FSE

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There was a lingering silence as Detective Clip seemed hesitant to reply to the demand, her only clarification thus far a disapproving glare to the checkpoint officer. Before he could repeat his request, the detective spoke. "No." The jackalope's gaze dropped down to the cold iron cuffs resting on the table, "No, I will not be putting on any kind of magelock cuffs while I'm here."

~ "It's not a choice; it's the law, Ma'am.", the disinterested possum replied. He held them up as an offer to Detective Clip, who was in turn holding forth her badge. She could feel the chilling ache of the iron even at this distance, let alone how uncomfortable such things would feel to be worn even if she'd no desire to use the magic they thwarted.

~ "I'm not putting those things on.", her tone flat as she waited to see if her badge would curry any favors or exemptions from the local requirement. "I'm not some wild beast in need of a muzzle."

~ "No exceptions, not for cops or anyone.", the possum's apathy remained unmoved. "You put these on, or you can't leave the terminal."

~ Detective Clip let out an audible groan, turning to pick up her bag and stride back into the terminal. "I'm calling my boss, to see if he can fix this."

~ From her impromptu office, having retreated further into the terminal, Detective Clip raised her supervisor via phone.

~ "No, those things aren't 'no big deal'; they're disrespectful and burn to the touch. I though that they'd gotten rid of those things decades ago.", her ears pinning down at his reply.

~ "They're the ones who asked for me to come out here and figure out how that stuff is getting through their customs; you sure they won't budge on being jerks for magical folk?"

~ "And why can't I just go home now, then?"

~ "Ugh. Fine, whatever. I can bill them hours just fine from inside this terminal; just tell my replacement to not dawdle, okay?"

~ After two days of carefully reviewing the same manifests, the weekly calendar, and the selection of magazines, Detective Clip decided it was time to opt for a holiday. She slipped into the duty free shop, waving to the clerk with a now familiar gesture.

~ "I decided today's a holiday. I'm sober, and this place blows.", looking to the unsurprised cashier, "No offense.", the ferret behind the register grinned. "So I thought I'd get me a bottle of.. wait..", the jackalope's attention sweeping up and down and across the shelves of cheap liquor. "Where's the vapor-fizz? You know, that stuff that catches fire, once you open the bottle?"

~ The ferret nodded agreeably, "No one ever buys it; so there's no market for it around here. Until a few years back, was illegal." His grin turned a bit more sly. "So everyone's family came up with a recipe for it. Now, even that it's legal, everyone still makes their family recipe for it." He slouched back onto his stool. "My family's tend to explode if you shake it too much."

~ As the jackalope made her way up to the register with a packaged sandwich and small bottle of consolation beer the ferret leaned forward, "I don't much shake it, myself."

~ The detective's tired gaze rose to meet the playful ferret's tone, and she managed a meager smile. A moment later, her expression blanked while her ears perked to entirely vertical.

~ "Oh. You just gave me some wonderful lunch reading, thank you."

~ With her sandwich consumed and working her way through the second bottle of beer, Detective Clip found the entries she recalled from the shipping manifests over the past month. Each week arrived a pallet declared as volatile cargo to merit special handling by particular unloading team, which she verified to be just enough folks trained for the one crew: casks of vapor-fizz.

~ She let her eyes rest, and the data pad collect a bit of dust before she called her supervisor.

~ "Hey boss... Yeah; a bit of cabin fever but otherwise fine... Oh, I'm not leaving the terminal to do the legwork, but I want to put down some notes for whoever you've got on their way to replace me...