Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Settle down, settle down, shut your mouths!" Chief Bogo shouted, slamming his clipboard on the podium. His grimace deepened. "That means trunks as well, Francine," he growled at the back of the room. The elephant huffed and rolled her eyes, but curled up her trunk and fell quiet.

"As you know," his voice boomed through the bullpen, "things have been quiet around here. The crime rate," he paused with a hint of pride, "is at a record low. But!" he narrowed his eyes at his officers. "That does not mean we can fall asleep on the job!" Clawhauser shrunk into his chair. Only a few weeks ago, he'd fallen into a donut-induced coma behind the front desk in the middle of the working day, prompting officer Wilde to make what he referred to as "artistic improvements" to the cheetah's face with a laundry marker. Bogo chewed the receptionist out every time they crossed paths that week (laundry marker, turns out, does not wash out of fur easily), although most of the force was pretty sure that Bogo secretly found it hilarious.

Bogo's gaze dropped to his notes, briefly skimming from line to line before looking up. "Officers McHorn, Wafford, Trunkabee…" Nick tuned out as the chief rattled names off, his mind wandering off to witty remarks he could toss at his coworkers. Joanne, look who finally made it into work! I was half convinced you'd gone into hibernation. Looking a little droopy there, officer Wolfy. Full moon last night?

Some members of the force thought Nick's side comments were endearing. Some found them infuriating, and let him know. He knew he should probably let up, but what's a fox to do? Even after leaving behind his criminal past, slick and sly were still Nick Wilde's calling cards, not to mention sarcasm. After only a month with the police, he'd come up with nicknames for every single one of his coworkers, and only partially because he'd forgotten half of their real names. Most of them were quintessentially Nick: Officer Chompers, the SWAT commando lion, Fearsome Franklin, the meek rodent down in records by the boiler…

Carrots. He chuckled to himself.

Judy was, as always, in the front row, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed atop a stack of academy textbooks so she could see over the table. He couldn't see her face, so he wasn't sure whether she was trying to put on her stoic 'serious police business' expression or if she'd cracked into that overeager, hopelessly infectious Judy grin. A smile tugged on the corner of his mouth just at the thought of it. He couldn't help it. Cheese and crackers, Wilde. Smiling at the thought of police work. I've gone softer than a freshly conditioned chihuahua. If Finnick was here, he'd probably break my legs, and snap off my…

"Nick!" Judy's harsh whisper jerked Nick out of his thoughts, only to realize they were the only two officers left in the room. Save for Bogo, who was staring at him and breathing extremely loudly through his nose.

Bogo crossed his arms. "Are we listening, officer Wilde?"

Nick sat up, straightening his aviators and going deadpan. "Roger that, chief. I'm all ears." He smirked. "Well, I mean, not all ears. That's sort of officer Hopps' thing." He wasn't looking but he could practically feel the weight of Judy's big violet eyes rolling. "Let's go. Hit me. What's the 411."

Bogo regarded the fox for a long second before shaking his head in disapproval but continuing. "The 411, officer Wilde, is a case of seal smuggling in the Tundratown district."

Judy's hand shot up. "What are they smuggling?"

"Er," Bogo paused, donning his glasses and squinting at his notes. "Bootleg CDs." Who still listens to CDs? Nick wondered. "Anyway! I want you and Hopps down there this afternoon. We have a contact who claims to have some information on the perps. He's agreed to a meet tomorrow at Arendale Plaza. It's the only lead we've got, so don't bungle it." With that, Bogo turned on his hooves and strode out the door.

Judy spun around, leaning over the back of her chair. "Finally!" Her ears quivered with excitement, and her paws were balled up into tight fists. "We haven't been assigned together since the Flash case!" she exploded. "First I got stuck with Wafford and Sampson, and they were alright, but then McRoary, you know, it's always 'my way or the highway' with him, I mean just because he's an apex predator you know he thinks he's all that but not uh, the greatest smelling mammal in the savannah, that one," she finished out of the corner of her mouth. Her eyes sparkled. "This is gonna be great!" Just like old times!"

"That's right, Carrots." Nick purred behind a smooth smile and reflective lenses. "We're gettin' the band back together." Nick wasn't one to wear his emotions on his sleeve like certain bunnies, but he had to admit to himself he was pretty thrilled too. Outside of work, the pair spent every other day together doing this and that: watching this film and that one at the Zootropolis cinema; catching reruns of Pretty Little Ligers on a tiny TV in Judy's apartment; lying in the park under the shade of a sprawling sycamore on a golden afternoon, Judy chattering about something and Nick content to let her do so and only occasionally nod off. Stuff like that.

But professionally, the two led pretty separate lives. Judy was a proven veteran and, despite her protesting, more or less the public face of the force. This meant that she found herself behind a gaggle of microphones answering questions with more questions ("Do I enjoy doing this? No, Bogo. No, I do not. Do I think you should stick your head in a bucket of ice? Why yes, yes I do.") more often than she liked. Nick, on the other hand, was still relatively novice, although the chief did grudgingly recognize that his background and skills were a valuable asset. At times.

The two ambled out of the bullpen into the atrium, bantering easily. "Carrots, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a perfectly capable driver."

"Nick, you leveled half of vole village!"

"That was one time!"

As they walked towards the lobby exit, Nick's ears twitched and picked up the sound of stifled giggles coming from the welcome desk. He glanced over to see what new app was tickling Clawhauser. To his surprise, the cheetah's phone was nowhere to be seen. Odd. Nick ran through a mental checklist: no fresh batch of donuts, no Gazelle single dropped last night (Judy would already have played it for him a hundred times), and Nick certainly hadn't picked up any whispers of Clawhauser lining up any hot dates. No, strangely enough, Clawhauser was staring straight at… him. And Judy. And laughing into a paw.

Whah? Nick was momentarily flustered. Is there a 'kick me' sign on my back or something? His claws scraped around on his back but didn't reveal anything other than a need to wash that particular shirt. He patted down the fur on his head. No cowlick or anything… what's the big deal?

Judy looked him up and down, bewildered by his frenzied activity. "Uh… what's the big deal?" She giggled. "See, Nick, it's the perp you're supposed to pat down, not yourself."

Nick let out an exasperated breath, half at the situation and half at Judy's awful attempt at a jab. "Comic gold, Carrots." He sauntered over to reception and laid his arms on the counter. "Hey, big Ben! Mind letting me in on the joke?" He leaned in, glancing around in mock suspicion. "I promise I won't tell anyone," he whispered. A peek downwards revealed the workstation of a consummate professional; the keyboard was barely visible underneath a sea of sprinkles and a syrupy film of old cola. Nick had no idea how the computer could possibly still work. It probably didn't.

"Oh Nick!" Clawhauser bubbled. "No jokes, no jokes. I'm just real happy is all." He lowered his voice to a conspiratory whisper. "It does this ol' heart of mine a heaping pile of good to see you two on a case together."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Yeah… you always get this jazzed up about a couple pals cracking a case together?"

Clawhauser just tilted back in his chair with a cherubic grin. "Oh, of course Nick. Just a couple of friends." With another fit of giggles, he returned to his computer, pretending unconvincingly to be busy, each keystroke noisily crunching a clump of sprinkles.

Nick looked at Clawhauser, then at the keyboard, then back at Clawhauser, then shrugged. Well, nobody ever accused Clawhauser of being the straightest spine on the hedgehog, Nick mused as he turned and strolled back to Judy, who was waiting by the exit. She shot him a quizzical look. "What was that about?"

Nick walked through the door without breaking stride, but paused to hold it open for his partner. "Beats me, Carrots. Beats me."

"Oh, just look at those two," Clawhauser gushed to himself as soon as the door swept shut behind them, fishing into his drawers for his phone and cueing up the latest Catty Perry track. He put his feet up on the counter. "So adorable. Still putting up an act, like it's not already in plain sight."

A/N: Big thank-you to TheRealMcbasilrocks for his feedback and help as a beta, to Disney for bringing us these characters, and to YOU for checking out the story! I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

Chapter Text

And so the pair found themselves on the edge of Arendale Plaza, shivering in an alleyway between the Blubber Chef and the Chill Out lounge as the rest of Tundratown passed them by. Well, one of them was shivering more than the other.

Judy could literally hear Nick's teeth chattering. This was probably for two reasons: Judy's big ears and Nick's big teeth. The fox looked miserable, rubbing his arms furiously to keep  warm. "Jeez louis, Nick. Do you even own a jacket?" She'd warned him to bundle up before they left, but he nevertheless showed up in the same old green Hawaiian shirt. Undercover, he'd said when she asked. Nobody will suspect a thing.

Now their contact was over an hour late.

"I don't know if you knew this, Carrots," Nick said, glaring at her. "But this fur coat isn't exactly as thick as it was a few generations ago." He actually reached up and buttoned his top button. Judy hadn't even realized the shirt had one. "Somewhere along the ancestral line the Wildes decided they were going to stick around in the city center where it's actually warm and pleasant, and I couldn't possibly be more proud of that particular bit of heritage."

Judy frowned as shivers sent a ripple through Nick's tawny fur. "Take mine then!" she chirped, quickly shedding a thick, if tiny, ZPD-crested jacket. "I'm one one-hundred-and-twenty-eighth arctic hare," she declared with pride. "Cold ain't no thing for a hardy mammal like me."

"Oh you've gotta be kid-" but Judy had already hopped up and draped the jacket around Nick's shoulders like a blanket. Nick started to protest, but his words were swept away when a gust of icy wind snaked through the alleyway. Shivering again, he grudgingly pulled the jacket tighter. "I guess I'll hang onto it for you," he conceded.

"You're wel-come!" she sang, turning back to survey the plaza. "Nick! Here he comes!" Judy pointed to a shifting patch of snow a few feet away. Moments later, a mole burrowed his way out of the ground and turned to face the officers. A naked mole. A naked mole rat. Ehhhh… not the prettiest creatures, she thought to herself, keeping a straight face. He was completely hairless except for a mess of whiskers, with tiny raisin-like eyes and leathery pink skin that bunched up into folds at the slightest provocation. He was, without a doubt, an ugly creature. But even ugly creatures need protecting and serving! "I'm officer Hopps, and this is officer Wilde," she said, gesturing at her partner. "Thank you for meeting with us."

His whiskers twitched. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." he said in a gravely voice. "Guy you're looking for goes by Dom. Runs the whole racket out of the basement of the Inuit-N'-Out veggie burger joint across town." He drew a small diagram in the snow at his feet. "In the back door, through the basement, there's a fake wall. Just needs a good push and it'll give. Dom's probably in there. But there's a million ways outta that room, so you better take him by surprise or he'll be gone before you can even get close."

"Pfff, yeah, I'm sure." Judy scoffed.

"What?"

"Yeah, out of the water, in some basement? That sounds graceful."

"What?"

"He's a seal, have you ever seen one on dry land?"

"What? No!" He shook his head. "Don't tell you bought that bull. Nah, he's a naked mole rat like me."

"Nice, I really needed more naked mole rats in my life," Nick muttered under his breath.

Judy kicked him in the shin, but the contact kept on talking. "That's how he moves the goods around without anyone seeing him, by tunneling. Dom just came up with that seal story to throw ZPD for a loop, same way he spread that CD crap. He's careful. Don't get to be one of the biggest catnip dealers in Tundratown by being reckless."

"Catnip?" Judy gasped, a cloud of breath escaping her mouth. "Catnip is a controlled substance! A class-2 feline narcotic!" Her eyes narrowed. This lowlife isn't just selling CDs, he's peddling drugs to kittens on the street! "Right," she said, driving a fist into her palm. "Thank you for your bravery, sir. We'll make sure this Dom is brought to justice."

The contact looked like he could care less. "Yeah, yeah, I could care less. So uh… about that tip money?"

Nick tutted. "In it for all the right reasons, huh buddy? I hear you, loud and clear." He fished into his shirt pocket and picked out a crisp roll of bills. He wagged it at the mole. "Now don't go spending it all in one place, all right?"

The mole snatched it out of his hands. "Nice jacket. That come with a skirt and a tiara?"

Nick blanched. "Shut up." He fished for a comeback. "No need to be jealous. Gotta be cold without any fur."

The mole turned around and shuffled back to his hole. "Nah, I ain't a lil' girl." With that, he dived in headfirst, leaving nothing but the diagram in the snow and a few paw prints to show he'd ever been there.

"What a jerk." Judy said, peering into the hole and crossing her arms. "I mean," she chuckled, "I'm the girl, and I'm not cold at all."

—

Inuit-N'-Out was near the bayside, about half-hour from Arendale plaza. Nick and Judy had ditched their cruiser at the city limit; cars weren't permitted in the heart of Tundratown for fear of plunging through the ice patches that hid underneath the snow. Not to be deterred, the endlessly inventive architects and engineers of the borough came up with the Freeflowing Unidirectional Road-Replacement. F-U-R-R was a sprawling partially-artificial river carved into a lazy loop through Tundratown, dotted with floating chunks of ice and permafrost. Combined with the perpetual forward flow of the river, these makeshift platforms became the fastest (and potentially coldest) way to get around.

Nick and Judy hopped one after another onto a single ice block a few feet in length and width. As they bobbed along, Judy's mind drifted back to her time in the academy and all the times she'd tumbled into the frigid water while training for Tundratown's frigid climate. Her chest puffed up a little bit just thinking about it. Those were proud, bright memories; she'd tumbled down that frozen wall a hundred times, but she'd fought her way back up a hundred and one.

I wonder what Nick was like in the academy. She'd talked to him occasionally while he was in training, of course, but cadets didn't exactly have the downtime for long chats. She imagined the instructor bellowing "Dead!" at Nick, and Nick checking his pulse and putting on a shocked expression. "No, I… I think I'm getting a pulse, doctor! I think I'm alive!" She giggled.

"Somethin' funny, Carrots?" Nick asked.

Judy shot him a friendly glance. "Just thinking about what you must have been like in the academy."

Nick sighed. "Fabulously intellectual. Physically flawless. Devastatingly popular. Just a tremendously graceful and accomplished cadet."

"Oh, I can only imagine," Judy smirked, resting her hands on her hips. "You know, I think I'm going to have to go back and read the files on you."

"Oh, please do!" Nick patted her on the head, between her big ears. "Learn from the master."

Judy was about to reply when she caught a group of buildings out of the corner of her eye to their left. "Hey, this is it! This is our stop!"

Nick frowned. "Yeah, good eyes, but how are we gonna get there?" The pair had drifted into the middle of the F-U-R-R and the riverbank was a good five-or-so feet away.

"We're gonna have to jump it," Judy decided.

The fox winced. "Great plan for one of us!"

"Oh, c'mon, you'll be fine." She elbowed him in the chest. "You're physically flawless, remember?" She eyed the gap and grinned at her partner. "You can make that."

"Hmm, let me do some quick mental math here, Carrots," Nick said, pretending to count on his paws. "Fast moving ice block plus freezing water plus fox legs and NOT bunny legs," he said, kicking out a leg, "equals fox-sicle." He paused. "Wow, how did I never think of that when I was selling pawpsicles? Fox-Sicle. I could ha—woooaaahh," he yowled as Judy shoved him to the lip of the platform. Teetering on the edge, he had no choice but to leap for the other side. He cleared it… barely, landing in a heap on the snowy ground. He rose to his feet, dusting the snow off his shirt and glaring at his parter. "Not cool, Carrots."

Judy tensed her legs and hopped easily to the shore, touching down with a graceful poof. She reached up and brushed a patch of powder off Nick's muzzle, flashing him a toothy smile. "Hey, no harm no foul, you tremendously graceful fox, you."

It was a short walk from there to the bustling Inuit-N'-Out. The restaurant was a small standalone on a generous plot of land near the bay, and mammals of every shape and size were jockeying for position, bellying up to an outdoor counter to place their order. Not exactly the ideal place for a raid, Judy thought. She looked up at the sky. Hues of magenta and violet reflected and refracted through the snow and ice as the sun neared the end of its lazy arc across the sky; it was probably about seven o'clock.

Nick glanced at his watch "Quarter to seven," he noted. "How long you wanna wait?"

"Not sure." Judy shifted her weight from leg to leg. "I think this place closes up at eight… it'd be nice not to have all these civilians underfoot."

Nick nodded. "Well… in that case," he reasoned, cracking his knuckles and sauntering towards the throng. "Hey, woah, official police business here," he hollered, flashing his badge and carving through the crowd. "Yup, excuse me, pardon me, coming through… Wow, quite the operation you've got here," he breezed once he reached the counter. "Officer Wilde, ZPD." He tapped his badge. "I'm here for a surprise inspection. You know, we can't ever be too careful when it comes to the health of our citizens. I'm going to need…" he hummed as he looked up and down the menu. "Two of those Green Goddess burgers and an order of fries." He bit his lip. "Large fries. Definitely large fries."

Judy watched from beyond the crowd, her face scrunched up in disapproval. Nick, that is so not allowed! I get that you think it's funny, but it's not. When you put that badge on, it's to serve and protect, not to get special treatment! It wasn't taking Judy long to compose the speech; she'd given it to him before.

Nick could hear the poofpoofpoofpoofpoof as soon as he emerged from throng with his prize. He ambled towards the source and grinned at the bunny as she tapped her foot in the snow at an incredible clip. "Really, Nick?"

He took a bite of one of the burgers and his eyes rolled back in his head in pure delight. "Oh yesh, ab-sholutely really," he replied through a mouthful of food.

Impossibly, Judy tapped her foot even faster. "Nick, I get that you think…"

Nick cut her off mid-sentence. "Got one for you." He swallowed a bite and held the other burger to her face. "Can't lecture on an empty stomach."

The smell almost floored Judy. That. Smells. Delicious. Her stomach growled at her. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and she was just realizing how ravenous she was. Must… resist… Nick sensed weakness and dangled it even closer to her nose. One more whiff and Judy caved. Oh, cheese and crackers… She glanced at the thick crowd. Well, it's not like I'm going fight through everyone to give it back… She snatched from his hand and took a giant bite. "No commentsh," she muttered, but Nick's expression said everything anyway.

—

"That's the last of them," Judy whispered as they watched the outline of final employee vanish into the night. "Let's move." The pair treaded swiftly across the white earth, their footsteps muffled. With the sun gone, it was even colder than before. In a few moments, the pair reached the rear entrance, a sheetmetal door with a rusted handle. Judy jiggled it. No luck. "Locked," she muttered.

Nick cracked his knuckles and blew into his hands. "Step aside, Carrots, and see how it's done. If I may…" he reached over and unclipped Judy's badge, fitting the needle through the grooves in the lock. "Just a… little wiggle here and a push in all right spots aaaand…" Click. The door popped open. "Voila."

Judy leapt in delight, punching Nick on the shoulder. "Nicholas Wilde, you never cease to amaze me," she glowed. She eased the door open, flinching as the corroded hinges creaked and whined. She peeked back at Nick, who put a finger to his lips and nodded. Judy flicked on her flashlight, and they descended, tip-toe by tip-toe, into the basement. The landing was dimly lit by a single bare lightbulb that revealed a small landing and a musty, frail looking wall.

In fact, the entire landing wasn't just musty; it was caked in dust and detritus, Judy realized a second too late. Her tiny nose twitched and danced as she felt a sneeze come on. Oh no. She turned to Nick in silent horror. His eyes widened in confusion, then realization. "Oh, Carrots don't you dare," he hissed as she waved her hands and held her nose in vain.

"Ahh, chhphhh." Judy's sneeze rocked right back through her as Nick leapt towards her and snapped her mouth shut. He held it shut for another long moment as they stared at each other in shock. Slowly, Nick removed his hands. Judy blushed for a second, but couldn't place why. Probably because I almost blew a case because of these stupid allergies. "Thanks," she breathed.

Nick nodded, motioning to the wall behind her. Judy nodded sharply, ears straight up at attention and fur standing on end. She held out three fingers on a paw. Two. One…

The pair burst through the fake wall into a room that seemed even larger than the restaurant sitting above it but significantly less inviting. A series of dull green lanterns along the ceiling cast a sickly sheen over the room. Discarded magazines and half-eaten food seemed to cover every surface, and unlabeled crates lined the walls save for a small tunnel at the rear. In the center, a naked mole rat was seated at a short desk, haphazardly tossing packets into a container. His beady eyes flashed as the two barged in.

"This is the ZPD!" Judy yelled, holding out her badge. "You're under arrest, Dom! Don't even think about running." She took a step forward, and Dom was off like a shot towards the back of the room.

"I think he thought about it!" Nick shouted, racing after him. "You block that exit tunnel, I'll pin him down!" Judy nodded and sprinted towards the back. The naked mole rat might have had a head start, but she was built for speed. Judy reached the back first and spun around to snag Dom, but he cut right, barreling towards a tight gap between two crates. The contact's voice echoed in her head. 'There's a million ways out of there.'

"Nick! He's got another tunnel!"

Nick pivoted and broke into a full sprint, hot on Dom's tail. Judy groaned as she watched Dom disappeared into the inky darkness between the crates; maybe she could have squeezed through, but Nick had no chance, and he knew it. "Oh, no, you, do, NOT!" Nick snarled, shoving his body and face up against the crates and reaching his arm in as far as he could. His claws found purchase and he snatched a handful of something. "Oh god," Nick sputtered, "He's so greasy!"

Judy raced over. "Did you get him?"

Nick slowly removed his arm, revealing a squirming and yowling Dom on the other end. He held the rodent by the up by the bunched-up folds around its neck. "Yeah," he panted, proud despite himself. "I got him alright."

Judy caught her breath and that trademark smile lit up her face. "Pretty smooth moves, slick!" She laughed, holding up a paw. "Guess we still make a pretty good team, huh?"

Nick high-fived her. "The best."

—

The partners led Dom back up the stairs, his two front and two back legs cuffed together tightly. As they reached the top and waited for backup, Nick suddenly patted down his shirt and pant pockets. "Yikes. Lost my aviators in the tussle." He wagged a finger at Dom. "See what you almost made me do?" Nick shook his head as he disappeared back down the stairs.

Meanwhile, Dom was seething. "Biggest operation in Tundratown, run tighter than a tiger's teeth, and I get my door busted in by some dingy fox and an overachieving bunny. You got any idea what kind of kinda dough I was rollin', hoppy? Any idea what kinda paper I was printer', what kinda scrilla I was scrapin'?"

Judy raised an eyebrow smugly. "Guess you never heard what they say, huh?" She leaned towards the naked mole rat. "Crime never pays."

Dom ground his teeth. "Yeah yeah, save the stupid speech for your husband over there. Or whatever."

Judy blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's what supposed to mean?" Nick said, appearing next to her with his aviators.

Judy paused, then shrugged. "Nothing." She shot Dom a dirty look. "Just a lousy criminal trying to get the last word in." Internally, though, it nagged Judy. Bogo's comment.

She flashed back to earlier that week, when she'd asked Bogo, explicitly, to put Nick on a case with her. 'I don't get why you're keeping us separated!' she protested. 'I mean, if memory serves, we basically saved city the city. And we cracked the Flash case in no time! Clearly we make good partners.' Bogo barely even looked up from his paperwork. 'No.' Judy pressed him. 'No why?!' Bogo took off his glasses and finally looked up at her.

'Because you're one of my best cops. I need your mind on the job. Not elsewhere.'

At the time, she just assumed he was coming up with more excuses. And she'd been overjoyed when Bogo had finally assigned them together. I'm sure Bogo didn't mean to imply anything.

…Am I sure?

Well… they say part of being a cop is being a good detective, Judy thought. And detectives don't believe in coincidences.

She stole a glimpse at Nick. I wonder if he's picked up on anything…?

Chapter Text

With Zootopia in glowing health, its economy teeming and crime at an all-time low, it was pretty difficult to stumble on a rough area.

Pawchester, however, was still one such area.

Pawchester had, at best, a checkered reputation. Far enough from the city center to be out of the way but not quite far enough to necessitate its own police precinct, it attracted all sorts of Zootopia's shadier characters. You want to make a few moving violations disappear? You visit that one lawyer with the crooked tie and gnarly fur in Pawchester. You want to score the latest Lion Neeson flick on DVD the day after it comes out in theaters? Scope the corners in Pawchester. Maybe you need somebody scared a little; they've got the predator muscle for that in Pawchester. It was the sort of place where you park your car, and when you get back an hour later, all that's left is the chassis, and that's only because they ran out of time. Some of the nastier rumors even suggested that the Nighthowler incident had somehow originated in Pawchester, although the residents vehemently denied it.

This was exactly the sort of place Nick Wilde used to hang out, and exactly the sort of place Finnick still did. Right in the building Nick was standing in front of, actually.

The fact was, Nick had overheard Dom's comment the day before. And that bothered him plenty. It was easy to shake off Clawhauser pairing him and Judy off in his head; that was just Clawhauser being his sappy self. And sure, he occasionally caught some flak from other officers about his close relationship with Judy, but that's just boys being boys. But what was up with Dom? He was as far removed from them as anyone could be. And… it wasn't like he really said it as an insult. Nick noted. He said it like it was… Just some kinda fact of life. How'd he come up with that?

But the fact that Judy tried to sweep it under the rug… that was what really played with his head. C'mon, Wilde. This is like spending an hour deciphering a 'Hey' text… it's not like she was trying to cover anything up, she just thought it was a stupid comment. Right? And it's not like I care. I mean, of course I care, she's my best friend, but this is… weird, uncharted territory and I don't thi—

He was jarred from his thoughts by a series of locks clicking open in rapid succession and the door bursting open. "Nicky freakin' Wilde!" Finnick boomed, making absolutely no attempt to embrace the fox. "My favorite fuzz-ball. What's wrong—you lose a bet to the squad or something'?" His eyes narrowed and he looked around shiftily, one hand reaching for something just inside the door frame. "Ay, this ain't no bust or nuthin', huh? I know you wouldn't do me like that, right?"

"Please, Finnick," Nick scoffed, "what could an upstanding citizen like yourself possibly have to hide from the good people at the ZPD?" He leaned on the doorframe. "Miss a tax payment on that orphanage you run? Or was it a parking ticket from bringing flowers to those puppies in the hospital?"

Finnick groaned. "Yeah, and here I thought you was some kinda real cop these days."

Nick walked past Finnick into a greasy, hot apartment. Through a tight hallway, he entered a living room and sank into a plush chair, folding one leg over the other. Narrow rays of light wormed through the closed blinds, illuminating dust on whatever surface they landed on. "Please. This is Nicholas P. Wilde we're talking about. We uh, go back a little ways, if memory serves?"

The door slammed shut and Finnick briefly disappeared into the kitchen. Nick heard a refrigerator open and close, and Finnick returned with two beer cans, throwing one to Nick. "Yeah, yeah, I think I remember bailin' your orange butt outta a couple schoolyard brawls back in the day." Finnick dropped onto the couch, opening his beer with a pop and taking a swig. He chuckled. "Yeah… we had some wild times huh, Nicky."

Nick cracked his own beer and raised it in Finnick's direction. "I'll drink to that."

"So." The fennec fox leaned forward. "You ain't here just to catch up with an ol' partner in crime. And… you ain't here to uh, let old habits die hard…" Finnick let that dangle in the room for a second with just a hint of hopefulness before continuing. "So what's the deal, Nicky?"

Nick's smile faded. "Right. The deal. Yes," Nick winced, rubbing a hand on his neck and looking at the ceiling. For some reason, he suddenly became fascinated by the decor. Mhm, so I like the wall color… grey, very inspired. Very sparse on the artwork. Sparing. Less is more. Okay, c'mon. Get it together. He took a sip of beer.

Finnick raised an eyebrow. "Jesus Nicky, what's got you so worked up? You knock up that bunny or somethin'? What?"

Nick sprayed a mouthful of beer all over the carpet. "What! No, that's not—I would never—if that's even possible—" Nick sputtered. He took a deep breath. "No, Finnick, I did not put one in the oven."

Finnick was doubled over, cracking up. Nick waited for him to finish.

"But, uh," Nick started. "It is kind of related." He paused. "Not really sure how to put this, and I think you already answered, but… have you heard any, uh, rumors about me and Judy?"

Finnick took another swig of beer. "Man, watchu' talkin' about?"

"I mean, have you heard any rumors about me and Judy?"

Finnick looked confused.

Nick ground his teeth. "Fine, I'll spell it out. Have you heard a rumor that we're... a package?"

Finnick looked even more confused. "Uh…" Finnick racked his brain. "are you not?"

Nick's pointed an accusatory finger at Finnick. "Yes! That! That right there!" He kneaded his forehead. "Where is that coming from?"

"Uh, lemme see," Finnick pretended to think. "You come back all heartbroken to me mopin' about this bunny. Next thing I know, the same bunny's pounding on the door of my van, freakin' out about finding you. You save the city together. You, Nick, get all sappy and join the force all of a sudden. You graduate and before anyone can blink you two are on a case together chasin' that Need-for-Speed-ass sloth down main street." He held out his arms. "I mean, I ain't a detective, but I can read clues if you shove my face in 'em and rub it around. What would you think?"

Nick's ears flattened against his head. Finnick made good points. He'd landed solid body punches. But his next sentence was the knockout.

"I mean, add onto that the fact that everybody and their brother's got you guys pegged as some kinda celebrity couple…"

Nick's eyes exploded to dinner-plate proportions. "What?!" He searched for something to say, and instead had to settle for draining the rest of his beer. "No," he finally insisted. "We're not a couple. We're just friends." His fur was rippling as though waves of electricity were passing over it.

"I mean, I guess people just assumed then, man. You two are practically joined at the hip, right?" Finnick paused, looking him up and down. "Or your-hip-to-her-neck, tiny little thing she is." He finished his beer and crushed the can in his paw. "For someone who says you guys are just friends, though, you sure are buggin' out."

Nick exhaled forcefully. "I know! I know." He rubbed his forehead. "Geez. Come on, Finnick. You know me. You know I'm not good with this," he gestured at nothing in particular, "…stuff."

Finnick snickered. "Really? Damn, hadn't picked up on it." He got up, walked over to Nick, and punched him on the shoulder. "Lighten up, Nicky. It's not like it's a big deal."

Well, it kind of feels like of a big deal, Nick thought, still regaining his composure. How have I been this oblivious? How long has everyone thought this was going on?

Does Judy know?

—

Judy flopped down backwards onto her bed, arms and legs splayed out. "Aaaaaah!" she yelled at the ceiling in frustration. The ceiling didn't offer anything in response, but her neighbors did.

"Hey, pipe down over there!"

"Hey, shut up man, she's a cop you know!"

"Hey, it's called the first amendment, read a book dude!"

"I just read a book!"

"Oh yeah, what book!"

"It's called, 'I'm Stupid!' By you!"

"Oh yeah! Well I just read your featured article in Stupid Weekly! Five Stars!"

"Oh yeah, well I just—"

Although it seemed impossible, their conversation devolved from there.

Judy tuned out their muffled voices. Officers usually got a little downtime after cracking a case, but Bogo had called on her to host a press conference about the Dom bust, and practically all of her day afterwards had been consumed by recording a new series of anti-drug PSAs aimed at Zootopia's youth. And when you're at a party, and somebody offers you catnip, remember, Judy's face shined confidently, looming on the television screens downtown, cool cats don't do drugs.

Maybe on another day, Judy would have found it exciting—it was her first time in a commercial, and it meant her role as the face of the ZPD was taking on a whole new dimension—but it couldn't have come at a worse time. She'd meant to take the day peeking around, asking a few pointed questions and trying to understand if Dom's comment and Bogo's comment together represented something bigger or just an odd coincidence. Now it was already past dark, her lonely desk lamp casting soft light over her meager apartment.

Her paw wandered across her sheets until it grasped a tennis ball. She was idly throwing it up to herself, turning things over in her head, when her phone buzzed loudly on her pillow. She reached up and grabbed it. Incoming Muzzletime from Mom and Dad. She couldn't help but smile at their caller ID pose: Stu grimacing and leaning into the camera as he tried to understand how Muzzletime worked, Bonnie's amused expression hovered in the background. They were just a pair of old country bunnies after all; technology took some fiddling.

Judy pulled herself up from the bed, propped the phone up against a few books on her desk and tapped accept. The screen flashed a loading signal, then faded to black. "Oh, is that, mmm, I'm not sure if… maybe try that one?" Bonnie's voice searched through the dark. Some things never change, Judy chuckled to herself.

"Darn it all, Bon, I swear I just had it, and, oh! There we go!" Bonnie and Stu Hopps' faces suddenly filled the screen. "Jude the dude! My favorite law-enforcing daughter!"

Judy rolled her eyes, but she radiated affection. "Mmm, because you've got so many daughters in law enforcement, dad."

Stu laughed earnestly. "See, that's the joke!"

Bonnie's face slid up to the foreground, occupying most of the screen. "How are you, Judy? We saw you on TV today!"

Judy could hear Stu in the background, "My own daughter, on Sunday night TV! Why, I would have never in a million…"

She gave as hearty a nod as she could muster. "Yes! Yep, that was me alright."

Bonnie's face dropped. "Judy, don't try to fool your mother. Your ears are droopy." She leaned in close to the camera, her amethyst eyes just a shade softer than Judy's. "I know you don't like all this attention."

"No! I mean, the commercial, the conferences... they're fine and all." Judy leaned her cheek on a paw and shrugged. "I guess they just get in the way from time to time." She drummed her fingers on the desk for a moment. "But hey! Enough about me." She sat up and leaned into the camera. "How is everything! How's Hazel? I just heard the big news!"

Stu fought his way back into the frame, glowing with pride. "Oh, she's happier than a silverback at uncle Darren's banana farm! And I couldn't be a happier father. You remember Peter, right? From school?"

Judy giggled into a paw. "Of course. Who doesn't remember Peter." She sighed fondly. "That's one handsome bunny."

"Well, he couldn't be better for our Hazel." Stu piped. "Fantastic career, that boy as well. Darn near the best actuary in the tri-burrows! I think your play really had an effect on him back in the day, Jude! We've even been talking to him about our estate, and he's had some darn insightful things to say about carrot valuation. He says that in just a few years, we'll all be on the keratin standard, and with the Southern burrows' "Burrexit" from the farming union, things are really—"

Bon cut him off. "Oh Stu, don't bore Judy with agro-insurance. So…" her voice trailed off. "Hazel's a little younger than you, you know."

Judy nodded absentmindedly, her attention still a little frayed from her father's farming-finance tangent.

"So… any cute boy bunnies in your life, Judy?"

Judy gave a short laugh. "C'mon mom, you know me. I don't exactly have time to run around meeting boys; I've got a city to take care of." She motioned to her badge on the corner of the desk. "And I mean, it's not like Zootopia's exactly hopping with bunnies. You know as well as I do that we kinda stick to the countryside."

Bonnie and Stu were briefly quiet, exchanging a look. "Well…" Bonnie started, "I mean, you know, we're your parents and all. You can tell us anything."

Judy gave a brief smile. "That's sweet, Mom. I know. Thanks."

Bonnie and Stu were at it again with those looks. "Uh… well…" Stu stalled. "I mean, if there was some, uh, fox at work that was a gentleman and uh, ahem, was a stand-up fella, and…"

Her ears jolted to the ceiling. "A fox?"

"Now, Jude—" Stu was jawing off, but Judy interrupted.

"Why would you, I mean… You mean Nick?"

"Well, I sure don't mean Gideon Grey, if you catch my drift…"

"Stu! Really?"

"Dad! Come on," she defended. "You guys know Nick and I are just friends." She felt her exasperation mounting. "I mean, did I say something that suggested that?"

Bonnie looked like she was almost ready to abandon the subject, but then she pressed on, raising an upturned paw. "Well, Judy, sometimes an awful lot of little 'somethings' can end up as one big 'something'."

Judy hesitated, caught off-guard. "Little 'somethings'?"

Bonnie clucked. "Judy, you talk about him every time we call. You know, we only get what you tell us but from here, it seems like you two spend an awful lot of time together. And it's not a bad thing!" she emphasized, eyebrows arching in concern. "But… a mother picks up on these things."

"It's her job!" Stu added.

Judy's ears dropped down a peg. Do I… do I really talk about him that much?

"And you know, Jude, folks gossip! Ever since the whole to-do a month ago, when you two had your picture on every newspaper for miles, there's been chatter. Really, when we heard you two were spending so much time together we assumed it was just a—" Stu was about to say something when Judy saw Bonnie clamp down on his forearm out of the corner of the screen.

You mean people are just making assumptions out of thin air! Judy bristled at that. Bonnie caught it. "You know Jude, I'm sorry." she retreated. "I really shouldn't have brought it up. You've had a long day, and we're not helping." She smiled. "Don't worry about it. We'll let you go. We love you."

They stayed on the line until Judy exhaled, the tension lifting from her shoulders. "It's fine. Love you guys too. Talk soon." As soon as the line cut, Judy rose from the desk, remained standing for a moment, then teetered and fell back onto her sheets.

Everyone thinks Nick and I are seeing each other. Like that. Internally, she had to admit that it was the only logical conclusion to the sleuthing she'd meant to do. In fact, she wasn't completely sure why she'd avoided thinking about it on those terms for the last twenty-four hours. Judy was a girl in school once. She knew exactly what it was like to have rumors like these fly around, and exactly how to deal with them. So why should it be any different now?

Well, because Nick's my best friend. Of course I get uncomfortable when people start making assumptions about us. She glanced out the window. The streetlights winked at her through the darkness and shed light on the few Zootopians who were getting back from work even later than her. She sighed and rolled off her bed, rooting around in her tiny pantry for dinner. Judy wasn't really one to puzzle too hard over emotions, after all. She felt how she felt, and then she did what she thought she should do.

That was how Judy Hopps had always been.

Chapter Text

The clock read 6:15, and Nick had barely been awake five minutes. He was still in his boxers, eyes half-lidded, slouching in front of an stained porcelain sink. A toothbrush dangled from his mouth. His feet were angrily informing him that his ceramic bathroom floor had chilled overnight, and the mirror reminded him that he hadn't groomed himself in… ahh, let's not go down that road, he winced. Meanwhile, the paint peeling in the corners of the bathroom apprised him of the state of his apartment ('quaint, charming, a fixer-upper'), and the darkness outside the window assured him it was certainly not a civil hour for a fox to be awake.

All in all, par for the course. After all, it was a Monday.

Nick was able to watch his own expression as the realization set in.

It's Monday!

Nick tended to come down with, as Judy would say, a rather chronic case of the Mondays. So Judy, of course, took it on herself to diagnose and prescribe treatment for her best friend: new episodes of 'Paw and Order: Special Vixen Unit'. Every Monday night. Her place. Popcorn, cheesy snacks, and very, very little personal space in that cramped apartment. Which was never a problem, because they were friends. And it's still not a problem, Nick reminded himself.

Nick. Get a hold of yourself. He groaned, gripping the sink and staring into his reflection. Why am I letting this freak me out? It's not like he didn't want to go over to Judy's. Of course he did. He was just… uncomfortable. Nick was many things, but 'in touch with his emotions', well, that one was still a work in progress. 'Opening up to others' wasn't going great either, and 'talking about his feelings' was…. pretty much a non-starter, Nick admitted to himself. C'mon Nick. Just go to her apartment, bring it up, if she hasn't noticed anything, we laugh about it and move on. And if she does? He turned around, flicking the light off as he left the bathroom. Then we laugh about it anyway, and move on anyway.

He forced his thoughts elsewhere, but the heavy feeling in his gut was there to stay.

—

Her alarm clock had barely finished its first ring when Judy's paw darted out and slapped it. Her eyes shot open and glanced at the glowing red digits. 5:30. She whipped off her covers and shed the t-shirt and shorts that served as her pajamas, wrapping herself in a bath towel and padding briskly out the door towards the end of the hallway.

She gave two quick knocks on an old wooden door, listened for a moment, then entered the bathroom. Even for a bunny, it was cramped, and even for Grand Pangolin Arms, it was in rough shape. She climbed into the suspiciously off-white shower, pulled the curtain, and twisted the knobs. As soon as water reached her fur she yelped and scampered to the edge of the cubicle, clawing at the knobs. Coldcoldcoldcoldcold! A few shivering moments later, she found the sweet spot and breathed a sigh of relief. Aaah… that's more like it.

She emerged from the steam-filled room a few minutes later, her fur damp but fresh-smelling, and her spirits chipper as ever. "Good morning!" she said to Mr. De Soto, the mouse that lived opposite her. He was up almost as early as she was most days; he owned a dental practice in Little Rodentia and liked to get there extra early to make sure his instruments were clean and organized.

He gave her a nod in response. The two had quietly bonded over their early mornings over time, and Judy had even recruited him to help Nick with a particularly bad toothache once. It wasn't many mice that would consent to work inside the mouth of a fox, so Judy appreciated his help, and Nick grew quite fond of the Dr. De Soto as well after he noted Nick's poor gum health could be, in part, helped by consuming more blueberries ("A wonderful berry, rich in flavonoids and other essential nutrients!").

A few steps later, she was back in her room and slipping inside the ZPD uniform. As she fastened her chest protector, she gave her apartment a once-over. Yowsers. I'm going to need to tidy up before Nick comes over! A glimpse at the clock: 5:55. Oh, double yowsers! I'm running late!

—

Nick entered the lobby to find it curiously empty. Even Clawhauser was absent, an unfamiliar and markedly unfriendly lynx in his seat at the front desk. Nick approached her. "Hey, uh, where is everyone? Did I miss the memo?"

She looked up at him, her features dripping with disdain. "Mayor's up Bogo's tail about the police report backlog. Everyone's on the third floor, catching up on their administrative duties." She returned to the computer. "In other words, you missed the memo."

Nick smirked at her, even though she wasn't looking. "Boy, you're great at this desk job stuff," he said, turning to walk towards the elevator. "A real people person!" He pushed the button for the third floor. It dinged and the doors parted a moment later. "Hey, if things don't work out, I think you've got a future as a crotchety librarian!" he managed to finish just as the doors squeezed shut.

The doors opened onto a scene of barely-controlled chaos. Almost every officer on the force was crammed into a maze of roughly fox-chest-high cubicles. Everyone seemed to be trying to corroborate their reports with everyone else, and requests for confirmation flew through the air like spitballs.

"Hey, the missing sardines case, that was you, right, Wolford?"

"No, that was Trunkabee! I was in Rio!"

"Oh, yeah, Trunkabee, that was an otter who was the key witness, right?"

"C'mon, man, that was a sea lion. We've been over this."

"Gah, I can never tell those marine mammals apart. They all look the same."

"Jeez McRoary, it's 2016! You can't say that kind of thing!"

Nick's desk was in the back corner with the other newbies. His route, however, took him right past most of the veterans, Judy included. He felt the pit in his stomach grow as he approached, and tried as hard as he could to pay it no mind. He leaned over her cubicle, resting his arms on the ledge. She was utterly oblivious, her twitching nose buried in a stack of papers. He leaned over a little further, and announced "Morning!" directly into one of her ears.

She jumped in her chair. "Nick!" she exclaimed, her chest heaving. "Come on! Don't do that!"

Nick feigned innocence. "Oh, my fault, Carrots. Completely unintentional." He gestured to her paperwork. "But in your defense, I'm sure this is fascinating." He reached down and plucked the form she was working on from the desk. "Mmm. Form A1C: Formal Written Declaration of Replaceable Damaged Property Committed by (a) felines or (b) non-hedgehog marsupials weighing less than 200kg (440lbs)." He flapped the paper around. "Gripping stuff. One of my favorites."

"Ha-ha," Judy replied, snatching it back. "Some of us don't like being two months behind on their paperwork." She raised an eyebrow. "Despite only being on the force for a month."

"Oh c'mon, it's not that bad." he began, but was stopped in his tracks once he saw the tower of paper on his desk. It was actually visible above his cubicle divider.

He gulped. "Oh. Maybe it is that bad." He loosened his collar and started towards his desk. "Well, if anyone needs me, you know where I'll be."

"If you ever dig yourself out of that pile of work, I'll see you tonight!" her voice sounded from her cubicle as he walked away.

He gulped again, harder. "Bet on it!" he called back, with confidence he wished he felt.

—

Nick never had to knock. Grand Pangolin Arms' hallways were practically a creature of their own, the way they creaked and chirped. Or maybe that was just all the bugs living in floorboards. Either way, by the time he was outside her door, she'd already opened it wide and fixed him with a deadly serious expression. The pit in his stomach convulsed into a black hole. She knows. She's upset. Okay. Contingency plans. He wrestled with half-formed ideas he'd cooked up on the way over, but before he could open his mouth, she cut him off.

"In the criminal justice system, predator-prey based offenses are considered especially heinous," she deadpanned. "In Zootopia, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are foxes of an elite squad known as the Special Vixen Unit." She stared intensely into Nick's eyes. "These… are their stories."

Nick froze, then let out a breath. Despite his nerves, he couldn't help but crack into a smile as he rolled his eyes and hummed a terrible rendition of the opening theme. His smile widened as he watched Judy's face light up, laughing helplessly at his off-key singing. "Well, come on in! Show's about to start!" she chimed.

Nick strolled into the cramped apartment and heard Judy shut the door behind him. Her tiny TV was balanced on a simple wooden stand next to her desk. For some reason, Nick had never really noticed how limited the seating was in Judy's apartment. There was the bed… and… well, there was the bed.

So Nick hopped up onto the bed, and was reminded for the thousandth time how much larger he was than Judy. "You know, Carrots," he said as his feet dangled off the edge of the bed frame, "you ever thought about investing in a queen or something for the apartment? Or you know, like, a single?"

Judy climbed up onto the bed next to him and grabbed a pillow. "Pff. You know how many siblings I shared with in Bunnyburrow?" She scootched herself around, nesting in the sheets. "This is spacious."

Nick was about to counter when he heard the first notes of the Paw and Order theme song emanate from the TV. "Oh! It's starting!" Judy pointed. "Hit the light!"

He obliged, reaching over and flicking the switch. In the darkness, the TV's glow flickered and danced throughout the room as the Vixen unit stalked the latest felon in the fictional Paw and Order universe. Judy shuddered and gasped with every twist and turn of the plot, but Nick couldn't keep his thoughts from going astray.

His concentration lapsed even further as he felt something warm and soft brush up against his chest, then firmly plant itself there. He glanced down to see Judy's smoky fur leaning against him as she settled herself. He felt her twitch in surprise as the vixens' favorite supervisor revealed himself as the killer, and her ears jerked upward, one slapping him in the cheek. "Gah!" Nick cried, a hand flying to his face. "Watch where you aim those things!"

Judy giggled, turning her head to look up at him. Nick was acutely aware of how close this posture put their faces together. "Sorry," she said, with a sheepish shrug. "You said it yourself. Small bed." She turned back to the TV. "Small bunny!"

"Dumb bunny," Nick murmured.

"Sly fox," Judy replied without taking her eyes off the show.

The repartee was so familiar. Just him and Judy, in her apartment, watching silly TV shows and enjoying each other's company. How could I be afraid that something would mess this up? he chided himself. He settled back in, arching his back so Judy fit more snugly. Before he knew it, the credits rolled down the screen. He glanced down at her. "Pretty good episode huh? I mean, really, the supervisor was behind the whole thing? Who'd have guessed?"

"Yeah," Judy said. She peered back up at him. "So… Have you noticed everyone thinks we're dating?"

—

Nick's mouth opened, but nothing was coming out. Uh oh. I think I broke him, Judy thought. "Umm, okay," she blinked, "I'm just going to take that as a 'no'…"

"No!" Nick blurted. "I mean, yes. I may have, uh, picked up on that, yeah."

She laughed. "Pretty crazy right?" For a second, she thought she felt Nick laughing too; his muscles tensed underneath her, but she realized he wasn't making a sound. His fur was starting to stand on end, and she could feel his chest rising and falling faster and faster. His eyes stared straight ahead at the TV. Uhh… Nick?

"Uh, yeah, a little crazy, definitely," Nick said, eyes glued to the picture.

She looked up at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Are you alright?"

Reluctantly, she extricated herself from his warm midsection and scooted over to the other end of the bed. This didn't put as much room between them as it might have. She criss-crossed her legs and sat up straight, her ears standing at attention. "You're freaking out," she said earnestly. "Talk to me."

He peeled his eyes away from the TV and tried deflect Judy with a half-baked grin. "Oh, c'mon. Me? Freaking out? Look who you're talking to." Judy didn't buy it for a second.

"My best friend who's notoriously bad at sharing his feelings?"

Nick's frowned. "Ah, yeah, that's," he sputtered. "That's about right."

She rested her hands on her knees patiently. A few moments passed, then Nick finally sighed in exasperation. "Fine! Yeah, it kind of bothers me, okay?" He drew one knee up to his chest and left his other leg hanging off the bed. "I'm not exactly in love," Why would I pick that word? He internally berated himself. Why, why, why? He gritted his teeth, "with the idea that every time we hang out together everyone thinks that…" He searched frantically for a way to finish the sentence without trainwrecking. That everyone thinks we're knocking paws? That we're head over heels? That the cute, smart… perfect bunny somehow ended up with the two-bit, sarcastic fox? "…that something's going on," he finished lamely.

Judy was quietly reminded how much, despite appearances, Nick did let things get to him from time to time. She reached over and put a hand on his leg. "It's just a silly rumor. Forget about it."

"You know, Carrots, for some reason, silly little rumor kind of understates it."

She withdrew her hand. "Why?"

"I don't know! It just does!"

"I mean, I guess I'm sorry it's so horrible for you to be associated with me like that."

The joke zipped right past him. "No! What? That's not it at all!" he said, flustered. "I just… come on! I don't want anything to get, you know, weird!" He groaned. "Judy. You know I'm not good at this stuff."

Judy frowned. "Apparently not," she said with a hint of snark. "I mean, for someone who told me 'never let them see that they get to you'…"

He leapt up off the bed and held up his hands. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, Carrots. Excuse me for being a little… shaken up by the fact that apparently the whole frickin' continent is shipping us like a sailboat across the Pacific!"

He exhaled, and his shoulders dropped. "I just don't want anything to happen," he gestured in defeat at the two of them, "to this."

Judy felt emotion well up inside her. Nick… why do you always have to be bracing for a disaster?

She knew the answer. Nick's life hadn't exactly rewarded him for having faith in people or things. It had done the opposite; it had seized every opportunity to beat him down and nobody, especially not Judy, could blame the fox for being afraid of losing what he finally had. After all, she had played a prominent role in that particular history, and guilt over what she'd put Nick through still seared her conscience. His frustration over this, Judy realized, is just his way of clinging to what he cares about most.

She stood up and walked to the edge of the sheets. With Nick on the floor and her on the bed, they were face-to-face, a rarity for the pair. She put her hands on his shoulders and fixed her rich violet eyes on him. "Nick." She said, her voice firm. "Absolutely nothing," she emphasized each word, "is going to happen to this. Nothing's coming between us, no matter what. Least of all some stupid gossip. I couldn't care less what people think, and you shouldn't either." One of her paws drifted up to the soft fur along his muzzle. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. I love you!" A sly smile spread across her face, and she grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them as if he were a child. "And there's absolutely nothing you can do about it!"

The look Nick gave her filled her with joy; it rushed through her like a flood, eddies swirling and flowing to every corner of her little body. "I don't know what a fox like me did to deserve someone like you in my life," he said, shaking his head and trying to keep his composure.

She held out her arms. "Tax evasion."

Nick enfolded her in his arms, and she could feel every bit of his relief as his paws reached around her back and dug themselves into her fur. This was actually something of a novel experience for her, since hugging Nick usually meant burrowing her head in his chest. Now, thanks to the bed, they were at equal height. Judy took the opportunity to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him closer.

"You're right, you know," his voice sounded from over her shoulder. She couldn't see his face, but she guessed that was intentional, because she could feel warm droplets trickling from his muzzle to her back. "I shouldn't care what people think. And I don't, Judy. I really don't." They broke the hug, and she saw his face. "But I care what you think."

And all Judy could think, in that moment, was to hug him even tighter.

A/N: I wrote this chapter three completely different ways before settling here… first they hooked up, then they got in a huge fight, but ultimately this is what they really seemed to want to do. Their companionship is the beating heart of the movie, after all. That being said… anything goes when you're as close as Nick and Judy. Friends get together all the time, right? I dunno. Let's find out.

Chapter Text

You've got to be kidding me.

"WHO DID THIS?" Judy screeched. Her fiery gaze scanned the armory, fixing on the only target in sight: Francine, who was minding her own business in the corner after coming off the night shift. She stomped over and hopped up onto a bench, which made no discernible difference in their relative heights.

"Was this you?" she demanded, stabbing a finger in the elephant's direction. "Do you think this is funny, Francine?" As Francine started to shake her head in confusion, Judy leapt up, clinging to the base of the elephant's trunk and leaning in until their eyes nearly touched. "If I find out this was you, I will… I will… be very upset! Am I clear?" The terrified, sleep-deprived Francine nodded, the motion rocking the tiny bunny up and down in the process. Judy dropped to the floor, collected her gear, and slammed her locker door shut. As she was leaving, just before the armory door swung shut, she heard a barely suppressed guffaw escape the other officer's trunk. Judy's shoulders scrunched up, and she gritted her teeth, but she kept walking.

The morning light was just beginning to trickle through the bullpen windows as she took a seat in the back corner. As was often the case, Judy was the first one in. Sinking into the seat, she rested her head on the desk and rubbed her temples in small circles. This is just getting out of hand.

One by one, the other officers began to filter in as the clock above the door crept towards eight o'clock. A few noticed Judy's somewhat conspicuous absence in the front row, but none of them commented on it; it was early. At seven fifty-eight, Nick shuffled in sporting his aviators, a tall paper cup of steaming coffee, and an awful case of bedhead that actually covered most of his body. "Psst!" she motioned towards an open seat next to her in the back. He briefly lowered his aviators, baffled, and made his way over.

He slid into the chair. "A seat in the back? Are you sick or something?" He reached a finger towards her neck to check her pulse.

"What? No!" she snapped, swatting his hand. "It's happening again."

Nick groaned and slumped in the chair. "You're kidding me. What now?"

"The armory. Remember where your locker is?"

Nick thought for a moment. "Yeah, by the entrance on the left. Why?"

Judy shook her head. "Nope. Right side, halfway down." She drummed a finger on the desk. "Right. Next. To mine."

"Oh, come on!" Nick ran his paws through the fur on his head, leaving his bedhead even more pronounced. "First that phony police log report from Tundratown last weekend, 'Nick and Judy uncover drug ring during romantic sunset dinner on snowy seashore', then the 'HoppsWilde4Ever' montage on the meter-mobile dashboard, and then… all those stories on the web…" he shuddered. "I mean, at leas—"

"Shh!" Judy hushed him as Bogo entered the room, lumbering towards the podium. Most days the briefing began with Bogo yelling some variation of 'shut your face!' at the assembled force, but Mondays mornings tended to be the sleepy exception. True to the theme, Clawhauser's eyelids seemed be engaged in mortal combat with gravity, sinking down before jolting back up, then sinking down again.

"Hah-hem," the bull cleared his throat, but continued staring down at his notes silently. As the seconds ticked by, a few officers straightened up in their seats, uneasiness creeping into the air. The chief wasn't exactly one to wrestle with words, or mince them. If there's something Bogo doesn't know how to say, Judy feared, it has to be pretty grim.

Bogo slowly looked up at the room. "I'm not quite sure how to say this," he began gravely, "so I'm going to take it by the horns." He gripped the sides of the podium with such force that his hands trembled.

…

…

…

"GAZELLE CONCERT! THE WHOLE FORCE! THIS FRIDAY!"

The room erupted. Francine trumpeted her horn; McRoary, true to his namesake, let out a savage roar; even Nick couldn't hold back a surprised yip. Judy was completely beside herself; literally, she'd flown out of her chair so fast she practically left an afterimage. Hands raised in wild jubilee, she bounded across the room, leaping from table to table and squealing at the top of her lungs. Her spree ended abruptly as she leapt into Clawhauser's outstretched arms at full speed, knocking him back onto his ample backside and sending the half-bunny half-cheetah ball of joy rolling into a wall.

Some of the officers would even report they saw Bogo leap onto the podium and do the signature 'fist-pump' backup dancer move, but the chief hotly contested those claims, and accounts of the incident varied.

As the celebration died down, Bogo continued, albeit with a barely suppressed smile. "Gazelle will be kicking off her 'Try Everything, Everywhere' global tour here in Savannah Central, and to thank the force for its hard work these past months, she has extremely generously given a set of…" he briefly gathered himself, "phase one standing room tickets."

Judy almost fainted. Clawhauser did for a few seconds.

"The concert is the Friday evening. I'll be distributing your tickets as you leave today." His expression turned deadly serious. "Do not lose your ticket. If you lose your ticket, you will not go to the concert. If you do not go to the concert…" he shook his head in pure disgust. "That would be a tragedy."

Judy turned to Nick, paws drawn to her chest in tiny fists, quivering with excitement. "I can't believe this happening!" she squeaked.

Nick, having recovered his cool demeanor, leaned back in his chair. "I mean, you know what they say, Carrots." He shed his sunglasses for effect. "Good things, good people, all that?"

Judy grabbed the fox by the shirt collar and rattled him like a maraca. "Great things! Happen to great people! Like us!"

"Carrots—you're choking me—"

—

One of the concert's welcome fringe benefits was that everyone was too preoccupied to pull any more shenanigans on Nick and Judy; the week passed largely without incident. The pair got together to watch Paw and Order on Monday night as always, and at Nick's suggestion, marathoned the Rawr Wars trilogy on Wednesday. Judy agreed on the condition that they finally hang out at his place, but when Wednesday night rolled around, she realized that they were, in fact, in her apartment, and Nick had once again talked his way out of it. He was a little too good at that.

Judy fielded a series of press conferences; Nick fielded a series of mild distress calls that ranged from fainting goats ("No, you see, they're actually supposed to do that. It's in their biology," he tried to explain to the horrified elderly shrew that called it in) to an extraordinarily smelly standoff between a pair of skunks over a prime parking spot downtown. The stench Nick brought home was staggering, and a significant factor in his executive decision to spend the evening at Judy's place instead.

Judy, nestled in next to Nick as the opening Rawr Wars credit rolled down the screen, suddenly began sniffing at the air. Her nose led her to the source: the fox right next to her. "Did you… why do you smell like tomatoes?" Nick froze. "Ah… new shampoo?" he glanced down. "It kills with the vixens." Judy processed this for a moment, then shrugged, returning her attention to the screen.

On the day of the concert, the ZPD building was buzzing with anticipation. Out of necessity, a skeleton crew needed to stay behind to attend to such mundane matters as policing the city. To compensate, Bogo promised to reward volunteers with a generous weeks' vacation time. Truth be told, Nick would have taken him up on the offer in a world where Judy didn't exist. Concerts really weren't really Nick's scene. But he lived in a world where Judy did exist, thankfully, and he knew it would shred her soul if he skipped it. So when five o'clock rolled around, and they stowed their gear next to one another, he turned to her and feigned confusion. "So, Carrots, remind me. What time's the show again?"

She turned to him in disbelief. "Nick! It's at eight! How many times have I told you it's at eight?"

"Ah, right, right," he said, snapping his fingers. "And… it's who again? Hyena Gomez, right?"

That one earned him a flurry of tiny punches. "So, not, funny!" she said between blows.

"Ow, ow, geez, not the face!" Nick yowled as the rain of punches intensified.

Judy halted her attack, but still held her fists at the ready, dancing on her feet like a boxer. "Repeat after me: Gazelle, at eight o'clock, at Savannah Central Pavilion."

Nick crouched down to her height, hands on his knees. "Gazelle, at eight o'clock, at Savannah Central Pavilion." He recited deliberately. "I've got it. Don't you worry."

Judy stared him down for a moment, and jabbed him lightly on the nose. "You better."

He stood back up, swung his door shut, and headed towards the exit with Judy in tow.

They hopped onto the elevator and hit the up button; the armory was in the basement. The doors slid shut in front of them. "So!" Judy said. "What are you doing before the show?"

Nick was thumbing something into his phone, and didn't look up. "Oh, I'm booked solid. Organizing my fan memorabilia alphabetically, and then don't get me started on putting together an outfit for tonight."

"Uh-huh," Judy said, rolling her eyes as the elevator doors dinged open. "Weeelll… if you find an opening in your busy schedule, you should come by my place beforehand!"

"Hmm…" Nick mulled it over as they walked together through the lobby and pushed their way out the front doors. Outside, the light of the golden hour washed over them. "Well… I'll have to move a few things around… but I think I could make that work," he said, softening. They walked together as far as the edge of the concrete parking lot, where their paths home diverged. "I'll have my people talk to your people?"

"Well, my people say grilled cheese is going on the pan at six, so if you want dinner, let your people know not to be too late," Judy countered with a smile, turning on her heel and throwing up a hand in goodbye as she treaded away.

Nick licked his chops. "Grilled cheese. You know the way to my heart," he said in a voice low enough that he thought she wouldn't hear.

Her big ears twitched. "Of course I do!" she called back without turning around. "Through your stomach!"

—

A mozzarella swirl for variety, and just a dash of pesto, and… beautiful! As the sandwiches came together, Judy internally thanked her mother for passing on her grilled cheese formula. Judy was no master chef, but armed with Bonnie's recipe (a legend in the triburrows), she had at least one dish to be proud of. The first time she'd served it to Nick, he'd almost fallen out of his chair. The second time, he had to take a few deep breaths and gather himself before he took the first bite. Seriously… I think most girls dream about finding a boy that looks at them the way Nick looks at these sandwiches.

As a finishing touch, she added a tiny leaf of parsley: a garnish to, as Bonnie would say, 'make the thing pop!' A quick look at her FitBit: 6:15. Right on schedule. Judy grabbed a plate in each hand and backed out of the communal kitchen into the hallway. Before she even turned the corner, she heard the sound of a familiar set of knuckles rapping on an old wooden door. Ahh… perfect timing.

"Ah, Nick, there you are! Could you get that door for me?"

Nick blinked at her, then turned the knob and held the door open for her. "Ah… sorry I'm late?"

Judy put the two plates down on her desk and began pouring two glasses of lemonade from a pitcher in her mini-fridge. "On the contrary! You're right on time."

Nick blinked again, and checked the time on his phone. "Uhhh…"

She turned and shot him a smug look at him over her shoulder, shifting her weight to one hip playfully. "See, I've come up with something I like to call the Wilde formula, which lets me predict the difference between when you say you'll be places and when you'll actually show up."

He raised an eyebrow and took a seat, lacing his hands behind his head. "Oh, Carrots, please do illuminate me."

She pushed a plate and a glass in front of him, which he gratefully accepted. "Well, it's pretty math-y, so let me see if I can dumb it down for you." Her eyes darted from side to side, as if performing complex calculations. Then she fired off a staccato burst.

"Just take the square root of the distance to the closest blueberry stand, divide that by the number of Hawaiian shirts you own, raise it to the power of the number of days we've known each other, and finally, multiply that by the amount of federal taxes you reported in your pawpsicle-selling career."

Nick processed that flurry of information for a moment. "But that equals zero."

She furrowed her brow. "Oh yeah." She pulled up the other chair, which had been resting against the wall, and sat down next to him. "Then you add fifteen minutes, and that's when you'll be there."

Nick couldn't help but chuckle, picking up the sandwich in front of him and examining it from all possible different angles like a piece of fine artwork. Sighing, he looked at Judy, eyes brimming with emotion. "She's… she's beautiful." Before Judy could respond, he'd stuffed an entire half of the sandwich into his mouth.

Wow, I do forget exactly how many teeth Nick has sometimes. His mouth seemed just to be bursting with endless rows of jagged teeth, teeth she'd seen about as up close as a bunny could and still be breathing. Up close enough to feel them wrap around her throat. The scene was a thread in the fabric of any bunny's nightmare, but oddly enough, it had the opposite effect: instead of choking with fear, the gentle pressure was… comforting. It felt like trust.

She returned her gaze to Nick in time to see a tinge of fear creep into his eyes as he realized he might have, literally, bitten off more than he could chew. But in a display of pure effort, he managed to munch the mass of grilled cheese to the point where he could he forcefully swallow it. Judy looked on in a combination of fascination and disgust. "Ugh. Nick, that honestly looked like it hurt."

Nick picked up the second half and gave her as dignified an expression as can come from a fox that nearly choked moments before. "Sometimes… you have to suffer for art," he preached before savagely devouring the other half, sending mozzarella flying onto his shirt.

Judy tried to keep a straight face, but it was a losing battle. Predators… she thought to herself as she nibbled the corner of her sandwich.

Unlike Nick, she took a few minutes to eat, during which he patiently waited and engaged her in conversation every time her mouth was too full to respond. Once Judy had finished, he gathered her plates up, unprompted, and delivered them to the kitchen. "Gosh," she sighed as he walked back into her room, "what a gentleman."

"Don't get too excited, Carrots. I just left them in the sink."

"Still the thought that counts!" She frowned. "Nick… you've got cheese all over your shirt." She padded over to him, wetted a paw, and rubbed at a dark series of spots on the front of his green Hawaiian shirt. He pressed his lips together but looked away and let her work on him. "Hmm," Judy looked closely. "I think this might need something stronger…"

"Really, don't worry about it," Nick demurred, scanning his shirt. "It's just a part of the pattern now." A roguish smile played across his face. "Although, if it's something strong you're looking for…" his hand slipped into his shorts pocket and emerged with a silver flask.

Judy peered at the metal container. "Uh… what is that?"

He unscrewed the cap and wafted it into his nose. "This, Carrots, is some of the finest rye whiskey that very-little-money can buy. Bona-fide fun in a bottle." He waved it in front of her. "Care to wet your whistle?"

She hesitated, her big ears furling down and hiding against her back. "Ah… no, I think I'm alright."

Nick shrugged and took a swig, swallowing hard and suppressing a shiver. "Suit yourself." He licked his lips mischievously. "Probably a little strong for a little bunny like yourself, anyhow." He pocketed the flask and went about pointlessly rearranging things on her desk, stealing a glance out of the corner of his eye to see if the shot landed.

It had.

"Oh, give me that," she snapped, digging into Nick's pocket and fishing out the flask. She unscrewed the cap, sniffed it, and instantly recoiled. But she wasn't to be deterred. "Well… bottoms up!" she chirped, then raised it to her lips and took a swallow. And then… another. And another.

Nick's jaw dropped. "What the—Judy! What are you doing?!" He snatched the flask from her hands.

She coughed, her normally steel-shaded cheeks colored with a rosy blush. "Gah, that stuff tastes horrible."

He looked at her as if trying to decipher a coded message. "Carrots, have you ever drank before?"

She looked up at him innocently. "Maybe. Maybe not." She grinned. "Woo! It sure does warm you up, huh?"

Nick slapped his forehead. "Oh boy. No more whiskey for you."

Judy was about to protest when her phone buzzed loudly on her desk. "Uh oh. Message from Chief Bogo," she winced, swiping to open it. "'Come outside now?'" Nick and Judy exchanged a look of confusion. "What could that be about?"

As the pair started towards the door, Nick noticed she was still in uniform. "You know, as stylish as the ZPD color scheme is…"

"Oh!" Judy yelped, "I almost forgot!" She ran over to her tiny dresser, yanking the drawers open and rummaging through. Her arms emerged with a pair of black shorts and a simple lavender t-shirt. "Uh, Nick?" she said when she turned around, pursing her lips. "A little privacy?"

The fox, who had been watching absentmindedly, realized his error. "Ah… heh, I'll just be right outside," he said quickly, stepping out and shutting the door behind him.

A few moments later, she emerged and they made their way out into the street. "Huh," Judy murmured. "I don't see anything." Her ears perked up. "Wait, I hear something coming this way."

Suddenly, an elongated black shape hurtled around the corner and raced towards them.

"Is that a…?"

A limo—or a stretch SUV, to be exact, came screeching to halt against the curb in front of Grand Pangolin. No light escaped its tinted windows but the unmistakable rumbling of subwoofers reverberated through the frame. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, with a hiss, a sunroof slid open, the bouncing notes of an oppressively loud Gazelle track spilling out in the process. When it had fully opened, Chief Bogo's massive form jammed itself through the opening.

"OFFICER HOPPS! OFFICER WILDE! REPORT FOR DUTY!" He flung his hands up and swung himself to the beat as much as was possible with half his body still inside the limo. From somewhere inside, Clawhauser's voice caught every word of the song, albeit horribly off key.

Judy was dumbstruck. "Nick… Chief Bogo is…"

"Mhmm, plastered. Extremely."

She turned to him. "…We should get in."

Nick produced his aviators from thin air, flicked them onto his face, and opened the limo door into a scene of insanity. "After you, Officer Hopps."

Chapter Text

Savannah Central Pavilion was packed to capacity, and then some. It was a perfectly clear and cool summer night; stars winked in the sky above the open-air arena, punctuated by fireworks and spotlights. Gazelle was known and loved for her visually stunning concerts, and she spared no expense in making the kickoff show in her home city her most kinetic, dazzling, and fun performance yet.

Thousands of fans danced and jumped and sang in unison with their idol, bathed in the trancelike multicolored light that seemed to come from all directions. Gazelle, atop center stage with fountains and lasers triggering around her in time with the beat, sent waves of elation rippling through the arena with each new song. Somehow, each passing moment was better than the last.

Even Nick couldn't help but enjoy himself, bobbing his head along with the crowd. But next to him, Judy was on a whole other plane of existence.

Phase one standing room was as close to the stage as possible without actually being up on it, and the proximity to Gazelle had sent Judy into fangirl overdrive. She pumped her arms into the air, leaping up and down and squealing in delight as her ears flopped around wildly. Her lips caught nearly every word that Gazelle sang, shouting them in euphoria even though they were instantly drowned out by the sounds of the concert.

Nick had to admit it was pretty cute. If the generous helping of whiskey she'd guzzled before the show was affecting her, it was impossible to distinguish from her innate enthusiasm.

As soon as he looked away, he felt a solid, familiar mass hip-check him. He turned to the source, but Judy had already innocently returned to leaping up and down with the beat. Nick Wilde was not an elegant dancer, but with a fountain of unbridled enthusiasm jumping around next to him, he gave in to the music and started shuffling his hands around and swaying vaguely to the beat. She glanced in his direction and her paws flew to cover her mouth, erupting in warm laughter.

If it were anyone else, Nick would have been embarrassed. But instead, a giant, goofy grin spread across his face: hearing her laugh again suddenly took priority over looking silly. He threw one hand behind his head, held the other straight out, and did the 'sprinkler' with gusto. When his rotations took him in her direction, he saw the bunny doubled over, guffawing.

"Nick!" she wheezed, "Stop! I can't! I'm dying!" Nick just shook his head and pointed to his ears as if to say 'can't hear you!' and started gyrating his hips in a Gazelle imitation, nearly sending her to the floor.

Judy and Nick weren't the only ones enjoying themselves. Nearby, Clawhauser and Chief Bogo were nailing move after move in a sequence that was suspiciously well-executed and synchronized with dancers on stage. It was such an impressive display that Gazelle, in a moment between songs, pointed to the pair and praised them. "You two… are some hot dancers!" she declared, to the utter delight of the ZPD contingent.

"IT'S NOT JUST AN APP!" Clawhauser screamed hysterically, grabbing Bogo by the shoulders and shaking him. "THIS IS REAL! I REALLY AM A HOT DANCER!"

—

As the concert drew to a close and the final words, 'Try Everything', echoed through the night, Nick turned to Judy, dripping with sweat and panting. "Okay, Carrots, when you're right, you're right." He ran a hand through the fur on his head, leaving it sticking out in every direction. "That was great."

She was out of breath too. "Best. Night. Ever." She grinned at him and mimicked his cheesy dancing. "Way to murder the dancefloor out there, slick. That must be how you get the vixens, huh?"

The crowd flowed collectively towards the exit, carrying the pair and rest of the ZPD cohort along with it. "Ah, you know me too well," Nick said.

"I don't think there's such a thing," she replied with a playful punch. "Hey, Chief Bogo!" she dashed forward and caught up to the lumbering chief. "Any chance a bunny can catch a ride home in that limo?"

Bogo turned to her, swaying slightly, and said severely, "Our limo will absolutely not be giving any rides home."

Judy pouted, her nose twitching. "Oh, come on! Why not?"

Judy let out a yip as the towering cape buffalo leaned down and scooped her up, holding her up in the air by her armpits. Dangling in his arms, she looked like a toy. He brought her in until their noses were practically touching. "Officer Hopps," he repeated, slurring her name, "our limo will not give any rides home." He narrowed his eyes.

"We will exclusively be giving rides to the afterparty!" he bellowed, the force of his voice blowing the fur back on Judy's head. With that, he slung the rabbit over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes - or carrots - and bowled through the crowd towards the street.

Judy blinked for a moment, bouncing off Bogo's shoulder, before pumping her fists. "Woo woo!" she hollered, "Afterparty!" She scanned the crowd from her elevated vantage point and saw Nick desperately trying to wade through the crowd to catch up.

"Nick! Hey Nick, up here!" His eyes tracked up to the sound, and he froze in disbelief. Unfortunately for him, the rest of the crowd kept on moving forward, and he was unceremoniously buffeted forward by the rock-hard stomach of a rhinoceros, sending him stumbling.

By the time he caught up, she had climbed up and around Bogo's neck to sit on his shoulders in a slightly more dignified position, her legs draped over his chest. "Hey, how come you never carry me like this?" she teased, flapping her t-shirt to cool off.

"Self-respect," Nick called up at her, cupping his hands so his voice would reach her, "motivation, dignity, size… shall I go on?"

"Size?" she replied, paws flying to her mouth in mock horror. "What's that supposed to mean!?"

"My size, ya' dumb bunny, not yours!"

"Nope! I'm calling your bluff!" She stood up and deftly turned herself around on Bogo's shoulders to face Nick. His eyes widened as he saw her legs tense, ready to pounce.

"No, no, no, gah!" he cried as she dive-bombed him. For a few moments, they were a writhing silver and orange mass, limbs tangled like a ball of string as she crawled over him, trying to get on top. "Oh, hold still!" She laughed as he tried to buck her off. Finally, she clawed her way onto his back, and his arms found the underside of her legs in a piggy-back. "There!" she sang, beaming at him over his shoulder. "See, this isn't so bad!"

"Speak for yourself," he groaned. "I've got pawprints all over me." He conceded defeat by hiking her up on his back to a more comfortable angle. "The things I do for…"

"For?"

"…For my fellow officers," he finished, looking back at her with a straight face. "They made me say an oath, you know. It's serious business."

"Mhmm." She laid her arms on the crown of his head and rested her chin on them, admiring the speckled-canvas sky and feeling the cool air on her fur. The crowd slowly began to thin around them, and Judy realized they'd lost track of Bogo in the fray. Her gaze swept the area, and from her perch, quickly caught Bogo's imposing silhouette in the dark against the stretch SUV a few hundred meters away. "Hey, they're over there! Hang a liger!"

Nick turned to his left, but overshot the mark; he couldn't see through the crowd. "Sheesh, who's driving this thing?" she muttered into one of his ears, grabbing his head in her paws and pointing it in the right direction.

"I don't know, but I think I'd like to give her a ticket for operating under the influence, among other things," Nick shot back.

A few minutes later, they made it to the limo. A few minutes after that… the pair's collective memory was reduced to a series of hazy, frayed vignettes, and then oblivion.

—

Judy's eyes fluttered open.

Mistake.

She shut her eyes tightly and clasped her paws over them just to be safe, sucking in a breath. That turned out to be a mistake too, as the stench of stale alcohol and chlorine assaulted her fragile nose and sent her stomach tumbling. Her throat had apparently decided to take up residence in Sahara Square, but she grimly acknowledged getting up and finding water was utterly inconceivable at that moment. Meanwhile, a splitting headache scuttled her attempts to reason through her predicament, and her body, on the whole, felt as though it had been expertly beaten up Mr. Big's most enthusiastic henchman. For all she knew, maybe it had.

What the heck happened last night?

Through the discomfort, she tried to summon memories from the night before. Bits and pieces welled up gradually, disjointed and foggy.

She remembered the thumping bass in the neon interior of the limo as they pulled away from the concert. Nick was there, Clawhauser, Bogo, Wolford, and Sampson, and maybe someone else. With a groan, she recalled everyone passing around a tall bottle of… something. Something that, when it came to her, she gulped down with gusto. It had smelled horrible but she barely tasted it; that was a bad sign. Peals laughter drifted into her head, along the sound of assembled officers cheering her. Nick's voice was in the mix too, repeating some sort of warning.

"Weeee LIKE to drink with Judy, cause bunnies hold their weight! And when we drink with Judy, she gets it down in eight! Seven! Six! Five!"

And then she had felt the bottle yanked out of her hand as Nick swooped in to avert what, in retrospect, would have been an even greater calamity. In the face of raucous jeers and slanderous accusations, he proceeded to take what at the time must have seemed like the only logical option: to chug the rest of the bottle. After that sequence, her snippets were even barer.

A big house. Bogo's? Judy wondered. Am I still there? A lot of people… but people that she'd known. Officers. A pool—that explained the smell chlorine. More bottles… a lot more bottles. Terrible dancing. Unforgivably bad dancing. First from Nick, then Judy, then both of them together. Then all she could recall were noises: splashing, music, laughter, yelling… something shattering.

As Judy lay still, Stu's admonitions about alcohol came to mind. 'Alcohol and bunnies go together like slugs and salt, Jude, it'll put you right on your keister and not before you've made a complete dunce of yourself.' She shivered, pulling the heavy comforter tighter.

Or at least, she tried to. The comforter, for some reason, wasn't budging. She tugged at it again; nothing. Whimpering, she snaked a paw through the covers to find the problem.

What she found was exceptionally warm and soft… and breathing.

She froze for a moment, then recoiled her hand as if burnt. Oh god. She turned over and saw a sizable form (bigger than a bunny, at least) burrowed underneath the covers next to her. Oh god. With a trembling hand, she gingerly reached over and peeled back the covers to reveal n shirtless, splayed-out, burnt orange fox.Oh, it's just Nick. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Without the covers enveloping him, gentle snores snuck out of his snout every few breaths. Watching him there, it suddenly occurred to her exactly what color Nick was. Ochre. And, despite being constantly disheveled (now more than ever), how his coat somehow had this inviting quality, like an old knotted rug that reminded you of home. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Nick, at that moment, stirred and laboriously lifted an eyelid, making smacking noises with his mouth. His eyes drifted around for a moment in pain before focusing on her face leaning over him. "Mmhph… not a creepy way to wake up at all, Carrots."

Judy's mouth made an 'oh' shape for a moment as she realized what it looked like. "Oh, no, I," she stuttered, "I was just—I just woke up, and—"

"Carrots… volume…" he keened, reaching for a pillow and burying his head underneath it. "I get it," he said, voice muffled, "You enjoyed the view. I have this sort of effect on women."

She blushed hotly. "Shut up… and jeez, put a shirt on already."

He poked his head out. "Speak for yourself." Her blush deepened to the color of ripe cherries as her gaze shot down to her chest; her lavender t-shirt was stained and wrinkled, but most certainly on her.

"Ha-haa, made you look," he said weakly.

If she hadn't been debilitatingly hungover, she would have been pulverizing him. As it was, she flopped down next to him and curled into the fetal position. "Ooooh," she crooned, "What happened last night?"

"I don't know," Nick replied, "And I don't want to find out until these jackhammers in my head go on break."

At that moment, the door exploded inwards. "Hellllooooo!" sang Clawhauser's voice. "What have we heeerree?"

Nick retreated back underneath the pillow, hissing a stream of obscenities. Judy hugged her ears against her head; the sound of the door bouncing off the wall was like a bomb going off and Clawhauser's voice was so shrill and loud that she wondered if he's stolen Gazelle's amplifiers from the night before. "Get out!" she said in the strongest voice she could muster. It was slightly louder than a mumble.

Her words bounced off him with no apparent effect. "Crazy night last night, huh?" He smiled as if in on a secret. "Looks like you lovebirds got into some trouble!"

Nick and Judy both went completely rigid.

"Oh get off it, Clawhauser," came Wolford's grating voice. He leaned his head in the door. "They just went right to sleep, I saw it myself." He glared at the cheetah. "Quit trying to cheat. The pool's still going."

Clawhauser huffed in disappointment as, unseen by him, Judy and Nick's hearts resumed beating. "Oh, fine. Be that way." He glanced back at the pair and giggled. "Well… you two better get back to sleep. You look just a little bit the worse for wear there!"

With that, the cheetah and wolf exited the room, squeezing the door behind them. Their conversation, fading in volume as they got farther away, was still audible through the thin wood.

"Well, they were having quite the drunken talk beforehand, let me tell you."

"About what?

"What do you think?"

When their voices disappeared, they behind a pregnant silence. Judy directed her gaze anywhere in the room except the fox next to her. The room was small, without space for anything more than the bed and a small nightstand. A lamp that had probably resided on that nightstand at one point lay in fragments on the floor next to it. Judy winced. Grey walls wrapped around the thin wooden door and a single window. She inhaled a drawn-out breath, as if ready to say something, then let it out. Why am I being awkward? she berated herself.

She sat up, sucked in another breath, and this time managed to say, "I don't remember talking…"

Nick's head emerged from underneath the pillow. "Me either."

She shifted. "…What do you think it was about?"

He sat up next to her, the covers rolling off his bare chest as he rubbed his eyes. He wobbled to his feet and drew the blinds on the window before collapsing back onto the bed, burrowing under the covers. "Who knows?"

She felt her heart speed up slightly. She'd seen Nick shirtless a hundred times, and they snuggled together in her bed watching TV all the time. What the heck is WRONG with me? Am I letting those idiots get to me, after everything I told Nick? A tiny voice that usually hid in a far back corner of her mind poked its head out and made a candid suggestion: It wouldn't bother you if there wasn't truth to it.

"Let's get out of here," she declared just as a lance of pain shot through her head. "…as soon as I don't feel like death itself," she finished with a wince, lying back down.

"Hopps," he mumbled, eyes shut. "Shhh."

She drew the covers over herself, squeezing her eyes closed and willing herself to relax enough to get back to sleep.

A rogue paw snuck over and rested itself on her side, then gently wrapped around her. As it did, her heartbeat calmed to its normal pace. An involuntary smile flickered across her muzzle, and without thinking about it, she wiggled backwards until her back came up against a soft, warm wall of fur.

Where there's smoke, there's fire, the little voice inside her nagged, but she shoved it back to the outskirts of her mind. She was too comfortable to worry about it at that moment.

Gradually, a curious sensation combed her fur; it felt like she was buzzing. What is that? she wondered. It grew more and more distinct, curiously and not unpleasantly. It took her a few moments to realize the vibrations weren't coming from her. They were coming from Nick, deep in his chest.

He was purring.

Chapter Text

Deep inside The Pound, behind thick walls and thicker security guards, Dawn Bellwether itched at her unruly wool. In the the past weeks it had grown thick and ungroomed. The Pound was Zootopia's highest security prison, home to its most infamous criminals: the Savannah Strangler, the Kodiak Killer, and the most recently, the disgraced former-mayor. Isolated ten miles from the city proper and two miles from any other building, with a single entrance road, nothing got in or out of The Pound without the warden's knowledge.

In the general population, Bellwether was referred to as the black sheep. She was genuinely hated. The vast majority of inmates were predators, and had watched from grainy prison televisions as Bellwether's plans and ideals had demonized their race. The prison ran too tightly for any of them to attack to her, but a torrent of threats and slander found its way to her ears at every opportunity. It surprised nobody that she spent most of her time brooding in dark corners by herself.

She earned a different nickname among the guards: 'Sweet N' Sour', owing to her tendency to be charming one moment, and positively venomous the next. She would ask sweetly for a loosened manacle or another helping of food, then turn furious when the request was denied. Despite that deficiency, the guards knew her as a mostly trouble-free inmate; with murderous predators over six hundred pounds to worry about, the petty rage of a sheep of petty stature was easy to filter out.

That was how Bellwether liked it.

"Guard!" she called out one night in a weak voice as the nighttime rain pattered against the metal ceiling of the cellblock. "Guard, please!"

The guard, a weathered ape, stomped over and shined a harsh flashlight in her face, which was contorted in pain. "What?"

"My stomach, Al! It hurts!" She clasped her hands over her belly and doubled over.

Al rolled his eyes and scratched at the hair on his arms. "No doctor's visits this time of night. Be a tough little lamb and suck it up." He started to walk away, arms nearly dragging on the floor.

Bellwether's howls pitched up an octave. He stopped, gritted his teeth, and turned back to her. "Paws," he growled.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she turned and backed up against a slot in the door, gingerly slipping her hands through. He grabbed them, his hairy hands enveloping her paws, and locked a pair of cuffs around them.

He carefully fit the key into the lock and opened her door, eyes narrowed. When she emerged, he grabbed a fistful of her jumpsuit at the shoulder to guide her. "This had better—"

Before he could finish, a wailing siren rang out, accompanied by a series of shouts through the hall. "Hey, he's escaping! Help! All guards! It's a break!" The cell block descended into a panic: from within their cells, all the prisoners began rattling their metal bars and shouting in excitement. Al looked in the direction of the commotion, then back at the tiny lamb he held. His other hand reached back to his belt and emerged with a heavy chain. He clipped one end to her manacles and the other to the bars of her door. "Tough luck. Your stomach ache'll have to wait," he snarled as he barreled away.

"But! But!" She cried after him. As soon as he was out of sight, however, her lips curled upwards. She tested her hands; no good. The manacles were flush with the soft wool on her hands. She took a deep breath, bit her lip, and began rubbing against the metal, first gently, then more vigorously. The manacles didn't shift.

But she did.

Bit by bit, wool began slipping off her paws. She couldn't will herself to shed the extra hair, but she could do it the hard way. She tested again: this time, there was a bit of give. She heard the commotion on the other end of the cellblock begin to die down, and redoubled her efforts. Tufts of wool started to pile up on the metal floor. With a yank, she pulled one paw free of the metal, then the other. She winced in pain and sucked on one of her wrists; the naked skin was rubbed an angry shade of red. But when she took it out of her mouth, she was grinning.

A few minutes later, she sprinted under the starlight to a corner of the rec yard to meet another silhouette, perhaps the only inmate smaller than her.

"No way. It actually worked, eh?"

"The distraction worked like a charm, and that idiot Al was perfect. Fell for it hook, line, and sinker."

"Well, let's make like a coupla' cheetahs and zoom outta joint before The Pound realizes it's missing its adorably diabolical ewe."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the prison-wide alarm system exploded into a cacophony. Red lights exploded into the night sky.

"Sounds like my cue," Bellwether said, daintily reaching to the ground and dusting off a layer of dirt to reveal a thin covering. She pulled it aside, climbing into a narrow, steep tunnel. "Not too shabby, Dom. I knew I could count on you."

"Hey, the kinda money you were promising?" he climbed in behind her and pulled the covering over the top, enshrouding them in darkness. "More than enough for me to get myself arrested, especially when getting out's such a breeze. The Pound was built for rhinos, not naked mole rats."

—

"Everyone's seen the news. You know why we're here."

The assembled task force nodded. It was Monday morning, but this group of officers was alert and laser focused. They weren't down on the ground floor in the bullpen; they were on the fourth floor, in the windowless situation room. It was much tighter than the bullpen, and the walls were overlaid with mission protocols, tactical maps, and screens that cast a dim green glow over the room. For officers like McRoary and Fangmeyer, who ran SWAT missions regularly, the space was familiar. For officers like Nick and Judy, its paramilitary atmosphere was striking. It underscored the gravity of the situation.

The officers sat around an elongated table in the middle of the room while Bogo gestured to a figure on the main screen. "The details on Dawn Bellwether's escape are still emerging, and for our purposes, they are not immediately important," he said. "Our primary concern is tracking down her current location and apprehending her."

There was no hint of the drunken whirlwind the chief had been a few nights before. Instead, he was every ounce the consummate and steely professional that had guided the city through the Nighthowler incident. "On the record, the rationale is that although she poses little threat, the public will be terrified as long as she remains at large."

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Off the record," he continued, "We know what she's been capable of in the past." He grimaced. "As far as I am concerned, we should assume she represents the highest level of threat. She is smart, she is ruthless, and she has unfinished business in this city."

He clicked a remote in his hand, and the screen shifted to a map. "We have no real leads to speak of, but we have a few best guesses as to where to begin." A red X popped up in the rainforest district. "Team One will investigate the former serum cache on the edge of the cloud forest."

Another red X flashed over Tundratown. "Team two will search for leads by the Polar Strait. There have been several reports in the last weeks of anti-predator groups organizing in the area. Nothing public, nothing violent… but if Bellwether were to have sympathizers, then we stand a good chance of finding them there."

A third red X appeared in the city center. "Team three will remain in Savannah Central, spearheading and coordinating public security."

He shut off the screen and leaned heavily on the table, looking out at the task force. "Gentlemen. And ladies," he nodded at Judy and Ezra, the ZPD's striped security specialist, "Some days we wear the badge. But some days, we earn it." He glanced over at Nick, the most junior officer in the room. "This is one of those days. Find her, and bring her in."

—

Nick's neck craned up… and up… and up…

Wow.

Sampson paused next to the Nick, the fox's face frozen in an expression of awe. "First time in the cloud forest?"

Nick nodded, mouth still agape. "Uh-huh."

The rainforest district was not flat. Although it the incline was gradual, the region sloped up to an apex in the southeast corner. The altitude meant that the area was perpetually shrouded in the mist of low-lying stratus clouds, and the combination of thin air, extra-abundant moisture, and brisk air fostered a forest ecosystem unlike any other in the district.

Nick and Sampson found themselves on the edge of the Cloud Forest, dwarfed by its sheer scale. The trees were vast and ancient, their gnarled trunks thick as skyscraper foundations and their trunks nearly as tall as skyscrapers themselves, winding upwards until they disappeared into the silvery fog. Strange calls sounded from the above the sightline, ephemeral hints of animals and worlds unseen below.

Nick stepped gingerly on the soft, olive ground. Thick moss spilled from the trunks of trees to the ground, stretching to cover wide patches of earth. The rest was dark, wet dirt teeming with life of its own.

"Cache is this way," Sampson said, placing a paw on Nick's shoulder and continuing towards a path through the wall of trees.

"…Uh-huh…" Nick murmured, padding forward. As soon as he entered the forest, he felt his fur stiffen in response to the cooler temperature. His tail, swishing through the mist, gathered droplets of condensation. His eyes were wide in rare wonder. "I, uh... wow."

The leopard ahead of him nodded. "I know. But we should keep moving. The rest of the task force will be waiting." The team of seven had split, with five of the officers staying behind to question nearby residents about any unusual activity. The remaining two, Sampson and Nick, would search the cache itself.

It had been discovered a few days after Bellwether's arrest. It was by no means a grand facility, just a small, temperature controlled storage structure tucked away on the fringes of the forest. ZPD Biohazard had found three crates of distilled Nighthowler serum, enough to contaminate about a hundred mammals, depending on their size and weight. Although they had carefully swept the cache the first time around, Bogo suspected Bellwether might return to see if anything had been left behind.

The path had been cleared by the ZPD when they first discovered the cache, but the wildlife was quickly reclaiming it. Branches and twigs encroached every few feet, forcing the officers to duck frequently. Sampson held one up, allowing Nick to pass under. "That was quite the night, on Friday," he said, making conversation.

Nick winced. "I, ah, yep. Yeah, you were there… right?"

The leopard smiled. He was about a foot taller than Nick and more athletic, sinewy bands of muscle flowing beneath his dusty-well spotted coat, tinged a few shades darker as it wicked moisture from the air. "Yes. I was there."

"Aha, right." Nick laughed sheepishly. "Yeah, I'd say the score stands at 'blueberry wine: one, Nick Wilde… negative infinity'." He traced a paw along a tree trunk as they passed it. "If you're back at that house anytime and you happen to see my dignity lying around, well, I couldn't find it anywhere."

"Maybe Judy's seen it?"

Nick soured, clawing off a piece of bark. "Come on. Not you too, Samspon." He shot him an angry look. "Let me guess: you're in on the little 'pool' too?"

"I'm not in on any pool," he replied calmly. They walked in silence for a minute.

Nick willed himself to return to neutral. Sampson was well known on the force as an even-keeled, even pensive veteran, and in retrospect, probably the last person Nick should be accusing of something that juvenile. Maybe I'm just on edge because my fellow officers are gambling on when I'll date my best friend. Gosh, imagine that. He glanced back at Sampson.

"Look, I'm sorry. The whole thing," he gestured abstractly with his paws, "just kind of gets under my coat."

Sampson shrugged. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's understandable." He looked over at Nick. "But you like her."

It wasn't a question.

"I don't blame you. She's an extraordinary girl." He sighed, thinking back. "I had the chance to work with for a week in the meadowland district. She talked so much, so brightly about how it reminded her of her home in Bunnyburrow… We were investigating a water contamination case, and watching her speak with the mammals there, it's the sort of sincerity that can't be faked. It's rare."

He gazed up into the canopy. "She's got this sort of quality… she's luminous. She does what she loves and loves what she does, not just within the ZPD but everywhere. It's a passion, pure as the driven snow, for life and for the mammals around her and Zootopia and the idea of Zootopia, and it's infectious. I've been on the force fifteen years and I'm not immune." He paused. "Neither, I think, are you."

Nick stared straight ahead, completely bewildered. What the heck am I supposed to say to that? "You, uh, ever considered a poetry club, big man?"

Sampson chuckled. "Once or twice. You ever consider actually taking something seriously?"

Nick swatted at a fly on the back of his neck. "Once or twice."

"Good," Samspon replied. "She does."

Nick stopped in his tracks. "I—she—hey!" He jogged to catch up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Talk to her about it."

"Oh come on, Sampson, buddy, Sampson, my man, don't do me like that, if you—"

"Talk to her about it."

"Oh, that's real helpful. If I wanted—"

"It's not like you had a problem bringing it up when you were sloshed."

Nick's paw flew to his chest as if wounded. "Oh, that's a low blow. Sure, take shots at the drunk guy." Nick groaned, dragging his hands down his cheeks, stretching out the fur. He was only fifty percent frustrated with the officer beside him. The rest was frustrated at the little non-corporeal fox perched on his shoulder persistently whispering into his ear, 'You can't avoid this forever.'

Nick exhaled forcefully. "Aright, Shakespaw, maybe I do, maybe I don't. You happy?"

"Ecstatic. We're here."

The path ended a few feet from a metal storage container. The gunmetal gray walls were utterly at odds with the greenery of the forest, and the ecosystem clearly took offense: in the span of a few weeks, roots and vines had already wrapped themselves around the structure, barring the door. Sampson wrangled the growth off the door and heaved it open.

It was a single room, no bigger than perhaps twenty square feet. The clang of the lock opening echoed across the dark interior. Sampson flicked on his flashlight. "Nothing," Samspon said, surveying the room. The ZPD had confiscated everything weeks prior, and not even a single crate remained. He grimaced. "I figured as much. I didn't understand why Bogo bothered checking. Bellwether's too smart for this."

"Well," Nick murmured, crouching down. "If I know anything about crime—which, you know, it's a big 'if',—it's not about being how smart you are." He turned on his flashlight and turned it towards the floor. "It's about how careful you are."

The beam of light illuminated two sets of paw prints tracking in through the door. One set clearly belonged to a sheep. The other…

—

"I understand, m'am. Well, if you see anything out of the ordinary, give the ZPD a call at this number, alright?" Judy said with a smile, handing the elderly otter in front of her a card.

The otter accepted it with a frail paw. "Oh thank you, dear. Now… what exactly did this Shellfeather character look like again?"

McRoary groaned, gripping Judy by the shoulder and pulling her away. "Look, if you see something, say something, alright? Hopps, let's—"

Judy pried his paw off her shoulder. "M'am, her name's Bellwether," she corrected earnestly. "She's a white-haired sheep, about yay high, and remember," Judy held out her paws, tracing her wrists. "She'll be missing wool in this area, around her wrists. That's how you'll know."

"Bare wrists! Oooh, it sounds awfully embarrassing," she fretted. "But thank you for the help, sweetheart. I'm sure you'll get a hold of this Beanwarbler soon."

McRoary slammed the door behind them, hugging his arms around himself and shivering. "Hopps, we're gonna freeze our butts off here if you don't quit wasting time!"

"Wasting time?" Judy retorted. "I think the words you're looking for are, 'doing my job'. Bogo said to look for leads. That's what I'm doing."

McRoary rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, good work, Inspector Flops. Yeah, that wobbly old otter is definitely going to have Bellwether in her arthritic clutches next time we turn around, if she could see two feet past her nose."

Judy glared at him. "One," she held out a finger. "Do not ever call me Inspector Flops again, or I'll sick the internal review department on you."

He gave an exaggerated fake laugh. "For what? Huwting yew feewings?

Judy's mind flashed back momentarily, then snapped back to the present. Now where have I heard that before? "For being a world-class jerk." A sly smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "And for your little 'slip up' during the missing sardines case.'

McRoary froze. "You wouldn't."

She raised an eyebrow. "I would. I'm sure you know that statute 25-B requires me, as a fellow officer on that particular case, to report misconduct." She leaned on one hip. "I'm just doing my job. And two, we'll stay as long it takes, so you better get used to it. Let's go. Next village is a few minutes this way."

The region along the banks of the Polar Straight was populated by a few sparse groups of buildings that were generously referred to as villages. The cold air coming off the water cooled the region to uncomfortable temperatures, even by Tundratown standards. Task force two had split up into groups of two to comb the shores and ask inhabitants about any anti-predator activity, sightings of Bellwether, or unusual activity in general.

Could have been nine other officers, and I get McRoary. Of course.

The two padded through the fresh snow along a hilly section of the shore. Flakes drifted lazily from the gray sky, dusting the officers' shoulders. McRoary tugged his jacket tighter.

"So, you and Wilde cuffed yet?"

Judy shot him a withering look. "Absolutely none of your business. And no." She curled her lip. ""Let me guess: you're in on that stupid 'pool' too?"

McRoary grinned, his mouth full of teeth. "Oh, absolutely. And I'm on the earlier side, so if you two could quit playing 'will they, won't they', I'd be one step closer to getting a hot tub on my deck."

Judy gritted her teeth.

McRoary danced next to her. "Bunny and a fox, in the ZPD, K-I-S-S-I-N-"

"Will you shut up!" Judy burst. "Cheese and crackers, what are you, four years old?"

McRoary counted on his fingers. "Yes, me four years old! Me just little cub." He made a dopey face. "Rabbit and fox make smoochey, cub rake in big winnings!"

Judy flared her nose, her blood pressure rising into the stratosphere.

He scoffed, returning his gaze to the path ahead. "Sheesh. I mean, I thought it'd be doing you a favor."

I'm not going to bite, Judy told herself, scrunching up her face. I'm not going to bite.

"What?" Damn it, Jude.

McRoary gave her a sideways look. "You two were doing some serious spooning Saturday morning." He raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly 'friend-spooning'."

Judy's eyes widened in disbelief. "You looked in on us? After Clawhauser?"

He shrugged. "My house, my rules."

Judy's mouth opened, then shut it again, momentarily contrite. "I… didn't realize that was your house." She remembered the shattered lamp. "Uh… sorry about your lamp?" she said, wincing.

McRoary's expression went impassive. "Hopps, trust me, the broken lamp was pretty low on the list. It was an expensive night." He looked over at her again. "No defense for the spooning?"

Judy was tight lipped. She wished he would shut up. Because I don't have a defense for that.

"Hey, just calls 'em as I sees 'em," he breezed. "I believe you bunnies say, 'Roots below, carrots will grow?' Besides, you know, he's a good looking fox. And you're hot, so why not, right?"

Judy was done. "Real nice. Really eloquent. You should be in a poetry club or something."

As the pair crested a hill, the next village came into sight. It was especially spartan, with only a single storefront and a handful of cement homes. The pair entered the store, fur rippling in relief as they stepped into the heat. A charcoal-colored wolverine eyed them from behind the register.

"Oh, I seen 'em alright," he rasped in response to their questions. "Big ol' pack of 'em rolled right through. Those anti-pred types weren't happy about seein' my furry behind, but they needed supplies, and here I was."

Judy scribbled furiously in a notebook. "Okay, and who exactly was this? How did you know they were an anti-predator group?"

His eyes flashed. "I know anti-preds when I see them!" he glowered. "But they was on the move somewhere. And some sheep was in charge. Talked real sweet-like but I know better'na fall for that."

Judy and McRoary looked at each other. "Bellwether," they said together. McRoary leaned over the wolverine. "And, did they say where they were going?"

The wolverine gave him a dirty look. "Now why you think they would go an' tell me somethin' like that?" The officers' chests deflated. "But…" he muttered, Judy's ears perking up, "I did hear that sheep goin' on about the Nocturnal District… who in blazes knows why…"

"This is it!" Judy said, trembling with excitement. "This is what we need!" She dashed out the door into the cold air. "Thank you!" she shouted back.

Her hands dug through her pocket and retrieved her phone, thumbing #1 on speed dial. "Nick!" she exclaimed when he picked up on the second ring. "Meet me at service elevators to the Nocturnal district!"

"What? Carrots, listen, I've got a lead—"

"Me too!" Judy practically shouted into her phone. "You can tell me about it when we're there!"

Chapter Text

When Nick's Zuber pulled up to the curb, Judy was already waiting. The early evening light brushed up against the grungy maintenance station behind her, tucked into a remote corner of Savannah Central among old warehouses.

"Nick! Let's go!" He'd barely swung the door shut when she grabbed him by the arm and dashed into the dimly lit building, making a beeline for a hulking freight elevator and thumbing the call button.

Nick half-smiled, barely visible through the low light. "Clever bunny," he admitted. "Why fight through the crowds at Central Station when we can just sneak in through maintenance?"

Even in the dark, Nick's sensitive eyes could clearly make out the look of pride on Judy's face. "A good detective knows all the shortcuts." As they waited for the elevator, her foot starting tapping loudly against the floor.

"You know, a good detective also knows how to play it cool," Nick advised as the doors dinged open.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Judy muttered as she walked in.

The doors squeezed shut, and Nick felt his stomach shift as the elevator plunged downwards. "No, I'm serious." He crossed his arms. "I'm going to go out on a really fragile limb here and say you haven't spent much time in the Nocturnal District? I mean, in the parts of the Nocturnal District we're probably heading to?"

Judy held up a finger, then retracted it. "No," she replied quietly.

"Then I've got some advice." His tail swished behind him. "If you're a ball of nerves down there, every criminal in the district'll have sniffed you out by the time we walk out of the elevator." He grinned. "You gotta act like you belong, Carrots. Just think… what would Nick do?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, gods. What am I getting myself into?"

His grin widened. "Hey, you want to catch Bellwether, right? For once… we're doing it my way. And that means just us two." Judy started to protest, but Nick intercepted her. "We can order backup when we need it, but the last thing we need is a full blown police force storming through. Also," he gazed at her critically. "You've gotta look like you belong." Nick was in dark pants and a simple white collared shirt, which for him, was the equivalent of a tuxedo. She, however, was still in uniform. So clever, and yet… he thought to himself.

He crouched down next to her and unpinned her badge. "Not gonna need this," he said, handing it to her. He reached around her, his paws meeting high on her back.

"Hey, what are you—"

His paws fumbled briefly, then unclasped her dark protective vest. "Not gonna need this," he continued, tossing it into the corner of the elevator. His reached for her thigh holster, but she swatted his paw.

"Nick, I can get it, thank you." She pursed her lips tightly and bent over to unfasten her holster, making a heroic effort to fight the flush creeping into her fur. Nick retracted his hand awkwardly, and suddenly the freight elevator felt like entirely too small a space. Nick looked away and was grateful, not for the first time, that the shade of his fur rendered blushing nearly imperceptible.

She finished and dropped the holster, tranq-gun, and badge onto the growing pile in the corner. A few moments later, her utility belt and knee pads joined them. Without the accessories, she was left with a slim, cornflower blue top over her darker pants, the collar arching upward along the curvature of her neck. It looked, Nick thought, surprisingly elegant.

She looked down at herself doubtfully. "I look like an idiot."

"No, you don't," he said. "You look… nice."

It was quiet for a moment.

"Hey, so," Nick started.

Judy peered up at him, her eyes a pair of violet oceans. All the air was sucked out of the room.

He faltered. "Ah… so about my lead?"

Judy paused, then nodded. The unseen electric current that had run through the air flowed away, as if a breaker had been switched somewhere. Nick wondered if had she felt it too.

Get it together, Wilde, he berated himself. Not the time.

"Bellwether definitely went to the old serum cache, but she wasn't alone," he explained. "There was another set of tracks that went with. A pair of tracks that led right to hole straight into the earth." He put a finger to his mouth and pretended to think. "Now where have we seen something like that?"

Judy's whiskers twitched. "You… think it was Dom?"

Nick nodded, reaching into his pocket. His paw emerged with a tie that he snaked around his collar. "I double checked with HQ on the way. Nobody really picked up on it in the fray, but he made it out of The Pound too. Looks like he dug the both of them out." He frowned at the loose knot around his neck and started over.

A realization hit Judy. "Nick, do you think… do you think we were supposed to find Dom?" Her fur crawled. "Is… is this our fault?"

Nick shook his head vehemently. "No way we can know now, definitely no way we could've known then." He flicked one of her ears. "Head in the game, Carrots. We've got a job to do."

The elevator slowed its descent before coming to a stop. The doors slid open into another gloomy, abandoned maintenance facility. Nick could see just fine, but Judy pulled up the flashlight app, a beam of light from her phone carving a path towards the exit. The back door opened into foul-smelling alleyway between brick buildings. Multicolored light drifted in from an opening into the street at the end. "C'mon," Nick said, striding out of the alleyway into the Nocturnal District. "I've got a good idea of where to start."

—

The Nocturnal District was, for diurnal mammals, an acquired taste better suited to the occasional jaunt than long-term residency. When Zootopia was in its infancy, bursting outwards in every direction, a few shrewd engineers (who happened to be shrews) wondered why downwards shouldn't be included in the expansion. An expedition was organized to see whether or not it would structurally feasible to build underground.

To the burrowers' amazement, deep underneath the metropolis, yawning caverns already stretched for miles. The largest of these would become the heart of the Nocturnal District, although matrices of dusty tunnels and grottos laced outwards in every direction, and even at present day the zoning board admitted the true sprawl of the Nocturnal District was unknown.

There was no huge sun-lamp or equivalent built into the stalactite-dripped ceiling. Instead, much of the district was coated in murky light oozing from the muted neon signs in the streets. While Savannah Central was bright and modern, the Nocturnal District was dusky and old-fashioned, its brick buildings and cast-iron streetlights seemingly lifted from an old zoo-noir film or a Jack Savage detective flick. The residents and culture of the district embraced that anachronistic persona, socializing in smoky lounges and dressing in ties and pearls at the slightest provocation.

There was little surprise, then, that organized crime had a presence in the Nocturnal District. For them, it was like stepping back into a classic gangster movie.

Nick pushed open the door to the Prancing Pony pub, holding it open for Judy behind him. Inside, well-dressed mammals of all shapes and sizes were seated around various booths, their individual conversations drowned out by the din in the confined space. Just the way they like it, Nick thought. "Stick with me, Carrots. I've got everything under control," he said out of the corner of the mouth. Judy nodded, her wide eyes taking in the scene. Nick suppressed a smile. Not exactly the kind of place country bumpkins come after work.

He approached the bar. Judy sidled up next to him, barely able to see over counter. "Vinny, buddy, how've you been?" The bartender, a black bear in a sharp suit, continued washing a glass without looking up. Nick's face fell slightly. "…How's the family? Little Joey still playing little league?" The bear glowered at him, eyes narrowed to slits. He lumbered over to Nick, leaning on the bar.

Even slouched over, he still towered over Nick. "What?" he said.

Nick put on a hurt expression. "…Was it something I said?"

Vinny's fingers drummed on the countertop, his claws making a ticking sound on the ornate wood. "Word makes its way down. You're playin' for the other team now." He growled deep in his throat. "A couple words from me, you leave this place in pieces. You and your stuffed animal down there." Judy shrank below the counter, her ears tucked behind her head. She kicked Nick in the shin.

Oh. Right. The whole 'cop' thing.

"C'mon, Vinny, buddy," he schmoozed, voice brimming with confidence he wished he felt, "I think we both know you're not going to do that." He gave a cheesy grin.

Vinny's growl dropped into his chest, doubling in volume.

Nick's grin disappeared like a rabbit down a hole and he winced, partially because Judy actually bit him on the leg this time. He glanced down and saw her stare shooting daggers. She mouthed something, but he couldn't tell if it was 'please tell me this is a terrible joke' or 'you're going to get us killed you stupid fox' or 'i don't want to die on the set of some Al Pawchino movie.' Maybe it was all three.

Nick racked his brain, feeling the blood pumping in his head. "Okay, look, I'm sorry. My bad on the whole cop thing. Really. It wasn't personal." He took a breath. "But… it's about finding Bellwether. It has to do with the whole predator thing.

Vinny's grimace shrank. Nick sensed an opening.

"One pred to another," he implored, "You know what she's capable of. I just want to find her. And to do that, I need," he reached into a pocket and slid a picture of Dom across the countertop, "to know if anybody's seen this naked mole rat. They're connected. He busted her out."

Vinny looked the picture, then back at him. Without breaking eye contact, he peeled the photo off the moist countertop, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into a trashcan. Nick's heart sank.

"…Yeah, he's been through," Vinny muttered. Nick's heart soared. Judy was still ducked below the counter, but one of her ears slowly flapped back up, rising into view. "Earlier today. By himself though. No Bellwether." Vinny held up a finger, and moved across the bar to fix a patron with a drink. With deft paws, he mixed bourbon, bitters, a spit of water, and a sugar cube into a lowball and slid it towards the panther, who purred in response.

"Didn't hear much. But he did say something… strange." The bear lowered his voice. "When I fixed his drink, I splashed a little water in, cut the Scotch, like normal." He tilted his head. "And the little guy laughs and tells me, 'if I were you, I'd start mixing that without the water.' Then he leaves."

Vinny's eyes tracked a new group of patrons approaching the bar. "Now I think you should go. Before someone makes a mess." He punctuated his sentence with loud crack of his neck, followed by a number of smaller cracks of his knuckles. "

I'd say that's our cue, Nick thought, wisely foregoing any parting quips. "Thanks Vinny. You won't see me again," he said, spinning on his heels and walking briskly towards the door, Judy at his side.

Once they were out front, Judy crossed her arms and smirked. "Yeah, you're really in your element down here. You're practically family."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Everyone's a critic. Let me guess, Vinny would've just sung like a bird if you'd been the one asking the questions."

"Welllll… two of us here," Judy counted on her fingers, "But only one is actually a member of a mob family. Huh. Look at that."

"Oh, come on, godmother doesn't count." Even with his nerves shot, she drew a smile out of him. "We've got a new clue, we're both in one piece." He straightened his tie. "I believe the phrase you're searching for is, 'job well done'"?

Judy shook her head. "You're unbelievable."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't!"

"Well, it sure sounded like one."

Judy bared her teeth. "Don't make take another chunk out of you." She clapped her hands together. "So… what now?"

Good point. Nick glanced at his watch; it was easy to lose track of time in a district with no sun. Sure enough, it was nearly midnight, and sleepiness was dragging at Nick's eyelids. He frowned. "We need somewhere to think this through. And I need a coffee."

Judy nodded, looking back the way they'd come. "I saw a café on the way here." She paused. "…Sorry about your leg, by the way."

He rubbed the spot where Judy's teeth had sunk into his knee and felt a set of indentations. "Pretty savage for a bunny." What do bunnies need teeth that sharp for anyway? Carrots? "How'd I taste?"

She thought for a moment, her nose twitching. "Actually, not as bad as I would have thought!" She giggled. "Maybe there's something to this predator thing after all."

Nick's subconscious sputtered up a litany of entirely unhelpful things to say about Judy having his permission to bite him again, or maybe how good she might taste. Nope. Nuh-uh. He punted instead, letting the conversation die and as they walked along the sidewalk, the light migrating across their faces as the streetlights came and went.

—

Judy slid into the booth across from Nick, handing him a steaming cup of coffee before taking a sip out of her own. He accepted it with a grateful look and took a long swig.

Judy almost never drank coffee. Bunnies brimmed with energy by nature, and Judy was a go-getter even by her species' standards. But she'd been up for nearly twenty-four hours since hearing about Bellwether's escape, and she'd been on her feet for most of them. Her legs were aching and her ears were drooping, but there was no way she could rest now. Not when they had a case to crack.

Nick, on the other hand, ran on coffee. I don't think I've ever seen Nick in the bullpen without a Snarlbucks cup . She absentmindedly noted that she should buy him a mug. It would be more sustainable, and it would be a nice thing to do.

"So… we know Bellwether came down here. We know there's something important here." Judy cupped the paper cup in her paws, savoring the feeling of warmth on her fur. "We know Dom's in on it. And… it has something to do with water?"

Nick sucked down more of his coffee. "Maybe Dom just thought Vinny mixes weak cocktails."

Judy considered it. "Then why would he have even mentioned it?"

Nick pulled an arm over the back of the booth seat, leaning backward and gazing out the window. Judy bit her lip, trying to come up with something, anything, but she was drawing blanks. We just don't have enough information. "Maybe we should call for backup," she offered.

Nick, still staring out the window, shook his head.

She sighed, rubbing her neck. Her body felt too light without the familiar weight of her sidearm and protective vest; she felt naked without them. Across the table, Nick looked… dapper. Although he wore a shirt and tie all the time, it was usually an unwashed Hawaiian and an expertly matched tie. The white tie and red patterned tie were a refreshingly clean and un-sarcastic ensemble. The pattern on the tie caught her eye, and she peered closer. Blueberries. Of course.

She reached for her case notes journal at her waist to document the investigation thus far, only to come away empty-handed. The small, carrot-covered moleskin notebook was safely stashed in her utility belt, back in the corner of the maintenance elevator. She exhaled in frustration.

Nick glanced over. "What?"

"It's nothing," Judy muttered. "I don't have my case notes journal."

Nick finished his coffee, spinning the empty cup on the stained tabletop. "Do you think there's something in there we could use?"

I was just going to take notes… I hadn't even thought of that. Judy's mind wandered back to her recent cases, trying to think of where Bellwether could possibly fit in. She dwelled on Dom's arrest for a while, but she couldn't think of a way that catnip could fit into water and the Nocturnal District. Eventually, her mental travels took her back to the water-contamination case she'd cracked with Sampson in the Meadowland District. Halfway there… it's got everything to do with water but nothing to do with… wait!

She grabbed his paw, making him leap in his chair. "Nick! I've got it!"

"Got whuuh!" His sentence trailed off as she dragged him out of the booth towards the door.

"When I worked on the water contamination case we had to send a case file to the Zootopia waterworks main hub!" She said breathlessly. "I remember looking through the public works directory! The main hub's in Savannah Central, but there's a filtering station down here, by the old construction projects!"

—

Judy's fitbit read a quarter past one AM when the pair stepped out of another Zuber on the outskirts of the Nocturnal District. Before them, past a waist-length chainlink fence, stood a graveyard of abandoned structures in varying states of decay, the remnants of an overly ambitious developer that bit off more than they could chew. Scaffolding still crept up the walls of some of the buildings, and exposed metal latticeworks stretched up out of crumbling walls to support floors that would never be built. The ground was unpaved, the dry earth littered debris. The whole compound seemed like it was waiting for a slight breeze to crumble into a cloud of dust.

Nick dusted off a sign pinned to the fence fence.

ZOOTOPIA PUBLIC WORKS SITE 0017A

"Translation?" Nick asked.

Judy pointed to her right. "This way."

The pair proceeded along the perimeter of the area in the direction of the arrow. Without streetlights, it was eerily dark. At the edge of the fence, a fully finished stone building came into view; the structure was in better condition than its neighbors, but only barely. Lights shined through a scattering of windows. Judy's pulse quickened. "This has to be the place," she said.

Nick looked around. "Um… notice anything missing here?"

"What?"

"Lights are on. But," he gestured at the surrounding area with a paw, "who's home? I don't see any cars parked anywhere."

She furrowed her brow, tugging at a sleeve. "The only people who would be here are maintenance workers… but you're right, I don't see any trucks."

"Maybe they just forgot to turn them off when they left?" Nick offered weakly. From their expressions, it was clear that neither of them were buying it. The pair hopped over the fence (well, one of them hopped and one of them just clambered) and cautiously approached the door to the building. It was silent except for their footsteps, muted by the soft ground.

Judy's paw went reflexively for her thigh holster. "Oooh, cheese and crackers, I hate being unarmed."

Nick couldn't help himself. "Unarmed?" He motioned at her mouth. "Carrots, those teeth are deadly weapons."

Even in the middle of a mission… She muttered something about foxes under her breath.

"I mean, do they even let you take those things on airplanes?"

"Nick!" she whispered, stifling a laugh. "Focus!"

His grin subsided as she tested the door. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. She started to pull it open, but Nick grabbed her hand. "Wait!" he hissed. Her hand retracted from the handle. He pushed her back a step, and grabbed it himself. "Me first."

He peeled the door open inch by inch, revealing a small, mostly empty first floor. A few desks were scattered around, and a handful of lockers lined one wall. Cobwebs hung in the corners. At the back, light poured up from a stairwell leading downwards.

The pair exchanged a look and crept towards the stairwell. Step by step, they descended to the basement.

The stairs opened onto a long catwalk that stretched the length of the cavernous sub-level. It dwarfed the footprint building's first floor by orders of magnitude. The catwalk, made of corrugated metal, was suspended from the ceiling by wires. Perhaps twenty feet below, a maze of pumps and pipes curled in and out of the floor like tunneling earthworms. The sound of rushing water, echoing off the stone walls, was deafening. Huge industrial lights in the ceiling were decades past their replacement date, casting a pallid half-light over the space.

"Woah," Nick said, leaning over the railing as they walked. "That's… a lot of water."

Judy's eyes fixed on one area that was sealed off from the rest by a grated steel cage, about half the size of the ZPD bullpen. "C'mon," she said, pointing a finger. Nick nodded, moving towards a stairway that stretched down to the ground floor. Their footsteps clinked on the metal as they descended.

On the ground, the noise was even louder. Judy read a sign on the cage exterior. "Primary control hub. Authorized personnel only."

Nick slid an old deadbolt and pulled open the door. "Well, look at that. I'd say we're authorized."

Inside, a sprawling control panel littered with switches and valves hulked next to a massive pipe that ran parallel to the floor. Judy, looking closer, tilted her head in confusion. "Nick…" He looked over from the control panel. "Is this… supposed to be like this?"

A footlong section of the iron pipe had been sawed open, exposing furiously flowing water inside. "I don't know," Nick said, hesitating. "I don't think so. Why isn't there anybody here?" He itched at his arm. "I feel like there should be people here."

Judy looked from the the pipe to the fox next to her. You're right. Something's wrong. Her instincts were screaming at her, and her muscles were tensing up. "I don't like it. Let's get out of here, come back with backup, and somebody who works here, and—"

The metallic slam of a door and the horrible, grating sound of a rusted deadbolt sliding shut cut her off.

"Well, would you look at that! Fancy seeing you two here!"

Judy's heart nearly exploded out of her chest. Bellwether was on the other side of the cage, behind the locked entrance. Nick's lips curled in instinctive ferocity and he leapt forward, clawing at the door. It didn't budge, and Bellwether didn't flinch. Judy eyes raced across the interior of the cage, looking for another door. It was no use. They were trapped.

"Just what I'd expect from a savage predator," she hissed at Nick. There was only a foot of space between them, but it may as well have been a canyon. "But you, Judy…" her eyes narrowed to slits. "You were supposed to be one of us. You sent me to prison for trying to stick up for us! For the little guy!"

Judy balled up her fists. "'Stick up for the little guy'? Is that what you call turning half the city's mammals insane? Turning them against their friends? Their family?"

Bellwether rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Jude, keep up. It's only 10% of the city, not half. Sheesh," she clucked. "But otherwise… yes! That's exactly what I mean by 'up for the little guy.'"

Nick was still right up against the door, his claws dragging along the metallic cage. "Well, newsflash," he growled, "you can hate me as bad as you want, but you blew your chance."

"Oh, did I?" Bellwether put a paw over her mouth in mock horror. "Oh, gosh, you're right! I… I think I'll turn myself in. Take me away!" she finished with a dramatic flourish, holding her hands out as if to be cuffed. She snorted. "By the time I'm finished," her visage darkened, "every predator in this city will be exposed for the savages they are." She pointed a paw at Nick. "And you're going to be first."

Judy bristled. "You're not doing anything to Ni—"

"Shut up!" Bellwether screeched. "If I hear one more insipid word out of your cute little mouth, I'll go insane." She was breathing heavily. "This beast," she gestured at Nick, "should have killed you back in the natural history museum."

"But you know something Judy?" Her mouth twisted into a sinister grin. "Sooner or later, I always get what I want." Her paw dug into her jacket and emerged with a tranq gun. Judy heard Nick's breath hitch, and he backed away from Bellwether, one paw burrowing into his pocket. Her other paw lazily loaded a full clip of blue, gumball sized orbs into it and trained it on him. It was the Nighthowler serum.

Judy gripped his arm tightly. It was shaking.

She sneered at Bellwether, too angry and full of adrenaline to be afraid. "That won't work," she spat. "You failed, Bellwether. Nick's got the vaccine. Everyone has the vaccine. It's over. There's nowhere for you to go except back to prison, where you belong."

Bellwether laughed, a tinkling, sickly-sweet sound that pierced the clamor of flowing water. "Oh, yes, the treatment. Yes, I read all about the vaccination."

Crack.

Inky blue liquid splattered across Nick's chest. Judy's body recoiled as if she herself had been hit.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

"Vaccinate that," Bellwether snarled.

Suddenly, everything went silent for Judy. The roaring water, Bellwether's laughter, the pumping of blood in her temples, it felt ten feet, then a hundred feet, then a mile away. Her brain tried to process the image in front of her: cobalt stains dripping from Nick's dapper white shirt, seeping into his fur. His eyes staring into hers in terror, in pleading.

She saw the muscles in his neck strain as he tried with every fiber of his being to resist what was coming over him. The vaccine toiled inside him, but it was no match for the sheer amount of Nighthowler swimming in his veins. His body convulsed, he fell to the ground, writhing in pain, and when he was finally still, his emerald eyes left no hint of the Nick she knew.

She was paralyzed with fear. Not even for herself, but… for everything. For Nick, who was so good and finally had a chance to be happy only to have it torn from his grasp just like it had been so many times before. And for them: she realized she truly couldn't begin to imagine her life without her closest companion, the fox that teased her and infuriated her and knew her better than her own parents and could make her laugh until her stomach hurt on the worst day of her life. The thought, the primal terror of losing what she knew deep down was the best thing in her life, the thing that she held closer than her badge or even the city of Zootopia itself, clawed hotly at her gut. She barely felt it as Nick knocked her to the ground, her head slamming against the concrete.

Snap out of it! She berated herself. She tried, but she couldn't move a muscle. Nick slowly padded towards her. It felt like her limbs were coated in lead. He crawled on top of her, his snarling maw inches away from her face. She felt his saliva dripping on her shirt. Come on, Judy! She felt his hot breath on her cheeks. Do something! She squeezed her eyes shut. Do anything!

So she leaned up and kissed him.

It wasn't perfect. It was extremely sloppy, actually, and a bit gross; her lips sort of brushed up against the slimy top row of his teeth and barely caught his upper lip. But it didn't matter. It moved mountains, it carved continents, and she felt a pure, shimmering note leap from the finest gossamers of her heart.

For a second, everything was still. She pulled back.

He rolled off her, his shuddering limbs splayed out on the cold ground and beads of sweat forming all over his body. Judy rushed to his side, but as soon as she hovered over him, his eyes flashed the he swiped a claw at her, inches from raking her cheek.

Come on. I know you're in there! With a struggle, she seized his shaking arms and managed to pin them to the ground on either side of his head. His jaw snapped shut, keening like wounded animal, confused and afraid. "Nick!" she said, almost a prayer. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. "Come back. Please."

She felt the heat and the gritty dirt on his fur. The shivers racking his body slowed and then disappeared, and he went limp beneath her. Judy's breath caught in her chest. Then his eyes opened, mere inches from hers. In an instant, she knew he was back.

"Mmph," he said as she hovered over him. "Hey there, stranger."

Judy's face scrunched up, and tears were already streaming down her face before she collapsed onto him, pinned him to the ground in an exhausted hug. "Oh… you… bunnies," he wheezed, her weight crushing his windpipe. "So… emo…tional…"

"Oh shut up," she sniffed, her face buried in the crooked of his neck, tears flowing down his collarbone. "For once."

Outside the cage, Bellwether looked in disgust until a cacophony of shouting echoed through the sub-level. She whipped her head around to see Bogo leading a SWAT squad onto the metal catwalk above. Hissing to herself, Bellwether slithered away, unseen by Nick and Judy.

A few moments later, Judy slipped back into the real world and noticed the tactical team above them. "Hey!" she shouted. "Down here!" She stood up and started to walk towards the edge of the container.

"Wait! Carrots!" Nick hopped up and grabbed her by the arm. "I… I think I feel it coming on again."

Her ears twitched in confusion. "What?!"

He rubbed his forehead. "Errr… Okay, that was lame. Sorry. Here goes."

He wrapped an arm around her neck, swept her up off her feet, and pulled her into a kiss. Judy didn't even have time to close her eyes.

"OH YEAH! BABY'S GETTIN' A NEW PAIR OF SHOES!" howled McRoary in the background, pumping his fists in full SWAT gear.

She dangled up there in his arms, feet brushing against the ground, for a long moment before he set her down. He smacked his lips, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Much better." He turned to the ZPD SWAT contingent up on the catwalk. "Well, jeez, took you long enough!" He reached into his pocket and removed a cell phone, the screen displaying a still-on-the-line-call to Bogo. "What are you waiting for? We've got a criminal mastermind to catch! Chop chop, let's go!"

A/N: The drama, the pathos... the sappy romance. Nick and Judy finally getting together has kind of been my white whale, at least managing it in a way that wasn't too cheesy. It's tough. Let me know how I did!

Chapter Text

Nick and Judy bounced next to each other in the back of the SWAT van as it bounded through the streets of Savannah Central at breakneck speed. Across from them, chief Bogo and officer Wolford were huddled over a tactical laptop that looked humorously toylike in Bogo's massive lap. Four other ZPD specialists in full gear were stuffed in at the edges.

Wolford nodded into a cellphone before snapping it shut. "Chief, everything's clear on the homefront. Team 3 says that there've been no security disturbances outside some mild panic about Bellwether running loose."

Everyone in the back suddenly went sprawling as the van careened through a tight curve without slowing. Judy went flying into Nick's lap, and barely had enough time to realize what was happening before Bogo tumbled over and crushed them both.

Wolfed chuckled. "Hey, Bogo, how about you quit third wheeling over there?"

Bogo picked himself up off his pancaked officers, grumbling to himself. He glared at the pair. "That reminds me. If you two get all…" he straightening his shirt and realigned his badge, "affectionate, don't think I won't transfer one of you so fast your tails will spin."

Judy leapt off Nick's lap, sitting up straight as an arrow. "Sir," she earnestly. "We wouldn't, I mean, we haven't even talked about," she looked over at Nick, who was chuckling behind a paw. "That would be highly unprofessional."

Nick casually draped an arm across Judy's shoulder. "Yeah, c'mon chief, I mean, that'd be really unprofessional." Judy swatted his hand and gave him a withering look that dissipated some when she saw his childlike expression.

Bogo growled deep in his throat. McRoary's voice sounded from up front in the driver's seat. "Hey, chief-o! You're pretty worked up for someone who bet on them hooking up. You sure you're just not mad about losing to yours truly in the pool?"

Bogo stuttered in indignation. "That is—I don't—" He stamped a hoof. "That is hardly relevant Officer McRoary!" He stormed up to the driver's seat. "And will you slow down before you kill us? We don't even know where we're going!"

McRoary slammed on the brake, sending the van screeching to a halt and sending everyone inside who wasn't buckled in flying again. "Oh yeah, that reminds me!" McRoary dug through the glove compartment and tossed a thick manual into the back in Nick and Judy's direction. "Read up! No smoochin' on the job, kiddies."

The cover was dominated by a stunningly attractive pair of tigers, male and female, standing next to one another in a scenic park with their paws on their hips. Over their heads, in bold letters, read: "So You're Dating Your Partner: Official ZPD Handbook for Public Displays of Affection and Appropriate Intermammal Conduct."

As the rest of the van shouted at McRoary and forcefully removed him from the driver's seat, Judy cast a glance about and quietly picked the weighty handbook up off the ground, flipping through the first pages and studying them with wide eyes. Next to her, Nick detached from the conversation and leaned his head on her shoulder, reading next to her. Judy's gaze flickered over. "Can't quite read it from over there?"

"Eyesight's just not what it used to be," he sighed, even though they both knew vision was twice as sharp as Judy's.

She shook her head with a hint of a smile, but returned to poring over the text in front of them. A few moments later, she reached a paw over and scratched at the fur behind one of Nick's ears without looking up, earning a faint, low purr of contentment.

"Okay!" Bogo announced, clasping his hooves together as the ruckus died down. The pair instantly disentangled themselves and gave the chief looks of rapt attention. Judy haphazardly tucked the book under her on the seat and sat on it. He keyed a few numbers into a pad on the wall and a screen on the back door suddenly lit up with the face of a beaver in a hardhat behind a gruesomely chewed-up desk. Behind him, a faded ZPD Public Works logo was painted on the wall. "Theodore, go. What do you have for us?"

The beaver spat out a few chunks of wood that were part of his desk a few moments prior. "I did some back checks on that filter station; you said 0017A?" Judy nodded. "Mmm, see, that's no normal filtering station. Since more and more of our water's being sourced from the deep-earth wells beneath the Nocturnal District, that's become the most important node in the entire network. " He adjusted his hardhat. "If the whole waterworks system's the heart, then that station's the aorta. Effectively, every drop of water that Zootopians use is being routed through that hub."

Comprehension played across the chief's face. "So… if you wanted to distribute something to the population…"

The beaver nodded, his tail slapping the back of his chair. "Then that'd be the place."

Bogo rubbed at his temple. "That will be all, Theo," he said, shutting off the screen with another button on the wall.

The van was silent, even McRoary. Nick spoke up, and suddenly all eyes were on him. "She's got to be trying to manufacture more of the serum." He shuddered. "If she had enough of it, she could dose every predator in the city without even needing to get near them. Just dump it in that hub, then sit back and watch as the city rips itself to shreds. AND," he continued, "She already had enough of it just hanging around in her pockets to dose me, even with the vaccine."

Bogo turned his gaze to a dark-muzzled German Shepherd to his right. "Officer Custer?"

Custer, SWAT's narcotics specialist and the department's best sniffer, licked his chops. "Not sure. The way she dosed Wilde," he nodded at the fox, "it worked, but it's not… economical. What, six, seven servings just to crack a fox? You'd need a crate to drop someone like the chief." He tugged at his helmet. "Nah, if I were her, I'd find a lab to tweak the formula, get past the vaccine. A little more work on the front end but if you could jack up the effectiveness too, you'd be setting yourself up for a much easier job down the line. Not only that, but the raw plant affected predators and prey indiscriminately. She'd have to refocus the compound, maybe act on pred-specific genes or tags."

"So… what lab?" Judy wondered aloud.

Custer sniffed at the air. "Furrck Phamarceutical's finished a state-of-the-art lab underneath their corporate HQ in Savannah Central last month." His eyes narrowed. "Y'know, CEO's that asshole Martin Sheepkreli, got into hot water with price manipulation a few months back? Sleazeball would do anything for a wad of cash, and I'll bet Bellwether promised him a boatload."

Bogo nodded at Wolford, who had ousted McRoary as the van driver. With a screech of tires, they tore off towards the heart of Savannah Central.

—

Furrck's headquarters were an iconic part of the Zootopia skyline. The distinctive skyscraper, sunbeams perpetually reflecting off its all-glass walls, wrapped upwards in a semi-helical, almost tentacle-like shape. At one seventy-six floors, it held its own as the fourth tallest building in Zootopia, behind the Lotus building and the glimmering Symbiote Towers. Furrck pharmaceuticals founder, a benevolent and fiercely intelligent ragamuffin feline named Rosalind Kibbler, had been heavily involved in the building project, specifying the shape and even the number of floors as reflections of her trade (officially, the building's name was the '4N Center', a reference to the chromosomal composition of felines).

Since Rosalind's retirement, Furrck had been bought out by the controversial Martin Sheepkreli. Few argued that the sheep wasn't a brilliant scientist, and many of the chemical innovations developed under his watchful eye had improved the lives of countless mammals. Even fewer argued that the CEO wasn't a ruthless, shameless businessheep that wouldn't sell his medicine to a dying kit if he was a few cents short of the asking price.

A block away, and twenty feet below street level, Nick and Judy trudged through the sewers, guided by the beams of their flashlights.

"You know, I really think the glory is what attracted me to the force," Nick said, frowning at his mud-caked boots and trying to shake some of it off.

Judy punched him in the ribs without breaking pace, her eyes focused on the path ahead of them.

Zootopia's sewer tunnels were circular in shape, with the flow of refuse forming a river at the bottom and service walkways elevated a few feet above the flowing current. The tunnel had a radius of perhaps ten feet, and the walkway they shared was barely large enough for the pair to walk side by side.

The pair had traded their civilian clothes for state-of-the-art matte black field gear: Judy sported a lightweight flak vest with 'ZPD SF' emblazoned in blocky yellow letters, as well as dark, hard polymer protective pads on her elbows and knees. A precision tranq-pistol hung in a holster at her thigh, and a taser rested in a small utility belt around her waste. Nick's flak jacket was heavier, and a tranq-rifle hung from a clip on his back. Both sported tightly strapped helmets with fisheye cameras transmitting grainy feeds back to HQ.

"Focus, hotshot," she said. "And try not to say anything incriminating, these helmets are wired for sound."

"So…" Nick mused, "you think now isn't a good time for me to talk about the way I feel when you enter the room, the way my heart aches for you when we're apart and dances when you return, my bunny-lass, oh my most perfect sunflower?" He mimicked a swoon, throwing a hand across his forehead.

Judy rolled her eyes. "Then again, what incriminating things have you not already said in front of the whole force?"

Nick nodded sagely. "And I mean, half the force did catch us making out at the waterworks, so I don't really—YOWCH!" He cradled his tail in his hands, rubbing the section where Judy had stomped a combat boot.

"Whoops," she said, a tiny smirk forming despite herself, "Dark down here. Sorry about that."

Nick wasn't even supposed to be on the mission. At the staging grounds, there had been significant debate about how to proceed; some officers advocated for simply storming the building, getting down to the lab as quickly as possible and apprehending Bellwether. Bogo had counciled precaution. "The second we step through those doors in uniform with combat gear, Bellwether will be gone, along with as much evidence as she and whoever is with her can carry."

He had advocated for a small team to infiltrate the facility first and confirm Bellwether's location (if she was there at all), provide layout details, and ensure, if possible, that Bellwether not escape when the raid took place. ZPD logistics mapped the sewers leading to the Furrck sub-basement, but the entry tunnels were far too small for most of the normal SWAT members to squeeze through. Zootopia's first rabbit officer proved an indispensable asset once again, but Nick had flat-out refused to allow her to go alone. Bogo informed him in a dangerous tone of voice that the force was not a democracy and he frankly didn't care what the most junior officer on the force thought of the operation.

Custer, however, had piped up to the contrary; two noses were better than one and Nick was the only other officer compact enough to fit through the inner access tunnel. After a great deal of arguing, Bogo relented, but not before warning the fox and bunny pair that they were to follow orders issued to the letter and that they were both inexperienced tactical officers and that the command team knew best. And, he added grudgingly, good luck, and that backup was ready to kick in the front doors at their signal.

A few minutes later, the pair came to a ladder, its metal rungs emerging from the curved stone wall, that led upwards into a cramped tunnel that had been bored through the ceiling. Nick blanched. "That's going to be tight."

Judy nodded, taking her flashlight into her mouth and grabbing the first rung. "Dash de point," she mumbled around the flashlight. Nick shuddered and tentatively climbed after her. He had to tuck his shoulders into the body to fit through the opening, and with each move, he felt his hips grind against the metal walls. Frigid water trickled down the edges of the walls, flowing onto his coat and leaving the handholds slick and cold. Thankfully, the tunnel was only about ten feet in length, and a few moments later, Judy had unscrewed a cover on the top and the pair climbed out silently.

They were crouched underneath a stairwell, a dark corner of an otherwise harshly bright laboratory room. Mammals in white coats were bent over a number of workspaces, busying themselves with combining ingredients, loading centrifuges, and recording results. The room buzzed with the sound of clinking beakers and hushed, excited tones. The stairwell above them led up to a balcony that encircled the space.

Nick tapped her shoulder. "Carrots, you notice anything?" he whispered.

Judy glanced over.

"Not seeing a lot of, uh, workplace diversity here."

Judy scanned the rectangular room. Her partner was right. There were mammals of every shape and size but not every classification; there was a conspicuous absence of any predators. She keyed into her mic. "Command, you getting the stream?"

Bogo's voice sounded in her ear. "Affirmative, Hopps." He paused. "Can you see anything definitive? Just looks like a normal lab on our end."

"Yeah, but no predators," she replied.

A pause. "That's not enough. Keep looking. And can you confirm a location?"

She squinted around the walls, looking for some sort of title or marker. "Not yet."

Judy thumbed off her mic. The chief was right. She looked at Nick, eyes narrowed beneath her hard plastic helmet. He mimicked grabbing something and running using hand signals. She shook her head. Even if they could get their hands on something, getting out with it was another story. The only door in view was across the room, impossible to reach without crossing the length of the busy room, and two officers in jet black SWAT gear weren't likely to blend in with the lab's sterile, egg-white color palette.

They were stuck. She had to make a concerted effort to keep her foot from tapping on the floor and attracting attention.

She felt a paw rooting around in her back pocket. She twisted around to smack Nick upside the head, but he'd pulled away with her phone in his paw and a mischievous grin on his muzzle. Holding a finger to his lips, he poked out from under the stairwell and slid her phone across the floor into a corner of the room. She held her breath, but none of the workers noticed.

"What are you doing!" she hissed at him.

He pulled out his own phone, thumbing number one on speed dial. "Carrots, didn't I warn about keeping your ringtone at full-blast? Sooner or later, it's going to go off somewhere inappropriate."

A moment later, Judy's phone screen lit up across the room and the overproduced voices of the Backstreet Bunnies blared through the lab, cutting through the din. The scientists paused their work, looked at each other, and burst into laughter, searching for the source of the sudden distraction. A few, including the vole at the workstation closest to Nick and Judy, padded off to the corner to investigate.

"C'mon!" Nick grabbed her by the paw, dashing out from their cover, swiping a handful of test tubes, and sprinting up the staircase onto the balcony just as the music shut off and the scientists realized, with some confusion, that the phone belonged to none of them. Judy and Nick crouched down, their backs against a waist-high solid plastic railing that shielded them from view.

"Bogo, come in," Judy whispered as Nick tucked the vials into one of the pouches on his chest.

"Go," his voice sounded in her head.

"We've got… something. We're looking for a way out to get it to you for analysis."

"Copy," he responded, "Be careful, Hopps. If anything goes wrong, we're at the ready."

Before Judy could respond, an elevator dinged around the corner. She and Nick froze as two pairs of footsteps approached.

Their conversation came into focus as they drew nearer. "You'd be shocked how easy it is to bypass that sort of thing. We're seventy percent of the way there: we've already got several promising isomers."

Then, a familiar voice sent Nick and Judy reeling. "That's just what I wanted to hear, Martin," Bellwether cooed. "You've been such a help. I knew I could count on you."

Judy reached up and pressed the panic button on the side of her helmet. The footsteps were just a few feet away. They would round the corner in a few moments. Beside her, Nick unclipped his rifle quietly flicked off the safety. Judy drew her sidearm. He gave her a 'now or never' look. She nodded and held up three fingers. Two… One…

"ZPD! Freeze!" They shouted in unison as they leapt out from their cover, training their weapons on the surprised pair of sheep. Nick's paw squeezed the trigger, but Bellwether recovered too quickly. With a snarl, she pulled Sheepkreli in front of her. The dart sank into his ample frame, and Bellwether kicked his teetering body forward, sending him bowling towards Nick and Judy. Below, the lab had descended into bedlam, with scientists clutching stacks of paper and precious beakers while dashing for the exit.

Nick shoved the now-snoring ewe off of them just in time to see Bellwether disappear down a hallway. Judy glanced down at the lab in chaos, but Nick grabbed her arm. "Backup'll be here in minutes, and the lab isn't going anywhere." He flared his nostrils. "But that fluffball is not getting away again. C'mon!"

They sprinted after Bellwether, only to catch a glimpse of her as she turned the corner at the end of the long hallway. As they barreled around the corner, the were faced with a series of doors on each side of the hallway, and a dead end.

"This place… is like a gerbil maze," Nick panted, hands on his knees. "Which way?"

Judy's mind raced. They all looked the same, opaque glass doors with esoteric, scientific labels.

"Carrots!" Nick pointed at the ground, still doubled over. A thin trail of wool led towards a door on the right. "For someone so obsessed with biology, it's not doing her any favors."

Weapons at the ready, they pushed open the door. Nick felt around on the wall and flicked a light switch. They were on another balcony, this time above a swirling vat of viscous, azure liquid. Nick's fur instantly bristled. This room was much smaller, and the only entrance was the one they'd come through.

Judy gave a low whistle. "That's… a lot of minicampum holicithias."

Nick frowned at her. "Show off." He started cautiously making his way around the balcony, a finger resting on his rifle's trigger. "C'mon out, Bellwether," he called. "We know you're here." The cacophony of the SWAT team thundering through the lab flowed in from the hallway. "I promise not hit you with this fancy taser they gave me." He reconsidered, a paw drifting to the 50,000 volt taser on his belt. "Well, Judy said she promised.. kind of a fifty-fifty ball for me, actually…"

"Why does everyone have to ruin everything!"

Their heads spun towards the source. Across the room, Bellwether was standing on the railing, glowering at them. Nick raised his rifle and took aim, but Judy quickly put a paw on his barrel and shoved it down. "What are you doing?"

"Nick, look," she said, without taking her gaze off Bellwether. The railing was barely the width of Bellwether's feet. Below her, the vat of Nighthowler bubbled.

He nodded slowly, setting the rifle down. "Alright, Bellwether," he called. "get down from there. Come on, you're not all— well, you're not a total—I mean, at least—" He turned to Judy. "Yeah, I'm not going to be much help here,"

"Bellwether," Judy called, "come on. Nobody has to get hurt."

On the railing, Bellwether seethed. "All my life, nobody would take a little ewe seriously, and I just wanted to prove everyone wrong and stick up for myself, for the little guy, just once! Fix this city, for the prey, for the majority, the way it's supposed to be!" She swayed, then caught her balance. "Is that so wrong!" she shrieked.

"Maybe if you didn't go psycho and try to get me to eat this very cute bunny twice in the process, things would have gone better? That one ever cross your mind?" Nick shot back.

To his surprise, tears starting flowing from her eyes, slowly at first, then a pair of rivulets falling from her face into the vat, evaporating with a cascade of sizzles. "Maybe then they would understand what it feels like to be helpless before another mammal," she sniffed.

"And you!" She bellowed, turning her fury on him. "You stupid, ignorant, mindless—" her tirade cut out abruptly as a tranq dart embedded itself in her neck. Her mouth kept working but no sound came out.

Judy turned to Nick in shock, but he was empty handed. In the open doorway, Wolford was crouched with tranq rifle nestled into the crook of his shoulder. He slowly lowered the barrel, eyes widening as he realized the consequences of his action. On the railing, Bellwether's eyes rolled back into her head. Her body teetered once, then twice, then pitched forward over the railing in slow motion.

Judy was already sprinting to Bellwether's side of the room, Nick on her heels. "No, you, don't!" She dived off the railing, catching Bellwether's ankle in her paw.

Nick's pulse tripled as he saw her tail disappear over the edge. "Judy!" Nick cried, diving off after her and snatching her boot in his paw. His other paw clung to the railing by fingertips, the three-mammal-chain dangling above the chemical vat.

"You know, I could've let her fall, Carrots, I really could have," he said through gritted teeth.

Judy beamed over her shoulder. "Yeah, but you couldn't let me fall."

"Well, I seem to remember a certain bunny saving a certain fox from plummeting to his death once before so, you know," Nick's face contorted in pain as his muscles strained against the weight. "Couldn't… let you… get the best of me."

He felt strong hands grip his arm and yank the three swinging mammals back onto the balcony. Next to Wolford, Bogo regarded them. "Officer Hopps, Officer Wilde." He flashed a rare smile, softly kicking Bellwether's snoring body on the ground. "Nice work."

—

He debriefed them as they walked down the hallway back to the lab. "The facility's under full lockdown. Sheepkreli's already on the way to the precinct, babbling about being framed."

Judy laughed derisively. "I've got an audio feed that might suggest otherwise."

"We told him as much," the chief replied, pressing the up button on the lab elevator. The doors opened, and the ZPD officers stepped in. "The workers in the lab are pleading ignorance."

"Think they knew?" Nick asked.

The elevator dinged, and the trio emerged into the grand, open-air Furrck lobby. The front wall was entirely glass, and brilliant sunshine streamed in to warm the marble floors. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as the group made their way across towards the doors.

"We'll iron it out, one way or another." Bogo paused as they neared the exit. "There's still evidence to be collected, and I'm going to have a nightmare sorting through the red tape of conducting a raid on a building in the middle of downtown in broad daylight." He rubbed his temple. "But… that's a chief's problem, not an officers' problem."

He tucked his massive arms behind his back. "You two have done, once again, exceptionally well." He fished into his pocket. "Officer Hopps, this was already in the pipeline for you. Given recent events, however, I believe that Officer Wilde has proved himself, despite juniority." His eyes narrowed. "And chronic tardiness."

His paw emerged with two shiny detective badges.

Judy leapt three full feet in the air, pumping her fists before she could contain herself. "Ah, ahem," she cleared her throat. "It's, ah, an honor. We won't let you down, sir."

Nick chuckled at her, accepting the badge from Bogo. "What she said."

An officer and a group of Furrck employees across the lobby caught Bogo's eye, waving him over. "Cleanup here will take some time. Report back to the precinct tomorrow for your first assignment." He gave them a crisp salute, which they returned (her with pinpoint precision, him with a lazy wave of the arm), then turned to address the situation across the room.

Judy, trying to contain her excitement, put on her best deadpan expression, although the corners of her mouth still curved upwards. "Shall we mosey, Detective Wilde?"

Impossibly, from one of the countless pouches in his tactical uniform, Nick produced his aviators, flicking them across his face. He pulled open the door into the afternoon sun, holding it for her. "After you, Detective Hopps."

A/N: Ride's almost over! Last chapter will be an epilogue.

Chapter Text

"Carrots, face it. You live in a dorm room."

"Excuse me? It's a luxury apartment. With charm."

The companions were tucked underneath the generous shade of a sprawling sycamore in Central Park, gilded by the soft light of the early-evening as it snuck through the gaps and breaks in the foliage. Nick was seated on the grass with his back against the ancient scales of bark coating the trunk. Judy lay perpendicular to him, her head resting on his lap.

It had been two weeks since their promotion and the closure of the Bellwether case. The pair were once again the ZPD's poster-children, earning personal medals of commendation from the mayor in addition to their matching set of polished detective badges.

Word of their newborn romance spread nearly as quickly as word of the case itself. After twisting itself into a frenzy, the city's fawning adulation towards the couple was just beginning to cool off. Reactions within the ZPD ranged from the jubilant ("OH-EM-GOODNESS," Clawhauser squealed, tumbling out of his chair) to the eloquent ("A syzygy of chance and persistence and companionship that finally reached its pure, intrinsic conclusion," opined Sampson with a sage smile) to the less-than-eloquent ("Hey, I owe you two. You two can totally do it in my new hot tub if you want!" McRoary said, gyrating his hips).

To their credit, the pair had handled the attention gracefully. Judy with a practiced roll of the eyes, Nick with cocky winks and 'hey, what can I say?' shrugs. To be fair, though, the couple had more important things to worry about. Like finding a new place together, for example.

Nick groaned. "You're impossible, Hopps."

"No, that's you."

"Impossibly handsome, maybe."

She peered up at him. "Yeah, you know, this angle really brings out your best features."

"I've heard the jawline looks especially chiseled from down there."

She giggled. "Mmhmm, definitely. Chiseled from play-dough."

Judy felt herself bounce gently on his lap as he chuckled. She turned her head, looking out into the park. To their left, a gravel walking path wound to-and-fro, with walkers and joggers enjoying the late-summer air. To their right, a youth soccer game was just underway, along with the accompanying thunk of the ball and cries of celebration and outrage. Out in front of them, a grassy field stretched out to a thin forest, dotted with picnickers along the way. Beyond the treeline, the skyscrapers of the city brushed the wispy clouds.

"So it doesn't bother you?" Judy asked, taking in the scene.

Nick glanced down at her. "What?"

"Being together like this?" Those big violet eyes flickered. "You know, fox and a bunny? Out here in plain sight, for the world to see?"

Nick cradled her head in his hands, running his paws up her ears. It sent a pleasant shudder up her spine. "Nope. You're stuck with me. And even if it's weird," He held one of her ears to his mouth as he whispered, "everyone loves us too much to care anyway."

Judy sighed. "We are pretty lovable, I suppose."

It was quiet for a moment. Nick shifted. "Did I tell you I asked Ben about that night?"

"Which night?"

"That night?"

Judy tensed up in excitement, grabbing his forearm. "No way. After the concert?"

Nick nodded, smirking. "Yes, way. See…"

---

The pair collapsed onto their backs in the moist grass beside the pool, exhausted from the night's activities. The punchy bass of electronic music was still thumping, and ZPD officers careened in and out of the pool, dancing in drunken abandon. Judy looked over at Nick, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. "I like dancing with you," she slurred.

Nick's eyelids were half-lidded as he replied, "I like… you," he drawled, lazily pointing a finger at her. "You're… pretty."

Her mouth opened in slow disbelief.

"Pretty… goofy looking!" Nick finished, clutching his belly in burping laughter.

Judy pouted. "Hey, that's not nice…" She padded over and half-crawled, half-fell onto Nick, resting on his lap with her hands on his chest. "You said I'm pretty… say that again."

Nick grinned stupidly. "I'm pretty."

She wound up to hit him, but before she could, he continued, "And you're pretty.

Her eyes, through the haze of alcohol, twinkled with delight. "Mmm... Say more nice things to me, Mister Nick Wilde."

He gave a toothy smile. "It would be my pleasure, miss Judith Hopps." One of his paws fumbled around in the grass next to him, returning with a half-drunk bottle of blueberry wine. He took a generous pull, spilling all over himself the process. "You are, without doubt, the nicest, prettiest, smartest, best mammal I have ever met," he said, punctuating each word with a roll of his head from side to side.

Judy laughed, snatching the bottle from his hand and sucking down a mouthful. "Officer, I think you, -hic-, have a crush on me."

Nick feigned defeat. "You've got me, Officer." He held up his paws. "Cuff me and take me downnnntown. Only," he sat up so that they were face to face, wrapping his arms around her back to hold her upright, "I think you might have a crush on me too," he said in a conspiratorial whisper.

She smirked, pushing him back to the ground. "Pffft. You think that just because you're clever and funny and easy on the eyes and..." she rubbed at his furry stomach, "mmm… comfortable… that I… have a … thing for… you…" she rolled off of him, holding up a now-empty bottle of wine. "So where can a bunny -hic- find something to drink around here?"

Nick hauled himself to his feet, stumbled twice, and grabbed Judy, slinging her over his shoulder. "Officer Wilde is on the case," he slurred, stumbling towards the house.

---

Their laughter rang out across the park, attracting a few good-natured looks. "Pretty nice moves slick," she teased, running a paw through the soft fur of his muzzle.

"Hey, what can I say?" he grinned. "I was born with orange fur and a silver tongue."

Judy squirmed around, nesting in his lap and shutting her eyes. "Charming fox."

He shrugged. "Pretty bunny."

"You know you love me."

Nick's felt his eyelids grow heavy and allowed them to flutter shut, content with Judy's familiar warmth on his lap. "Do I know that?" He leaned down and touched the tip of his nose to the crown of her head.

"Yes. Yes, I do."