The sound of tapping accompanied the low beat of Nightwish’s ‘Bye Bye Beautiful’, followed by a sigh, almost drowned out by the sound of the pouring rain incessantly hitting the black SUV. There was another sigh, and Sicha leaned forward, staring out through the windshield, trying to make out any shape she could in the pouring rain.

One Alexander Gillows, wanted for drug trafficking, especially Sting 6. This drug was a constant ire to the FBI, and refused to be stamped out completely. As soon as one major dealer went down, another appeared to take his place.

Sicha’s ire with the drug in question was far greater, mainly because she had seen, and felt, what it could do.

Sicha was no ordinary FBI agent, by any means. First of all, she was an anthro. While that in itself wasn’t uncommon in the FBI nowadays, her species was: skunk. And, yes, Sicha did stink from time to time, though, in respect to her colleagues, she usually didn’t stink when coming to work.

Her features were also rather odd, her hair a fiery red, uncommon, to say the least, with most skunks having white hair. Her eyes were also the same fiery red color. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks, a blue blouse, and, over that, a bullet vest, lest they run into trouble.

But, back to the drug: The reason it aggravated her so much was what it did to furs. For normal humans, it was a strong hallucinogen, and, in most cases, caused a rather abnormal hate of furs. For furs, it built up rage, as well as poisoning them badly, a fate she had narrowly escaped after ingesting a Sting loaded kid.

Sicha turned her head as she heard the passenger side door open, and smiled as she saw her, now soaked, partner, protecting a bag of donuts under his coat.

Her partner’s name is Greg, and, though she’s sure he has a last name, she’s never bothered to ask. He’s about her height, if not a couple of inches shorter, with short brown hair, blue eyes, and an undeniable sweet tooth. He was also human, which led to amusing situations when Sicha was forced to deploy her ‘gas attack’.

Sicha rolled her eyes. “Do you realize how cliché you’re making us seem? I mean, come on. Donuts? On a stake out?”

Greg chuckled softly. “Fine, then. I got some for you, but I guess I’ll just have them all for myself.” His tone was teasing, yet serious.

Sicha quickly stopped, her ears lowering, and she adopted a humble countenance. “I’m sorry…”

Greg eyed her for a moment, quiet. Then, he pulled a donut out, handing it to Sicha, who graciously accepted it, beginning to nibble on it, with Greg soon doing the same. It was a good thirty minutes more of watching people rush by with, or without, umbrellas in the pouring rain.

Greg was actually dozing off when Sicha finally spotted him, nudging Greg awake and pointing out the target. “That’s him.”

Greg nodded, and the two moved out. Sicha was quickly soaked to the skin, fur and hair plastered down by the rain. Greg, with his coat, only fared a little better. Both followed Alexander, keeping a good distance back.

Alexander either didn’t know they were tagging him, easy enough to assume in the limited range of the rain, or didn’t care. Either way, he soon led the two to an apartment complex, going up the outside stairs and onto the second floor hallway, where they lost sight of him.

Sicha, the faster of the two, quickened her pace… and almost ran smack dab into a pair of goons that had slipped around the corner. But, rather than dodge, she picked up speed, and rushed the two of them, knocking all three of them down, as well as knocking the guns that the goons had been pulling out of their holsters away.

“Go! Get Alexander! I’ll deal with these creeps!” Sicha struggled, pinning one of the goons down.

Greg nodded, and, before the other goon could stop him, he rushed upstairs, leaving Sicha with the two. Now, usually, two goons would’ve been more than a match for her, even with her spray. But, Sicha was what they called an ‘Eraser’. Someone who could send someone to their gut, and keep them gone. And, the goon she had pinned found this out quite quickly as Sicha’s mouth opened wide… wider than should’ve been physically possible. Then, everything, already dark and wet, became pitch black, wet, and heated as his head disappeared into the skunkette’s maw.

The second goon could only watch in horror as, bit by bit, his partner disappeared into the smaller framed Sicha, her mouth greedily claiming his body as her property now, claws getting rid of annoying articles of clothes, though, half way through, she was forced to get rid of her bullet vest to accommodate her bulging gut. And, soon, with a slurp, the henchmen’s feet disappeared, and, with a resounding, final gulp, he was sentenced to her belly, which, trained by many previous meals, began to efficiently digest him.

She sauntered leisurely up to the stunned, second goon, patting her belly. “Heh… Who knew criminals could be so tasty. Oh. I think your friend wants to say hello.”

She was right up in his face at that point, and, as she finished speaking, she opened her mouth, letting a loud, long burp echo into his face, her warm breath blowing over it as well as the stench of digesting meat. “Mmm… Louder than I figured. Don’t worry, though, you’ll soon be joining him. “

The goon went wide-eyed, and stumbled back, but could only watch as the dark entrance of her maw fill his vision….

About half an hour later, Sicha and Greg were back in the SUV, though Greg was driving, with Sicha stroking the soft bulge still remaining in her gut.

Greg looked over for a moment, then back to the road. The rain had cleared up, though the clouds hadn’t. “You know… even though we got Alexander, it really makes a guy nervous, knowing that you fit two guys in there with ease.”

Sicha smirked as she looked over at him. “Don’t forget, you still owe me ‘dinner’.”

Greg shivered softly. “Trust me, I remember.”

Sicha grinned as she leaned back into her seat, looking out the window. “Well, I guess we can consider the Alexander Gillows case *urp* closed!”