Author's Note:

While life makes it tough to write sometimes, I have soooo many stories tumbling around in my head and they want to be free! I am setting this one free and allowing it to rampage through your story feeds. While this story is part of the Guardian Blue continuity, those following that story will notice a very singular difference right away. Please enjoy!

If you are just joining this series for the first timethis story is in the continuum AFTER Season 2, so you will definitely want to read Thanks for the Fox and Guardian Blue Season One and Season Two for important context!

I didn't ask Disney for permission to use these characters, but I kind of doubt they'd care, they were gonna ice the main character here! Still, I do not profit from this and the story is written entirely for your enjoyment, and mine.

Also! A HUGE shout-out to J. N. Squire for assisting with editing this series! His help with editing is improving me as a writer over time, so I hope that his helping me only gets easier as we go.

The Duke of Absolution

Chapter 1: Fortune and Misfortune

Foxes. It all came down to foxes. Duke really didn't care about them. He didn't associate with them, and he avoided those shifty canids where possible, because if there was any creature in all of Zootopia more maligned than he was… it was foxes. But, his whole life was now completely derailed, not because of a bad dealing with a fox, but for the nicest thing the boney weasel had ever done for one. Now, everything was messed up. Duke shouldered the simple canvas bag and continued walking along the alleyway. He spotted another soda can and picked it up. He fastidiously made certain it was empty before crushing it against the wall.

"Yeah, join my aluminum army, my flattened metal soldier," he said with a sneer before putting the crushed can into the bag. How had it actually come to this? Was this really how it was all supposed to go? He scurried the rest of the way down the untidy alleyway and made the fortuitous discovery of three more cans. The river-side of Happytown was always extra-filthy. It had been less so in the past three weeks because anything that could be recycled had been gathered by him. He was out of his element, the former Duke of Bootleg. He was now just Duke Weasleton, and he was collecting cans.

As he rounded the corner and moved back onto the street, he nearly got stepped on by a yak who was too engrossed in his phone to notice the smaller mustelid. He darted out of the way, twitchy reflexes once again sparing him injury. Duke sighed and pulled the toothpick out of his narrow little muzzle. He'd snapped it in half in his teeth in surprise at nearly being stomped on.

"You were m' last cinnamon. Great. Just the plain ones left now. Sorry ol' gal." Duke flicked the toothpick away with disdain. He kicked a smoking habit with toothpicks but now he didn't have the cash to buy a cigarette even if he wanted to start again. He scurried along, the bag over his shoulder mostly full. It wasn't too heavy. He preferred to collect lighter metals. Making sure the cans were completely empty was another thing he picked up very early on which made a significant difference in the load. He hoped to find some of the larger cans used by elephants or rhinos, but pickers seemed to have already hit this area. They often selectively went for those items. It was just easier. Duke didn't care since there was still something left for him.

He was mostly ignored by mammals going about their business, rushing back and forth to enjoy their daily lives, simple or complex. Duke envied the choices they must have in the city, but couldn't begrudge them that. The limit to his choices had been one of his earliest and most foolish choices. There was no undoing that now. He arrived at his destination and stood behind three raccoons with full bags. They were obviously a family, all doing this same thing together.

"Got a haul down by the docks today, huh?" Duke asked casually.

"Not tellin'," the youngest of the raccoons, barely more than a child, stated.

"That'll be a yes. I kin smell tha salt." Duke stated with a roll of his large eyes.

"Don't talk to him, sweetie," came the honestly expected reply of his mother.

"What, cause I'm doing the exact same thing yer all doing?" the weasel asked.

The larger father raccoon stepped forward. "No, because we don't need to hear anything from you, so shut it."

"Nice to meetcha." Duke said, gazing downward, and offering no other attempt at conversation. He didn't really take it personally. They were standing in this line for a reason, and trust was hard to earn from broken mammals. It wasn't worth the struggle to win that trust either. If you weren't supplying something that someone wanted on these streets, you were no one's friend.

Duke used to be the mammal others came to when they wanted something. He thought he had friends back then. He was invited places. He did things. He knew lots of mammals. Sure, he didn't come across a lot of these things honestly, and it caused him a lot of headaches to get it, but he was important. At least, from time to time he was. But he had nothing anyone wanted now, and no way to get it at this point even if he did.

He found out very quickly that those dozens of important friendly contacts were far too busy to deal with a weasel that had nothing, so he was making the best out of what he could. The raccoon family went in through the door, then out, still looking sullen. There wasn't a lot of comfort here. But, there was a little, and that was enough. Duke went through the doors and spilled his cans out on the scale. The plate rattled noisily, and then went still. It then tipped and dumped all the 'trash' down a chute with a much louder din. A column with a picture of money stenciled onto it dinged, and a green light popped on.

Duke retrieved his earnings and sighed. Eight dollars. It would have to be enough. He didn't need much, after all. Not just to be okay until tomorrow. A lot of his time these days was spent dwelling on making sure he'd be alright tomorrow. He wiped his little paws off on his white tank-top shirt and put them in the pockets of his black and red shorts. The chocolate-toned weasel sauntered down the road a little ways to a place he knew very well, and always felt welcome.

The sun was at its highest point in the sky, which made for a warm trek, but Duke never had much luck gathering recyclables in the evening or at night, there were too many other mammals that had the same idea. The competition wasn't fair for smaller mammals. He braved the heat of day for his meal ticket. And a meal ticket this was! He entered "The Meek", a small and unassuming diner that catered to smaller mammals. Nothing larger than a coyote would likely even fit through the door. The food was decent though, and the prices were low. Best of all, they were just like him. They liked money, and didn't care who gave it to them. He was never treated unkindly so long as he was a customer. He could live with that.

"Usual?" asked the older meerkat lady at the counter.

"Nah, been tight. Just a biscuit, some butter, and a coffee. Did you guys happen to've got any more ah yer toothpicks?" Duke asked.

The meerkat looked at him with a tilt of her head. "No, you've wiped em all out, hon. The trade shop didn't have anymore. We'll get em back in soon, I'm sure. We have non-flavored ones if you like."

"Thanks Sadie, but no. I got those. They ain't as satisfyin'," he murmured. Duke sat down and waited for his food to be served, really looking forward to his coffee. If he could get coffee and nothing else, he would not count his day as a full write-off. He watched the other patrons. They were literally all on their phones. It didn't seem so long ago that everyone was staring into open newspapers, small fiction novels, all that. It felt like things were moving forward with technology, but was it really, actually, and truly forward?

"One biscuit!" Sadie chimed, placing the small round plate before him. A single friendly pat of butter sat cheerily alongside it. It was steaming and warm. Yes, that would be enough. Sadie filled Duke's coffee cup and added, as per usual, three sugars and extra cream. The weasel could happily drink coffee black, but this way, he got more energy and sustenance from it. The cream especially. He thanked Sadie and enjoyed his food. He took his time with it, since it wasn't much and felt more fulfilling if it still took kind of long to eat. He wasn't very large, but he needed a lot of energy. Weasels had pretty high metabolisms.

After Duke finished and Sadie gathered his plate and his money, he regarded her quietly a moment. He finally murmured quietly, "Did Mikey ever get back with ya about my application? The sign's still on the door." He poked a thumb in the direction of it.

The kind meerkat sighed. "I wish we could Duke, you know I do, but the job requires you to be able to lift 50 pounds. You don't even weigh fifty pounds, hon."

"Can you pick up 50 pounds?" Duke asked. She glanced away. "If it's my background check, you kin tell me that, y'know. I'm not gonna get all offended."

Sadie looked back up to him, "I'm sorry, Duke. It was. I wish I could help, but…" She appeared mildly uncomfortable.

The weasel shook his head, "You don't gotta apologize. I made my bed, not you. It's fine. Thanks for lettin' me try anyway." He was angry, but it wouldn't do any good to let it show. He was trying. What good did it do if there was literally nothing to try for? Still, he was determined. There was still something he could do, and for now he was doing it. For how lowly the task felt, it still felt like more honest work than the insurance company did. He didn't mind that job, but he did not realize how quickly mammalian resources would catch that he had maybe not been entirely forthcoming on his application when it asked if he'd been convicted of a felony. He had marked it in such a way that the line kind of went a tiny bit through yes, and a little more through no. A few weeks into that job, despite things going swimmingly, he was out.

He'd figure something out. He was smart! He just needed time to think. As he got up to leave, he heard a voice behind where he'd been sitting.

"Not working right now then?" It was a very pleasant and melodic female voice. Duke turned and peered into the other booth. A rather elegant-looking lady fox was sitting there. She was older, and wore a nice, proper dress and accompanying shawl. She looked like she could maybe have a bit of money to her name, but looks could be deceiving. This was especially true when dealing with deceivers. Duke regarded her pleasant smile carefully, trying to gauge her. She seemed just a little too pleasant.

"I don't have so much as a buck on me," he explained. He didn't want anything from her, and had nothing to give her even if he did. Which he didn't. He turned away.

She spoke again, smiling brightly to the weasel. "I could use a little help with something. It's rather hard work, but if you really need the money, I don't suspect you'll mind." She seemed educated in her tone and somewhat demure compared to what he was used to with vixens in and around Happytown.

Duke watched her with a measured gaze for a moment. He knew a too-good-to-be-true when he saw it. He spoke in a softer tone, "I'm not sure if you just heard the little exchange there, lady, but I'm not farin' so good these days an' it's all from crossing the legal line. If this work is…" He saw her frown slightly.

She shook her head vigorously. "Oh! Goodness, no. It's labor. Simple 'move this stuff over here to that place over there'. I could go through one of those on the spot hire places, but I don't have time to sit there and fill out forms and all that. I have too much to do."

"I'm not the kind ah mammal most folks ask to do heavy labor." Duke indicated his smallness. "You'd likely have better luck with a larger mammal. You have lots of options." He didn't like passing up money. He never liked passing up money, but this had trouble written all over it. He knew better.

The vixen looked a little crestfallen, and replied softly, "Can you think of a reason why randomly finding a decent mammal to help me might be harder for me?" she asked, scooping up her own tail and stroking it, a clear indication of what she meant. Duke tensed up. She knew he was avoiding her. She knew it was because he suspected she was conning him somehow, and she had very sharply ascertained why.

"Look lady, I will help if yer really payin'. But I been tricked before… and it ain't about you. This kin be a hard city for the trusting sort. No way you been around this long and ain't found that out yet." He followed her as she went to the counter to pay for her coffee.

"I promise, you will be recompensed fairly for your labor, Derek," the vixen stated kindly. She took some cash out of her pocketbook and paid, before turning to head out the door. "Come along, then. It's not far. It won't take too long."

"It's Duke. Duke Weaselton." He turned to follow her, but saw a flash of green flutter down from the edge of her pocketbook. He glanced down at it as she stepped out the door. She dropped money, neatly folded. It was the one thing everyone pretty much always wanted. He leaned down to pick it up. It was two fifties. His heart nearly froze. He looked up and noticed that the fox was completely outside the diner, and no one else saw him pick it up.

Duke cringed at that. That was it. The world was just messing with him. It was baiting him into thinking his luck was just swinging right back around. He growled a little through his teeth, pushing out the door.

"Lady! Hey lady, hold up!" The weasel strode quickly after her up the sidewalk. She turned around, giving a kind smile.

"I wasn't gonna leave you," she stated pleasantly. "I knew you'd catch up."

"You uh… You dropped dis," he said, offering her the folded up cash.

"Oh! Wow…" She was obviously a little embarrassed. "That would have been silly of me. I need that to actually buy the stuff you are supposed to carry." She took it back. Duke sighed as the sweet, sweet money went away. He walked along behind the vixen, watching her voluminous tail sway side to side, the pungent smell of fox wafting about. There were flecks of silver mixed into her russet fur, showing her to be a refined older mammal. She appeared respectable at a glance, but how many times had he made that mistake before? What in the world was he doing? He felt pretty sure this was not going to be as lucrative as what he already had clutched in his little paw. Still, he had his reasons.

"Hard work huh?" he asked, making small talk as they walked. "Nothing more'n like… 30 pounds, right?"

She replied in a sunny tone, "You'll have a paw-truck to use, it won't be too bad, but I'll have one as well, and I can't manage two on these busy sidewalks." Duke nodded, feeling like that was reasonable. He scurried quickly to keep up. She was taller, so his short legs needed to move faster. They walked down the avenue for a while, Duke alert to not just let her lead him into a blind alley or something. He felt kind of bad about his caution, he really did, but foxes had a reputation for a reason. He wasn't interested in being tricked today.

Finally, after a bit more walking, he found that he was being led into a hardware store. This was really not what he was expecting. He figured he might be hauling the possibly wealthy older lady's groceries back for her or something. Maybe she was fixing up her place. She immediately wasn't sure where to go.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Duke inquired.

"Paint." The lady fox answered.

"I'll take ya to it. I used to do some fix-it stuff, before my little 'change of employment opportunities'," he said, trying to doll up the obvious.

The older, more elegant female followed behind the thin, ropey mustelid. "So… you've been to prison then, is that what I am understanding?" she asked.

Duke sighed as he led her to the appropriate aisle. Here it came. "Yeah, three times, actually. First time was a dumb mistake, second time I probably deserved it. I did about six months. Third time… I really messed up. I woulda been in there for who knows how many years, but I cut a deal with the DA. I got out in six months with spotless behavior." He indicated that they were at the paint. If she were any kind of respectable mammal, she would probably pass him five bucks for his time and suggest they part ways.

The fox was quiet for a while as she moved down the aisle with two little swatches that she had taken out of her purse for comparison. It was a pink and eggshell combination she had there. She focused on that for a while, leaving Duke hanging anxiously. Was she trying to think of a way to ditch him or an excuse to dismiss him? He didn't need to be insulated. As she looked, she finally spoke again. "Did you hurt anyone?" He recoiled at that.

"What? No, good gravy no! First time was for shopliftin', second time was possession of counterfeit merchandise with intent to distribute," he explained. "Third time… I dunno… I didn't hurt no one directly… but I was stealin' stuff that ended up getting used bad. Mammals got hurt, even if I didn't do the hurtin'. No lyin' about that. I don't… I dun wanna talk about it." Everyone he knew that hadn't been inside of a prison liked to think that the moment anyone went to jail they had to be a monster. That was the crux of his whole problem these days. "Just… Just know I ain't the type to go around hurtin' anyone." He paused at that, recalling what harm the Nighthowlers he was collecting had caused and trailed, "… at least, not intentionally."

The fox smiled at that and shook her head. "Well that's good. Still, it seems like you aren't too successful at the uh… other stuff either." She gave a rather smug smile. Duke scrunched his little muzzle. What was that supposed to imply?

"I ain't successful at it 'cause I ain't doing it no more," he said, pointing at a can of paint that seemed to match the swatch. The vixen immediately compared and accepted that with a curt nod.

"Well, I can't say I am disappointed at all by that," she stated, "… but why the change? Just reformed in jail?" she asked. Duke shook his head as she moved the cart over and then put four very large cans into it. She then quietly started searching for the other color. Duke did not feel like sharing all his problems and complexities with anyone, even if she appeared nice.

He said gruffly, "I had a wakeup call, that's all."

The rather graceful vixen regarded him a moment, and then nodded. "Good enough, I suppose, but I know it's hard." He shook his head. This likely 'well-to-do' fox didn't know the half of it. She found the other color she was after and took two large cans of that. She then picked up four large cans of primer and some paint thinner and a few brushes and roller, all found between this same aisle and the next. Duke figured that it really would be hard to get all that home on her own.

They went to the registers, the total being over a hundred, along with deposit and rental of the paw-trucks. Duke would have really ruined her day if he'd kept the money and bolted. He was glad he didn't, and actually scolded himself for it ever even crossing his mind. Maybe he needed it more… he didn't know, but that wasn't who he was going to be. He followed the lady out, appreciating her kindness in helping him get the paint onto his paw-truck and secured. She took an equal amount on hers, and they started walking. Duke originally suspected that she might live in a nice established neighborhood like one might find on the outskirts of Happytown, but they didn't go that way. They stopped at a bus stop.

"You said it was close," Duke stated with a hint of irritation. He didn't want to end up half way across town! He didn't even know how much this old fox was paying him. If he got back in time he might even be able to gather enough cans not to have to pick up any tomorrow.

"No, I said it wouldn't take long. And it won't. Don't worry, it's not too far," she said encouragingly. She had a very pleasant demeanor even when Duke knew he was being a little abrasive. He felt a little out of place even being around her. Would someone like this really have had trouble finding anyone else to do this? They got on the bus and carefully secured the paw-trucks. The vehicle pulled away, and the weasel rode along quietly for a while.

The vixen eventually spoke up. "Do you have any family?" she asked. Duke looked up at her. While he might normally have been irritated by that sort of question from a near stranger, the warmness of this fox really pushed the sweet familial sort of tone. It just felt like the kind of thing he would have expected her to ask if she was making small talk.

"I got a sister here in the city, and she's got kits. My mom and Dad are gone, and I ain't really the relationship type. I ain't easy for mammals to get along with for long periods. I tried it, it ain't for me," he said, a little jittery talking about personal stuff. He chewed one of his claws. The fox was quiet a moment and then opened her purse, digging around in it. Duke closed his eyes to hide the fact that he was almost painfully rolling them. Of course. She was going to show him a family album, he just knew it. When he opened his eyes, he saw instead a wrapped sucker held out to him. He blinked.

She offered in that honeyed tone, "I heard you asking about toothpicks. This is all I've got. It's hot though." Duke could immediately smell the cinnamon. Did he choke on his biscuit and die? What luck was this? He took the treat. Of course this sweet old dame carried candy in her purse, why wouldn't she? All sweet old dames carried candy in their purses for little kits when they came near.

"Th-thank you," he said.

"Former smoker?" she asked.

"Yeah. And before y' ask, I quit cause smokin's why it's just me'n my sister now." He unwrapped the sucker and popped it in his mouth. Red, spicy heaven.

"Sorry to hear that," she replied, her tone sounding genuine. They were quiet again for a moment, riding on the bus. The longer he was near her, the more out of place Duke felt. This was a really nice lady. He no longer expected to be conned by her, he expected someone else to con her and him to have to see that. That would test his limits more than trash-picking did. "This is our stop," she finally said, nodding ahead. Duke helped get her started with moving the buckets off the bus. The driver, a wolf, helped her as well. Finally, they walked on a much calmer sidewalk. It was no longer lunch time, so that was a factor. There were restaurants and a few small shops along this stretch. It did not look at all residential.

Finally, they arrived in front of what looked like a closed and boarded up shop. The lady fox parked her paw-truck and dug in her purse, taking out some keys.

"You live here?" Duke asked curiously.

"No, I'm hoping to work here. Setting up shop, as it were," she offered. Duke stepped back a little. It was a fairly small shop in the front, but was likely set back pretty deep. It was two stories, set in a little strip between a noodle place and a zany-looking fortune-telling place. He wondered what the kind vixen would be selling here. She felt like the 'scrap-book and pictures of baby animals' sort, if he had to guess. If he ever got money again, he would check it out. With a jingling of keys, the door was opened and he stepped inside.

Duke whistled. It was… rough. It was going to need a healthy portion of work before this was the kind of shop that this nice, refined vixen belonged in. The floor was mottled and stained concrete. The walls were bare and off-white with a few dents and holes. The ceiling was just railing and lights and duct-work with one big wobbly ceiling fan. The back area looked like it had actually been on fire at some point, though the scorching was minimal and the damage was repairable. Evidence suggested that might have been a little restaurant that caught fire at some point.

"Oh yeah, it looks like it needs some work!" Duke announced.

"Yes, it's gonna be a project for sure!" the fox joyfully laughed. Duke turned to comment on the condition of the place, and saw the vixen holding another fifty dollars. It was a single bill, offered to him.

He stared at it, his already large eyes suddenly even larger. "That… is quite a bit more than I expected," Duke said in a cautious tone. Sweet lemon drops. It was actually legit. It wasn't a trick. There was no lead into something less reputable, or an outright cheat of his time. He felt a loathsome prickle of shame for having automatically assumed it would be. She didn't deserve that. He took the cash. He would be able to have an honest to goodness supper. It had been a while.

"You worked, you deserve to be paid. Right?" she asked.

"I rolled a cart." Duke insisted, though not immediately giving the money back. He really needed this.

"Very professional-like, I might add," the fox chuckled.

Duke laughed back a little, putting the cash in his pocket. "Thank you. I… I mean it. I don't get a lot of opportunities these days. It's still kinda rough out there for preds in general. I'm sure you know." He looked down. It was real. She was real. He did a thing and got paid. He had a lucky break. It was about damned time.

"Before you go…" Her words drove an ice spike through Duke's heart. There was a condition. Of course there was going to be a condition. Damn you, Universe. He looked up fearfully. The kind older female's expression was still achingly pleasant and sweet as she asked, "Do you know how to paint?" He gazed back at her silently, wide-eyed, then to the shop and all the paint. After a bewildered pause from Duke, she hastily added, "I… I'll pay you of course. I could use the help! It's a big job." Duke sucked in a slow, wavering breath.

"Y…Yeah. Yeah! Sure, I paint! Like I said, I did fix-it stuff." He forced himself to calm down a little. He didn't want to seem weird. This was a completely unexpected opportunity. He had no intention of turning down paying, honest work. The lady fox smiled with genuine gratitude. Duke rubbed the back of his head, looking at the supplies. He might need to get some masking tape, and he definitely would have to find a pan. He began thinking ahead to doing the best job he could do. If she was happy with it, she might even have more work for him. This place needed all kinds of work.

The vixen slowly sighed and noted, "It's a little late in the afternoon to start straight away, I think. Would you be opposed to meeting me here at nine tomorrow morning so we can make a day of it? I certainly don't want to paint dressed like this, in any event. You won't be working all alone," she explained.

"What? Oh yeah! Of course. Sure, sure." Duke stammered. This was great. This was really great. He felt a twinge of regret again for how he felt about this fox when he first met her. He'd do his best to make it up to her. He then realized that he'd been pretty rude the whole time he'd been in her company, and decided to rectify it. He held out a small paw. "I look forward to it. It's very good to meet you… Mrs…?" he looked up, hoping to at least know what to call her.

"Vivienne. You can call me Viv."