Hello Everyone,

This isn't something I would typically do, but I have been kicking myself because I forgot to include this little excerpt in one of the earlier chapters. It is, as its title would suggest, a bit of a lost chapter. I have a habit of writing things out by hand when it isn't acceptable to have a computer or is otherwise inconvenient. Hence, some of the framework for my story ends up on paper so I need to remember to type it up at a later date when it becomes relevant to what I am working on.

In my haste to finish this story, I forgot to include this. Ideally it would fit nicely between chapters 34 and 35. I must apologize again for adding to a completed story, but in order for this thing to feel truly complete I need to post this. So, I give you the lost chapter, or in this case, the one I forgot about because it got lost in the depths of my journal.

"Is he going easy on us?" Fiona had to ask before nonchalantly shoving a plump beaver into a holding cell.

It sickened the vixen that she could so easily ignore their pleas for help and looks of despair. These were her kin after all, but she treated them like animals.

"I can tell you he isn't going easy on me," the shackled Mobian found the breath to quip.

Jake ignored the helpless creature before slamming the door shut, leaving the beaver to a blinding solitude.

"What do you mean, boss?"

"I mean look what happened to Echo," Fiona answered as they walked down the long white hallways. Their day was done and she yearned to be free.

Her partner stayed quiet for a moment, occasionally glancing at her, afraid to utter words one way or the other. Echo had made mistakes, but perhaps not deserving of the punishment they received. No one, including Jake, wanted to talk about it.

"We were there too, and we didn't catch him," the velvet red fox added on.

"But we didn't mess up like they did," Jake countered after he swiped his access card next to the door.

A fresh breeze of rotten city air greeted them as they stepped out into Dominion HQ's garage. Jake waved casually at the guards, retreating to the expanse of the city where stray words would be less costly.

"Then think about all the other times where we did," she pleaded. "Julian yells, maybe slams a fist, but we walk out of his office like nothing happened. He's all bark and not bite with us. Why?"

"Go ask him yourself if you're that curious," Jake exclaimed while pointing a finger back at the door, "but I for one, enjoy being alive and would rather be getting a drink."

"It doesn't bother you then?" Fiona asked as she sped up to match his quickened pace.

Her partner was uncomfortable talking about what he actually believed unless he had a drink or five first.

"I've never put much thought into it," his retort came gruffly before stepping out to cross the road.

"Don't you wonder what's so special about us?" Fiona called after him. "Why we're getting a whole squad to command even after everything that happened in Coastaries?"

He was on a mission to get the Iron Soldier, and her new battery of questions only seemed to speed him up. When Jake finally reached the door, he stopped and turned to her, "How many Mobians have you and I caught between the two of us in the last year alone?"

The number surfaced in her head entirely too fast, three hundred and twenty seven, but she knew better than to blurt it out. Instead she stayed quiet and followed him to their usual spot at the end of the bar where she hopped onto the high-top stool.

"I don't know," she lied, "I lost count."

This bartender knew his best customers well; ice cold drinks appeared as the vixen bit her lower lip in frustration.

"And so did I. We might not be able to catch Miles, but we can still manage to put away his other woodland friends at a rate that far exceeds anyone else's. In fewer words; we're not useless, boss. Where else is Julian going to find someone who is as good as we are?"

She tried to hide it, but the wagging of her tail and subtle reddening of her cheeks gave it away. Jake was never quick with a compliment, and even if it was about both of them, it was enough to make her blush. However, what they were good at was not something she was proud of.

"Oh geez," he exclaimed, "don't go all mushy on me now, I haven't even taken a sip of my drink."

Fiona sighed as she raised a cool glass of lager to her mouth, "Well let's face it, I don't exactly get a pat on the back very often, so I'll take what ever I can get."

Jake had a habit of taking statements like that to heart and promptly gave her pat so hard she nearly coughed up her beer.

"Better?" he inquired sarcastically.

"Hardly," she groaned through a teeth-bearing growl. "This isn't what I wanted to be good at, Jake."

"And what would you have preferred? I don't exactly see you as the motherly type. A doctor perhaps?" he joked.

She let out an uneasy chuckle, "So this is what you chose then? This is what you would do with your life if you could do anything you wanted?"

Her partner paused, "Anything?"

Fiona nodded, curious about the answer he may give in sincerity.

Jake eyed his rum filled glass, swirling the golden liquid between the ice cubes, "No one seems to do it right," he mused. "I bet I could do it better."

"What?" the vixen almost burst out laughing, "drink? Or make rum? Because I might be able to believe the first one, but the second…"

"The rum," Jake replied defensively. "And I'll take an island while were at it, perhaps something in the Jaded Sea. They're the ones famous for this stuff right?"

"I'll give you credit, you know how to dream," Fiona said as she clinked her glass against his. "I thought for sure you would want this city for yourself. I mean didn't you say we're city rats?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "After what these clowns have done to Capital City, I am not sure who else would want it. In a perfect world no one would choose to live in this filth. In this world I don't have a choice, but that's what dreams are for aren't they?" Jake asked rhetorically before upending the remainder of his drink.

Fiona followed suit, agreeing with her partner for a change. How different the world would be if it followed the whims of our dreams.

"What about you?" the man stammered before waving down the bar tender.

"What about me?"

"Don't be duck'n out of your own question now, boss. What would you do?"

That was an easy question, I would be with Miles.

"That island sounds pretty good."

In truth it did, but it still wasn't what she really wanted.

"No," Jake roared, "you're not just going to copy me! If you weren't wearing that silly collar, if you could do anything, what would it be?"

"I'd settle for a life," the vixen replied in a defeated tone. "Maybe deciding for myself what I can do, where I can go, or who I can love instead of having some fat piece of shit dictate it for me."

"There's a fox you miss, isn't there?" he asked, having learned to read through her non-answers.

"Don't be ridiculous," she tried to play it off.

"It must be difficult," Jake allowed before taking a sip of his new drink. "I couldn't imagine having to capture and kill one of my own just to try and stay alive."

It was Fiona's turn to stare down at her glass, hoping that her murky reflection might have something to say. Jake was right, but she couldn't bring herself to respond. The vixen had never come to grips with what she had to do to survive, it was easier to ignore it.

"Don't sweat it boss," he said after seeing her downtrodden. "Everyone has their demons."

A grin made its way across her face, "yes, I recall you have some of your own."

"To you and me," Jake suggested leaning his glass in her direction, "and our last night alone."

Fiona had almost forgotten it was their last day operating unaccompanied by a smattering of Kintobor's mindless soldiers. Tomorrow, Kintobor would give them command eight additional men as part of his effort to combat the Resistance.

She happily clinked her glass against his, "to you and me, stuck in lives that are a long fall from our lofty dreams."