Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine; I intend no harm, and make no profit.

Author's Notes: Lozenger8 requested exactly 500 words of Dief-centric fic. I got the word count right, at least!

When Inspector Duval told Renfield that he was being posted to Chicago, Renfield was surprised. Surely he could better serve Queen and Canada in, well, Canada? However, on further thought, he decided that he wasn't entirely displeased. Naturally there were Canadian citizens in a city like Chicago. And he had always wanted to visit the States...He stopped by the bookstore during his lunch hour and bought a travel guide.

* * *

Inspector Thatcher informed him that she wouldn't be at the Consulate when he arrived, as she had an official function to attend, so Renfield assured her that he would be glad to take a taxi from the airport. He was pleased at the prospect of having a woman for a superior officer; women certainly were just as capable as men, and were more nurturing, besides. He was rather looking forward to it.

* * *

He rapped on the doors when he arrived, but no one answered, so after a moment he poked his head in. No one answered when he called, either, but a large white dog trotted out from behind the stairs. Surely this wasn't the Constable that Inspector Thatcher had told him to expect? He was almost entirely sure that dogs couldn't be Constables, though there was a Canine Corps... In any case, the dog seemed friendly, so Renfield went and sat down to await the arrival of someone who could direct him to his quarters.

* * *

It turned out the dog could talk; Renfield had been in the middle of a story about his time in Kamloops when the dog had broken in to point out that wolverines couldn't possibly be the animals Renfield had seen, as they weren't nocturnal, and in any case he was a wolf, not a dog. Renfield was surprised; he'd never encountered a talking dog before, much less a talking wolf. On further reflection, though, he decided that such things must be possible; Sergeant FitzGibbons at the Depot always said you never knew what you'd encounter in police work. So Renfield nodded his thanks and finished his story, and in return the wolf told him about a bear he'd met once in Tsiigehtchic. Wolves, Renfield discovered, were remarkably good conversationalists.

* * *

When nobody had appeared by nine o'clock, Renfield began thinking about finding a hotel, but the wolf assured him that he could bed down in one of the back rooms and that someone named Benton would straighten it out with Inspector Thatcher in the morning. The first door he opened was an office; the second, he was glad to see, was a kitchen. There was an elderly gentleman in a fur hat in the kitchen, which startled him, but they had a nice chat, and he gave Renfield some useful advice about dealing with drunken moose. After a while, the wolf got impatient, so Renfield took his leave and tried a third room, which proved to be empty, invited the wolf in, and spread out his bedroll. On the whole, he decided, he rather liked Chicago.

(End)