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The plan is perfect. Simple, elegant, and practically foolproof.
Step 1/4 of Nick’s Brilliant Marriage Plan© : Get Judy drunk.
“Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!” she mumbles, swaying gently outside their apartment door. “Are you going to let me in?” The alcohol’s given her words a melodic ebb and flow, like she’s about to start singing.
Nick, ever the guiltless angel, smiles widely in the doorframe. From the way she’s barely keeping her balance, it looks like Clawhauser has done his part. All it took was an extra box of donuts to keep him quiet. “Of course, Officer Hopps. Right this way, let’s get you to bed. How was the bar?”
She stumbles drunkenly into the apartment, giving him a dopily wide smile. “ It was the BEST! I don’t know what I was worried about. Cl awhauser’s sooooooo niiiiice, Niiiiiiiick.” Giggling incomprehensibly to herself, she almost trips over the gift he’s laid out. A disproportionately large gasp escapes her when she sees them.
“Didju get me new pajajamas?” she asks, delighted.
Step 2/4 of Nick’s Brilliant Amazing Marriage Plan ©: Have Judy change out of her normal clothes.
Nodding innocently, Nick gestures for her to put them on. “They’re cotton and silk. Very soft, I bet. You should change.” His tail sways nervously behind him.
It takes her a good minute or so, but she manages to slip into the purple pajamas, ignoring the fact that Nick is present. She’d stopped being embarrassed about her near-nudity a few months back.
“Soooooooooooft,” she mutters to herself, finally approaching their bed. “G’night, Nick,” she manages before falling face-first into the pillow, already snoring.
Out like a light. Perfect.
Step 3/4 of Nick’s Brilliant Amazing Daring Marriage Plan ©: Swipe the ring.
Quietly, and trying his absolute hardest not to wake the now-sleeping Judy, he sneaks over to where her jeans lay. Rummaging in the pockets reveals his prize: a tiny black box, just big enough to fit in his palm.
His smile widens so far it starts to ache. The sly bunny thought she could sweep him off his feet tomorrow at their date, but little did she know he’d found the ring’s receipt in their recycling bin. Wouldn’t it be funny, the sizable portion of his brain permanently devoted to mischief had whispered, if you proposed to HER, instead?
Noiselessly, he does a victory fist-pump. Everything has finally fallen into place. With an appropriately theatrical flourish, he carefully slides the box into the pocket of his ZPD uniform, hung neatly on a nearby rack.
It’s the last place she’d ever think to look.
Struggling to contain a full-blown set of giddy giggles, the triumphant fox changes into his own set of matching green pajamas. He’d bought them both a pair for this occasion, but all she’d see them as was a pleasant gift, no strings attached. For now.
Nick let his eyes roam fondly over Judy’s sleeping form as he approached the bed, choosing to sit on the edge for a moment. A few years ago, if somebody had told him that he’d be head-over-heels in love with a bunny cop, he’d gleefully have them labelled as the easiest hustling target in Zootopia. Practically a walking ATM.
But here he is. Slipping into a comfy bed with the love of his life, smiling so broadly and happily that his muzzle hurts. He wraps an arm around her, snuggling in for the night as his tail thrashes ecstatically beneath the blankets.
Sleep will be a long time coming.
It’s the light shining through the window that wakes Judy.
Not that ‘waking’ and ‘getting up’ refer to the same concept anymore. Ever since moving in with Nick, springing up and out of bed to face the day isn’t as much of a priority. It’s probably something to do with the fact that Nick’s fur is so irresistibly soft.
That, or the pounding hangover. Dear God, how much did she drink last night? She groans, and by the way the blankets start to rustle she can tell it’s woken Nick too.
“Morning, Carrots,” he says, drowsiness and excitement blurring his words. For Nick, being enthusiastic at this hour is practically inconceivable, but her hangover prevents the alarm bells from sounding.
“G’morning,” she mutters blearily. Why did everything have to be so bright? Drowning all the light by burrowing her face into Nick’s side is clearly the only countermeasure.
“Want me to go get you some water?”
A dilemma, this early in the morning. Of course. Precious, life-giving water or warm, comfy fox?
“...Water, please,” she finally mumbles, shifting to be face-down in the bed. It’s not nearly as fluffy.
Nick slowly unhinges his arms from around the rabbit before springing to his feet, tail wagging, heading to the kitchen.
After a good minute or so, she can’t tell if the hangover’s getting worse or better in this cold, snuggle-less agony she’s found herself. Her headache oscillates between “why did somebody plant explosives in my head” and “a neighbor is shredding bass one room over,” never settling on one particular throb. It’s unbearable.
“Sorry it took me so long!” Nick finally says, slipping back into the room with a guilty smile. “Wanted to find you the headache medicine.”
“You’re an angel, Nick,” she says into the pillow, turning to peek one eye at him.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he mutters, smothering a giggle before clearing his throat. Carefully, and making sure she doesn’t spill it, he brings the water to her mouth and lets her drink. He gives her the headache tablet when she’s halfway through the glass.
At last, her headache begins to clear. It isn’t immediate, but it’s at the very least bearable. She motions for Nick to come back to the bed.
He gasps theatrically. “Is that Judy Hopps choosing to stay in bed on a weekend? And here I thought I would have to be the irresponsible one today.”
Normally, she’d fire back with a quip, but the alcohol gives her a much easier choice: groan pathetically until he complies.
It doesn’t take long. Happily, Nick slides back into the bed and wraps his arms around her, letting out a small chuckle as her face plants right back into his chest.
“You know, we do need to get up for our date later today,” he whispers gently.
She grunts. It’s more ‘begrudging acknowledgment that he said something’ than agreement, but thinking about the future hurts right now and cuddling Nick does not. Even with her processing skills shot to hell, she can make that much of a decision.
“Later,” she repeats, stumbling over the word like she’s trying to speak for the first time. Slowly, methodically, and not without a little bit of pain, everything in her brain shifts back into place.
“Alright, alright,” he says, amused, softly running his paws through her ears. “I bet you still haven’t figured out where I’m taking you, by the way.”
Ha! Clawhauser had blabbed it to her last week. She smiles into his fur, trying very hard to keep her voice level. “The gondolas in the Rainforest District?” she guesses, knowing full well where they’re actually going.
“Mmm. Good guess, but no,” he says lazily, drawing featherlight shapes with his claws into the fur of her back. “You’re gonna be surprised when you find out, I bet.”
As if . Sure, she’d been surprised when Clawhauser had let it slip, but that was nothing compared to the ace up her sleeve: the engagement ring. Her smile widens just thinking about it; she’s finally going to get the drop on Nick Wilde! The day is finally here!
Nick cranes his head over her to glance at the clock, dropping back to the pillow with a soft whumph. “We have a few hours before we have to get up for real,” he says through a drawn-out yawn. “Still plan on being lazy? ‘Cause if so, I wholeheartedly approve.”
She’s already halfway back to sleep. Murmuring something vaguely resembling a plea for more rest, she nestles tighter into his side, warm and happy. He plants a kiss between the ‘V’ of her ears, and to Judy all is well with the world.
For now.
It’s later, as she’s trying out her new dress in front of their apartment’s mirror, that the giddy realization that today’s the day finally sinks in. Maybe it’s something to do with the hangover passing or her sleepiness (mostly) vanishing, but the excitement has finally managed to get its foot in.
She barely resists the urge to laugh, overcome with bubbling happiness. The dress looks wonderful on her -- it’s a soft strawberry-cream color, trimmed with red, snugly fit but not too constraining -- and she’s certain Nick is going to love it. Love her .
Everything’s going to be perfect.
Turning away from the mirror and absentmindedly strolling into their bedroom, she can almost imagine the look on his face when she proposes. It’ll be priceless: a mix of genuine shock, pure euphoria, and mild annoyance. She figures he had planned to propose within about three months or so, given what Clawhauser had been telling her, and so getting the jump on him before he can even begin to plan it will make the reversal so much sweeter.
All that’s left to grab is the ring. The memories of last night are mostly obscured by a haze of alcohol, but she distinctly remembers showing Clawhauser the box before slipping it back into her pocket. Picking up the discarded jeans from the bedroom’s floor, she rifles through both pockets.
No ring.
She laughs nervously. No problem! Obviously, she’d put it somewhere safe before falling asleep, because Judy Hopps is a capital R Responsible adult who wouldn’t lose something this important.
Her first thought is that it’s somewhere by the bed; maybe she fumbled it when changing. That makes sense, right?
After a good few minutes of searching, she comes up empty. Panic sets in, accentuated by the growing sound of Nick whistling in another room. Casually, and with his tail wagging lazily behind him, he saunters in and spies the jeans flung desperately against the bed, prompting him to smother a guilty smile.
“Something wrong, Fluff?” he asks easily.
“Nope!” she answers, far too quickly. He pretends not to notice the pure panic arcing between her ears, choosing instead to pull her into a hug.
“You sure? It seems like you’re looking for something.”
“Nah,” she says brazenly, “All good. Just gotta grab… some water. Before we head out. ‘Cause I’m thirsty.”
“You came to get water from the bedroom?” he asks, amused.
She mumbles something between an ‘mhm’ and a ‘yes,’ pulling away from the hug. Placating him with a kiss on the nose, she spins around and dashes into their kitchen, calling back to Nick as her mind races for other possibilities.
“Just head on out! I’ll be right behind you!”
Nick calls back an affirmative, giving her one last chance to find the ring. Okay. Retracing her steps has always helped her in the past. When did she last see it?
The bar.
It all clicks. “Clawhauser…” she mumbles dizzily. The most likely explanation is that she’d shown it to Clawhauser and then lost it at the bar. She swears under her breath -- the ring could be anywhere by now, but getting in touch with the cheetah is probably her best bet.
“Caaaaaarrots!” Nick shouts from their apartment’s hall, just barely loud enough for her now-drooping ears to pick up.
She swears again, louder. Dread nestles into the pit of her stomach; her plans are completely shot. Today isn’t the day, apparently, and unless she can find the ring soon the idea of reversing his proposal is completely off the table.
“Coming!” she shouts back, defeated.
He almost -- almost -- tells her. Seeing her come out of their apartment so miserable tugs at his heart, but he barely convinces himself that it’s going to be worth it.
Biting back a remark about whether she’s forgetting anything, Nick holds out his paw, pulling her into another hug.
“Want me to carry you?” he says. It’s the least he can do, honestly.
Nick swears he can hear her eyes rolling, but she gives a tiny nod after a moment or two. For added effect, he spins her around before huddling her against his chest.
Bridal-style. She winces, visibly, and it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to burst out into knowing laughter.
“ Krrchh, ” he starts, imitating a microphone crackle as he makes his way towards the elevator, arms still full of bunny. “This is Nick Wilde, your captain, speaking. We have achieved takeoff, and we’re currently cruising at around two or three feet in altitude. Please be sure to keep your phone off and…
He twirls into the empty elevator, giving her a cheesy wink for emphasis. “Enjoy the ride,” he finishes, having watched her smile grow with every step.
“You goof,” she mutters affectionately.
“ Your goof,” he fires back, kissing her on the head as they start to descend.
The Palm Hotel has never stopped surprising Nick.
Other parts of the city have; the Rainforest District’s novelty has been worn down to a stump of what it used to be over the course of his thirty-odd years living in Zootopia. But the Palm? The Palm is always beautiful, no matter how many times he sees it.
“You have a reservation here ?” Judy says, flabbergasted. Almost immediately, understanding floods her face and a knowing smirk follows. “It’s because you ‘know a guy,’ isn’t it?”
“Maaaaaaaaaybe,” he says mischievously, holding out an arm for her to grab. Smiling, she takes it.
“Uh-huh. Don’t think I’m letting you wriggle out of this one, Wilde. I know all about your ‘criminal’ dealings,” she accuses playfully, leaning into his side.
Nick puts a paw to his chest, feigning hurt. “Madam, I can assure you that this fox has turned over a new leaf. No more hustles,” he says guiltlessly. Laughter tries to fizz up from his chest, but he barely manages to smother it with a cough.
“Likely story. I think I’m gonna have to take you in,” she says, nodding towards the hotel’s enormous lobby.
Theatrically, and with as much overacting as he can possibly pour on, Nick sighs, raising the paw from his chest to his forehead. “If I must.”
Dragging him by the paw, Judy rolls her eyes as the automatic doors open. They’re at least ten times her height and far, far heavier. She feels rich just looking at them. “Trust me, you must. C’mon!”
They meander over to the Palm Cafe, with Judy ‘ooooing’ and ‘aaaaing’ enthusiastically at just about every fancy thing she sees. There’s a certain drag on her step that makes him think that perhaps he should hurry this whole joke along so she can start fully enjoying herself again.
And so they can be fiancees. He tries very hard not to think about that part, because it makes him want to burst into a fit of nervous giggles and Judy would probably call an ambulance.
“The Palm Cafe,” Nick reads off the neon sign as they approach, attempting to distract himself. “Clever.”
Sometimes he wonders if she’ll ever stop rolling her eyes at the goofily cynical attitude he likes to put up. Other times, he remembers what his jokes are like.
“Oh, shush. At least it’s clear,” she says, pushing a little further into his side for emphasis.
“Why not just call it ‘cafe’ then?” he retorts. “No need to put their name over everything.”
“Like how you wanted to open an amusement park called ‘Wilde Times?’”
“That’s different,” he says smugly, guiding her to a table. “Branding kind of thing. Probably too complex of a concept for a bunny,” he teases.
Childishly, she blows a raspberry at him as he laughs.
“Remind me,” she starts innocently, starting to feel the misery at losing the ring wash away with the idle banter. “Which one of us drives us to the coffee place in the morning?”
“I’ll be good!” Nick says quickly, internally chuckling as he lazily flits through the menu. “Mind if I get the fish, Carrots?”
Her nose playfully scrunches up in a way he doesn’t dare describe as ‘cute’. Really. It’s not, he says to himself. Not even a little.
“As long as you brush your teeth before we kiss again.”
“Mmm. Maybe I won’t, then.”
“Good plan.”
It’s such casual, tit-for-tat banter Nick could almost call it normal, but there’s a lingering undercurrent of tension that’s eating away at the both of them in a hundred subtle ways. Her foot twitches, barely resisting hammering the floor with anxiousness. Nick’s tail fluffs out behind him like it’s been struck by lightning.
Fortunately, the waiter arrives to take their orders before the awkwardness sets like concrete. Both of them breathe an inaudible sigh of relief as orders are taken, and after less than a minute of stilted banter later their drinks arrive. Judy stares at Nick’s beverage like she’s plotting its murder.
“You okay, Carrots?” he asks amusedly, taking a sip. It’s strong alcohol; he has a feeling he’s going to need it if he’s going to make it through this.
“Yup,” she says robotically. “Still a bit hungover from… yesterday.” She looks glumly down into her own drink, plain water, and Nick has a feeling he knows why. How had he ever thought this was a good idea!?
Maybe a few subtle nudges away from the rapidly-developing trainwreck this date had become will help. With a soothing smile, he reaches gently across the table to boop her nose. It twitches once in recognition, and she looks up at him with half-fake irritation.
“Hey,” he says gently. “I love you.”
Her expression softens into something Nick doesn’t feel as guilty about. Reaching over the table, she squeezes his paw affectionately, donning a paper-thin smile. “I love you too!”
As they share a moment of simple affection, Nick catches their food arriving in the corner of his eye. Even if it ruins the moment, he wasn’t going to complain about speeding this… whatever his plan had morphed into along. With a slightly over-the-top amount of decorum, the waiter sets their plates in front of them, wishing them a happy meal. Nick restrains a nervous “you too,” before it can sputter its way out of his mouth.
They eat near-noiselessly -- Judy picks aimlessly at her salad as Nick takes tiny bites from his equally fancy and unpronounceable dish. Both offer the occasional warm smile or reassuring glance, but without banter they finish quickly. Without conversation, Nick can’t tell if three or thirty minutes pass.
With a guilty, nervous lump in his throat the size of a baseball, Nick finally finishes, prompting Judy to push her plate aside. She can’t eat right now.
“You done?” he asks softly. “If so, I nabbed us a pass up to the observation deck. We can see the whole city from up there.”
“Not hungry,” she mumbles, hopping out of her seat and taking Nick’s paw. Her eyes are glued to the ground as the remorseful fox leads her towards the nearby elevator.
The ride up is dismally quiet, host to a chilly silence. Nick fidgets with his claws, internally cursing himself for ever having thought of this plan -- she was going to propose! Why mess with that?! -- as Judy mentally kicks herself for losing the ring.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, they reach the top. The doors open to a smooth, windowed expanse that gives a full view of the entire city, softly cloaked in the orange-grey sunset. Tiny lights dot the buildings erratically, like fireflies, evidence of the hustle and bustle of mammals all across the city.
It’s beautiful, they both think.
Without a word, they make their way to the edge, leaning casually on the railing. Judy’s gloom is almost tangible, depressing Nick enough that he finally decides it’s time.
Step 4/4 of Nick’s Trainwreck of a Marriage Plan © : Propose.
“Hey Judy,” he says quietly. Empty of energy, she glances over to him sadly, nodding once in recognition. “Wanna hear a joke?”
“Sure,” she says miserably. He really, really doesn’t want to drag it out any further, but this last bit will make it hopefully a bit funnier. It’s already memorable, but not quite the way he wanted it to be.
“What do you call it when an ex-criminal proposes?” he says quietly.
Her face… changes. Nick isn’t quite sure how to describe it -- almost like she's downed a cup of thumbtacks, or she’s been tazed twenty times and her face is going into epileptic shock. Mentally, he takes a snapshot of the expression, forever saving in his memory vault. It’s priceless, despite the cost.
He kneels, bringing out the box and letting her see the pilfered ring. With as big of a guilty grin as he can manage, he gives her a cheesy wink. Maybe if he’s lucky she’ll let him live.
“A fell-on-knee,” he finishes quietly.
To his mild surprise, her face doesn’t change. She just… stares at him. Silence shrouds the room like an elephant’s weighted blanket, and the air feels thick enough to chew. Not a word escapes her mouth. Nick doesn’t move, dearly hoping this can still be salvaged.
Finally, two words breach the air, each spoken like the fall of a guillotine.
“NICHOLAS. WILDE,” she snarls gutturally. It’s such a small distance, but the two steps she takes toward him feel like the final lines of his eulogy. Goodbye, Nicholas Wilde. You will be missed.
“Yes?” he answers meekly.
She pulls his tie down so they’re eye to eye, letting the unfettered fury in her stance wash over him. “I’m going to get you back for this,” she starts, pure poison in her eyes. “You won’t know when, or how, but you will know why , fox. I will make sure you have the most humiliating day in mammalian history, and even then I’m going to make it worse.”
He can’t resist. Even on the precipice of losing everything, Nick Wilde has to have the last laugh.
“Is that a yes?” he answers smugly, intent on mentally kicking himself until his brain vows to never speak again.
She pulls him in for a hard, loving, delightfully angry kiss.