’d better eat something first.”

“I’m not hungry right now”, Cynthia said, although she knew that such a trivial excuse couldn’t work on her secretary.

And… it wouldn’t have worked on him , too, if he was in Stella’s position.

That thought yielded a vibrant sound inside her ribcage, something between a growl and a yelp. “What is this groan supposed to mean, ma’am?”, the ferret inquired.

In a spur of the moment, the vixen considered the possibility of telling Stella what was going through her mind: ‘ It means that Jack Savage is a damn idiot who raves about things he doesn’t even understand. And I’m dying to pack up, get on the first flight to Zootropolis, find that hare and rip him apart ’.

She thought it… but, unfortunately, that was all she could do. “Work”, she said instead. “The past few days have been quite… tough. But I’ll bounce back”, she promised, trying to give the ferret a positive smile.

Smile that, despite her best efforts, probably looked like an ungracious wince to the ferret, who just gave a little, exasperated sigh. “I’ll bring you a candy bar, and you’ll eat it all . Only then you will take your pill” she said, putting the glass of water over Cynthia’s desk.

Before Cynthia could reply, Stella had already headed towards the so-called “Emergency Supply” – which basically was a lockbox containing all sorts of sweets, saved specifically for those occasions when Cynthia needed to eat something, but her stomach had a different opinion on the matter.

Needless to say, only Stella had access to this special supply, to prevent the vixen from assaulting it in the opposite case… that is, when she got the munchies. Which had recently started to happen at an alarming rate. “Stella”, Cynthia called her again.

“Yes?”

“Just… thank you. I don’t know how I’d be if you weren’t here to keep me in line.”

“I’m pretty sure someone else would”, was the ferret’s aseptic reply, as she rummaged in the lockbox.

A light laugh escaped her. “I have my doubts, but thank you for the confidence you placed in my socializing skills.”

“They’re still better than those of a certain someone…”. A sudden touch of animosity crept in Stella’s voice and made Cynthia’s ears slightly rise in curiosity.

“Who do you mean?”, the vixen asked, although those words tasted like unpleasant rhetoric in her mouth.

“I don’t think this question needs an answer. I don’t want to ruin your day even more by naming mammals one can easily refrain from talking about, after all.”

“…”. Indeed, the thought of talking about Jack had already been discharged by Cynthia who, in order to preserve her already faltering mental sanity, would have done better to pretend the hare’s existence was on a par with a quantum phenomena, something that was fair to forget about until proven otherwise. ‘ If I don’t see him, I can safely pretend he doesn’t exist ’. That sort of thing. “I’m obliged to agree with you”, she eventually said, stretching a paw to reach the candy bar Stella was now lending to her. “Thank you, Stella.”

“This is the second time you thank me within three minutes. Are you sure you don’t need a chamomile too, in addition to paracetamol?”

“Ugh, I hate chamomile”, Cynthia grumbled, carefully unwrapping the candy bar. “It tastes like nothing. It’s like drinking hot water.

“I wasn’t wondering if chamomile was to your liking, but if it could help you deflate your overblown…  passionateness, ma’am.”

“Mh”. Cynthia sniffed the candy bar, then gave it a little nibble, to test the limits of the nausea which was putting knots in her stomach. But when the sweetness of the snack melted in the vixen’s mouth, she felt a sense of relief, as if part of her tension had just slipped away from her body. “Ingesting food or drink I don’t like irritates me”, Cynthia commented, chewing on the bar with a little more enthusiasm.

“Good grief…”. Stella shook her head, exasperated. “Ms. Walker, let me tell you that I find your approach to nutrition really immature for your age.”

In response to such honest – and unexpected – criticism, Cynthia gave the ferret a quite astonished look. “Stella, did you just… call me childish , basically?”

“Not you directly, but your way to perceive sustenance.”

“Well…!”, she rumbled, before swallowing up the second – and wider – bite of candy bar, “I have my reasons. Don’t you start too, please.”

Realizing she had probably stepped outside her role of secretary, Stella nodded briefly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you”, the ferret apologized. Then, she moved to return to her workstation. “However”, she added, “I told you this for your own good, ma’am. A healthy diet could help you with your recurring mood disorders.”

“You just sounded so like Jack…”. The sentence left Cynthia’s lips before her self-control could seize it, smack it and finally lock it up in the same dump it had squeezed out from without her consent.

She’d have gladly bitten her tongue… but Stella’s glare hit her before she could find the time to do as much. “ Jack ?”, she hissed. “Did you perhaps compared me with Mr. Savage, ma’am?”. The apparent calm in her voice was filled with wrath as much as Cynthia’s stomach was now filled with gastroesophageal reflux.

The vixen gulped, with the glaze of her snack suddenly feeling like glue inside her mouth. “Wouldn’t… dream of it”, she mumbled, before coughing to unclog her throat. “I was just saying. I could never compare you with J— Savage .”

Stella’s eyebrows had just took the form of a gliding eagle. “You’re doing it again.”

“That’s not true! … I mean, what was I doing again?”

“You know what, ma’am.”

“No, no, I really don’t know.”

“You’re lying .”

Cynthia crossed her arms over her chest and raised her muzzle, trying to take a leading position in the debate. “This is a serious charge, Ms. Rogers. Do you have any supporting evidence of your claim?”

“… Everything about your behavior is an evidence, I’m afraid”. Pity and resignation could be glimpse in Stella’s eyes, but Cynthia wasn’t even sure those new emotions were better than the killing aura that had passed over her face like a eerie shadow just a few seconds ago. “If I may be so bold, ma’am… you should definitely put that mammal out of your head. For your own sake.”

“Wha—?!”. Her exclamation had the same musicality of a rusted hinge, even the same taste of iron and dirt. “I… I don’t know what you mean, Stella.”

“Do you?”, she quipped.

“I do. I mean, I don’t!”. She was getting so flustered – and what was worst, she didn’t even know why – her head felt like it was about to explode. “Anyway, I believe it’s nothing that concerns you. I can perfectly handle myself.”

“I wonder… if it’s true”. This time, Cynthia sensed a hint of sadness in her voice. “I admit that I’m feeling a little worry about you. When it comes to him, you always look like you’re about to have a mental breakthrough.”

It was curious how they had actually ended up talking about Jack Savage – which was something they both agreed to not do – but secretly doing their best to avoid calling him by his name during the conversation. It almost made her laugh in suffering. “It’s because I can’t stand him, but I have to”, she sighed. “He’s so dense, selfish and stubborn. Unpredictable… and obscure. Sometimes I really want to…”.

And then… those cursed words were echoing inside her aching head, again and again: ‘ You know, Walker, I think I really like you ’.

‘ No, you don’t ’ , she silently argued. ‘You probably have no idea what it really means to like someone. You call me, ask for advice, try to guess trivia about me, and then… why are you like this? ’

“Ms. Walker?”

Cynthia came back to her senses abruptly enough to have her head spinning. “W-what is it?”

The ferret was looking at her with rather concerned eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Of course”, she lied. “Now, please, get back to work.”

“But, you just… became silent all sudden”. It was clear that Stella was doing her best to not push Cynthia more than she had already done. Indeed, right after that she murmured: “No… nevermind. I’ll get back to work, as you asked”. Stella made a little nod, averting the vixen’s eyes. “… I apologize for my importunity, ma’am.”

Cynthia shrugged. “It’s okay. I also apologize for making you worry about my condition”. She casually glanced at the clock on the wall… and made a considerable effort to keep her unpleasant groan confined in her chest. “Stella… would you mind confirming me that I have an appointment with Colonel Kohle in fifteen minutes?”

“That’s right”, said the ferret. “You remembered on your own, this time. What a rare event.”

‘ Unfortunately, it seems I’ve a tendency to remember the most unpleasant things ’. “It’s all thanks to the candy bar you made me eat”, Cynthia smiled. “Maybe I should start having breakfast regularly, after all.”

“Even so, you still haven’t took your medicine, Ms. Walker”. Stella pointed to the tiny, white capsule of paracetamol on her desk, next to the – still untouched – glass of water. “The candy bar wasn’t enough, I gather.”

“Oh…”. This time, the vixen couldn’t help but manifest her fatigue with a deep, tired sigh. “… Jesus Christ.”

“I hardly believe He’s listening, ma’am.”

“Oh, you bet He isn’t”. Cynthia chuckled as she picked the pill and finally swallowed it with a single sip of water. “He probably has other businesses to take care of. And now”, she continued, getting up from her chair, “I’ll proceed to take care of mine.”

“Please don’t push yourself more than is necessary, Ms. Walker. Otherwise, I expect your head to explode without prior warning.”

“Oh, it’d be awful to have my head exploding before that of a certain mammal. I must prevent it from happening”. Cynthia massaged her eyebrows, mentally preparing herself to her meeting with Gregory. It wasn’t gonna be easy, and the vixen was perfectly aware of this fact; still, she had to do everything she could to continue her investigation. By then, it had became a matter of principle. “Oh, yes”, she said when she reached the door, “care to have lunch together later, Stella?”

“I wouldn’t mind”, Stella replied. “That is, if you’re not planning to make me eat chips and candies.”

“Hey, I don’t—! It just happens once in a week.”

“I’m pretty sure there were seven days in a week, the last time I checked.”

“Stella!”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You…”. Cynthia shook her head, concealing ad amused smile which wouldn’t have been appropriate in that context. “I’ll take you in a nice place for lunch, and then you’ll apologize for your sarcasm, my little ferret.”

“Okay”, she simply said. “See you later, then.”

“Right. See you later”. Cynthia exited her office, still trying to gather her resolution – which was being undermined by her rough migraine – as the thought of confronting Gregory started to build a subtle nervousness in her.

But Cynthia would’ve gotten to the bottom of that story, once and for all.

___________________________________

if you’re wondering where the first sentence of the story comes from (“You know, Walker, I think I really like you”), it’s because you didn’t read Exhausting phonecall – which would be a huge shame, actually.

I think this is the first time I show you a consistent interaction between Cynthia and Stella, her secretary. It also is the first time I make Rem draw such a smiling Cycy! She’s cute, isn’t she? ❤ This story is settled right after Episode 7 of BJ and hints to something going on that will be very important in the sequel.

Anyway, infodump aside, I want to thank you for your support, because it’s your encouragement that makes me want to write more and more, even if English is not my native language – I think you can feel it in my stories. Really, I’m so grateful to all of you. See you tomorrow with, hopefully, a 💕 S. Valentine 💕 art!

For the original link of the story on AO3, go here.

For the other stories and comics, please visit this page: 📚 AoiRemArt Comics & Stories

Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post: ❣️ AoiRemArt Inauguration

Author: aoimotion
Drawings: rem289

Donations through PayPal: support us!