Hello everyone! AkaneKitty here. New fic time! This is called "Drawing the Short Straw".

Inconsiderate friends place Razor and Lieutenant Felina Feral into interesting situations...

Author's note: Wow! A story that isn't about Feral and Callie? Yep!

This story came about because I wanted to stretch my wings with other characters from the SWAT Kat universe. This is the result. I also use new writing techniques and write something that I've never done before, which shows up in a later chapter.

This story (or at least pieces of it) was thought up before I wrote Katatonic. So I've been stewing about it for awhile.

Thanks to Ulyferal for being my beta, and for the encouragement.

I welcome any and all reviews, so let me have it.

Hope you all enjoy this. I had a blast writing it.

-AkaneKitty

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Drawing the Short Straw

Chapter 1: Inconsiderate Friends

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"You have a what?"

"A date. You know...something you should try sometime."

"Ha ha. Very funny." Jake Clawson snorted sarcastically as he looked up at his soon to be ex-friend, Chance Furlong, from the greasy engine block he was working on. "Who is she?"

"Pop's granddaughter. You've seen her before. The one with the huge..."

Jake held up a paw. "Spare me the details. When is the date?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight!" Jake's voice dripped with angry surprise.

Chance looked a bit sheepish as he watched Jake extract himself from the car's hood. "Well, this is her only night off since she helps out with Pop's Comic Stand all the time so I had to..."

Jake's glare made the tabby shut up. "Chance, this is our patrol night! You know I wanted to test out the new Cyclotron I've designed!"

"Yeah, well, you drew the short straw last week which gives me a night off." Chance shrugged. "I'm just cashing it in."

"Oh really?" Jake always felt that contest was rigged. But he had another pressing question. "So even with all this wonderful planning of yours, you somehow forgot to ask if she had a friend?"

Chance blinked. He was so focused on getting a date that he forgot about his buddy. "Well, I..."

"Forget it!" Seething, Jake slammed down the hood of the car. "I'm going to go get ready for patrol. You can finish these cars by yourself."

"Hey!" Chance called after him. "I have to get ready, too!"

"Just run your paws through your fur!" Jake tossed back over his shoulder. "That's all you do anyway!"

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Later that evening...

"Joey! Another beer, please."

Lieutenant Felina Feral slid an empty bottle away from herself as Joey, bartender for the night club called Anchovy, cracked open another bottle.

"Lieutenant! What happened to your friends?" Joey raised his voice to be heard over the pulsing music of the club. "I thought this was to be a Girls Night Out?"

"It was. But I got ditched." Felina waited until Joey placed a beer in front of her before continuing. "Cassie and Lynda found the loves of their lives again and split."

"...Didn't they find the loves of their lives last week, too?"

"Yep. Funny, isn't it?" Felina sighed. "I need better friends...or at least better drinking buddies."

Joey looked Felina over as she started on her beer. The Enforcer was dressed to kill in a short, black halter dress with a zipper front and stilettos. Heavy bracelets on both arms completed the look. "You could find the love of your life now, Lieutenant. You're certainly dressed for it."

Felina smiled at him. "Thanks, Joey. But this is a Girls Night Out. It's all about laughing over drinks, some mild flirting with Kats to get even more free drinks, and maybe getting a phone number or two to call afterward. It's not a trolling session, and I refuse to combine the two."

"Really."

"Besides, I'm due in court tomorrow. A hangover I can deal with if asked but a previously unknown Kat or she-kat discovered in my bed, well..."

"Hard to explain that one away, eh?"

"As archaic as it sounds, it calls my ethics and decisions into question. I refuse to hurt my status as an Enforcer or my Uncle like that."

"I see."

"And now, I have to do the bar hop all by myself. I really do need better drinking buddies." Felina drained her beer in one go and signaled to Joey. "Another shot for the road, Joey."

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The newly designed Cyclotron handled like a dream.

Dressed in blue and black racing leathers rather than his g-suit, Razor cruised the streets of downtown MegaKat City.

"The nerve of that kat!" Still seething, Razor barely patrolled the streets, using the time to work out his anger instead.

Throughout their friendship, Razor always tried to be a good wingkat. Asking dates if they had friends for his buddy, not trying to leave his friend in the lurch if something came up when he had a night off, and generally being a good pal.

But tonight...

Razor revved the throttle. He could understand it if this was a one time situation. Hell, it happened occasionally when you scored a great date. But this had been happening way too frequently (and on patrol nights) to be a coincidence. Where the hell was Chance finding these she-kats and why wasn't he invited?

Now here he was, on patrol, stuck testing out his new bike alone. "T-Bone is so going to pay for thi-" Razor began to grouse when...BZZT!

"Bzzt?" He blinked in startled surprise, jerking his attention down to his gauges.

His power levels were dropping off rapidly which meant the bike was going to stall out, leaving him stranded if he didn't figure out what the problem was. He needed a concealed place to hide and work on his bike, so quickly scanned his surroundings.

"Oh, great!"

He was in the middle of MegaKat City's bar district. According to his watch, last call was going to be in another hour or so, which meant the streets would soon be filled with toms and she-kats heading home. And since this was the middle of the week, those Kats would be off duty Enforcers. Crud!

If T-Bone were around, he'd just scoop him up into the TurboKat but he wasn't, so it was time for Plan B.

Looking around, Razor remembered there was a nearly concealed alley nearby. He could hide himself and his bike in there until he fixed his ride or until the Enforcers went home. He could still be discovered if someone got nosy or drunk, but it was a risk he was forced to take.

Power levels nearly depleted, Razor coasted his bike into the alley. It was barely in the shadows before the Cyclotron shuddered to a stop. Hopping off, Razor propped the bike against a wall and removed his helmet and leather jacket, revealing the top of the form fitting black and blue body suit underneath. Removing some tools from a pocket, he sat on the ground, starting work to remove a panel on his bike.

It was going to be a long night.